Dimensional Descent

Leonel left Amery’s side with a bright smile on his face. Looking down at his hand, he could still feel some of the dissatisfaction of his Weapon Forces, but he didn’t feel any regret at all…

That was because he knew that he had taken the right path.

Although many might argue, Leonel knew that Amery’s path was technically superior. If one was going after the strongest Weapon Force possible, mixing it with other things, using it to control other things, or generally pushing it out of its comfort zone, wasn’t the right way.

Like with all things, if you tried to choose all paths, you might as well not choose one at all. This was why for much of his life, the greatest challenge of Leonel’s life was the fact he had too much talent. It was hard for him to focus on one thing at a time and it put him in a difficult position.

However, this time, he was certain it was the right path. He had spent over a century on this… how could he be wrong?

He needed his Weapon Forces to become the binding agent that held him together. This was the path they had to take.

When the results became clear in the future, everyone would know that he had made the right choice as well.

In truth, even Nilrem was hesitant about it all. That was why he had asked Leonel if he was sure because he entered his long-term seclusion. However, in the end, Nilrem had chosen to trust Leonel’s judgment.

‘Not only will I be right, but if the Idol Battlefield dares to try and reject me because of this, I’ll have to flip the world of Weapon Forces on its head.’

A grin spread across Leonel’s face, a sinister light in his eyes.

His future plans surrounded the Idol Battlefield. He wouldn’t accept anything less than the best. Not only that, but he would bring a horde of the best with him.

He would take the spear.

Amery would take the sword.

Aina would take the ax.

Arnold would take the palm.

Drake would form a new legacy.

It could be said that they had a chance to monopolize almost half of the Idol Battlefield.

Now, the question was… between Hutch and Emna… who would take the saber?

The saber was a catch-all term for blades. The machete and Emna’s blades both fell into this category.

‘There’s also Noah as well, I guess… he’s the truest saber master of the three, but he is wholly inferior to Emna and Hutch nonetheless…’

Leonel was also not mentioning Joel, who had now become a glaive master. But unfortunately, Joel’s talent was lacking in this aspect as well. He wasn’t sure if he could raise those that lacked the prerequisite skill up high enough for them to achieve such things.

‘Hm, I almost forgot, Kira is also a saber wielder… a dual saber wielder. So is Elthor… Seems there’ll be quite a bit of competition.’

Leonel chuckled to himself, but he also knew that Kira’s focus had stopped being the saber long ago.

With a step, Leonel appeared in Elthor’s territory.

The Oryx was in a deep sleep, trying to regain some energy.

He weakly opened his eyes to find Leonel sitting by his bedside.

“Oh, Leo…” Elthor tried to sit up, but Leonel pressed him down, pouring the other segments of his lost soul into his body.

Elthor suddenly felt a great deal of energy pump through him and his eyes couldn’t help but widen. At first, he thought it was another temporary measure that Leonel was taking, but to his shock… he could subconsciously feel that there was much more to this.

“Leo, you…”

Leonel sighed and informed Elthor about the problem.

The Oryx prince slowly let things settle in. It wasn’t nice to hear that Leonel had chosen his others over the life and death of his own people, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t understand it.

Leonel also had no reason to come clean with him either, but he had this time.

Leonel stood, patting his shoulder.

“Take your time to get healed up. Very soon, we’ll have a lot of battles to fight.”

Elthor’s eyes flickered. He could feel that Leonel had changed.

In the past, Leonel might have asked him if he was still willing to fight for him. After his father’s death, he probably wouldn’t have told him that he had done such a thing to him and his family at all. But now, this current Leonel seemed to be a perfect fusion of the two…

Soft-hearted enough to tell him… hard-hearted enough to not give him a choice anyway.

Elthor couldn’t help but laugh as Leonel walked away. This Leonel was certainly less likable… but… this Leonel was also one that would be highly unlikely to lose.

Elthor had never wanted to be a King even though his father had pushed him to do so again and again. There was only one thing he wanted to be, one thing he would always want to be.

A General.

He wanted to stand on a battlefield with a saber twice the size of his body in hand. He wanted to unleash his bestial instincts and roar to the skies as the blood of his enemies bathed him from head to toe…

And the only way he was going to get such an opportunity was if he was under a King that was equally as bloodthirsty.

The first Leonel he met was too soft-hearted.

The second Leonel he met was too thirsty for the blood that should rightfully be his. Rather than sending him out for battle, Leonel would be more likely to bathe himself in the blood that Elthor himself wanted.

But this Leonel…

Elthor slowly pushed himself up from his bed, a wild grin spreading across his face as his body began to increase in size. White fur sprang all across him, his horns becoming sharper and more prominent.

… This was the Leonel that would give him what he wanted.