Dimensional Descent

“Keep your head up. Don’t be afraid to resign if need be,” Leonel smiled and patted Eamon on the back. “As you can see, when we’re together, they don’t stand a chance against us.”

Resigning wasn’t a simple matter. After doing so, there were two options that could be taken. The first was for the Dream Pavilion Head to replace them, and the second was to give up all points entirely. There was a third option, but that had to be triggered through a series of “coincidences” and it also required some extra effort.

This third option was to replace the candidate with someone other than the Pavilion Head, but this required two things. The first was to sacrifice some of your points and the second was that the replacement had to fit the criteria of the one they were replacing.

When a Dream Pavilion Head replaced a participant, their point total would be nerfed. However, so long as the normal replacement shared the Dimension of the person in question, the only point sacrifice would be the initial loss.

As expected with the matters of the Dream Pavilion, this matter was overly verbose on purpose. It forced the participants to calculate many things and weigh the pros and cons of each action.

The short of it was that if Eamon chose to give up, they could either give up the round entirely, replace him with Leonel in exchange for a nerf on points, or replace him with another Seventh Dimensional existence in exchange for a set number of points.

Essentially, it was a round Leonel felt that he could crush the opponent in, it was better to take the nerf on points even if it was substantial.

But, if it was a close round like the first or second round, it might be better to hand over a set number of points in exchange for replacing Eamon with someone else.

The problem with this second option, though, was that Eamon would be permanently replaced for the remainder of the Challenge Sequence and wouldn’t be able to be brought back even through another replacement sequence.

So, when Leonel told Eamon to give up if he really wanted to, he was essentially only thinking of personally replacing him.

They didn’t have anyone else to swap in for Eamon or Goggles, for that matter. It was just the three of them.

Eamon grit his teeth. “I can do this.”

Leonel smiled. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. Coddling Eamon a bit during the second round was bearing fruit.

However, this would be difficult. There were no Force Arts to manipulate, it was a one on one battle between himself and Gregwyn.

If he wasn’t careful, he could very well lose his life. So, Leonel had to remind him to protect his livelihood as a first order of priority.

Soon, the two vanished.

Eamon stood on a flat mountaintop, trying to control his erratic breathing.

This arena wasn’t much different from the arena that Leonel and Patriarch Khafra had fought on, but the difference was that they weren’t on separate mountains… they were right across from one another, separated by no more than a few dozen meters as opposed to the hundred kilometers that had separated the former two.

Eamon’s heart practically wanted to beat out of his chest. He looked up to see those massive palms in the skies, decorated with veins and runes of red. They truly looked like the Hands of God.

He clenched his fists.

“I would advise you to give up. If you dare stand in my way, I will kill you for no other reason than to secure the greatest number of points.”

Gregwyn’s voice was drenched in an abyssal darkness. With everyday that passed, he seemed to only grow more and more angry. From the cheery young man he had once been, he truly seemed to want nothing more than to watch the world burn.

Leonel had taken everything from him, and he swore to one day take everything from Leonel.

A cold shiver rose up Eamon’s spine, but he gripped his fists tighter, circulating the Dream Force around him and trying to form quasi talismans as quickly as possible. The longer he managed to last, the more points they would get. He didn’t have to win, he just needed to not completely give up the win.

These sort of direct one on one battles would gave the largest potential for point disparity. If one side lost quickly, it could open up a huge gap. He had to hold on for as long as possible to make sure the gap stayed as small as possible.

Gregwyn actually laughed when he saw that Eamon dared to stay.

“Do you know why I hate Leonel Morales so much?” Gregwyn’s eyes turned red, his black hair dancing in the air as he looked right into Eamon’s eyes. “He massacred my people. Warriors, commoners… men, women… adults, children… He didn’t give a damn, he slaughtered every single last one of them.

“The man you respect so much is nothing more than a Demon incarnate in human skin. He has no bottom line, no morals, and yet you fight for him?”

Eamon’s pupils trembled. He didn’t know what Gregwyn was talking about, but he didn’t seem to be lying. Even so, at the same time, he could sense an oppressive Dream Force attacking his psyche again and again, if he was too casual, he might lose without understanding what happened.

“For the crime of following such a despicable man, you deserve no less punishment. If I let you live, won’t you help in his future sins? You deserve death.”

As Gregwyn’s words fell, his four floating hands, each four meters from palm to the tips of his middle fingers clenched at the air.

Large javelins formed as the tightened their grips, a surge of Dream Force being ripped out of Eamon’s control as Gregwyn raised his hand to the skies and then pointed down.

“Die.”

Eamon’s heart stopped beating entirely.