The Celestial Legions had entered this realm in numbers beyond counting with great fanfare, and their first show of power was spectacular. In a single move, they had incapacitated a Primordial Beast and the Throne of a Primordial, and their montum seed unstoppable.
However, in the ti of three short breaths, their numbers had been reduced to nearly nothing. The heavens bled golden and scarlet as it wept with the oceans of divine ichor spewed from the crushed bodies of the Celestials, and all of this happened by the act of a single man.
Now there was only the Archon with the Adjudicator on its shoulder, and the last Celestial Creator standing defeated with fear, the song lost from his heart.
Rowan could imagine the shock in the Celestial Creator’s heart. Since the mont of creation, there had never been anyone like him.
There were Chosen Children, Heavenly Fated, Heaven Defying Genuises who could co once in an Era, and then there was him.
Rowan had watched the lives and developnts of countless heaven-defying geniuses in Reality. He had seen the trajectory of their growth and the height of their souls.
They could grow up to defy the heavens with a single deed and be renowned for an Era. A case in point would be Andar, whose na and feat had shaken the foundations of the Magus society.
However, no matter how talented these geniuses were, they were nothing before the abomination that was Rowan.
As a mortal, he had mastered the Supre Circle, which was basically a collection of all the techniques and cultivation pathways in Reality.
On the surface, this would seem wild, but there were other great geniuses out there who, although it took them a longer ti to do it, were all on their way to deciphering the Supre Circle.
An example of this would be the Celestial Creators that Rowan had just butchered. As a favourite pasti, most Celestial Creators chose to decrypt the Supre Circle to learn about other pathways of power.
Nevertheless, there was sothing fundantally different about what they were doing and what Rowan had achieved even as a mortal.
Rowan did not just decipher every single pathway inside the Supre Circles; he completely mastered them to their pinnacle. No immortal alive had the soul capacity to interpret and master at the sa ti, and what most did was simply brush across the surface and morize the pathways. They could only be used as reference material for their own cultivation and not master all of it.
There is a difference between reading a course on Alchemy, knowing the text from cover to cover, and mastering the Alchemy lessons and becoming a Master Alchemist.
A great genius who would stand out once in an Era could master a hundred law pathways, but Rowan had mastered virtually an infinite number of law pathways. How could there be any competition with him?
Rowan cracked his neck. The fight had been short but incredibly brutal. He had been taken to the limits and beyond many tis in these three short breaths, and although his recovery ability was unmatched, he was still suffering from multiple injuries that should kill him many tis over.
Every weapon used had the potential to kill him, and even if they had simply brushed across his skin, they left marks of laws behind that were at the ninth-dinsional level, even though the intensity of their strikes was not up to par with a Primordial.
His body was still struggling to cleanse itself from the corruption imposed by these weapons, and his dinsional soul was working overti to ensure that even though he was not at his peak, his battle capabilities would never wane. Until he perished, Rowan’s blow would never weaken; he would only grow stronger.
Pointing his Destroyer at the Archon, Rowan fixed his gaze on the Adjudicator, "Will you co down to battle or should I co to you?"
Teophiel, the Celestial Creator, snarled. He might be afraid, but he could not stand by and watch the glory of Light be defaced by an abomination, and the Adjudicator smiled and motioned him to relax, before turning to Rowan,
"I will rather stand here if you don’t mind, that blade of yours has drunk enough Celestial blood. Where did you find a weapon like this? I can see that its origin cos from Light, but along the way it has beco twisted into a thing of blood and fire."
"Is that all you want to ask?" Rowan said, "Then I shall co over to answer your question."
"Well, before you do that," the Adjudicator reached beside him into space and pulled out an instrunt in the shape of a pedal harp, seemingly made from light and gold with ninety-nine strings, which he set beside him. Gently setting his body beside the instrunt, he sat in midair with the harp between his legs and the top resting on his shoulder. He looked upon the musical instrunt fondly before addressing Rowan,
"I am curious if you are familiar with the song I am about to play. I pulled the mory of it from a dead universe that had sohow vanished when I went back to look for it. Sha, and a lesson to never allow myself to believe in the stability of Reality. Now, hear play."
The Adjudicator began plucking the strings, his right and left hands gliding over the strings like a swallow lightly skimming over the surface of a still lake, and music like no other erged from the harp.
Rowan beca silent, and the heavens and the earth—all of creation—seed to go still as this music filled the air.
The sound erging from a harp was nothing short of enchanting—a delicate, celestial cascade of tones that seed to shimr in the air like golden light on water.
Each plucked string releases a note that blooms with crystalline purity, lingering with a warm, resonant glow before gently fading into the next. The high notes sparkle like dewdrops, while the deeper tones roll like soft, velvety waves, creating a harmonious balance that feels both ethereal and deeply soothing.
Rowan’s hand, holding the Destroyer, pointed at the Adjudicator, dropped to his side. He seemingly lost all energy in his limbs as he was dragged down into mory.
The lody flows with a liquid grace, as if the harp itself is breathing—sotis tender and whispering like a sigh, other tis rising in a radiant, cascading arpeggio that dances like sunlight through leaves. The vibrations seem to hover in the space around him, wrapping the world in a luminous embrace, evoking emotions ranging from wistful longing to transcendent joy.
It is a sound that feels ancient yet tiless, as though the very air has been woven into sothing sacred and subli.
It seed to be a long ti, but it was also just a mont, and then the music ended, taking with it Rowan’s heart.
"At the beginning, I never understood Primordial’s Life fascination for music; it is not often that I find myself denied comprehension, but this piece, taken from a forgotten universe, has shown sothing that I have never understood before, and for this I thank you, Eulxhu Thyak."
"Primordial mory," Rowan growled, "I was wondering when you would show up."
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