Chapter 115: Clash of Titans (4)

This darkness was similar to the one he first encountered inside the Control Hub. No, this was worse because he was directly in front of its origin.

The pulsating mass in front of him seemed to be one with darkness, and its presence had drained all light from the world. It was total darkness that was akin to black tar, it actively prohibited all light, leaving only a void, empty of all but... Evil!

What else would you call darkness that seemed to glory in pain and despair? The screams that were coming from the Sigils were silent because the darkness was consuming them.

Inside this darkness made him feel like he was inside the jaws of a foul beast, and instead of eating him, it was tasting his fear, sucking them down and relishing every drop.

But Rowan was not the same man he once was, his heart was also empty like the void, but where this darkness was filled with wickedness, despair, lamentations and foulness, his void was just deep, possessing an unfathomable depth beyond reason. The darkness could only taste the fear from the Sigils, not him.

Rowan willed it, and released Bone Rot. A tongue of green flame appeared on his palm, and he slowly fed essence to the flame, making it grow and expand.

He almost had to push the flames with his will before it would grow, for the darkness was refusing any light to pass through, but what Rowan had in abundance was essence, his vitality was an unquenchable torch.

It was not a matter of if the flame could burn the darkness, for him, it was only how much vitality was needed.

With every growth in his bloodline, Rowan always had to reevaluate his baseline, when he was a mortal, releasing all his vitality was equal to maybe half a percent of his current life-force. His Constitution had increased thousands of times over, and it showed in his ever-increasing essence store.

Throughout his fights, even with Augustus, he had never gone beyond twenty percent of his essence being released at once, there were two reasons for that, the first was that he mostly released his essence from his hands into his weapon or technique, so he only had to release the essence generated in his arms alone.

The second reason was that he lacked control over his essence. If he were to release all his essence at once, it would be like a flood, it would escape from every spot in his body in an uncontrollable manner, it would serve no purpose.

This also affected his magical techniques too, like the flames, but they were easier to manage because unlike pushing his essence through his body, he only had to funnel his essence to the magical technique inside his Spirit.

Technically, he should have no drawbacks in releasing all his essence into a particular technique, but he was held back by his Spirit, he could unleash all the vitality in the world but if his Spirit could not handle the strain, it would harmlessly scatter the technique.

If he wanted to reach his full potential, then he must be able to unleash all of his essence in a controlled manner, it would instantly multiply his might to an unknown degree, but that was something for the future.

Rowan began pouring vitality into Bone Rot, and the flame responded with a growing whoosh, the darkness could no longer press down on the flames, and it began to brighten and grew even larger.

When the flames were at least six feet across and large as a cow, he released it, and guided it with his Spirit, the bright flames went above him, releasing emerald light that pushed back the darkness.

The light revealed the two heads of the Ouroboros Serpents behind him, they were on his right and left, and their heads were so enormous, only a small portion of their snouts could be clearly seen, and their massive eyes glowing through the darkness.

The green flame also revealed the cocoon, which was releasing a constant stream of darkness, most likely it was a defensive mechanism against him.

Rowan released another ball of green flames and hovered it directly above the cocoon, he used a single finger to press against the cocoon, it was cold and slimy, and was not too tough.

Although going by Rowan's present standard of toughness, this cocoon was tougher than a sheet of stainless steel. Taking his finger away, the darkness and cold lingered on it, before his burning vitality dispersed it.

Bringing up the Axe, Rowan slashed down, and a man wrapped in a fetal position slid out of the cocoon. The skin of the man was chalk white, and there was no visible hair on his head, eyes, or skin. His eyes were closed and unsettling enough, when he breathed, his chest did not move, only his stomach.

He had no belly button as a spectral cord of darkness was attached to it, that soon dispersed as Rowan tore through the cocoon, this detail struck him as vitally important

On his hands and toes were black nails shaped like claws that seemed to drink in darkness, and underneath his eyelids there seemed to be an orb radiating darkness, for slivers of black glow escaped his closed eye.

Rowan nearly knelt in pain, as the Primordial Record was pounding itself against his Spirit, it yearned to collect something from this individual.

Wait a minute... Rowan froze, as he pushed the head of the man to the side, so he could properly expose his facial features.

The face was pale and smooth like an egg, and it was devoid of any facial hair, it had a high cheekbone and a strong jaw line, all its features put together was the face of Rowan.

Why was a clone of him here? Although it contained some inhuman features, it was still him. Perhaps this could answer his question about how he saw so many bodies inside that room that had his face, but were not him.

He was sure that if he checked those bodies, they wouldn't have any belly buttons, could this be the reason his vitality was so weak when he awoke? That meant his essence was previously drained to create clones to test the effects of the Singularity on them.

Rowan once thought about the reason he was chosen to undergo what was most likely a very rigorous experiment to merge the Singularity with him, knowing he could die at any moment if he was excessively strained. His Constitution was weak, but it did not mean he still lacked life-force.

The most likely method if he thought about it was that they had extracted his essence to create clones of him, that process must be the reason he had regressed to a childlike body.

Rowan did not doubt that they would be able to do something like this, and the reaction of the Primordial Record meant that there was something of itself inside this body, which was enough proof.

A quick scan with his perception showed that this body was an exact copy of his previous body, Rowan shaking hands touched the face and the eyes of the man opened; it was green like a blooming field in summer.

The eyes held confusion for a second before recognition set in, and Rowan saw understanding in those eyes. Whatever method was used to create these clones, it also gave them memories, "I... I... run, it's coming...you need to save..."

It struggled to speak, as a tear ran down the side of his eye, but Rowan understood what he meant, he wished for him to escape saving himself.

Rowan nodded at his clone, "It is okay... look at me, I don't need to run anymore, it is time for them to run."

The clone must have recognized something in Rowan's serpentine gaze, and slowly smiled, that was his last expression before the light behind his eyes vanished, and the green eyes went black. His familiar presence was gone, replaced by the darkness, which came to inhabit it.

The creature smiled at him.