Dimensional Descent

Leonel coughed up another large mouthful of blood.

'Son of a bitch…'

He had gotten far too used to seeing this ceiling today. But, he hadn't expected to see it after saving a beauty. This wasn't how the script was supposed to go, who wrote this bullshit?

Unfortunately, it wasn't over. Leonel had hoped that a single strike would be enough to vent her rage, but he had hardly rebounded off of an opposing wall when he found another fist nearing his face.

Leonel reacted as quickly as he could, crossing his arms over his head. But, to his astonishment, it had been nothing more than a feint. What looked like a dainty hand, completely dwarfed by the size of Leonel's own, smashed a fist into his chest, sending Leonel into the wall again.

The pain wrecked Leonel's body, his partially healed ribs cracking cleanly once again with an audible snap. With how powerful Leonel's body was, every injury he suffered was like metal being snapped in two, even his muscles themselves were like intertwining steel cords, layered atop of one another with a strength that spoke for itself.

The second wave of pain seemed to snap Leonel awake, the helplessness in his gaze vanishing and leaving behind a hidden sharpness.

Leonel immediately entered a defensive position, tucking his elbows to the side of his body and raising his fists to opposing sides of his face. Like this, he could finally see the rampaging Aina before him. If it wasn't for the ridiculous situation he was in, he might have spared a thought for how much of a War Goddess she seemed to be right this moment.

Her tight beast skin clothing clung to her curves, her muscles pulsing with a vibrant power. She released a barrage of kicks and fists, entering a furious berserk state as though she wanted nothing more than to see Leonel beaten into minced meat.

to counter attack. Aina's assault was seamless and even though she rarely used her fists and legs like this, her battle sense didn't seem to take even the slightest

Fist Force.

attacks

backfoot like this or else all he would be was a glorified punching bag. Even his metallic

and swinging a punch out that ignored everything. He just needed to break Aina's rhythm, just enough that he could find a chance to counter. However, he had only just opened up his defenses when Aina's figure seemed to flicker, her fist connecting with his chin as though there was a

Without Dream Sense, he couldn't shake his mind awake fast enough

'Dammit.'

Leonel's body. He bounced around like a pinball. Every time it seemed like he would escape, he'd find another fist or foot in his path, throwing him back from whence he

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

it was never there but by then, Leonel's gaze had already become a frightening cold. The Aina reflected in his gaze became nothing

only to suddenly have all the air he could breathe at once. His body thrummed like it had been hit with a spike of dopamine, his movements suddenly becoming

of flesh and bone. Rather, the two were like machines of war,

up for in spades. What Aina lacked in calculative

violent with each passing moment. Their eyes locked