Dimensional Descent

Leonel's breathing was erratic. For a long time, he felt a shortness of breath that didn't match with the abundance of air around him, nor his extraordinary physique. He could run a mile with a sub 5 minute time, yet this single exchange left him in shambles.

Of course, he knew it wasn't because he was that exhausted, but rather because of his emotional state. Even if this was a 'game', it was too real. No matter how much he willed it, the dead bodies around him weren't disappearing.

In fact, Leonel knew the blood on his hands was actually his own. He had cut his palm on the sword he picked up from the ground the wrong way. But it still made him feel dirty.

'Water…'

Leonel knew he had to pull himself together. Who knew how far away the group they split from had traveled. They had gone too far for Leonel to hear their footsteps anymore, but the screams of these Spaniards had obviously been much louder than footsteps.

Steeling himself, Leonel could only push his dark thoughts to the back of his mind. Maybe he was lucky that he was dealing with such a moral dilemma in such a situation, at least he didn't have the luxury to sit and sulk.

After making up his mind, he jogged over to the torch he had kicked away during the fight and brought it over.

Rummaging through the bodies, Leonel found three flat circular shaped containers of water. Without hesitation, he drained two completely before strapping the third to his waist.

The wound on his hand and chest were pretty bad, but none of them seemed to carry bandages with them. Luckily, what they did have were flasks of alcohol. Leonel didn't hesitate to grit his teeth and pour it over his wounds.

Afterward, he left his chest alone. But, for his hand, he snatched the leather guards the Spaniards used for himself. He also slipped on a chest plate and a helm. Of course, he chose the undamaged ones.

He took both muskets from the two Spaniards who had broken their wrists. He had no idea how to reload them. But, he did know how to aim and shoot. Safeties shouldn't have been invented in this era, he didn't think.

Either way, he would get two shots out of them before discarding them.

Finally, he took the two best quality swords with him, changing his silver rod back into a bike. Blades of this era likely lost their edge and chipped really easily. Having more than one, especially for attacking armored warriors, was definitely the smartest move.

Leonel took a seat on his silver framed bike, closing his eyes and steadying himself. Soon, the sound of rushing footsteps reached him once more. However, it seemed the reason they had taken so long to get this close was because they were lost.

After making a mental note to himself to memorize every path he crossed, Leonel's mind flashed with a plan. Not waiting another moment, he got to work. Not even a minute later, he pedaled his bike hard, reaching a dead end quickly.

At that moment, the next group of three appeared. They too had brought a torch with them, noticing the darkened tunnel.

hell is on the

'Those barbarian bastards!'

Spaniards had finally

'Over there!'

But the reason he had noticed Leonel in the dark at all was precisely because Leonel

what was happening,

floors, swallowing the line of alcohol Leonel had drawn and reaching the three Spaniards and the three corpses

time to react. A harsh explosion sounded, burying

forward to aim, his hands trembling. However, he knew he had no choice but to shoot. There was no better opportunity to test the range and accuracy of these weapons. The flames had engulfed all three of them, but it likely wouldn't kill them

sights as best he could, Leonel

he predicted. In fact, he had overcompensated for it far too much. Still, his aim was terrible. There was little

through the air. It was moving at speeds far beyond the limits of humans, but he could

when the unexpected happened. In their agitated pain, one of the Spaniards fell right

as he crumpled to the ground, Leonel bit his lips so

Leonel. You're better than this. Maybe this is why that Gene Assessment slotted you in to spend the rest of your life throwing balls. That sort of safe profession is just right for someone as pathetic

himself,

his lesson. His brain did calculations he wasn't even consciously aware

to not only account for where your target was, but also where said target would

stayed true, flying right through the eye of a second

gripped the handle of one of his swords. He pedaled down the path lit with flames, not worried

from his steed, he sped toward the final Spaniard with a speed

feeling again. He couldn't stand the disgust he

of madness, he threw his

air, spinning several times before its sharp edge entered the mouth of the screaming soldier. Like that, the hall fell into silence once more.

remembered the fact guns of this era needed to be

out in your mind, but actually seeing the results painted a picture of something other than success for

surprised him. He had subconsciously felt that he could count the number of turns his sword would take in the air and exactly where it would land before it even

this probably had to do with his years of playing quarterback, but the much larger reason was definitely as a result of his new awakened abilities. He now knew he had great talent

recalled correctly, the Mayans were well known for their throwing spears. If he could find their weaponry, it

over his apprehension and fear, he was doomed to die one day. The world outside was no longer the world he had come to know, and the Ascension Empire