The Primordial Record - Chapter 1258

Chapter 1258: I Am All Kind Of Wrong



Wormtongue was created for the express purpose of locking down primordial keepers, and one of its functions was to take advantage of the Memory of the Keeper that had been killed.

When the Memory arrived in the Great Desert, in that instant, it created a connection with the entire Primordial Keepers, because in this place, they were all connected.

The Aura of so many Soul Origin Orbs witnessed by the slain Keeper echoed throughout the Great Desert, and every Primordial Keeper in existence felt the throb of this power that should be in their care burning into their senses like a hot brand into their soul.

From the sands, countless Primordial Keepers began to arise, facing a single direction-the Memory of the slain Keeper, and with that connection, Rowan struck the blade of the Cherubim cutting into the Great Desert, opening the channel for Wormtongue to enter.

Wormtongue was connected to the Memory, and the Memory was connected to every Primordial Keeper, Rowan used this Source-level treasure as a fishing hook, the Memory was the bait, and the Primordial Keepers was the fish that had just bit.

Rowan pulled, and reality quaked.

His strength was not enough but he was using his Telekinesis which was strangely getting stronger the weaker his body became and he pulled, taking from the Great Desert something that should never leave it, the memories of the Keepers.

His strength and Telekinesis turned out not to be enough, but he also had one last tool he could use and that was Wormtongue.

Almost like an elastic band that had been stretched to the limit, Wormtongue throbbed and hummed in a discordant fashion as if the tension it was being placed under was almost more than it could bear, and then it retracted with a fierce momentum that generated so much power that it released a shockwave that slammed into Rowan, flinging him back for thousands of miles, and due to his present weakness, he was stunned for a moment.

Shaking his head like a bulldog, Rowan struggled back to his feet, his hand had not released its hold on Wormtongue even while he was disoriented.

Blood poured down his scalp down his eyes, but Rowan disregarded all of that and fixed his gaze in the distance on the mound of Soul Origin Orbs and sighed in relief when he saw that nothing had happened to them, and only then did he have the presence of mind to touch his scalp and discovered the harsh wound that tore through the flesh of his forehead to the bone, he realized that when Wormtongue snapped back, it had torn into his skull, and because it was a Source-level treasure, even his insane regenerative abilities were hampered.

Rowan paused at these whispers from the sprite before grunting as he raced towards the Soul Origin Orbs, whatever that meant, he would handle it later.

His feet pushed into the dissipating dimension, and his body was launched forward, crossing the distance instantaneously, but in their realm of power, many things could be done in an instant.

The Primordial Keepers had surrounded the mound of Soul Origin Orbs, their numbers were in the millions. The form they took resembled the grim reapers of Rowan's past, due to the long robe and the cowl that covered their features.

Clustered around the Soul Origin Orb, they were right where Rowan wanted, and he snapped Wormtongue like a whip and launched it forward. It expanded stretching across millions of miles, until it surrounded the entire cluster of Primordial Keepers and cut this place from all known reality, even the nothingness itself.

The Primordial Keepers who at first had been entranced by the Soul Origin Orbs quickly detected the changes in the space, they all moved in perfect sync as if they were all one organism, as they turned around, bringing up their hands as words from arcane forbidden spells were about to erupt from them at the same time when their attention was drawn to a figure blasting towards them from above like a meteor.

The dimension trembled as the meteorite impacted against the earth, and Rowan slowly stood up, his figure now truly reminiscent of an ancient one because his back was bent, and his thick white hair fell over his face like a waterfall, and a weak and thrash voice came from him that slowly got stronger,

"You cannot speak, your words are denied here, you can only fight."

He straightened, as a black sword materialized in his right hand and he pointed it at the

Primordial Keepers,

"The heavens are not fair, but I am. Get through me and you shall live, I have made the board unequal, and you have the advantage, your survival is in your hands.

All as one the Primordial Keepers hissed, "You are the abomination Nemesis warned us

about,"

"Yeah, I am all kind of wrong," Rowan grinned, "Now, fight!"Nôv(el)B\jnn