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!

before he could take

Construct]'s defensive limit was reached and a rain of piercing swords surged toward Leonel's

backward, a single flap of his enormous semi-illusory

It seemed to take not a single ounce of effort to

his Internal Sight could see Normand's

to a man on the brink of madness. The second was so fierce that it drew blood, causing crimson to drip down his chin and be whipped away by

Leonel's jaw set.

of his being did not want to kill this man. Anyone with even the slightest shred of sympathy wouldn't want to do

man he had only just met

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

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

roared, his call feeling like the madden wail of a wounded beast. His shout spread throughout the Capital as he

fell from his eyes, how his bulging thighs tore streaks of flesh away from his legs… He could even sense his heart pumping

wasn't just going all out. He was going beyond his means

To kill Leonel.

entire battlefield.

feet or the shouts of his men. He could

the flow of his

with such a dull pain? Why

even Normand's blazing speed seemed as slow to a snail's crawl. He felt that he