About thirty percent of the Twilight Bridge had collapsed and even the Will Holders were shuddering from the effects of their techniques. The shockwaves and the blowback of energy erupting from the spot they bombarded Rowan from was so strong it was stripping away their defenses, but they did not dare let up, for Rowan was not dead.

Minerva's mind was breaking down with what she was witnessing, if not for their Wills and the blasted Aetherium energy from the Third Prince, they would not be able to scratch him, and he was still a damn mortal!

What unearthly abomination were they fighting? In her head, Minerva had begun to unearth frightening ancient tales about abominations and Eldritch beings who rove the depths of reality, whose powers were so abominable that their presence shattered everything and caused unchecked destruction, creatures that even Demon Kings feared--Old Ones, often thought of as myths than living creatures.

Many things began to make sense, she knew that the creatures she dealt with; the Third Prince and his cohorts were related to this entity, and she could not wait for it to end. Minerva wanted to retreat into the Great Abyss and slumber for the next hundred Eras until this day became nothing but a lost memory.

'Please die... I will never deal with matters of the Old Ones again. Nothing is worth it.'

The Ascension technique was at the edge of Rowan's perception, a single thought from him and he would activate it. At the mortal level, this was the only technique he could wield with a degree of safety, and it should be strong enough for him to be able to fight back, but he found himself hesitating even as his body was torn apart... something was missing.

The unrelenting waves of energy slammed into his body, and he felt his spine begin to creak under the stress as his left hand exploded into ash, giving the energy the freedom to ravage the rest of his body.

At this time he had begun to acclimate to the Wills powering the techniques and if that was the only issue he would be able to fight, but the red lightning was like an annoying and persistent blockade to his senses. He should be able to move, he already understood the energy ravaging his body, but he could not counter it when his consciousness was trapped in a mire.

Ascension was the key to freeing him. In an instant, his Stats would balloon to unreasonable heights, giving him enough of a buffer to push past this barrier.

His body was beginning to take catastrophic damage, but for some reason, he refused to unleash Ascension. The cold hands of death grew tighter around his throat and Rowan's mind went still as he chased for the reason he did not want to fight back.

Rowan trusted his instincts even when it felt as if they were bringing him to his death, there was an opportunity here that he was missing and for some reason, he felt he would regret it if he just powered through this crisis and missed the chance to learn.

He delved deeper into his consciousness, disregarding the pain and the terrifying powers ravaging him as his profound mind searched for the clue that stymied his resolve.

He disregarded the cries of adulation from his enemies as his body broke down further and when his heart began to beat faster as death drew near, he saw a hint of what he sought and he pursued it.

The answer that came to him was so simple, but because of who he was, it would have been incredibly difficult, if not impossible for him to realize it if he had not placed himself in this situation.

Fear... he needed to feel fear.

'My strength has made me weak. I am a Mortal yet I have forgotten everything a mortal is. How we rage against the endless dark. Sometimes weakness can be strength if channeled properly.'

The Third Prince had underestimated Rowan in his fury, his misplaced statement about depriving Rowan of wisdom and leaving him with just power struck a chord within him.

Just like the pitiful gods of Trion with the potential to become Outer dimensional beings but were stuck with being nothing but disposable gods due to deliberate gaps placed in their knowledge base, Rowan had also suffered the same fate.

Every knowledge he had was those he had painfully derived from observations and experimentation, and even though his talents were ridiculously high and he could make almost a hundred percent accurate inference when he solved the riddles of reality, the fact of the matter was that he was still too young.

The universe alone was vast and contained countless numbers of mysteries, and the dimensions above it would contain countless more. It was no wonder that he could be taken down with information he had no access to, anyone else would fail if they were placed in his position and had to figure out everything from nothing, but Rowan was far from normal and the reason he could make such massive leaps in power and knowledge was his outrageous temperament.

Rowan had learned many methods to tackle problems, but there was one method he had disregarded; it was the tenacity of a mortal. They performed great deeds and felt deep fear and turmoil in their hearts, but it did not stop them from pushing ahead when a challenge emerged.

There was a magic here that he had not discovered, and this opportunity came to him again as a mortal.

His mind reached the period of time he had watched mortals in millions of worlds, and he mixed it with the memory of his previous mortal body as Rowan Carter. In his previous life, he was a fighter, and he knew how hard it was to reach a point where his fist was as hard as rocks and he could run for miles, despite the pain of a broken body.

The resolve to know you were going to experience deep pain but still push past it, knowing you had a purpose and needed to get the job done.

Along the way, many others who started the journey of progress to become strong with him were left behind, they abandoned this path, for the journey of self-improvement for a mortal was difficult. Their bodies were too fragile, never made to reach for more, and yet they still fought.

To grow stronger, their bodies would have to break, they could not Will energy to life and imbue them in massive spells to shape reality, or slowly gather experience over millennia, they had to accept pain and suffering to grow, knowing that their time was short, and it was easy to give up and enjoy the few period they had on the earth.

Only a mortal would understand this struggle.

This realization hit him like a brick, he had all the tools he needed, he just needed to know he day them. 'This new energy, I can only understand it if I accept it. Allow it to break me, and rise from it. It will hurt me in a way that I don't know if I will be able to recover from, but this is my fate. I am a mortal.'

Something broke apart inside of Rowan and he allowed himself to finally stop looking at this power from a distance like a Primordial and accepted it. This was his fate.

Rowan began to scream. It was a raw and unfiltered cry of pain, as the barriers in his mind that he had painfully created over the years were placed down and he took in everything. The pain, fear, power, everything he allowed it to run unchecked inside his dimension.

Slowly breaking all he had rebuilt to pieces.

Death had never been so close, but so also was enlightenment. Rowan's screams began to transform, and he suddenly pushed himself to his feet.

"Fuck!" Minerva jumped back, nothing should survive this level of destructive powers, and this was with blasted Aetherium imbued with it, the next words from Rowan made her doubt her senses, but she did not mishear him, he was crying out for more.

"More, more, more, more Give me more! Do your best my nemesis, try all you can to turn my mortal flesh to ash."