Dimensional Descent

Uld’Lo was shaken by the sudden death. The fact that Leonel was taunting him the entire time only made it worse. When had the Void Race ever been humiliated like this?

“Angry?” Leonel chuckled. “Well, it’s probably a bit too late, but you could at least try to send a real Calvary this time. Though I can’t help but wonder why your Void Race is so arrogant.”

Leonel waved a hand, and one of their scythes shot up to him in the sky. It was only now that Uld’Lo realized that Leonel had been high above them the entire time. Except he had scanned that area several times and couldn’t even find a lick of him.

“Such shoddy workmanship. You guys must have pretty low standing in the Void Race to be wielding this kind of trash.”

Leonel flicked at the scythe several times and it suddenly shattered into exactly 18 pieces. The shocking part was that if a Crafting expert had been here, they would have realized that Leonel had perfectly targeted the fault-lines of the treasure every single time.

Leonel shook his head. “Arrogant, indeed.”

Uld’Lo’s gaze turned malevolent. Even if their standing in the Void Race was low, it wasn’t Leonel’s place to comment on such a thing. However, when he saw what happened to the scythe, his heart shook.

He had heard faintly that Leonel was the best Crafter of his generation, but he never took it seriously. That title was something earned with Demi-Gods being the strongest participants, not to mention the fact that only a few Demi-God geniuses participated to begin with.

But seeing this now, he suddenly felt that those rumors weren’t exaggerated enough. Especially when Leonel’s arm suddenly rippled as a Metal Spirit appeared, exuding an air of majesty that seemed capable of swallowing the world.

Little Tolly had broken into the Seventh Dimension years ago and hadn’t been able to enter the Eighth since. However, its foundation was unshakeably sturdy.

The moment it took action, the pieces of the scythe seemed to almost instantly become resplendent arrows.

Exactly eighteen of them.

No more.

No less.

Leonel drew an arc through the skies with two fingers, and a bow appeared in its path. He plucked one of the hovering arrows out of the air and knocked it.

The entire battlefield froze.

‘Domain!’

Uld’Lo’s lips couldn’t move, but his thoughts were so loud that Leonel could easily pick them up.

Aside from being slightly interesting that the God Realms seemed to have a name for his level of Weapon Force Mastery…

He didn’t care.

When he drew his bow, it wasn’t just “like” time had slowed, it truly had.

Who had the right to dodge the arrow of a Bow Ancestor?

SHUUUU!

PENG!

Uld’Lo’s head exploded. His body tilted back and he collapsed.

Leonel casually plucked another arrow out of the air, nocked it, and released.

It looked as though the entire battlefield had fallen in place just waiting for him to act, like they were still targets on a range to be shot at for Leonel’s leisure.

PENG! PENG! PENG!

A clear, resonating hum echoed every time.

One arrow. One death.

Beneath his mighty rain, the Void Race youths didn’t even have the right to heal themselves. They never got the chance to do so.

Leonel had been standing high up in the skies and now showing himself because he had been double checking something.

As arrogant as he seemed, he didn’t dare to underestimate a God Race. He knew that if he was going to take these steps; he had to be perfect and meticulous about how he went about things.

There was no room for error because it wouldn’t just decide what happened in the present, but also what the reactions might be in the future and how well or poorly he would be able to react to such events.

But after several seconds, he realized one thing…

The Void Race was simply far too arrogant.

It seemed that they believed that sending just one Shan’Rae was enough to change everything.

At the same time, the Owlans and Fallen God Beasts were far too conservative. They probably feared retaliation and didn’t want to take things too far.

In the ideal future for the Owlans and Fallen God Beasts, the Void Race would accept that they were too troublesome to deal with and eventually just let them do as they pleased.

After all, wasn’t it just another few weaklings? Even if they became Gods, they wouldn’t be able to change much.

Leonel wouldn’t say that their thoughts were exactly wrong. The Void race had many things to deal with in the God Realms and sending this amount of troops was probably at least 50% of their limit. If they sent much more than double this, it would begin to impact their more important efforts in the God Realm.

Leonel’s main problem with the Owlans and Fallen God Beasts was that they weren’t taking nearly enough advantage of this.

When you spotted your enemy’s weakness, you had to ruthlessly dig out their hearts and take a bite.

If you weren’t willing to do that, to take risks, then you would never gain anything.

As for Leonel…

He never feared taking a bite out of anyone’s heart.

He nocked a final arrow, and the wind whistled and howled, not because of the arrow being loosed, but because of its presence alone. Leonel hadn’t even released the bowstring yet.

There weren’t anymore Void Race members remaining, and no one had any idea what Leonel was doing.

Until he released the final arrow and it shattered the head of the large white tiger.

With a wave of his hand, the corpse soared up and Leonel held it by the scruff of its neck as though it were a kitten instead of a mountain of fur the size of a large hill.

“Let’s go, wife! Battle is calling! I haven’t had my fill of killing Gods yet!”