Dimensional Descent

Chapter 753 - Three Months

Feeling their gazes was more than just that. It wasn't like what one would experience standing before a crowd and being expected to give a well thought out speech.

No… It was far heavier than that. As though the burden of their hopes and dreams had suddenly been settled onto his shoulders, as though he was their light bearer, as though he was their only hope.

It was a different kind of weight, one that would definitely crush the heart and soul of any man unworthy of it all.

Rollan stood down below, holding onto the small, trembling hand of his wife. His blue eyes seemed to pierce through the space between them, landing on Leonel with a burning light, an endless fervor.

He looked from Leonel's face to the bloodied, four meter long spear in his hand. The crimson liquid dripped slowly from its tip, rebounding off of the marbled steps.

The sound, slow and rhythmic, beat along with their hearts.

"This is your choice?" Leonel asked.

In return, silence was all he received.

"Alright, then."

The crowd of commoners erupted, their roars and cheers surging through the small town like a torrential wave. For the first time, the nobles began to feel some fear of their own, none of them daring to so much as peek out from their windows.

**

in size and stature, a man with a greying beard sat upon a throne, listening

prime man. It instead gave him an air of wisdom and confidence, even

confirmed. According to reports, he lost his life at the hands of his General. Since then, the town has been gathered beneath the rulership of the General and

the border as they're meant to, they've turned their weapons toward the Capital and have been steadily eating away at our Territory. At this point, seven town and two cities

of a change in expression. However, the court ministers around him already began to bluster in rage before he, himself, got the

BANG!

expensive wood railing. However, considering his stature and power, Leonel wouldn't conclude that he was useless in combat

noble blood is on his hands!

him? Hm? Let him see what

fury over. His title was Mikael the Sturdy, not

he looked over and so who

to say, Normand the Cuckold. How about you come over here and do it

his chair, his feet laying up on a similar wooden railing to the one Mikael slammed. The only difference was that the two were on completely opposite sides

be considered to be at the peak of perfection. He was truly

had been, Normand didn't react in nearly as enraged a fashion. In fact, he laughed as though the insult wasn't

shook their heads, some ignored the

proved

Majesty at the behest of his favorite son. What can I say? I simply did my duty. It's very amusing,

of those 'nobles' you're crying and moping about right now were here, would you even let them lick the dirt off the sole of your boots? Do you even really