The Primordial Record

583 The Slave Who Became A God

"Do not make bargains with Demons and Devils, they can not be reasoned with. Their hunger is absolute."

Tenma remembered these words from his weapon Pride when he first traded for the Scripts to summon Demons and not just any Demon, a Demon Prince, one of the most powerful creatures in all the many universes.

At first, the prospect of being able to summon such an existence was tantalizing, the power he could control, even if it was only for a short while, showed Tenma a glimpse of an authority that even the gods lusted for.

Something eternal, even if it was incredibly wicked and depraved.

He had held onto this summoning for a long time, with the firm knowledge in mind that he would never be using it unless he was at the end of the ropes or the project he was pushing for using both weapons of Sin, then he might need this power.

There were too many mysteries about Demons and he was not arrogant enough to believe he could control such creatures of chaos and disorder made flesh, and it would only be as a last resort after he had exhausted all the other million options he had.

The appearance of Rowan and the power he displayed pushed Tenma to use a power that he barely understood, and he was paying for that mistake, he had looked through his entire ability and he could find none that could challenge a creature who was capable of totally killing a god.

He was losing everything he had suffered and toiled for after millions of years of growth and at the edge of his despair, his rage awakened and it burned brighter than it ever did before, how much of this would he have to endure?

The injustice of this last series of events made this proud god to be filled with a burning desire to visit ultimate despair to his enemies.

His world, his fellow gods, his… son, all taken, and now brought before the edge of ruin, the last string holding Tenma's sanity snapped.

This Demon claimed there was a link between both of them, if that was the case, then that link goes both ways, which meant that if he could consume him, then he could do the same in return.

He did not bother thinking about the possibilities of that thought, every god was a miracle, and they could only reach such great heights because they all performed the impossible.

Tenma seized the link that bound both of them together and felt the flow of his Essence pouring into the body of the grinning Demon, he no longer fought the pull, but instead pushed everything of himself into it.

His Spirit… his will… his powers… his Intent… his Domain… his emotions… he gave all without holding anything back.

Twnma grinned as his body began to collapse to dust, and that led to a flood of memories that he thought he had forgotten.

38,000,000 years ago, Tenma was a lowly slave whose destiny was to live within the vast fields of his master and toil for every day of his life until his back broke under the strain… Literally, the final act he was supposed to have in this life would be to leave his seed behind in one of the willing slave women who were always willing to have the offspring of the strong.

Tenma had distinguished himself even during those moments, he was special, his eyes were bright and his mind unbroken, he had overthrown his master when he was seventy years old and already an old man, for he had toiled for decades, making himself invaluable to his masters while secretly gathering the loyalty of the slaves who outnumbered their masters a thousand to one.

What they needed was a voice and Tenma gave them that voice, he broke the shackles over their lives and made their collective fate his own.

He did not stop there, from those vast fields he gathered an army of ten thousand slaves and began his rampage over the entire county, and after he won, he went to the towns, and finally, the country and the entire continent fell to him.

Tenma was a hundred and fifteen years old when he reached the heights of the world, and after forty-five years of endless battle, he finally stood before the throne of the emperor and he took his head and those of his entire family.

On that day, Tenma had been soaked in blood as he personally beheaded the 7,560 Royal bloodline, down to the bawling infants.

The worship and adulations of countless billions of grateful lives fanned the desire to conquer in his heart, and although he had reached the limits of mortal life, he did not despair, and the worship from his people was the first step of power that Tenma climbed towards his Throne of Dominion.

From that moment he began his inexorably rise to the top, he faced countless hardships, and he slowly over the centuries and then millennia climbed the path to ultimate power. There were times during his life he found that his tens of thousands of years of effort were a mistake, and then he would destroy his foundations without any hesitation and he would restart again.

The lives he had led… the wars he had fought… the many moments he had loved, it was enough to fill the minds of a billion storytellers, but they would not be able to encapsulate the entirety of his life or the fierceness of Tenma's Spirit.

The millions of years of invincibility of becoming a god had dulled a bit of his fire.

That powerful figure who took himself from nothing to the heights of the universe had been lost over the many millennia of power, but his rage and pain brought back the terrifying slave who brought an Empire to its knees to the surface.

Tenma would never back down from those who sought to oppress him, he had fought for too long and he was no longer backing away, he had given up too much of himself already.

Kohron the Prince of Strife, gasped when he felt the god no longer fighting his pull but was in fact giving him his Essence, and the Demon laughed,

"Yes, there is a sweet release in giving up when you know there is nothing you can do, accept the inevitable and stay with me, and I will show you the…. I will show you the truth. Wait, what are you doing?!"