Dimensional Descent

Hearing Hutch's words, those of the Slayer Legion were stunned. At first, they were too oppressed by Hutch's aura to say much of anything. But, in the next moment, a few shot up, livid expressions on their faces.

"You dare to rebel, Hutch?!" Catris roared, slamming his remaining hand onto the table beneath him.

Catris hadn't dared to confront Hutch before, but now he was most definitely in the right.

Wasn't the point of the Slayer Legion meant to be to fight against the oppressive rule of The Empire? The Ascension Empire hid beneath a guise of democracy, but when there would always be one, undeniable ruler, what kind of democracy was this? This world was simply a Monarchy with extra steps, there was nothing revolutionary about it.

Just how many actions had the Fawkes family unilaterally taken over the years with no one being powerful enough to stop them? This was exactly what they were trying to avoid, yet, Hutch was actually trying to make the Slayer Legion the exact thing they were fighting against?!

It was unforgivable!

"Silence."

A wave of Force surged through the room. Many felt as though their knees had gone weak, whatever thought of resisting they had had falling to negligible levels. Even now, they couldn't believe how large the difference between them and Hutch truly was.

"Brat, go sit down."

Hutch looked toward his grandson, a commanding tone booming from within his chest.

Elorin looked toward Hutch, a partially cautious and partially curious light in his eye. But, in the end, he smiled somewhat unexpectedly.

"Alright, grandpa."

trying his best to please his grandparent. But, just a moment ago, he was questioning his grandfather about

tone back then. But, asking such a question

By now, many of them had paled. Without Elorin's presence blocking Hutch, the aura they felt

all seem to have forgotten the truth of our Slayer Legion, I

common people, we weren't built to sit here and scavenge for opportunities

our existence is

The Slayer Legion. Was

bloodthirsty aura surged out from Hutch. The sound of crying blades sung through the air, sharpening beneath Hutch's aura as though it was their perfect whetstone. Not a single soul seemed capable of breathing, let alone moving. It felt as though their whole

We kill. Then we sharpen our blades and do it

fundamental law that rules

"Monet!"

Monet was shaken out of her fear-induced

"Y-yes!"

history of the

once the spear of The Empire. However, we grew too dangerous and were thus abandoned and shunned. It

this story, they would have been shocked beyond belief. To think

the words Hutch said next were even more

"Wrong."

yet, of them could come up with an answer that could satisfy the old man. In fact,

the hogwash that's been taught?" Hutch looked toward his grandson. "What is the history

was simply impossible to believe

warm. On our death beds, our blood quenches the people's thirst. After our death, our flesh keeps the

entirely about the words themselves. It felt as though they had suddenly pulled their heads out from a vat of water, gasping