The Primordial Record

Chapter 1647: The Sky Whales Of Creation

To Rowan, who was a living dimension and could see through the thin veil that separated the essence of Reality from what others perceived, what he was looking at was the bones of Eosah, but what others would see was a shimmering expanse of cerulean radiance.

Rowan took a step forward and was nearly blown back by a mysterious wind that carried the whispers of newborn stars. His Will of space was like a hungry flame that began to devour this wind, and before long, Rowan became the eye of a storm.

Closing his eyes to assimilate the whispers within the wind, Rowan began his journey of contemplation.

A mournful wail emerged from the wind around him, and Rowan did not need to open his eyes to see that within the winds swirling into his body were phantoms of massive whales that reminded him of Cloudy.

They made long, enchanting calls that nearly stopped Rowan’s heart, as he could hear the desolation in their voices. They were all dead, but their spirit lived on, ignoring the betrayal of the children of Eosah and continuing their task in silence.

Across Rowan’s dimensional flesh, countless primitive runes began to appear, their shapes similar to those of the whales.

“Here lies the Sky Whales of Creation. They serve in the darkness to give all of Reality Light. See how they glid upon the Astral Currents, their songs weaving the fabrics of young galaxies.”

Rowan’s eyes flew open at the unexpected voice that intruded into his consciousness. The voice was that of a woman, and apart from that, he could not tell anything of it, as if knowledge of her had been destroyed.

The voice was Impersonal, like a teacher, and Rowan paused in contemplation for a while before opening himself to it.

It would seem that in this journey, he was going to acquire Space Origin and learn more about Eosah.

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A massive divine carriage pulled by dragons and phoenixes travelled through the void that separated the major Primordial Domains. Ten of these mighty beasts were present, and usually, they would have been roaming the dimensions, their power shaking all directions, but now they obediently pulled the carriage.

The area this carriage traveled through was filled with specks of starlight that glinted like gold, making it appear as if the carriage was traveling on a path made from treasures.

The heavenly beasts drawing the carriage were all eighth-dimensional Old Ones. A sight like this was rare even in this age, where powerful beings were seemingly sprouting out of mid-air with the proliferation of Primordial Essence throughout Reality.

An eye made from treasure jade inside the carriage looked through the windows, checking their surroundings. Satisfied that they were on the right path, they retreated, and a heavy voice like the sound of a mountain speaking resounded throughout the carriage’s interior.

“Master, the way ahead is clear, and we shall be in the Great Darkness before long.”

A lazy voice replied, “Speak softly, your master had to go to a lot of trouble to escape the labyrinth. Ah, so many years of efforts and treasures left behind… Oh well, at least I am escaping with most of my head still remaining above my neck.”

The interior of the carriage was not a hollow shell but a self-contained realm, a world unto itself. No wonder it required ten Old Ones, who were all powerful heavenly beasts, to pull it.

Upon entering the carriage, there was a grand atrium; its ceiling was so high that it mimicked the sky, upon closer look, this was not a mimicry but a sky filled with real stars and worlds, and the carriage seemed to have scraped a portion of the universe and enclosed it inside of itself.

The walls of this carriage were lined with towering bookshelves, with all the books made from treasured materials. If all knowledge were precious, then the vessel needed to convey that knowledge also needed to be equally as precious, if not more so, which should be clearly the thought process behind the creator of this library.

There were gilded mirrors that reflected endless corridors and staircases that spiraled into the unknown. The air hums with the quiet murmur of unseen mechanisms, the heartbeat of this colossal vessel.

The carriage was divided into countless chambers, each a microcosm of a different realm.

There was the Library of Forgotten Histories, a Ballroom frozen in time, a forest of clockwork trees, and a massive city within the walls filled with countless lives and immortals, few knew they were inside a carriage.

The heavy voice belonged to a being that resembled a golem made from all sorts of treasure gems, long beards made from metal wires that flowed entrancingly with treasure light.

This being was also an old one, and the presence he referred to as master was a white dragon, and their massive size made it clear why only a carriage of this size could carry them through the void.

They were both massive, bigger than the titans that had fought against the Omicron Berserkers, with a single claw from Vraegar measuring in the range of thousands of miles. Nonetheless, inside the heart of this dragon, he knew that he had a father whose size would make him look like an ant, and over the years, Vraegar had been searching for various methods to safely increase his size, so that one day he could be at least half the size of his father.

This golem was a powerful Labyrinth Specter that had lived in the Great Labyrinth for many Eras, accumulating wealth and power through the years, but after meeting his master, the great Monach of Gluttony, Vraegar, everything had changed for him.

In a short time, Vraegar had grown from a fifth-dimensional level Specter to the seventh-dimensional level, accumulating such great wealth that numerous Labyrinth Specters began to beg to follow him.

If not for the connection they had made in the beginning when Vraegar descended into the Great Labyrinth, the golem knew he would not have been chosen.

Now, Vraegar was on the verge of becoming an Old One, but instead of ascending inside the Great Labyrinth, he had chosen to leave and ascend outside of it.

This carriage was a Primordial Level Treasure that had been lying dormant at the center of the Great Labyrinth, and Vraegar had somehow awakened it. With such a pedigree behind him, the golem no longer questioned any decision made by the dragon.

Vraegar lay lazily on a bed made from condensed neutron stars infused with Malcine Silk. This silk was a treasure woven by the Malcine Spider, a powerful eighth-dimensional entity, and every inch of it was considered priceless.

The dragon was being massaged by millions of celestial maidens acquired from all over Reality, some of whom were even Angels, reaching the ranks of Sovereign. In the preparation to become an Old One, Vraegar was going all out to ensure his comfort and stability.

After the lessons from Andar, Vraegar was no longer rushing his advancement, choosing to cross each dimensional step, slowly but steadily, and it had paid off. The growth of his talents had become almost heretical in the last few years, as his power to attract and devour everything around him became more refined.

Vraegar would have loved to make his ascension to the ranks of Old One inside the Great Labyrinth, but he feared that with his ascension, he would not be able to hold back his talent, and he would devour a portion of the Great Labyrinth’s roots.

This would undoubtedly benefit him, but Vraegar was not foolish. He was in the realm of a Primordial, and his talents were far too powerful for an Old One like him to manage.

His instincts for danger were exquisite, and Vraegar could sense a terrifying presence watching over him from the moment he entered the Great Labyrinth.

If he were a betting dragon, Vraegar would wager that the eyes on him were a Primordial, but for some reason, they had not attacked him immediately, but seemed content to watch him.

There had also been other changes and opportunities that Vraegar had gained that did not seem quite as natural; it was as if someone was fattening him up for slaughter. Vraegar, knowing that he could not fight against the will of a Primordial, simply enjoyed the benefits, including this primordial treasure carriage.

However, Vraegar could sense that his elevation to the eighth-dimensional level could cause changes that he could not yet understand.

Andar had repeatedly told him how special his bloodline was, and the expectations that were needed by all those who were blessed by this power.

Like many others, Vraegar had watched the startling revelation that emerged from the Supreme World of Mages: Andar Erikson, a Magus genius, had seemingly ushered Reality into a new Era.

There was more to that story than meets the eye, and over the years, with the proliferation of Primordial Essence and the appearance of the Land of Origin, a terrifying truth became known to all.

A new power had arisen in Reality, one that was challenging all the Primordial Domains, and in the Land of Origin, all life would see the truth behind the endless deceit that had been the bane of all the living.

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