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."

read Elorin. He really did seem like a kid trying his best to please his grandparent. But, just a moment ago,

a question in context most definitely seem to be combative. Yet now, Elorin

Without Elorin's presence blocking Hutch, the aura

truth

weren't built to help the common people, we weren't built to sit here and scavenge for opportunities to deal with The

existence is

Legion. Was built

their perfect whetstone. Not a single soul seemed capable of breathing, let alone moving. It

kill. Then we sharpen our blades and do

is the fundamental law that rules us, that

"Monet!"

shaken out

"Y-yes!"

history of

we grew too dangerous and were thus abandoned and shunned. It was too difficult to control so many powerhouses at once, so the First

would have been shocked beyond belief. To think that

said

"Wrong."

Slayer Legion's history, yet, of them could come up with an answer that could satisfy the old man. In

looked toward his grandson. "What is the

seeming elegant. It was simply impossible to

When alive, our wool keeps the people warm. On our death beds, our blood quenches the people's thirst.

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. The simple sentences tugged at their heartstrings, forcing their blood to rage like flooding