The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1794

Chapter 1794: The Dance Complete

Primordial Demon knew he was losing. The perfect, polished geometry of his demonic form was chipped, cracked, and his Origin Force was nearing exhaustion.

The Great Abyss was collapsing, as he had sucked out every bit of Origin Force from inside their structure just to keep himself alive. In all his Eras of life, he doubted he had seen a warrior like Rowan, who seemed to be a perfect fusion of multiple impossible concepts.

‘So, this is the road beyond Origin. This is the Destiny that has been denied to us. Ah, there is still a chance for me to seize it.’

Primordial Demon recalled the entire process of their battle. Rowan was not a superior artist; he was more like a force of entropy, weathering the masterpiece of his superior martial talents into rubble.

The adaptability he had was infuriating; it was a constant, grinding corrosion of his certainty in his power. In this realization, born of desperation and rage, the Demon found a final, terrible clarity. If he could not outfight this entity, he would have to pull out all the stops… he would have to un-write him.

His attacks must be so fierce that Rowan’s recovery ability would not be able to catch up.

Primordial Demon disengaged, leaping back across the boiling plains of forgotten hope. His breathing, for the first time, was not the steady rhythm of a master, but the ragged heaving of a cornered beast.

He did not assume a stance. Instead, he began to move in a way that was alien to the fluid, efficient violence he had displayed thus far. These movements were slow, deliberate, heavy with finality.

They were not meant to strike a body, but to strike at the concept of existence itself. Rowan had proven to have obtained all the inheritance of his previous self, Eos, making him a dangerous entity the likes of which had never been seen before, because no Reality in existence could wield their Origin the same way that Rowan was doing.

These movements he was making were the Dance of the Final Silence, a kata so profound that its mere initiation began to distort the crumbling Abyss around them. The very air grew thick and still, as if reality itself was holding its breath.

Primordial Demon made the first move in the dance. His left hand swept out in a flat, cutting arc. It did not move through space, but through time. The motion was a blade aimed backward. Rowan’s eyes widened in astonishment when he realized he could not dodge this blow, and it didn’t matter how far away from the Primordial Demon he was; once he was targeted, this technique would reach him.

Rowan could hear the entire dying Abyss screaming as he felt a sickening lurch, a phantom pain as a version of himself from one second ago was conceptually severed.

It was like having the roots of a tree axed. The immediate effect was disorientation, a loss of foundation. He stumbled, his knowledge of the fight’s immediate history becoming fuzzy, unreliable. The Demon did not pause. The dance demanded continuity.

The Demon’s right palm thrust forward, not towards Rowan, but towards the space between them. A wave of absolute stasis radiated outwards. Sound died. The particles of dust and energy hanging in the air froze in place. Rowan felt his own bodily functions screech to a halt. His heart stopped mid-beat. His neurons froze, thought ceasing.

‘Damn, that is impress—’

He was trapped in a single, excruciatingly stretched moment of now, a fly in amber. Within this enforced stillness, the Demon moved, unaffected, the sole actor on a frozen stage.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify