The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1772

Chapter 1772: Shattering The Center

"Sixth sword form, Unbreaking Stone, Unmoving Heart... how interesting," Rowan thought. He could see the potential in this move, and it meant that Telmus might still hold some surprises. It would seem that his following action might be a bit different.

With the Arena as a massive chessboard, Rowan made his next move.

® 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

This was the first time in his life that Telmus had ever allowed his instincts to take control of his abilities. He might appear carefree when he battled or intensely focused, but every move he made was carefully controlled to bring about his precise needs.

Telmus had a firm belief that he was invincible, yet, before the might of the first seven bloodlines of Trion, corrupted by the power of Primordial Demon, he found himself wanting.

His Will and Destiny, as powerful as they might be, still needed to be developed to the point where he could battle Primordials; although he was rapidly growing, it was clearly not enough.

Something had to change, and perhaps, instead of holding everything in his hand, he needed to learn to let go... this was his path.

Telmus did not try to rise. He did not try to block the meteor fist. He accepted its descent. He accepted the ocean.

And he became the sea-floor.

As the fist of granite and magma plunged toward him, Telmus thrust his will-blade upward, not to meet the fist, but to point at the heart of the titan itself. He poured not just his will, but his memory, his love, his grief, his defiance—all the things that gave his will its weight—into the blade.

It was as if he was giving up his defenses, but the truth was that it was the opposite; he had just found a new way to fight.

The sword of pure intention did not grow in size. It grew in density. It became a point of infinite spiritual mass, a singularity of purpose. His purpose. He was unbreakable; he could not be shaken!

The titan’s fist slammed down.

And it stopped.

It stopped a foot above Telmus’s body, arrested not by a block, but by the sheer, immovable weight of Telmus’s will focused into that single, upward point.

The granite of the titan’s fist around the point of contact shattered. The magma exploded outward, showering the area. The titan’s arm, all the way to the shoulder, vibrated with the shock of the arrested blow.

The corrupted creature roared in confusion and fury. It pushed down with all its immense and warped power.

The fist did not move. Telmus, lying beneath it, held it at bay. Not with muscle, but with meaning. The ocean had met the unbreaking stone of the sea-floor.

A web of cracks erupted from the Arena’s floor around Telmus for a hundred light-years as he held back a force that could not possibly be withstood by a being who was not a Primordial, because even a Primordial may lose a portion of its Origin from this blow. Still, Telmus held, and he was not just holding, he was evolving and countering the attack.

"HOW?" Xylos’s voice was a thunderclap of pure, uncomprehending rage.

Telmus, blood trickling from his lips, his side a ruin of blackened flesh, looked up at the beast, and for the first time, he smiled.

"You are power without context. You have always stolen strengths that were never your own. How could you ever understand, demon?" he rasped, his voice steady despite his wounds. I am will with purpose. You have the ocean. I have the shore. And you will break upon me. This is my response to you, demon: You shall taste my blade on your neck!"

With a scream of effort that tore from his very soul, Telmus shoved with his spirit. The impossibly dense point of his will-blade exerted a force that was not physical, but existential.

The titan’s fist was thrown back, and it began to unravel.

®

The titan’s roar of fury became a cacophony of seven distinct, agonized screams. Telmus’s ultimate defense, the Unbreaking Stone, Unmoving Heart, had done more than arrest the cataclysmic blow.

By focusing his will into a singularity of purpose, a point of existential density that rejected the very concept of forced fusion, he had not merely stopped the fist; he had struck at the metaphysical seams holding the abomination together.

He should not have been able to do this, but when he struck, it was as if his sword had been given a bit of guidance, and he was able to find the chink inside the binding force holding these bloodlines together.

The corruption of the demon inside the body of the titan shuddered violently as a pained scream of disbelief erupted from Xylos.

"Hahahaha... foolish child, they cannot fight my influence. Their maker chose to pick another choice."

"Foolish child, you think you understand the Wills of the Primordials!"

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