The Primordial Record-Chapter 1471 Wielding Memory

The bow of the Archer Myra had fused with her body, also transforming into stone, but when Rowan touched it, it easily entered his grasp, even as the statue of the Archer began to collapse as well as her bow, they had endured and now it was time to rest.

Rowan did not panic at this collapse, knowing that he was here to simply direct the flaming bolt already primed by Myra, who in death had held this shot back for the right moment, and this bolt had been charging up all this while, fueled by her resolve to kill the creature responsible for the death of all she knew and loved, this bolt that was held in place by a supreme will that could challenge those of any immortal.

It was a simple thing for him to direct that bow toward the target and as the bow collapses into dust in his hands following the path of its wielder, Rowan crouched, exposing as little surface area of his body as he could and braced himself for what was to come. He did not know if he would survive it, but there was a possibility that the power inside this last bolt would be able to kill the Dark One, and for him, this was enough.

His perception could not follow the arrow after it left the bow, it had far exceeded the limits that any mortal mind could follow, even his own, he only saw the Dark One freeze for the barest of a moment, no longer struggling to eject the blades that Rowan had stuck in his joints and was trying to move out of the way when the bolt must have stuck him dead center.

Everything went white. Rowan felt his nerves frying to nothing under an obscene amount of heat, then he felt nothing, it was a relief.

He could briefly feel his bones breaking and his flesh being compacted with so much force that he felt if his body had been any less durable he would have been flattened.

Everything was in chaos, but his mind was pushing through the haze, grasping for awareness with a madness that was hard to describe, when he found it, reality slammed into him, carrying with it all its pains and burdens, and he accepted them all just as he discovered that he was falling.

Rowan had underestimated how much energy Myra had been able to pack inside that last bolt of arrow, and he felt that he was quite lucky that he had reached her when he did, because such great force would have soon exploded when the limits of Myra Will was breached, and even now, when he channeled that power towards the Dark One, the resultant explosion that followed had ripped the ball of flesh to pieces and shot him out of it like a cannonball. He must have barely received a fraction of the force that the Earth god had received, and it had nearly killed him.

He must have been out of it for a while because the ground was far closer to him than he would have liked, and directly above him was the flaming carcass of the ball of flesh plummeting towards the earth like a meteor. It was almost like a falling sun was heading towards him, burning with a white abs reddish flame that shone over the entire continent, and despite the storm, it was as if dawn was rising from the earth.

Rowan smirked inside, if he was not going to be crushed to pieces the moment that he landed on the ground, the remnants of the ball of flesh would grind down and incinerate him not long after.

It was almost funny the crazy amount of danger that this fleshy body had to withstand, and it was even crazier that he found that his state of mind was becoming even more firm under this stimulation.

There were a few seconds before he reached the ground, and Rowan finally let go of the last bit of immortal pride in his heart, assuming the form of a mortal in truth as he admitted aloud to the heavens and the earth,

"I need help. I cannot do this alone."

There seemed to be silence, and then the world responded.

The mad Earth god had killed countless mortals in the millions of years of his cursed life, and even Rowan was unaware of that number, what he had seen here was simply the destruction of a single continent and the death of the millions who had once called this place their home, what he could not have known was the foundation of this continent was built on countless bodies, and if his mortal senses had been as powerful as his immortal own, then he would have seen the souls locked in constant torment, under the thumb of an Earth god that had gone insane with power and the greed to possess all of it.

Millions of years of slaughter and desperation, all for a dream that would mean nothing if it was gained. Rowan would have pitied the Dark One if only he had not gone out of his way to enjoy his depravities.

The response of the heavens and the earth shocked Rowan out of his stupor, and he finally acknowledged that as he was now, he was a mortal, and he was connected to a collective, no longer a distinct personality as an immortal, but an entity that derived strength from his fellows.

He distinctly remembered the color of a mortal's soul, filled with lights like a rainbow, open and porous, able to absorb all forms of experiences and still give out their unique light, and after so long he seized the power of a mortal.

A man could not fight a god, not alone, if a companion of seven would not do, then what about a companion of millions... Billions.

From below him, a flood of skulls arose from the Earth in their billions, rising to meet the falling Rowan, and unlike when they were used in battle against the Dark One, this time they were not screaming, just silent, but their Will burned the air, it was enough of a message to brand itself across reality, and Rowan was stunned, as he realized that this was what it meant to wield Memory.

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