Dimensional Descent

Chapter 769 - Why.

A pillar of golden light descended from the skies and seemed to blind the entirety of the battlefield.

Normand's roars shook the Capital, his conviction splitting the clouds in the sky apart and causing a fissure that divided the two opposing forces.

When he reappeared, it seemed as though he had been completely reformed. His body was flooded with a white gold light, making it look as though he was wearing robes. His golden hair had been completely cleansed and his emerald eyes shone like two true gems. As though his form had become ethereal, he seemed as light as a wisp of smoke and as fleeting as a fragrance in the wind.

Then, he moved.

Leonel's pupils constricted. He circulated [Golden Feather Step], causing two massive wings to appear toward his back. Their white gold appearance was no less dazzling, especially as each feather became more and more defined.

However, they had hardly formed when Normand had already appeared before him. It was as though it had only taken him a single flicker, a small twitch of the muscle, a minute intention, for him to suddenly cross a distance of hundreds of meters.

Like a streaking light, his sword struck forward, its speed so fast and its pattern so all encompassing that a singular thin blade almost formed a curtain all to its own.

Leonel frowned. '[Grand Bell Construct].'

DING! DING! DING! DING!

levels. However, before he could take advantage of the spell's construction

instant, [Grand Bell Construct]'s defensive limit was reached

Leonel accelerated backward, a single flap of his enormous semi-illusory wings

shadow, he pressed his advantage. It seemed to take not a single ounce of effort to keep up, his

his Internal Sight could see Normand's face almost as clearly

second was so fierce that it drew blood, causing crimson to drip down

Leonel's jaw set.

Anyone with even the slightest shred of sympathy wouldn't want to do such a

met today. It was a silly, meaningless nicety, especially when he knew very clearly that this was a person who wanted nothing more

such a route. Wasn't that how he had dictated his life until this point? The reason he hated killing so much was because he didn't

he on one hand believe that. Then, on the other, feel so torn in

the madden wail of a wounded beast. His shout spread throughout the Capital as he pushed himself to

it all. The blood that fell from his eyes, how his bulging thighs tore streaks of flesh away from his legs… He could even

just going all out. He was going beyond his

To kill Leonel.

seemed to silence the entire battlefield. Leonel could no longer

city. He couldn't sense the crunching ground beneath his feet or the shouts of his men. He could

flow of his blood reaching a

with such a dull pain? Why did he

an extreme height. Beneath his thinking speed, even Normand's blazing speed seemed as slow to a snail's crawl. He felt that he could accomplish