This was a feeling that Rowan never wanted to experience again.
Thirty million years was taken from him and yet this ability…it did not stop collecting more.
If he was a god or an Archmage, this number of lifespan would have been more than enough, perhaps sufficient to resurrect a thousand gods from the cold hands of death, but Rowan was not a god.
A hundred million years of life was taken, and the end of nowhere was in sight. There was an unfathomable beast inside of him and its appetite was both cruel and unquenchable, and he wondered when would it ever be enough even as he lost five hundred million years of lifespan.
It should be noted that nothing about Rowan was normal, even his lifespan was fueled by his near-infinite vitality making every single second of it countless times more precious than what it normally would be.