The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1798

Chapter 1798: Seed’s Final Testament

Except for the charging of Major Eras, destruction of this scale had never been witnessed before. Escaping from that destructive event was a miracle.

But the battle was not done. The backlash from the Demon’s failed Dance of Final Silence reached them even here.

A wave of unmaking, the death scream of the Great Abyss, washed over the area. The tree-gate that was Seed glowed brightly, a final act of defiance, and then shattered into a million motes of green light that were instantly extinguished by the expanding nothingness. The portal winked out.

Seed was gone. Utterly. His sacrifice had saved them, but the path back was sealed forever.

They were alone in the barren wastes: a pale dragon, a phoenix god, five broken children of Eos, and two traumatized mages. Behind them, where the Arena and the Great Abyss had been, there was only a swirling, chaotic nebula of dying energies—a scar on the face of Reality.

They had witnessed powers that treated their immortality as a fleeting curiosity. They had seen two of their companions, ancient and powerful in their own right, snuffed out like candles. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

They did not speak. There were no words. The stability of Vraegar had been replaced by a cold, grinding horror. The fiery spirit of Fury was banked, embers of shock and grief. The harmonious light of the Elythrii was fractured into five separate pools of sorrow. The mages sat in stunned silence, their understanding of magic irrevocably broken.

They were survivors, but haunted not by ghosts, but by the enormity of their own insignificance.

The memory of that battle—a conflict beyond all comprehension, beyond myth, beyond divinity—was seared into their souls. They had escaped with their lives, but they had lost something far more precious: their certainty. And they knew, with a chilling dread, that the shockwaves of that battle were only just beginning to spread.

The last embers of the green portal, the final sacrifice of the being called Seed, have faded into the grey. One of the mages, Lila, stares at a small, smooth object in her hand: a single, petrified seed, dark as obsidian, which she found resting where the gate had vanished.

As her fingers brush it, a whisper, thin and dry as a dead leaf, fills the silence around them. Everyone here stiffened as they felt the voice brush across their mind; it is not a sound, but a thought projected from the last fading spark of Seed’s consciousness.

“I had always known that this would happen, and I did not want to leave any message behind, but my life has been long, and if it deserves nothing, perhaps a testament to send me off to oblivion.”

“You are safe. For now. That is the only victory this old man could secure. I do not do this for you all, but for my daughter and my… grandson. Ah, who am I kidding, I do not deserve to call him that.”

“Even though I don’t think it is likely, I would like to point out that you should not mourn for me. The tree does not mourn the leaf that falls to nourish its roots. My ending has a purpose. Yours will be, I am sure, in the future. Well, that is all I have to say… hmm, perhaps a final gift. You know that I saw the Great Abyss end, so let me tell you what I witnessed. Knowledge like this is not something lesser immortals like us should come across, so I take great pleasure in telling them to you.”

“I could not see the battle as you all would, our perceptions are different. I have no eyes for such light, such fury. My sight is… different. I feel the soil. I feel the roots of the world. And what I felt… I must describe, for it is a horror that must be remembered, even if the memory is a poison, but I am the Tree of Wrath, and my Will is strong.”

“I wish I could accurately describe to you the end of the Abyss. This Primordial Domain… simply… wilted. Like a plant whose roots are cut. The weight of all that had happened here—the pride, the history, the very reason for the conflict—it grew thin. It became a ghost.”

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