The Primordial Record

There was too much new information for Rowan to process at this time. His mortal flesh forced him to a singular consciousness, but he had a way to get around this limitation by rapidly swapping consciousnesses. He knew the moment he began upgrading his bloodline this limitation would be rapidly left behind, but for now, he was left with one consciousness.

At this time what he needed to figure out was his present body capabilities, and he was glad with the result, it floored his previous body's power by such a large margin it was ridiculous.

At his strongest, right before he became a dimension, his body had barely two million points in each attribute and that was after he was baptized by the essence of Chaos outosde the universe, and now a single attribute of his dwarfed his entire previous combined attributes.

He knew that this massive gain in attributes was born from the merger of the World Seed with the Supreme World, although he had not lost his previous attributes, they were still available for him to allocate to whatever trait he desired. With nearly ten million extra attributes he could choose to push towards any stat he desired at a moment's notice.

What made Rowan's eyes light up was the fact that at this juncture he had not activated his new Primordial bloodline, it was at the mortal level and he was already this powerful. He had no idea how many attributes he would gain by upgrading this bloodline by a single Circle, but it must surely be stupendous.

His mind could not help but recall his previous starting point when he awoke on Trion, thirty-eight years ago. He barely had a total of twenty points across all attributes, with a lifespan that was measured in days, and now, he could live long enough to see a universe perish.

After all the trials and tribulations he had gone through, using all his experiences and resources, Rowan had forged a new body, and now he was making his path forward using his Will. It was a new beginning, but before his journey would begin, he would need to bury the past.

There were so many revelations on the page of his Primordial Record hinting at matters on a grander scale, but for now, he just wanted to slaughter. His Sheol bloodline made him disdain battle, he fought through proxies and soldiers, but as a Primordial Ouroboros, his fist was his greatest weapon.

There was no concept of fear in his heart, he would not leave here until one here was dead.

His prismatic eyes opened and he looked down at the Third Prince and he grinned. It was the final straw. The Third Prince saw the future that was promised in those eyes and he did not like it. Not one bit.

The words that emerged from the mouth of the Third Prince were like a growl from a beast, "Kill him!" as he declared open season on the thorn inside his heart.

The first to race toward the Twilight Bridge were the demons, who had edged toward the bridge as they were following the Undead beast behind. At the forefront was a lucky Demon Knight riding a panther-like beast whose fur was like smoke and eyes yellow like pus, racing across space to be the first to claim Rowan's head.

As the pair reached the bridge, flying tens of thousands of feet above it and scoping the lone form of Rowan below standing at the middle of the Twilight bridge which was precisely twelve thousand miles long, hardly a large number considering the scale they were working with, suddenly an intense gravitational force drew them down to the bridge and they slammed on its surface with bone-breaking force. The panther-like beast howled in pain, and the Demon Knight urged it to move forward but it was maimed, unable to recover from its injuries.

Normally, an injury like this was not worth mentioning when it came to the healing power of Abyssal Flesh, and a Demon Knight to boot had a more enhanced healing factor, but this bridge made healing a million times harder, not because of any specific feature put in place, it was simply the absolute nature of death surrounding the bridge that made healing abilities to be nearly useless.

The Demon Knight howled in rage, and he smashed the head of his mount with a large hammer, peeling himself away from the dead beast with a grunt. It was unknown how long he had been sitting on this beast but his body had become fused with it, and tearing himself away from the beast caused him a lose a sizable portion of his flesh.

Not caring about his grievous injuries, he strode towards Rowan, hefting his hammer, and spat out in the harsh abyssal tongue, "I shall eat your heart before you die, mortal. Urukjal shall claim your throne and all its riches. Hear me and despair."

A few feet before he reached Rowan, he collapsed to his knees, his eyes widened in surprise, before face-planting on the bridge, dead. Behind him was a long trail of black blood that led to his dead mount.

Not used to the absolute nature of the bridge, the Demon Knight had seriously injured himself and bled to death.

After fighting for unknown millions of years, the concept of bleeding to death was understood but a powerful Demon Knight would have to suffer an injury that was a thousand times worse than what he had endured and for a prolonged period of time, likely millennia before a Demon Knight should bleed to death.

It was no wonder that the Demon Knight only realized it was dead the moment he was at its precipice. The Twilight bridge flashed and the body of the Demon Kinght and his mount was consumed, leaving behind two drops of blood that was trapped inside the bridge. He was the first.

Rowan's eyes were fixed on the Third Prince as above him, hundreds of thousands of demons were slammed into the bridge drawn from the air by an inexorable force, they were crushed into pulp and their bodies vanished soon after, leaving behind drops of blood.

It took a short while for those approaching the bridge to realize that it was impossible to fly over it, but by then nearly a million demons had perished and Rowan had not made a single move. The lust for his power had blinded them, and demons were creatures of desire, it took a while before the massive toll of death registered and order was restored.

Of all the deaths from the fall, It was a particularly robust Demon General that survived the drop from the sky as he was cushioned by a mountain of bodies below him, his left leg we broken by the fall but he was not bleeding, his tough skin and muscle holding his broken bones in place. His large body which was more than fifty feet tall was suppressed by the bridge, shrinking down to less than twenty feet, but he still towered over Rowan.

His goat eyes were fixed on his prey with unshakable focus and he dragged his broken feet toward his target, not minding the pain. A dozen feet away from Rowan he swung his large Axe whose head was nearly as large as Rowan's entire body.

Rowan swayed to the side like a leaf, dodging the blow, and he watched the Axe pass by as if it was in slow motion and then he punched the head of the Axe as it swiped past him.

The force of the blow ripped the Axe from the hand of the Demon General, crushing his limbs as the Axe reversed its course and sliced the Demon in two. He screamed in pain and clawed the ground for a brief moment before catastrophic blood loss and his insides pouring out like a river led to his death.

However the force of the blow was so great the Axe did not stop after slicing the Demon General, it continued down the length of the bridge cutting through hundreds of thousands of demons before blasting off the bridge and flying towards his broken dimension.

Ten seconds later the Axe impacted against the dimension and it detonated like a nuclear bomb as it slammed against the earth. At the location of its descent was a gathering of hundreds of thousands of mages and demons.

They all perished.

It was at this moment that the full realization of their situation entered their mind. Although Rowan's dimension had been broken, it still maintained its property that made any immortal that died inside it perish permanently.

Either on the bridge or on the ground, the only road out of here was death.