Dimensional Descent

Chapter 223

Leonel's mind went blank. Was he really going to die here?

He was unwilling. Even more unwilling than he felt when his bloodline shackles tried to force him to take a step back. He was continuously roaring in his heart.

However, his body was really in no state to move. No matter how unwilling he was, there was a limit to what will could accomplish.

'He's still alive?' Lamorak raised an eyebrow.

He still didn't manage to kill Leonel after going all out like this?

Just when he wanted to swing again, though, a voice suddenly called out to stop him.

"Hold on, Sir Lamorak. There's still some value in questioning this young man, don't you think?"

"Questioning him? For what, exactly?"

"Don't you think there are still some odd points about this? If he really was a spy, his actions are a bit too odd. Plus, I'm sure you know it's not possible for our Camelot to not have a single spy within it, right? With such a high value spy like this young man, why would he come here on his own instead of relying on one of those connections to establish a footing first?"

Lamorak felt that Aliard's words made sense.

Leonel was because of his weird actions. The moment they began to question him, he suddenly became defensive and even jumped back, broadening a ten meter radius

had already assumed Leonel to be a spy.

the end, his gaze turned resolute as he

Lamorak, what are you

forces one to reveal their inner thoughts. It's clear that not only is this young man hiding something, but judging by his initial reaction, he's also hiding a

isn't a person who forgives easily. Even if he doesn't retaliate, his heart

a person. It's

any of these words. Even if he wanted to, the pain

It wasn't that his body had healed, but rather that it took a lot of his mental faculties to enter

the end. Maybe death would be less painful in

that familiar unwillingness

him not liking pain. At the same time, it wasn't like Lamorak was a horrible person. He was only doing

that even with all the pain ravaging

what good was that? Fury wouldn't do him any

to

being able to were two completely different concepts. No amount of will could mend his bones and flesh. His body

any consciousness to speak of was shocking enough. Maybe if his spirit wasn't so great, his thoughts would have already

looking toward the large, complicated Dream Sculpt hanging in the air above him. It looked like a maze of golden and silver lines. If one had to explain it in just a few words, it would be like if one created a complex network of tunnels beneath a planet's surface, then took everything away but the tunnels

99% to completion, but that final percentage point felt like an insurmountable mountain to

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