Damian gazed up at the Hallowed Voice floating between the Citadel and the crimson-gold eye that had broken the sky, and his mind moved through possibilities.
The Primordial Tongue continued to be supreme in all scenarios. He could use it on himself and others, endlessly, without limitation beyond the understanding he carried and the Mana he could cycle. If need be, he could utilize Persevere and Exelissomai even on the Hallowed Voice, pushing the old man's existence toward heights his already terrifying cultivation might not have reached on its own. And right now, standing in the crater the Eye's first attack had driven him into, he could feel the letters carved on his heart burning with the familiar heat that told him they were ready to be spoken.
"Exelissomai."
HUUM!
