The Primordial Record

At the Heaven State, the Berserker Clone could use all its techniques with no limitation and even use them in various imaginative means impossible for a normal body to perform.

Rowan had become familiar with using the Berserker Clone to battle, and because it did not feel pain and could perform other actions autonomously even while being controlled directly by Rowan, it made it a very potent tool for battle.

The Berserker Clone did not disappoint as with each sweep of its blade, it slices it way through hordes of elemental soldiers, dodging blows with only the least movement and tanking the small hits that could not break through its armor. For those wide scale attacks, it would simply phase away by using Dash and teleport around them.

Rowan merged everything he had learned, all the battles he had fought, all the techniques he had witnessed and he was still losing. Whatever move he made was studied and countered, Erohim moved the entire army like a single entity, and the only thing keeping Rowan in the fight was the might of his Berserker Clone.

Rowan Heaven state techniques felt childish before the movements of the god's army, and he soon began accumulating wounds on his Clone, which was bleeding red mist.

The female face of Erohim sneered and for the first time it spoke, "You should have taken the deal, and accepted our mercy, now you shall face the true wrath of a god!"

An unexpected strike pierced through the Berserker Clone chest, and it destabilized its momentum, another strike went towards its head, and he batted it away, but the action sliced off the limb. It was slowly regenerating but not as fast as Rowan would have liked, as the blow from those soldiers of Erohim had the same destruction properties ravaging his main body.

Back towards Rowan's main body, which was now the size of an apple, and was glowing white-hot as it slowly shrank towards oblivion.

He could let that happen, for these flames of destruction would ravage his Mental Space, and Rowan had a premonition that if it did, it would destroy his Palace of Ice, and any further resurrection he did would be subjected to the same flame. No matter how many times he returned from death, the flames would remain in his Mental Space and continually kill him until he ran out of lifespan.

Rowan knew he was at the risk of true death once more. This time it would be final, for the abilities of a god could counter his own.

Rowan's mind went cold.

His Berserker Clone had the same eyes as him, eyes like dragons, with a gaze so cold everything before it was meaningless. The Aether flowing through Rowan could freeze souls, in addition to that, with the loss of Rowan Ice–Fire Soul leading to the loss of Spatial Sight, his empathy, and fear had been slowly stripped away until he was turning into a pure force of nature.

Even at the edge of death, he had no fear. His body had shrunk to the size of a quail egg, and yet his actions were unhurried, as the Berserker Clone dodged and fought back against the army of Creatures assaulting him, but it was soon surrounded as the rate he killed could not equal to the amount of elemental soldiers being created.

"No matter how special or how powerful you are, at the end, you are nothing but a mortal, pledge your service to me, and submit your essence to my hold, or die."

Rowan was getting to really hate the voice of Erohim, but he let that fade from his consciousness, and embraced the coldness within, he synchronized all his consciousness including the one holding back his pain from being destroyed by the destructive flames.

Breath in…

Many paths lead to the same destination. Yet, the path that I have chosen is a narrow one!

Breath out…

But, I will have it no other way. I promised to keep a seed behind, no matter how much I slaughter, no matter how many worlds fall to my hands, I shall always preserve their seed, and in that manner I shall keep them under my protection for all eternity.

Suriel's words reached him one last time as he flew above the convoy, the Angel allowed himself to be seen by the mortals below him, and he spread out his wings of flames; his light covered the entire convoy,"Creator, I protect the seed."

"Good." Rowan growled, he had learnt his lesson twice, and it was one time too many… No one would take what he was his.

Free from any other distractions, Rowan went all out.

Inside his Palace of Ice he now had three completed Soul Crystal and without hesitation, he crushed one, he pulled ten eyes from his throne and imbued ten Angels of Char with eyes, their flaming wings lit up the ice crystals of the Palace making it shine so bright it lit up a corner of his Mental Space.

(There were no Archangels among them, as Rowan did not have any Archangels or higher in the entire 11,458 Angels of Char he now had with him. That was not a problem, however, at his present levels of power there was virtually no difference in any of the Angels he summoned, only when he began fusing Angels would the true difference emerge, as those without higher potential would remain as Angels forever.)

At the moment of their birth they knew their assignment he gave to them, they bowed before his throne and they emerged to protect his body.

All angels had various powers, but a central power intrinsic to all of them was Pyrokinesis—The ability to control flames.

Maybe one Angel would not be able to fight against these flames, but ten Angels could, besides he just needed them to hold back the flames for a very short while.

The ten Angels appeared in all their glory and their light pierced through the flames covering his body that was now the size of a single grain of sand, and as one they opened wings of flames and shielded him from the Destruction ravaging him, pushing it away from him.

In three seconds his regenerative ability won against the destructive flames eating away at him for they no longer had more fuel.

In six seconds, he was whole again, and his golden serpentine eyes snapped open.