The Primordial Record

Soul energy was indispensable when he used this map because he needed to simulate battling with these Primordial forces, and he had no way of expressing their powers unless he had a source of energy that could become anything.

Only with this power would anything he was doing here be accurate, of course with his powerful mind he could simulate the effects of these Primordial powers well enough, but there would always be a margin of error no matter how minute, and when this tiny error was placed in a battlefield that spans countless dimensions, even a tiny error would transform into something apocalyptic, soul energy made sure he was accurate, one hundred percent of the time.

Rowan was not too concerned with the technicalities of the powers being displayed here, especially by his enemies, although they were precise, it did not mean that it would serve him well if he was to copy it, the whole purpose of this map was to find weaknesses, not more weapons or spells.

A new round of battle began as another day passed in Reality and Rowan sat back after thirty million years.

He remained in place for almost a thousand years, not moving as vast streams of information flowed through his mind until it subsided after a while, and Rowan had the sudden urge to throw up.

This was not a physical reaction, just something that came from a soul that had been dragged through an experience that it was never made to feel. As alarming as this sensation was, especially for a being like him, Rowan also found it fascinating that his soul was being taken to the limits like this because for him, pain represented growth, and his growth for the last fifty million years put together had been unceasing.

Thirty million years of scheming and hidden battles on countless dimensions and Rowan had still lost again, after the first thousand years of battle, he saw defeat on the horizon but he still pushed on till the end. An end that he extended for thirty million years.

His defeat had been a bit longer unlike his last sojourn, ten million years longer, but it had always seemed inevitable.

He had weakened the forces of the Primordials, taken them to a point that had exceeded what he had previously achieved, and then something had changed, and before he could adjust his plans to take advantage of these changes, he was crushed.

He had to watch trillions of his children die, his plans shattered and his Will laid to dust, so Rowan closed his eyes for a thousand years to process this battle, and when the hurt began to fade, he drew back the soul energy that was spent and Rowan plunged back into the map as he adjusted his plans once again.

This time he was not going to be subtle, he was going to be loud. He had gathered enough information about the description of the forces of the Primordials and Rowan wanted to see what he could do with all that he had to put into play.

It did not surprise him that this battle did not last for long. Barely four million years had passed and he had exhausted all of his powers, and a single golden light stood at the center of Reality for a long time, battling against foes far past when it should have been able to, but he still fell at the end.

Rowan sighed as he closed his eyes and stood up, the map and the Arcane arms were humming, their refinement had reached a critical junction and they needed time to digest the gains of that battle. He did not hurry to retrieve the soul energy inside the map, leaving this treasure to consume as much as it could.

He believed that he had gotten what he wanted from the map at this time, and his path forward could not be any more clear.

Among the many reasons he had created this map, there had been two primary purposes for it that had now been fulfilled.

The first of those purposes was for Rowan to find out the hidden powers of every Primordial Domain outside the Primordials themselves that had the ability to threaten him.

Rowan no longer feared Old Ones, perhaps in great enough numbers they would be able to kill him, but it was almost difficult for him to imagine a scenario where he would be able to be pinned down long enough by multiple Old Ones until they could finish him off.

However, Rowan did not believe for an instant that Old Ones were the most powerful weapons that the Primordial Domains would have against him.

It turned out that he was right about these speculations, as every Primordial Domain had hidden weapons and people whose abilities were so powerful that they had long exceeded what an Old One was capable of, and with his experience owning a Singularity, he believed that some of their abilities suggested that they also had Singularities of their own.

Then there were the weapons, all great and terrible, with abilities that were extremely dangerous even for a being like him, Rowan still remembered the bite of their edges as they cut through the vast swatch of his children.

After fifty-five million years of battle, Rowan believed that he had been able to compile the list of every dangerous individual and weapon from six of the seven Primordial Domains.

Up till this moment, he had not been able to pull out any of the powers of Primordial Soul, her secrets were locked firmly behind the Gate of Oblivion, and she remained the greatest mystery here.

Of the list that he had occupied, Rowan was mostly focused on one.

Land of Miracles, Domain of Primordial Life, Extremely Dangerous — Seed, Tear of Wrath.

This bastard had killed him so many times.

Rowan was not even mad at being killed by this old man, what he hated the most was his laughter. Unlike many of his enemies and the most he had faced along the way, Seed enjoyed battle.

Enjoyment was a term that Rowan still felt was too short to accurately describe what Seed manifested when he was in battle, especially when it came to fighting Rowan.

He could still hear his fucking laughter,

"Hahaha hahaha, grandson, I Live for this!"