The Primordial Record

Rowan stopped speaking and for a while there was silence, his words remained in the space around them, tempting them and revealing the tantalizing possibilities of a future where power like no other could be harvested.

Everyone here had that unique spell, weapon, resources, and myriad of other exotic materials that were invaluable, for the Archmages here, what would it be like if they could have an extra Tower? Or the material they had been saving for advancement suddenly doubling?

This was the least of the possibilities, the greatest treasure would be merging with themselves, since their powers and essence were practically one and the same, then merging with their bodies in that universe would not double their power but multiply it exponentially, they could reach heights that they would have never dreamt of touching.

Among the Will Holders, they were all aware of the ultimate strength revealed by the Third Prince and they all feared for their safety, they were also greedy in their heart as they contemplated the possibility that merging with their Will once more could lead to an elevation in power. There had never been a situation like this where they could have unhindered access to the past with no repercussions, and the desire to seize this prospect filled their hearts.

It was only natural that the commotion that erupted shook Rowan's broken dimension. If what Rowan spoke of was true, then this was a chance for them to gain power and resources beyond their wildest dreams.

There was no doubt that what Rowan spoke of was the truth, somehow it seemed impossible for any lie to emerge from his lips, and it was strange that no one here thought of this peculiarity, it all seemed natural that everything he said was the fact.

Rowan's Will of Truth was slowly revealing its insidiousness as he grew stronger, at the Third Dimensional level, across space, anything he spoke was automatically taken to be the fact. If Rowan were to say the sea was made of fire, then the sea would become flames.

As the Will of Truth developed in the future then it would be possible for Rowan to rewrite Reality as he saw fit. Another aspect of this Will was that his words were easier to be believed by any sentient being. The irony of the Will of Truth was that it made Rowan the best liar.

Yet he truly did not need to lie, because Rowan understood that doing so was going against his Will, but he also knew that Truth was malleable, he would not lie, but he could also select the words he spoke, and would leave it to the interpretation of his audience.

Unlike everyone here charmed by the promise of power, the Third Prince felt the opposite. He could feel the words of Rowan warping the reality around him, and the fear he had been feeling had not died down, it was the opposite. There was something extremely diabolical about Rowan, he appeared like a being of light, but inside him was nothing but darkness, and it would seem that he was the only one here who could tell that something was wrong.

The eyes of the Third Prince narrowed and his voice broke through the hubbub, even some weak immortals and Archmages were already gearing up to cross the bridge, they wanted to reap as many benefits from the universe before the bigger players entered the game,

"Your words are extremely sweet Rowan. Tell me, boy, if this is the case, why should we follow your rules, we still hold all the cards." the Third Prince's voice silenced the crowd, he gestured behind him, "In case you are forgetting something we are fighting a war, and in wars, there are no rules or bargains, we are here to take! You make mandates but where are your armies? You have no privilege here but to be plundered, and we shall not follow your rules to do so."

Rowan nodded, "Plundering the spoils of the fallen is your right, for this is war, but as you should have inferred, your war has already been won and lost. Look around you Third, there is nothing but death and ruin. The power you seek to plunder from my dimension is gone, and it can only be found on this other side of the bridge. I know what you seek Third, and you shall not find it inside that ruin." Rowan noticed that the eyes of the Third Prince twitched when he referred to him as Third, he smiled internally and continued,

"I don't need to remind you that this spell of mine has a limited lifespan, you should understand that a spell of this magnitude would require an unbelievable amount of resources to maintain it, and I will not be able to hold it for long, if you don't take this opportunity before you, then you will regret it, all your life."

His words drew a fresh gasp of anxiety as many here including the Demon Kings and the Will Holders began to consider his words in Ernest, only the Third Prince smiled and interjected,

"No matter how many benefits we stand to gain, the price is too much, we here have not forgotten the hefty toll we paid just to break through your dimension Rowan, tens of millions of Immortal have died true deaths, why should we risk it all again, we shall wait for your spell to end, and we shall make do with what we have, believe me Rowan, killing you would be the greatest reward, remember, I still know you have something extremely precious inside your body."

He turned to the rest of the gathering, "Do not forget that we paid such a hefty price to get to this point, and many friends and families you have known for an eternity had perished in this place, never to see the light of the day anymore, and we were only fighting the servants of the castle! How much more terrible do you think the master of the castle would be? How much sacrifice would we need to make to cross this bridge that leads to riches we would never grasp? Banish the light of greed from your heart, and know that the Chalice of Salvation that he offers contains nothing but poison."

Those words from the Third Prince, a powerful Will Holder and the strongest in the army advising caution were enough to break many of their greedy thoughts, and away from attempting to fight for the benefits present in the other dimension.

They all watched as millions of their brethren were shattered before the might of his armies, why would they think they could ever benefit from crossing the master himself? They should be grateful for what they have and lick their wounds, looking to the future for any other opportunities.

"Oh, but that is where you are wrong Third," Rowan replied and brought the head of his Great Axe to his left palm and squeezed, opening his palms he presented it to the crowd and cries of shock and amazement rippled through them.

Rowan's palm was bleeding, and this blood was not the blood of an Immortal that meant nothing but a loss of energy and could be rapidly recovered, no, this was the blood of a mortal, precious because of its incredible fragility.