Dimensional Descent

Leonel watched as the corpses fell before him. The screams of the attendees and the subsequent commotion of the manor all shook the city, yet he didn’t seem to be able to hear anything.

He stared at Lord Helyes’ body as it slowly bled out before him. Even now, the man struggled to gasp and gurgle, his gradually dimming eyes still filled with shock.

Even as he died, he couldn’t fathom the idea of someone killing him, he couldn’t wrap his head around how someone beneath him, someone he had appointed, no less, could possibly treat him in this way.

When Helyes took his last, struggling breath, Leonel turned and walked out of the dining room, his gaze still suffused with coldness.

Walking down the hallways, there were some guards who simply charged by him despite the fact he still wielded a bloody spear. Maybe in their minds, they still couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea of someone attacking their Lord either. So, when they heard such commotion and alarm, their first reaction was to understand the situation before taking action.

As for the few guards with sense enough to realize that these matters were definitely related to Leonel, they received a whipping spear to the side of their heads, causing their brains to rattle within their skulls.

The commotion of the city continued to grow. However, it soon became obvious to Leonel that not all of it was caused by himself. There was most definitely something else going on. But, even Leonel was shocked when he stepped out of the manor doors to find the source.

At that moment, Leonel stood at the top of the manor’s marbled steps, his position unwittingly being right above the cracks his own feet had caused earlier.

Down below, there was an accumulating surge.

One would have thought that this was the result the movements of the Majesty Helyes mentioned before his death. But, Leonel knew that such a thing was far too quick. He had no idea who this Majesty was, but what he did know was that they couldn’t possibly be so close by and things couldn’t possibly be so coincidental.

When the surge got closer, though, even Leonel couldn’t help but be stunned.

He was correct. It really wasn’t this so-called Majesty. But the source was potentially even more shocking.

A hodgepodge of men and women, even some Leonel would deem as children, all pushed through and into the noble district. Without a care for the risk to their lives, they clashed against the patrolling guards, their rage palpable.

Compared to the shimmering armor of the guards they faced, their equipment was shabby.

Many of them ran along with their bare feet, unable to afford shoes. Most wore rags that could barely cover their bodies. Some gripped makeshift weapons or kitchen knives so awkwardly that it became clear they had never done such a thing in their lives before.

At the helm of this army was a young man Leonel recognized all too well. Even from so far away, Leonel could see the fury and determination that lit his eyes. But, what was maybe even more heart stopping was the fact his petite little wife followed right by his side.

She too wielded nothing but a kitchen knife probably due to the fact any other weapon would have been too heavy for her. Her face was the picture of nervousness crossed with resolve, but the tears that simultaneously fell from her cheeks made Leonel’s coldness dissipate somewhat, an involuntary chuckle escaping his lips.

This wasn’t because he was laughing at Elise’s weakness. Rather, he felt as though he was watching his little sister try her best to open a jar with her tiny hands. She squeezed and grunted, putting in all the effort her small body allowed. However, it only resulted in sniveling tears that made one want to protect her with all their heart.

The resolve for such a woman to enter a battlefield like this one was beyond Leonel’s range of understanding. He didn’t even know if he himself had such resolve.

But… What he knew for certain was that if he was Rollan, he most definitely wouldn’t have the resolve that would be needed to march into enemy territory with his wife by his side like this, knowing that he couldn’t possibly guarantee his ability to protect her.

Was Rollan wrong for doing this?

Leonel felt that the answer was too complicated. He had no idea.

On the one hand, one had a duty as a husband. To protect one’s wife, one’s children, one’s family… In a lot of ways, keeping them out of danger in the first place was part of this responsibility.

But on another, Rollan had a duty to himself, to continue to be that man his wife fell in love with, that man of pride and honor, of sacrifice and valiance. If he hid his family away and ignored all of this, could he had continued to do that?

And then there was a third perspective. Didn’t one also have the duty to bring about the best life one could for one’s family?

If the world you experienced everyday could be considered to be nothing but a living hell, a place where endless suffering was abound and every minute your family spent within it was more heartache than anything else… What would you do?

Would you still have to protect the status quo? Would you still be doing your duty as a husband, a father, if you allowed your family to continue to exist in such a world?

Where was the line? Which duty should you be most loyal to? Was safety the most important? Were your ideals the most important? Or was happiness the most important?

As Rollan continued to lead the charge, his every step was like a hammer on Leonel’s heart. When the flood of makeshift warriors finally made it to the manor, they all looked up toward Leonel who hadn’t moved an inch and Leonel looked back toward them.

A silence hung over them all. Even though the city still seemed to be alight with blaring alarms and screaming nobles, it still seemed quiet to them, for some reason.