The Primordial Keepers had come across enemies that could cross through the domain of the desert and destroy their Memories, that was not a strange thing when you realized the sort of enemies the Keepers had, they had even encountered enemies that could crush their souls, but the one thing that their Will gave them was a soul that was considered impossible to be destroyed.
This was one of the greatest reasons why the Primordial Keepers were able to stand donating despite the restraint of the bloodline keeping them at the fifth dimension as the highest level they could ever reach.
Since the end of the primordial Era, the Keepers had been killed many times by various powerful forces, but their soul could never be extinguished, they possessed one of the soul bloodlines in reality, and their Will had assured them of the total immortality of their soul. The death of the first Primordial Keeper that drew them inside this space had not been fully comprehended, because Rowan had ensured that the soul of that Keeper had not been consumed by Sheol to ensure that the Keepers had not panicked at the start and performed an action he could not predict, but killing these Keepers he consumed their souls, transforming them Soul Mountains, they were already inside Wormtongue, the time for pretenses were
over.
The shock of the death of the Keepers rippled through the formation, and Rowan would put to shame his Warmaster Title if he did not take advantage of it.
A twist of his wrist turned the blade horizontal and he almost made a one-eighty-degree sweep in front of him, slicing through thousands of Primordial Keepers, and taking another step forward through the gap created in the flame wall with these moves, he instantly arrived in the midst of the Keepers, and he manifested three more arms.
In the next few moments, his six arms made dozens of sweeps while he took seven steps forward. Those steps brought him across nearly a mile of distance, taking him to the precise center of the Primordial Keepers formation, and Rowan breathed out, smoke and steam erupting from his mouth as he winced in pain.
Traveling through their ranks, those sweeps of his blade had turned him into a blender, and behind him, a hundred thousand Keepers shuddered and collapsed into dust.
Rowan's body halted like a marionette whose strings had been cut, his head down and his arms raised, but the harsh wind was making them sway as if they were being held by strings. The fact that he suddenly stopped was not a mistake, a few feet ahead of him, the ground exploded, flinging powerful blasts of yellow soul blades into the sky with so much force that if this space had not been covered by Wormtongue, this blast would have been seen for millions of light years, if he had taken one more step, he would have been sliced into pieces.
This space was incredibly stable, even more than most seventh-dimensional space, yet it still shook under that barrage.
It might appear that in these first few moments, Rowan had all the advantages, but that was not truly the case, his speed was not so unparalleled that he could not be tracked by the Primordial Keepers, and they were not standing in place for him to slaughter them.
He had torn through the formation and if the Primordial Keepers had not quickly taken evasive actions, he would have killed more than the hundred thousand that he just did, and despite their evasive actions, they had been setting a trap for him that would have ended this battle in an instant.
Rowan whispered, "Battle is a dance,"
The Primordial Keepers were not waiting after their traps were seen through, instead, a wave of crushing Time swept towards Rowan, placing himself in the center of their formation was a tactical mistake by most metrics, and the Primordial Keepers would make him pay for that mistake.
At this point, Rowan had no visible indicator that he was a higher dimensional immortal, and when the hold of Time-Stop unleashed by millions of Primordial Keeper fell on him, he should have been frozen in place, even a sixth-dimensional entity's only recourse would be to flee, because with enough numbers, the power of Time-Stop would gain a qualitative transformation.
The wave of time was colorless and forests but when it reached Rowan, that wave became visible, and before the shocked gaze of every Primordial Keeper here, this wave of time did not crush Rowan in place, instead it encircled him, and slowly inched towards his body as if there was a barrier around his flesh that made all operations of time to be stalled.
At this time it was almost as if Rowan was covered by a sea of purple lights of all shades, "Ah, you should count yourself lucky," Rowan said, "It is a rare thing to see the color of time."
"Hymns of the Cherubim," Rowan growled, "Mountain of Blades!" freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
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