Dimensional Descent

Elysium hacked up a mouthful of blood. He reached up, trying to grab Leonel’s spear, his bloodied fingers grasping at the air, only to fail in the end. He must have been seeing double and triple, the feeling in his chest spreading out uncontrollably until he couldn’t tell the origin of the pain at all.

Leonel’s wrist flickered, and the man was sent flying.

The Pluto.

They were the Race that had ruled over Existence for as long as anyone could remember. Their bodies weren’t as peculiar as the Void Race, nor was their intelligence as prolific as the Sylvans, nor did they have the origins of the God Beasts of Creation like the Minerva.

But they stood at that peak for countless years nonetheless.

In a way, maybe it should have been flattering that they were all here. But Leonel found it amusing instead.

Why were all of these people here in the first place? Why did they all collectively decide that the smartest thing to do when the world was on the line was to target the one Race they had supposedly never respected in the first place?

There was only one reason. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say just one person was responsible.

But to Leonel…

The outcome didn’t matter.

BOOM! BOOM!

Leonel almost couldn’t react to the hand. It appeared before anything else—a claw that looked as though it descended from the might of a dragon, a steely blue that looked almost human if not for the curved blade of silver at the end of every finger.

The shuddering might carried within it reminded one of rushing waters and collapsing mountains.

Leonel grinned.

He retracted his spear, his free hand forming a claw that rushed forward. Veins popped across his forearm, the skies changing color beneath his own might as well.

Natural Force Arts bloomed like sparks dancing off a flint, miniature shooting stars and celestial maps wrapping around Leonel’s body as the world fell into the tune of his attack.

BOOM!

Two claws met in the air, one substantially larger than the other.

Sparks flew, this time not carrying the impetus of life but instead a deep-seated will for destruction.

CRUNCH.

Leonel squeezed down, and the powerful hand of the Pluto snapped, his fingers breaking in awkward directions.

”Don’t run now.”

This time, Leonel’s voice sounded like it came from its own abyssal hell.

Despite the smile on his face, there was a deep impatience that stirred in his chest every time one of these new enemies appeared.

Did they really think that… the Human Race was here for them to knead as they pleased?

In this case, this Pluto was almost certainly enraged. Leonel could read his soul like an open book.

A dead child.

In fact, Leonel knew exactly which child: Ger’Ain.

But did he think that this would make a difference?

”There is only going to be one Race under the Northern Star after today,” Leonel said coldly. His claw strengthened, and he ripped the arm forward.

An enormous Pluto man with wisps of grey falling down the length of his chin appeared.

As’Nox.

A bloody grin spread across the Pluto’s face. Rather than showing fear, he raised his other claw, swiping it down toward Leonel’s head.

Leonel hardly paused, his spear flickering with life.

CHI. CHI. CHI.

His blade left crisscrossing, swirling patterns across the Pluto’s forearm. Blood refused to fall, but as though Leonel didn’t notice, he took a step forward, his blade accelerating until the crisscrossing patterns had run all the way up As’Nox’s limb.

”The Pluto… do not bleed… to the likes of you.”

”Your son sure did,” Leonel replied coldly.

PUCHI!

Leonel’s spear ran through his chest, and As’Nox froze.

”Die,” Leonel’s cool voice echoed.

BANG!

The Pluto’s heart exploded, and all at once, his arm shattered into a rain of blood.

Leonel kicked at his chest, sending the grieving father falling from the skies in a heap. However, before he fell very far, he was caught out of the air.

The Pluto that appeared seemed to have come from nowhere, and it felt like no matter where he stood, it was only natural for him to be there.

He stood far shorter than any other Pluto Leonel had ever seen, and the Void Race member that appeared not long afterward seemed to follow the same logic.

The two men were only eight feet or so tall—tall for a human, but practically miniature for their Races given their strength.

”It’s a shame. A father should really listen to his son,” Leonel said calmly, his eyes landing on the Pluto.

”… You overestimate yourself and your worth,” Xor’Thar spoke slowly.

”I don’t remember being the one to ask my mortal enemy for aid to face off against someone who’s overestimating themselves.”

”If you believe that’s what’s happening here, you not only overestimate yourself, but you’re also ignorant and not nearly as intelligent as you think.”

Leonel tilted his head and looked past the two men.

”You two are too weak. Who else did you bring?”

Xor’Thar’s gaze narrowed.

”I won’t repeat myself again,” Leonel said slowly. ”You have three seconds to get out of my sight, or I’ll mail your head to El’Rion in a black box.”

The last of Leonel’s words came out in the thunder of the Pluto’s language, but this time, it couldn’t harm his throat. Instead, it was Xor’Thar who found his ears ringing.

”One.”

Leonel moved.

This time, he didn’t bother to count. His patience had reached its limits.

They believed that his forbearance was a product of his hesitancy.

They were sorely mistaken.

Xor’Thar’s pupils constricted as he threw out a punch, pushing Ger’Ain’s father to his back.

Leonel’s spear ripped through his fist, flaying his forearm in two.

With a flicker, half of his arm was severed, and with another, the other half was spliced into ribbons.

Xor’Thar’s other arm was still in a throwing motion, and he couldn’t bring it back fast enough. He could only watch as the blade approached his neck, Leonel’s promise echoing in his ears.

”Enough.”

Leonel’s spear froze in place, a mysterious strength binding it.