Primordial Demon knew he was losing. The perfect, polished geometry of his demonic form was chipped, cracked, and his Origin Force was nearing exhaustion.
The Great Abyss was collapsing, as he had sucked out every bit of Origin Force from inside their structure just to keep himself alive. In all his Eras of life, he doubted he had seen a warrior like Rowan, who seemed to be a perfect fusion of multiple impossible concepts.
'So, this is the road beyond Origin. This is the Destiny that has been denied to us. Ah, there is still a chance for me to seize it.'
Primordial Demon recalled the entire process of their battle. Rowan was not a superior artist; he was more like a force of entropy, weathering the masterpiece of his superior martial talents into rubble.
