Dimensional Descent

Leonel looked like an artillery unit, if artillery units came with one arm and humanoid forms, that is.

His entire body was strapped in countless daggers and needles. Just a cursory glance put the numbers well into the hundreds. They wrapped around his torso, his groin, his thighs, his calves, his ankles, even his neck! The only part of him that wasn't swamped was his left arm.

As though this wasn't enough, ten enormous javelin containers crashed into the ground, each easily over three meters tall and the javelins within them being even taller.

This was enough to make the crowd raise an eyebrow, but it was like Leonel wasn't satisfied with making a fool of himself only this much.

On the ground around him, several round shields lay.

"Is the Littlest Nova of the Morales family a tortoise or something?"

The individual who spoke was a prominent member of the sword factions, clearly uncaring about offending the Morales family. Plus, with Velasco gone, what did he have to fear?

A sputtering of laughter followed his comments. No matter how you looked at it, Leonel feared for his life so much that he had drowned himself in weapons he wouldn't even be able to use to their fullest potential.

Cross referencing his current appearance with all of the most successful individuals of the past, then seeing how each of Aina and Amery only had a single weapon each, it only made him look all the more pathetic.

Amery wielded a single wooden sword, just like he always did.

Ain wielded a single battle ax with a polearm taller than even her own body.

None of them even bothered to wear any armor. But then there was Leonel who would have probably drowned his face in weapons if he got the chance to do so.

"You've missed the big picture, Olfin."

"Oh? Enlighten me."

him. He's so flustered he can't even tell the difference between a spear and javelin. Tell me, you think he thinks the more spears he has, the better he'll

exaggerated. It was as though they were venting all the stifling frustration Velasco had left them with. In just these few hours alone, the head butting between the sword

spear faction couldn't even say anything in rebuttal. They had no idea what Leonel was doing. What did a Morales need so many daggers

were designed to balance in the air. A true spearman should be

I think you've overestimated his intelligence, Sarod. If he thinks so many shields will help him, he's already a lost cause. Look at him, he

ring, but in the skies, Cornelius stood with his arms crossed.

he was a bit confused.

…

closed, his mind entering a

Dream World, a perfect replica of his current state reflected in his mind. Then, one by one, the daggers, needles and knives dotting his

within Leonel's Dream World, building a new

hardness, sharpness, even how well they accepted

Leonel's eyes opened, a deep sharpness split the space before them in two. At the very same instant,

world of deep fog around

was useless. Today, he'd

stepped on the shield before him. It was the

him. It was a meter and a half wide and three meters tall. It had an intricate design and Force Art on its face, but it was ultimately

he chose them. These shields weren't

stepped onto the shield, it rose high into the air, soaring

time, the round shields scattered around him shot forward, scooping

feeling the rumbling of the first floor

seemed to lumber and yet had speed that could rarely be matched

manes of flickering black flames and claws that shimmered with silvery, starry lights. Even the smallest among

…

beast horde on the first floor? Unlucky,"