Rowan wondered what this said about him, that in his short life, he had heard the plea for mercy more times than he could count. Well, that was a lie, he could count every single one, but he just did not bother to do so, what would be the point?

Yet these were the lucky ones who could live long enough to withstand his might for a period of time. The rest of those he had killed were in feats of power that were so calamitous, that he wiped them out without most knowing they had died.

He did not try to justify his actions with the flimsy excuse that those he butchered didn't feel any pain so it was a bit okay. Rowan's goal was to search for the truth behind it all, even though he was aware that the true core of life lay in the Soul Origin, and he could butcher all the life inside a universe and what he would gain was simply Soul Energy, this was no longer the truth for him, because as the power of Sheol increased so also the chance that he would harvest the Soul Origin of those he killed.

If he was not killed before the end of his journey, if he found what lies behind everything in reality, then he would give judgment to himself.

In all of reality, Rowan thought there was no one who should decide his fate. Of course, this all depended on whether he was strong enough to control his fate in the end. If he fell to a stronger party, the only thing he would hate was his weakness.

It was why he was always surprised and a bit annoyed when powerful beings like this who were supposed to understand such a basic concept could still be pleading for their life when the end came for them.

He wondered if they would stop begging if they knew that once he had made up his mind, it was supremely difficult for him to change it. In a reality where power was something that was not just a concept, but could be attained by the strong, those with conviction were the ones that ruled.

Rowan had killed so many living beings, even those that were not his enemies and had no part to play in his personal war, he had robbed them of the chance to attain a purpose in life, and although he understood that their Soul Origin remained safe, he had still stolen from them, and so it was a privilege to anyone to be warned off by him.

This ancient soul had been warned and it still pursued its futile effort to consume Rowan, it was enough to make him shake his head in amusement, someone like this should know the consequences of failure. Why then did it beg for life when it refused this same gift to so many who had fallen prey to its touch before?

In a mad reality where the strong dictated the rules, the fallen should know their place. Sentimentality and pity were dead in this Era, only a fool would think differently.

"I will do anything Don't kill me Honorable One, I have waited too long for the opportunity to see the light once more, and I will do anything to survive. My home, my family, they await me, and I have promised that no matter how long it takes, I shall return to them, spare me and I shall serve you until time ceases Not for my sake, but for those waiting for me. Inside me is the knowledge of ages, I was there when the Primordial War began, I saw the Primes lay their plot, and I know where their hidden bounties are stored, do not kill me and I shall make you powerful and rich beyond measure."

Rowan was silent, he only increased the suction from the eyes of the Ouroboros Serpents until with a weird sound, the soul was harshly torn into six parts accompanied by the despairing cries of the demon,

"Spare me!! I beg of you. I made a vow to my family, to my people, that I shall never die and I shall find them, my promises are the only thing keeping them safe from the Abyss."

Rowan's deep voice resounded in the dimension,

"Your dreams hold no interest to me, demon. Die with grace."

The demon did not go quiet into the night. He raged and raged until the last of him vanished.

With a last sickening crunch, the shattered souls were sucked into the eyes of the serpents.

Rowan grimaced, this was a lesson, this was how he would die if he failed. A demon like this should be far greater than a Demon King in his prime, he must have commanded endless forces and held sway over countless dominions, but in the end, his death was almost an unknown affair.

All nobility was forgotten, at the edge of Nothingness, the true nature in the hearts of everyone would be revealed.

'At the end of my life with the blade of my enemy against my neck, would I cry? Would I beg? Would I break? Do I truly know myself until I have lost everything and know I have no more options left?'

There was a time when Rowan felt he had all these answers, but in the end, who could ever understand?

When he had a soul, he had chosen to forsake his own well-being and help those in need, and now that he had lost his soul, his only soft spot was for his children. It would seem that he had never truly changed, at the core of his being, Rowan would always sacrifice for those outside himself. He was okay with death, Rowan thought, 'I will not beg. I will smile, for my journey is at an end, and I can drop the weight of it all to the side.'

Old Man Seed had left the Frozen Waste a while ago to bring the Tenebris Armor with him after he detected that Rowan had mastered the crushing and was beginning to comprehend the mysteries of the shard, although he was surprised at how quickly the child had begun to adapt to the changes inside the armor, he labeled it to one of his unknown Prime bloodlines, comprehension on the other hand was expected to take a while.

The child was undoubtedly strong, but becoming a Prime required far more than strength.

For the last few days, he had been traveling to the furthest depths of reality. One did not forge what he was suspected to be one of the greatest individuals in all creation in a dump! In his long life, he had come across great opportunities and exotic locations that made his teeth itch, but most would be useless to him, and others would kill him, but their powers were never far from his mind.

'What can I forge using all that power?'

Old Man Seed had long realized that in the matter of Romion, he should be asking himself whether he should do it, not if he could do it. Yet the fragments of the potential he had seen inside this child had seduced him, he wanted, no he needed, to know what sort of being could be created if all those potentials came to stunning fruition.