"I will be holding them back for twelve moments. In that time, you should have concluded your operations here, if not, then your Fate is left to you."
In his heart, Rowan chuckled with anger. At this point, there were three Primordials who had openly made claims to his body, Primordial Memory, Soul, and now Demon. He was sure that the rest also had great interest in his powers,
'But I am not dead yet, and when all this is over, we will know who is standing above it all.'
A hundred years was nothing, a blink of an eye. If Primordial Demon was sincere, the least amount of time he should have given Rowan, a seventh-dimensional immortal, should have been at least a billion years. Even adding his talents to the equation, a million years should have been the right amount of time.
However, Rowan knew that Primordial Demon did not play fair, and expecting anything less from the great demon was foolish.
