Dimensional Descent

The drums of war echoed across the God Realm.

Four Great Families.

Imperatress Anselma walked with vigorous strides, the strips of her red gown practically hovering above the marbled ground, fusing into her red-gold hair. BANG!

Her palms slammed the wide double doors of a throne room open.

Several gazes landed on her at once, but with every step she took, her aura only seemed to grow until she eventually stood like a towering mass.

The current Head of the Brazinger family looked at her with a frown, but by the time she had placed a foot on the first staircase, he was covered in such a heavy cold sweat that he no longer dared to speak.

A memory triggered in his mind as Anselma climbed the stairs and his emotions quickly flickered from rage, to shock, then fear, then understanding.

”Scram.” Anselma said coldly.

Berat was a veteran of war. A man who had bathed both his skin and blades in blood. However, right now, he couldn’t seem to muster up the momentum he needed to do much other than move out of the way.

Anselma didn’t slow a single time as though she already expected that Berat would move for her.

Without breaking her stride, she crossed the threshold of the final step and took a scat, facing off against a sea of red eyes staring back at her. Each was colored with some shade of confusion, not understanding what was going on.

The woman in question herself trembled slightly when she sat on the throne. Memories she had long forgotten whizzed by in her mind one after another. With each new consolidated thought, her aura grew less violent and more solid.

By the end of it, she seemed to recall just who she was as well.

”Ha.” A single, hollow chuckle came from her lips.

When she had been walking here, her body had practically been controlled by a mysterious power and she could only watch as a third party as she did something she would have normally never dared to do.

But now that she understood... she felt like it was all just one big joke.

”I, the Imperatress, actually have a day where I fall so far.”

10:00 -

Losing her temper for a man, torturing mere mortals, being sent fleeing with her tail between her legs by a mere child.

She had prepared herself to recall her previous life with quite some regrets. With things like this, it was impossible to control every variable.

She had thought that she might accidentally marry a man who was beneath her status, or maybe humiliate herself in various ways. But this left a taste of disgust even in her mouth...

Not because she regretted the actions, but because she regretted the reasons for them.

If she was going to kill, maim, and humiliate, she should do it for herself.

A cold sneer spread across her beautiful features.

Aina Brazinger, was it? Did a woman who took another family’s name deserve to carry their blood?

”Who are the Brazingers?” Anselma asked, a chilly wind spreading beneath the weight and majesty of her tone.

The Brazingers, even the most skeptical ones, were compelled to answer by a mysterious power. Their mouths opened at once and the aura in the throne room solidified.

”WE BLEED.”

A simple two words. Yet, they resonated with an echo that howled across space and time.

The Imperatress had returned.

The weight of the words didn’t seem to settle in for a time. Anselma had carried the title of Imperatress for all her life, and others called her by it naturally as though it was just a fact of life.

But it wasn’t until today that the meaning was realized.

And she wasn’t the only one that revived on this day.

Dreadarch Eryvon of the Laevis supplanted the Head of the Laevis.

Thronebearer Loryth of the Crudus directly took the Head of the Crudus.

Regentrix Myxor hung the Head of the Adurna to dry, allowing her to slowly die beneath the sun and the crows.

The Imperatress. The Thronebearer. The Dreadarch. The Regentrix...

Each one had returned.

But the latter three only had one action they all took when they recovered their memories. Without fail, they all turned to the Brazinger Clan, falling to a knee.

Anselma sat on her throne in silence, her eyes closed and her breathing even. The slight movement of her chest was the only proof that she was still alive at all.

When she sensed the actions of the three, a fiendish grin spread across her face. With her eyes still closed, it looked to be particularly out of place.

”... There is only room for one lioness at the top!”

**

Leonel sat at the top of the Ascension Palace stairs. He looked down toward the sea of warriors below, some looking at him with complicated glances, some with confusion,

others with unwillingness.

”You see that?” Leonel asked his son and daughter.

Little Leo was standing on the top step Leonel sat upon, half hiding behind his father’s shoulder as though only this gave him the courage to peer over and take a look at the millions looking up at them.

Leah, though, was sitting on her father’s lap, only barely peeking out from burying her

head in his chest.

”Mhm...” Leo said, squeezing out his words.

”Most of them aren’t very happy with me. Whether it be that they’re still very loyal to my grandfather, or the fact that they think the world is ending so there’s no point in scrambling for power right now.”

Leonel’s voice wasn’t very hidden, so many froze when he spoke out such things so candidly.

”Most of them will probably never put their full effort into the coming battle, some probably have plans of defecting and end rushing off to the middle of nowhere to live out the remainder of what little time they have left. What do you think?” Leonel asked

Leo.

”Bunch of babies.” Leo muttered.

Leonel sputtered with laughter as a spark of rage lit within the army below.