The Primordial Record -
Chapter 1595: To The Core
The state of the realm was slowly being revealed when Aeynid Erikson, along with many higher-dimensional mages, began destroying the spells they cast to peer into it. Panic filled their souls, but it was already too late. They had seen too much.
Not much of the realm’s actual state had been revealed, but in the brief glimpse that had been seen, they observed that everyone who remained in the realm and gave them orders to return was dead, and their manner of death was incredibly strange.
Alarm bells blared in the minds of the higher-dimensional mages, and they screamed out a warning, but it was too late. Many mages, numbering in the hundreds of millions, had already used their observational spells and looked at the Magus Realm, and what happened below began to spread among those who saw it.
Mages numbering in the hundreds of millions, notwithstanding their rank, simply… unraveled. Their bodies stretched into spirals, with the very atoms that made up their being dispersing along unseen axes.
This corruption spread to more mages who saw this astonishing sight, and they perished as well. In mere moments, nearly a billion were dead!
“Run! This is not a place for lower immortals any longer!”
Panic and fear spread across the masses, and everyone began to flee, returning the way they came ten times faster than before. Death followed them closely on their heels, and close to two percent of the returning mages were lost.
This number was in the tens of billions.
The death toll would have been countless times worse than this if not for the fact that the majority of the mages had slowed down during their return, as it was highly possible that they would have all perished if more of them had taken a glimpse at that realm.
“What is happening down there?”
“So many… dead. Don’t look at any remains! Close away your perception!”
It took a while before any meaningful organization took shape, and a general consensus emerged to flee from the realm and seek another distant dimension.
With the growing power of the mages, it should be easy for them to seize a smaller dimension to settle. They might wish to return for Andar, but none of them had the power to do so.
With the decision made, it was now a matter of picking the right dimension and making plans for their invasion when the surrounding space began to shake and then shatter.
From the shattered space emerged beings of light and gold—the Celestial Host.
Crossing through the massive gulf of space that separated the Primordial domain of Light from the Magus realm, the Celestial Hosts came through in nearly endless numbers.
The mages were frozen by the grand display of power that was slowly being arrayed before them, where the lowest ranks of Angel here were the Archangels, and their numbers in a single division reached tens of billions. The number of divisions could not be easily counted.
Archangels, Sovereigns, Powers, Cherubims, and even the presence of a dozen Seraphims!
At the center of the Host was an Archon, the new iteration of a Celestial Destroyer. It was the same Archon who had entered the space where Rowan had battled Thenos and the World Stele because it held the Eye of Time in its grasp.
If an Archon was present, it meant that the Adjudicator was not far away.
Deep in the shattered space were the massive figures of Celestial Creators who stood behind and commanded their Hosts, and as long as they remained alive, they would maintain the life of their Hosts.
If any Angel were killed, if the power that killed them did not exceed the grasp of their Celestial Creator, their bodies would be rapidly remade, and they would return to battle. This meant that in the presence of a Celestial Creator, fighting against their Host was a lesson in futility, and only by killing them could their armies finally be destroyed, but there were few in all of Creation who could kill a Celestial Creator.
Barely glancing at the mages huddled in the corner of space, the Celestial Host pushed towards the Magus Realm.
A Celestial Creator turned toward the Mages in the distance, noticing the whiff of higher-dimensional corruption still lingering around their bodies. He frowned before a wave of light erupted from his hands and swept through the mages, gathering all these energies and bringing them toward himself.
The act had not been one of mercy, although the Magus Realm was a vassal of the Celestial Domain, their ties with the City of Light were extremely loose and were not worth mentioning in their eyes. He was just gathering details of the dangers ahead so they could be quickly dealt with.
Analyzing the trace of corruption in his hands, the Celestial Creator gazed into the Supreme World of Mages. Although it appeared the same on the surface, what he could see was drastically different.
The core of the realm had been tightly sealed away, but the battle had brought this ninth-dimensional space to the limit, and slight traces of the forces within had drifted out of the core of the realm.
The mages that remained on the surface perished quickly; their suffering was mercifully brief as they unraveled in the same way that the returning mages who had glimpsed that realm had suffered.
With his strength, the Celestial Creator could see more. He could see vast cities that had been folded into Hypercubes, collapsing inwards in direction that most higher dimensional immortals could not perceive.
He saw oceans of flames and water drained into non-Euclidean vortices, with folded space and time disappearing into higher-dimensional spaces that were hard for him to comprehend.
He nodded to his fellow Creators here with him,
“All the details are correct. Primordial Beast Bahamut is here, alongside Chaos. It should be a Throne, his only Throne.”
“Then we attack and claim this prize for Light! If we can shatter the Throne of Chaos, all Celestial Creators would earn great merit.”
“All Celestial Host, proceed forward to the core of the realm!”
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