Chapter 1572: New Player
The Primordial Beast’s words did not make Rowan stop his actions. If Bahamut was bluffing and he froze as a result, then his defeat would be too pathetic. Just because this was a ninth-dinsional entity did not an his talent for deceit was lesser; instead, it was most likely the opposite.
It also helped that among the most negative outcos from this battle that may arise, Rowan had considered that other Primordial powers might be included as it progressed forward. As far as he could tell, there had not been any fight of the level in the Supre Era, and no matter how durable space was to be, slight traces of their battle were still escaping from it.
The thing was that, even if the Primordials arrived, Rowan would simply deal with it as best as he could. There were thods he had placed down that might ensure his survival, but in battles of this level, he was never a hundred percent assured of its outco.
Besides, no matter how it seed, Rowan was not fighting this battle alone. Desperate tis called for desperate asures, and he had taken many such asures on this day, as well as many years he had spent preparing for it.
His dinsional soul did not stop reaching for the heavens, and his hand pushed through the power of Fate, ignoring the endless number of forces present in the ocean of Fate. He grabbed the Origin that was always ant for him. It would be easy to fall into temptation here and see if he could seize more Origin.
A chill like his soul had just dropped into an ocean of ice enveloped him, and the dinsional soul froze in place. What he was holding might seem epheral, but the weight of the origin of Fate was greater than he could ever imagine.
A small part of him had been considering taking more than a single Origin; after all, his main body was still undergoing Tribulation, which ant the gate of Fate was wide open, and he could blunder hee bounty as much as he could. However, it was holding onto a single Origin that he beca fully aware of the power that he had gained.
From all across Rowan’s dinsional soul, massive boils and blisters began to grow before exploding in a shower of gore and bleeding light. Like endless volcanoes erupting all over his skin, the soul of the dinsional soul began to expand, and he was under so much stress that if not for the power freezing him in place, Rowan would be screaming in pain.
His dinsional soul, which was countless tis more terrifying than any soul should have any right to be, was breaking under the weight of Fate. Holding the Origin of Fate turned out to be sothing that even his perverse dinsional soul was not built to handle.
Cracks that were so massive they could fit countless dinsions broke across his dinsional soul, and intense beams of light and other esoteric forces blasted out of Rowan’s soul as creation and destruction waged war inside him.
His soul was failing, but his grip on the Origin of Fate was becoming more firm, and as a result, the breath of the seventh dinsion was beginning to arise around Rowan.
This Aura seed to quickly accelerate the speed of his Will Formation, and his Will of Soul Origin and the Will of Ti all smoothly entered the seventh-dinsional level, except for the Will of Elder that remained in the fifth dinsion, but Rowan had an idea on the thod of developing this Will.
All of these powerful Wills reaching the seventh dinsion boosted the powers of Rowan’s soul, and his grip tightened on Fate’s Origin in the shape of a heavenly book, and he began to pull it out.
As ridiculous as it was to imagine, Rowan was absorbing the ninth-dinsional Origin of Fate as a nascent seventh-dinsional entity and was already on the road to success. If nothing changed in the next few monts, he would succeed.
His bet on his potential had been the right choice. His dinsional flesh and soul were potent enough to cross the chasm that separated the rest of Reality from the true nature of power.
In the distance, this Reality created by the flesh of Bahamut that was countless tis more potent than the true Reality cracked open, as a force countless tis greater than any of the power unleashed in this battle creates a passage into this space, and a Primordial stepped through.
All of existence shuddered.
Space fractured then simply vanished under an unfathomable weight, and from a place beyond ti—an entity older than existence, whose form was a paradox: a writhing mass of obsidian tendrils one mont, a constellation of burning eyes the next, then a hollow, yawning maw that swallowed the very concept of shape.
Stars flickered and died in its wake. Reality recoiled.
The laws of physics twisted like wet parchnt, unraveling in their presence. Gravity bent into screams. Ti splintered into shards, each fragnt reflecting a different epoch—past, future, and epochs that never were.
At last, it took the form of a mundane man whose physique was too perfect. As if to glory in his perfection, this Primordial was naked, with only a thin strip of glowing mories surrounding him.
Rowan had finally seen the full form of a Primordial. And it was glorious as well as terrible. This was sothing that he was rapidly transforming into.
The roar of Bahamut resounded all over this space, greed, glee, and anger pulsing in his voice in equal asure,
“Finally, you are here. Kill him before he succeeds in grasping an Origin and inscribe his na on the Cosmic Record!”
From Rowan’s dinsional flesh that was still in the shape of a massive cloud ca his deep voice,
“I told you I will deliver your prey to you, Primordial Chaos.”
“That you did, child,” Primordial Chaos smiled, “That you did.”
Bahamut seed to have been struck dumb, and he scread in rage. Whatever hate and greed he felt for Rowan was nothing before the primordial standing here,
“Chaos! I shall end your existence!”
“Not before I co for yours, little beast.”
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