The Primordial Record - Chapter 2075 The Transformation of The Ancient Primordials

Chapter 2075  The Transformation of The Ancient Primordials

At the birthplace of the Ancient Primordials, in this bleak realm where no proper light of Origin had shone for a long time, madness and calamity accumulated in numbers that were beyond reason.

They might have been bound by madness for a long time, but that did not just harm them; it also showed them a path to power and strength that few would ever understand.

The strength of the Ancient Primordials did not fall; even with a single Origin under their belt, it was the opposite that was happening… they were getting stronger.

The Primordials were the children of Enoch, and in that sense, like Eos, they shared the talents of the Luminious. However, because they had been bound by madness, they never had the chance to fully explore their capabilities and grow in a manner outside their father’s control, but in the last hundred million years, the creation of their endless armies was not the only progress they had made; their understanding of their Origin had shot up as well.

The creation of the Origin Realms had revealed one of their greatest weaknesses, and that was that they were stagnant pools. A mere Incarnation of Eos had been able to break the boundaries of Existence and reach for the fifth level of an Origin Force, and yet, they, the Rulers of Origin, could not even fathom that there was a layer greater than the fourth.

Existence was expanding, and Limbo was shrinking. What they thought was the peak of power had been adjusted, and if they wanted to retake their thrones, they would have to shatter all the filth and the userpers who thought their time was over.

Still, the moment that the Origin Realms welcomed the birth of the fourth generation of Primordials, the Ancient Primordials felt it.

Their Origin may be corrupted, and they were falling from Origin’s Light, but it did not change the fact that the weight of their lives was truly stupendous.

Like vast mountain ranges that spread across creation, even if their skin had become numb, their massive bodies could still detect the changes in the flow of Origin, and this shook them from their apathy.

Eos’s plans were not hidden from their eyes, as they had seen the direction he was heading towards when they had consumed Telmus and saw his weird Origin of Defiant Ascension.

This was a new power, and while it was possible that it could lead to something spectacular in the future, the Ancient Primordials did not see it as a viable path in the long run. Perhaps if Eos was given a hundred million Cosmic Eras, then with his genuis, this new path he was creating would actually lead to a new branch in Origin that would be equally as powerful as the ancient path, but a hundred million cosmic eras had not passed, just a hundred million year, a blink of an eye, and already, this new path was beginning to mature.

The six Ancient Primordials sat on hollowed husks of dimensions and watched as the countless beings of slaughter and madness they were creating grew and multiplied. Their bodies were also changing, although this process was slow; however, with the growing understanding of their capabilities, this process was unstoppable.

This transformation of their bodies made their forms unstable, like the New Primordials who had just emerged from Eos’s Origin Land; however, the Ancient Primordials bled entropy, as their edges dissolved into the void like the memories of a forgotten tongue. Transformation was a painful process, and what the Ancient Primordials were doing was as transformative as an Old One ascending to become a Primordial.

These six had consumed so many similar Origins that even for them, it was hard to know exactly how much Origin they had inside of them. However, the battle with Death and the loss of their brother, Primordial Light, had shown them the truth.

While they could bully those who were weaker than them, if they faced an opponent that had similar strength to their own, they would be crushed.

Asteroath’s last words still haunted them, “I… I do not understand.”

Now, they understood, they would be foolish not to grow from that battle with Death, who had unknowingly shown the Ancient Primordials a path to power that they had not been aware of.

You see, Death had mocked them that while they were trying to hunt for more Origin Forces, it was doing the opposite, it was going for only the Origin that was the same as its own.

Just the fact that Death could accumulate more Origin Force in its body was abnormal, and the loss of Asteroath threw them off, but after a while, the Ancient Primordials had analyzed that final battle and saw that some things did not line up.

Death had claimed that the Primordials were making a mistake, and it had also proven it, but it seemed to have ignored the fact that every Primordial there had accumulated more similar Origin Force than it ever could.

The Origin Force of Death was a singular Force in the entirety of Existence, and no matter how deep into the shattered past it reached its claws, the number of Origin Forces of Death it could accumulate would not reach a third of what the Ancient Primordials would be able to gather by destroying Realities.

However, it had been able to win because it did something that the Ancient Primordials were not doing… it had fully absorbed all the powers of Death it had consumed.

While the Ancient Primordials were consuming Realities, the act had been an unconscious one, born from a mind consumed by madness and hunger, and they never tried to understand everything that their Origin was capable of.

The lesson Death had shown them was that attacking the Beast immediately after regaining freedom was a mistake. They could have digested their powers like it had done, and if only they had done that, then Death would have fallen to them with ease.

It was this mistake that the Ancient Primordials were now correcting, but on the surface, they were creating armies that would be sent against the Origin Realms, and now and then, they would release a few quadrillion of the weakest members of the horde against the Origin Realms to harass the defenders and learn more about their defenses.

Every day, their powers grew as more of their Origin Forces were crushed and assimilated, and their bodies always seemed to be in a state of endless advancement.

However, there was one individual among their number who was feeling unhappy with these advancements, and it was Nyxara.

The Previous arrangements she had made with Eos were breaking down before her eyes due to the fact that, as her siblings were getting stronger, the same weaknesses they had when they fought against Death had long vanished.

Nyxara had come to the terms that she wanted to eat her siblings, and she did not care if their individual power could be of aid to her. This had always been the plan from the beginning, and with every passing day, the difficulty of that plan grew harder.

It also did not help that inside her heart was the stabbing blade of Mercy, which made her flinch anytime she thought of killing her siblings.

“Eos, you damned bastard… when do you want to make a move? It seems that I have to be the one to push this battle forward.”