The bodies of the Cherubim were hard to discern, and the soul fla 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 chanical 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 rged with the might of these Cherubim, and their nas and powers beca known to him.
The first great changes happened with their nas, for each Cherubim no longer had individual nas, but they represented a concept, a single powerful Angel, and if he would be creating a Seraphim in the future, that na would be inherited by a Seraphim in the future.
Rowan called the na of the nine Cherubims here, and they rose as he called forth their nas,
"Convergence, Remorse, Sundown, Legacy, Prophecy, Requiem, Judgent, Justifier... Extinction, welco to reality. My Angels were always born to war, sa 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 cos."
Powers had reached beyond the limits of the physical realm, their strength reaching heights that most would think impossible for creatures of the corporeal dinsions, Cherubims had exceeded that level, and now they touched the fabrics of ti itself, and they were Fourth dinsional Will Holders.
The Will they controlled was in their na... 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 flas to his face and watched the Primordial Keeper inside it cursing him like there was no tomorrow.
He looked at the creature for a mont 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 flas that it had forgotten about in a mont of confusion returned and it began to scream,
"So, that's how it works, Wormtongue" Rowan muttered to himself as he watched the screaming Keeper in the fla.
He had captured this Keeper tens of millions of years ago, and for all that ti, the little bastard had been cursing Rowan, and at first it was amusing, and then Rowan beca curious because he knew that this was not normal, for the Keeper never stopped cursing him, even after millions of years had gone by, it was as if its mind had beco stuck in a single fixed state, and even the Keeper seed not to be aware of what was happening to it.
It took millions of years later to this present mont to realize that it was the effect of his newly created Source-level treasure.
The power of this treasure had reached across ti, back into the past, and was affecting the Keeper even before it even existed!
Although Source-level treasures were powerful and transcended ti and space itself, such a thing was not normal, and it only proved how deeply the fate of the Primordial Keepers was intertwined with this treasure after all Rowan had forged it for the express purpose of ending the existence of the Primordial Keepers and even in the past, even before the treasure was born, its effects were being felt.
Rowan squeezed his fist and the lamp was shattered, freeing the Keeper from the fla that had tortured it for so long. Rowan did not care about torturing his enemies, there were better ways of inducing regrets than pain, but he needed the mind of the Keeper to be disoriented as much as possible so that the final effects could be more spectacular.
The Source level treasure he was calling Wormtongue wriggled around his waist like a snake and whispers entered the mind of the Keeper in Rowan's hand, making the agitated Keeper calm, at least that was until its gaze fell to the side and it saw the mountain of Soul Origin Orbs, it cries of outrage was silenced by Rowan squeezing its head until it exploded, and then he waited for a while before a black blade was shoved into the body of the Keeper. Rowan closed his eyes seemingly waiting for sothing and then he smiled. He held Wormtongue, it unraveled and it displayed the true nature of this weapon had taken the form of a whip that seed to be made from flesh, swinging it to the side, Wormtongue pierced through the body of the dead Keeper, its ends vanishing into an unknown space, but Rowan could discern endless rolling sands through the cracks in reality that opened up inside the body of the dead Keeper before this vision vanished.
Watching all these, there was one thing that the soul fla found to be extrely odd, which was the appearance of the Keeper.
What was odd was that, except for a few changes, the appearances of the Primordial Keepers and Ascendants, were eerily similar.
R
The mont before when Rowan had deliberately allowed the Primordial Keeper to see the mound of Soul Origin Orb before he killed him was to engrain that imagery in the mind of the
Keeper.
Crushing its skull was a useless move against a creature of the fourth dinsion, but Rowan possessed Sheol, a sanctuary for souls, and this powerful Primordial bloodline was a terrifying counter against the immortality of higher dinsional beings, for being close to Rowan when they perished, especially from his hands would drag their souls into Sheol. A higher dinsional being might be able to resist the call of Sheol and fight to retain their souls, but a fourth-dinsional Keeper whose mind had been tortured by Wormtongue and the green flas could not resist the call of Sheol and crushing its skull was a one-way ticket into Rowan's kingdom.
Rowan knew that killing higher dinsional immortals was not so simple, especially Keepers, and so the mory of this particular Keeper that could be found inside the great desert was the next thing that needed to be killed.
When Rowan crushed the skull of the Keeper, he waited a bit before stabbing it again with the black blade of the Cherubim because, after the death of its soul, the mory of the Keeper inside the Great Desert would inherit everything that the Keeper had experienced before its
death.
Since Rowan had totally eliminated its soul, a clear picture of everything that transpired in its lifeti would not be sent over, but sothing that would inevitably be sent over would be the sight of billions of Soul Origin Orbs.
That was the bait. The sight of this would draw the attention of every Primordial Keeper in the Great Desert, and then this was where the power of Wormtongue ca into the picture.
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