Dimensional Descent

Chapter 770 - Eternal

Normand crashed into Leonel's body, impaling himself further. However, Leonel didn't move an inch. As though a steady mountain that had stood since an ancient era, he remained unmoving even as Normand's chin fell over his shoulder.

Normand sputtered, his mouth, already leaking with blood, suddenly beginning to flow with it. The tears that fell down his face only seemed to make the crimson stream down faster, sapping away the heaviness of his life's blood and washing it away as though it was meaningless.

A light chuckle left Normand's lips, his raised sword slowly falling to the side. He no longer had the strength to hold it up. Even now, the only reason he could continue to stand on his feet was because of Leonel's spear and shoulder.

"… How… pathetic…" He coughed violently, shards of flesh flying from his mouth and coating Leonel's back as though to mark him for a lifetime.

"… I… Normand the… Swift… Lost because… I tripped…"

He found it hysterical.

He could see through the difficulty in doing such a thing to him. The location of the change to the earth had to be precisely chosen, it had to be well hidden, and it had to be perfectly timed.

At the speed he was going at, his feet hardly touched the ground even once in tens of meters and the intervals weren't even evenly spaced. Depending on the attacks he chose, the acceleration or deceleration he could choose mid combat, any number of changes could occur.

At his speed, any one of those changes could cause deviations of several meters. Yet, Leonel still chose the precise point where his toes would strike the ground, causing the greatest amount of devastation to him.

He understood all of this well. To be a Pure Speedster, he had to have a thinking speed that could keep up with his legs. However, he still found it all to be hysterical. If he had the energy to laugh into the skies, he would do it.

Normand's mouth sputtered with another mouthful of blood, this time completely drenching Leonel's back through.

For the battle…"

his body

his spear still running through Normand's body,

He could feel the light smile on Normand's face, that satisfied upturn

of a man who had finally died on his own terms. Not in a cell surrounded

rang over

of the cheering one would expect to hear after a successfully won challenge… None of

only a brewing heaviness, an unwillingness that radiated

The Light called me Friend… The Gods tried to Strike

Eternal.

vanished as he slowly lowered Normand to the

lids of his eyes with two fingers, uncaring

sky above the castle in the distance. There, there was a

the wind, whether it was his short hair or

his head, completely straight. It seemed to connect him to the skies above… Even as his robes fluttered and his

on the world, he seemed indifferent to it all. As though a passive observer rather than the King of a Nation that had lost almost all his land, he didn't

a deity, observing the work of his creation as though it was passive,

worse than any debasing snicker, any snide remark, any cruel

to Normand's corpse. Even now, his lip was curled into that very

palm flipped over, a glistening, double bladed, silver