Dimensional Descent

Leonel didn’t seem surprised by the change. This couldn’t be called a betrayal, Maxx hadn’t been lying when he said that he had done his best.

If Leonel was escorted to this Overlord Poppy, as Maxx called her, then taking the World Spirit of the Spirituals would be as easy as just thinking it. By then, it would be clear that the Suiard Overlord hadn’t betrayed the Spirituals and simply had his hands tied.this content of novelfullbook.com, if you reading this content please go to website novelfullbook.com to continue reading, fastest update hourly

But because Tracilia was so cautious, things had turned out this way instead. The best way to solidify this current rocky relationship was to use Leonel as a sacrificial lamb. Of course, this didn’t mean that the Suiard Overlord wanted to kill Leonel, he didn’t have such intentions. Rather, knocking Leonel out would make corralling the Morales army easier, than the rest could be dealt with in the future.

Unfortunately, Leonel wasn’t as naive of the world as he had once been, and he had never been foolish enough to fall for such a bait and switch. He had already deduced that this would be the most likely result if Maxx failed to convince Tracilia and he was prepared for it.

The worst kind of scheme to deal with was one you knew was there, and yet had to fall into anyway. It seemed that the schemes of this hidden expert hadn’t concluded just yet.

Maxx knew that all of this was only happening because of the machinations of someone else, and yet he had to act in this way regardless. The Spirituals Religion and the Spirituals had already made their choice years ago, they had already planned to exclude the Morales.

And now, this was just the next logical step.

Looking into Leonel’s indifferent eyes toward his change of address from “brat” to “Patriarch,” Maxx almost felt like sighing. He felt as though he was looking into his own grandson’s eyes. Even when he did the most ridiculous of things, this was precisely how Amery reacted as well.

Overlord Tracilia was confused about the situation once again, she almost made the false assumption that this was all an act. After all, how could the likes of Leonel dodge an Overlord’s strike without the support of the formation? But all of those thoughts were thrown to the back of her mind when Maxx took a step forward.

The vast depth of space beneath his feet rippled outward like a pond. The chimes of swords echoed and an overwhelming pressure descended. Following that, there came a piercing sense that almost made Tracilia’s heart stop beating entirely.

Killing intent.

“I’m not sure I can deal with all your tricks and schemes if I battle you with the intent to capture you, so I will act to kill. This is the last chance I’m giving you to stand down,” Maxx spoke lightly.

Leonel wasn’t even looking at him. His gaze went above, and then it moved below. This was the problem with battles in the depth of space. On flat land, the worst you could face was a pincer from four sides, and most often pincers would come in pairs. However, in this vast endlessness, where up and down were just figments of one’s imagination and far more cultural than they were tangible, the number of directions you could attack from was infinite.

Above him. Below him. To his back. To his front. Upward and an angle. Downward at an angle.

There were Half Spirituals everywhere. The only saving grace was that their formations were just as much of a jumbled mess as his own had become.

“I’ll give you one final chance, too,” Leonel replied, still scanning the battlefield. “For every Morales that dies here, I will kill two Suiards. Is that the choice you want to make?”

Leonel finally looked up and met Maxx’s gaze.

The Suiard Overlord finally seemed to see it. That endless, unfathomable depth.

The corner of Leonel’s eyes and his feet began to smolder. The ripples formed beneath Maxx’s feet came to a dead stop over a hundred meters from him, then they began to collapse on their own.

“Attack!” Tracilia suddenly roared.

The reaction was instantaneous. The powder keg of emotions the Half Spirituals had been bottling up exploded forth. Beautiful men and women painted the skies like the descent of angels, a rainbow-like assortment of elemental energies rushing forward without restraint.

The confusion within the Morales was high. The different changes to their mental states, followed by sudden combat in a situation they had just believed to be on top of, was devastating.

However, before the first wave of assaults could land, a calming voice had already entered their minds.

“Stand tall.”

It was just two words, and yet their spines shivered and the tips of their blades trembled.

Roars escaped their lips one after another, and their Force echoed across the planes.

“Don’t be distracted.”

The whisper of a sword blade passed by Leonel’s ear. He felt as though he had been cut in two, the sensory perception coming even before the actual blade, like his mind and his body were being attacked at the same time.

He could understand the kind of despair a person would feel facing such an attack. What was the point in dodging if you have already been bisected? But he shattered the mental assault as though it was as fragile as stale bread.

His squadron was too far away from him for him to rely on their strength, but he didn’t even bother to call them back. Their task was different. As for his task?

It was to crush every Ancestor that dared to stand before him.

Leonel’s aura flared.

“[Arise].”

One after another, the corpses of the Ancestors he had killed in the last several weeks appeared and then began to crumble as though all the strength of their bodies were being devoured into the rise of their souls.

In an instant, Leonel was covered by five Ancestors, each one emitting a sharp light as they raised their bows.

These were none other than the Ancestors of the Constellation Bow Alliance.