The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1257

Chapter 1257: Wormtongue

The bodies of the Cherubim were hard to discern, and the soul flame knew that one of the reasons was that its level was too low to see everything about them, but despite this, it barely comprehended that their shape could be similar to giant mechanical beings, there was

nothing soft or malleable in their structure, and if there was any trace of humanity in the base Angels, a Cherubim no longer possessed those traits.

Rowan's perception surged forward and merged with the might of these Cherubim, and their names and powers became known to him.

The first great changes happened with their names, for each Cherubim no longer had individual names, but they represented a concept, a single powerful Angel, and if he would be creating a Seraphim in the future, that name would be inherited by a Seraphim in the future.

Rowan called the name of the nine Cherubims here, and they rose as he called forth their names,

"Convergence, Remorse, Sundown, Legacy, Prophecy, Requiem, Judgement, Justifier... Extinction, welcome to reality. My Angels were always born to war, same as you all, and I do not take your strength lightly, for you were made to end the reigns of the Primordial Keepers, and after that, your reach would touch the very foundations of reality."

Rowan gestured towards the sea of Ambrosia below, "Draw upon sustenance, and ready yourself, prey comes."

Powers had reached beyond the limits of the physical realm, their strength reaching heights that most would think impossible for creatures of the corporeal dimensions, Cherubims had exceeded that level, and now they touched the fabrics of time itself, and they were Fourth dimensional Will Holders.

The Will they controlled was in their name... Convergence, Remorse, Extinction, all were powerful concepts that most immortals would never even dream of acquiring, because the process of getting such a Will was unknown, or was so ridiculously difficult that it was considered impossible.

The weapons were set. Rowan looked at his left hand that had finished pouring down nearly a billion Soul Origin Orb, the bait was also set, what was left should be...

With a loud crack and a subtle hum, the Source-level treasure was completed. The battlefield was set.

R

"....Curse you, I curse you and everything you have ever known, I shall not rest until you..." Rowan brought the lamp burning with green flames to his face and watched the Primordial Keeper inside it cursing him like there was no tomorrow.

He looked at the creature for a moment and then he touched the source-level treasure that he had hung around his waist, whose form had taken a shape that resembled a rope, and as if a spell had been washed away from the face of the Primordial Keeper in the lamp, he suddenly stopped cursing, and looked around in confusion,

"what... What am I doing here? Why was j saying all those words? I am... Aahhh..."

The pain from the green flames that it had forgotten about in a moment of confusion returned and it began to scream,