Dimensional Descent

Leonel grit his teeth, his jaw clenching with such force that it might have been heard if it wasn't for the heavy rain falling from the skies.

Up above, a vortex of black clouds rumbled and sparked with lightning, becoming louder and more dangerous with every passing moment as though a tornado trying to touch down to the earth.

The moment Leonel heard Alexandre's words, a rage began to pump through his veins.

In the past, he hadn't cared about kneeling very much. It wasn't a devaluing of himself, but rather that he had never assigned the action as something that would grant or snatch such a thing as value from a person.

Having grown up in a world that was more monarchy than democracy, something like paying respects to the Emperor was a part of everyday life. It had never been a struggle to keep or hold onto a meaningless pride, especially when everyone around you had been indoctrinated in the very same way.

It wasn't until Leonel met King Arthur that he suddenly gained a revulsion toward kneeling. But, even then, it wasn't because of the action itself, but rather because he felt as though it was being used as a power play to elevate another at his expense.

Back then, King Arthur was meant to tell him to rise, yet purposely chose not to as a method of applying more pressure on Leonel. What he didn't know was that even someone like Leonel had their own breaking point, especially when they put as much emphasis on Respect as Leonel did.

Since that day, Leonel never casually kneeled. But at this moment, with his face being grinded into the ground, with the fury of his army billowing around him, he hated it even more.

Veins popped across his body. Even though his skin couldn't seem to sustain his Bronze Runes anymore, his eyes still pulsed with a strong red. But, at that moment, for whatever reason, the usual violet hue that curbed the murderous violence of the crimson was nowhere to be seen.

he managed to rise high enough to make eye contact

BANG!

If it wasn't for the fact

give you as many chances as you

"GENERAL!"

from charging through. However, it became very clear, very

through the barrier, his

instantly what happened, but a flash of madness took over his eyes as he continued to charge forward, his

of blood rained down on Leonel, causing

droplets of crimson sounded far heavier than the falling rain. As though an anvil hidden within a mountain of

again. Clearly, Alexandre was giving him another chance to stand,

fury pulsing through his veins hadn't lessened, and yet he felt as though he should push it aside, that he should lay down his pride for the sake of a greater

of these people here, was it worth less than his pride or the

the truth was that the answer to that question didn't matter to him. The reality was that it was all too much. He wasn't willing to bear the burden of so many deaths, to have the lost lives of his men weigh on him for

did he slave over every meticulous detail of their battles in the last two years? Why was it that he felt the need to be present at every battlefield? Why was it that he insisted

feel that weight, that heaviness… The things he asked for himself, he couldn't ask from others. He wanted to protect, he

along the ground, his strength causing it to

his fists, he pushed himself up to