The Primordial Record novel Chapter 80

Chapter 80 [Bonus chapter] Battle Without End (Final)

General Augustus Tiberius had ten seconds to live.

He roared and channeled the inexhaustible Aether granted by his Incarnations. He burned the roots of his bloodline down to his marrow, as his flesh wilted into a dry husk, but the Tiberius family controlled blood, and he was refilled instantly.

Augustus gathered everything into a blood orb the size of a pin head, and he made it explode at the two reaching hands that had been tearing into him for the past three hours.

Space collapsed and chaos emerged, everything instantly was destroyed, his body quaked and shattered into pieces multiple times, and his third Incarnation went lackluster, he was down to his last, but he knew it would not be enough.

The tool, he thought would be the source of his protection, became the source of his impending demise. _{freewebnσvel.cѳm}

His mind returned, to a faithful night, fifty-five years ago, when he received a cryptic message from an organization called The Order of The Broken Eye. They came to him when he had just returned from the front lines in the Northern Continent.

The last battle there had been rough, and he knew he could not take much of this fight before he would inevitably fall. The losses in the last fight had been catastrophic.

He had nearly died a true death multiple times, but that was not what bothered him. He was a child from the bloodline of Tiberius–The God of War. Likewise, he did not expect he would die in his bed of old age.

No. He expects to die screaming in his own torn out guts, with endless miles of devastation around him, yet he wanted his death to have meaning.

Tiberius, unlike the other gods, did not value potential all that much, what he gave importance to, was power!

Augustus had the potential to become one of the strongest weapons in the hands of Tiberius, but that would take a long time, and he was not particularly unique in that aspect, as he knew of a dozen Dominators with his potential. The War God was not a patient one, he would not wait for him to bloom.

What he craved was endless battle, and he saw no difference between the fight between two mortals or two dominators. In his lofty position, they were all the same, what he craved was the endless song of blades, the torrential downpour of blood that would flood the world.

What the War God craved, was a Battle Without End.

In the endless rat race of a Dominators life, as they strived for powers under the gaze of unforgiven gods, Augustus knew he would not make it. Somewhere in that unavoidable next battles he would fight, he was going to perish there.

His death would be meaningless, just one of the countless statistics that was war. His life and story would be buried below an ocean of blood and bodies, and the name Augustus Tiberius would be nothing but a footnote, under a pile of footnotes a mountain tall.

How could he accept this? He had broken past the First Great Cycle and was on the threshold of the second, he had tasted power and longevity, why would he let all that slip from his grasp?

The Gods were eternal and merciless, and no matter how much the pitiful Dominators struggled under them, hoping for recognition and care, it was nothing but a fever dream.

"Placing your hopes in the gods, is building a castle on a foundation of loose sand." A few decades ago, Augustus would have killed anyone who made such a blasphemous statement, but now he just gazed at these two figures before him with apathy.

"Surely, there must be a good reason, why you would speak such words to me." Augustus snarled, "A member of The justice council is somewhere behind that mountain, I scream a little loud, and your heads would lie at my feet in a moment."

"Oh, but we know you would not do anything, Augustus after all, how many people would spurn the chance to transcend the tyranny of the shackles placed on them by the very gods they serve?" The Third prince smiled.