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!

However, before he could

an instant, [Grand Bell Construct]'s defensive limit

accelerated backward, a single flap of his enormous semi-illusory wings taking him dozens of meters with

more than his shadow, he pressed his advantage. It seemed to take not a single ounce of

his Internal Sight could see

fierce that it drew blood, causing crimson to drip down his chin and be

Leonel's jaw set.

want to kill this man. Anyone with even the slightest shred of sympathy wouldn't want to

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

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

how could he on one hand believe that. Then, on the other, feel so

beast. His

it all. The blood that fell from his eyes, how his bulging thighs tore streaks of flesh away

out. He was going

To kill Leonel.

deep breath seemed to silence the entire battlefield. Leonel could no longer hear a

sense the crunching ground beneath his feet or the

eyes, the flow of his blood

Why did every choice he had to make come with such a dull pain? Why did he live in a world where he had to make such choices to

seemed as slow to a snail's crawl. He felt that he could accomplish days