The Primordial Record novel Chapter 140

Chapter 140 The Town (final)

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Rowan swept his Spatial sight and saw a large gap that had been opened by a mountain by the west, it had left a small valley where only a few thousand could pass through. _{freewёbn૦νeɭ.com}

Rowan accessed his chances of making it through safely, and it was fairly manageable, only about seven of the creatures in that valley were equal to the wolf, and anything below that was not his concern. He finally concluded that he could go through that route, and he would escape most of the army, as he cleared his way to freedom.

Setting his sights towards that passage, he began analyzing the foes he would face as he waits for his Aether to recover until its maximum amount.

Knowing it would take at least five minutes for that to happen because he had spent it all using Spatial sight, his mind could not help but wander.

Everyone in that town was dead, they might not know it yet. Even if they tried to escape now, how far could they really run before the entire world was overrun?

Why is he thinking of something that I had no control over? He was still a Legendary Dominator, no matter how he tried to push his abilities, there were things beyond his reach for the moment.

Flashes of the screams he heard back inside the Nexus came to him, his perfect memory served as a white canvas for all the screams and pain and desperation to paint themselves in glaring red. So much red, he felt like he was about to drown.

He forced it away, placing his gaze on the valley, checking each creature and trying to formulate every move he was going to be making.

But, they returned once more, the memories, a flood of them. Rowan knelt down on the ground and he screamed.

Inside the Nexus, your actions were somewhat justified. Your will was being twisted, and you could never know where your emotions emerged from. Was your love and concern being forced into you? Were the gratitude of the people you met only manufactured? Where did your humanity end and the beast began? That snarling thing whose only concern was to survive?

It was the correct thing for you to escape that hell. But, if you run from those people you can protect, you will never stop running. You would always give excuses about your actions, about the tribulations you face, you would be so wrapped up in yourself you forget the oath you swore not so long ago…

That you were going to live…

During his three hours of running, he had found himself in a small meadow, and his screams had disturbed hundreds of butterflies that were relaxing from the heat of the day.

They erupted all around him in a host of flashing colors and iridescent lines that made everything around him fade into a mystical haze.

Rowan glanced at the beauty surrounding him, their lives were so short. Gone in a blink of an eye, but could it be said that they never really lived?

What gave the lives of the butterfly meaning? Their beauty would likely go unnoticed, and their lives would pass away without stirring a single leaf in the timeline of the universe.

Yet, was their existence meaningless?

What was the criteria for judging a life well spent? How would he judge his life?

It did not take a long while for Rowan to make a decision.

He was not afraid of death. He was not afraid of pain, nor despair, or anger, sorrow…

He was not afraid of any of that, he had sampled each of those in his life and they had not broken him.