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."

difficult to read Elorin. He really did seem like a kid trying his best to please his grandparent. But, just a moment ago, he was questioning his grandfather about the death of

a question in context most definitely seem to

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

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

built to be rebels, we weren't built to help the common people, we

of our existence is

Legion. Was built to

air, sharpening beneath Hutch's aura as though it was their perfect whetstone. Not a single soul seemed

we sharpen our

the fundamental law that

"Monet!"

shaken out of

"Y-yes!"

history of

of The Empire. However, we grew too dangerous and were thus abandoned and

been shocked beyond belief. To think that this was the true origin of the Slayer

words Hutch said next were even

"Wrong."

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

taught?" Hutch looked toward his grandson. "What is the

simple action somehow seeming elegant. It was simply impossible to believe that a single man could have such a level

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

those of the Slayer Legion to their souls. It was no longer about the voice that spoke them but entirely about the words themselves. It felt as though they had suddenly pulled their heads out from a vat of water, gasping for breath and finally seeing the world for what it truly was.