Dimensional Descent

"Oh, it seems that your rival is acting just as wildly as usual."

An old man chuckled after hearing the news. He leaned back in his chair, taking a swig of alcohol and seemingly uncaring about Amery's feelings on the topic. He was quite sloppy for a man of his stature, but he didn't seem to care about that either.

"Rival?" Amery said lightly.

The old man's gaze flashed with a hint of coldness that was completely different from his usual demeanor.

"What did I say about excuses?"

The coldness in the man's words seemed to cause the temperature to drop by several degree. However, Amery was unmoved. He continued to squeeze and open his hand, wanting to make sure that everything was perfect. He didn't plan on picking up a sword with this hand again until it was absolutely health. To a swordsman, the hands were far too important. He would rather only use a single hand until these lingering issues were gone than to risk aggravating it again.

Hands were among one of the most difficult non-lethal injuries to heal. There were so many bones, so many fragile ligaments, and so many potential variables. Amery refused to take any risks with his future.

He was the man who would stand atop the Human Race and repel their enemies with a single sword. He wouldn't do anything that compromised that.

"When did I make any excuses?" Amery replied. "I only questioned your choice of words. I don't see him as a rival. That is all."

The old man leaned back into his chair, the coldness dissipating as he took another swig.

After Amery finished saying this, he rose up.

more treatment

that, he turned

annoying brat." The old man

most of Amery's Sword Force was directed toward suppressing the

had refrained from using his Lineage Factor as it sometimes impacted his psyche. If he lost control of himself in battle and used more of his Sword Force than he should and the tribulation was released, it would

latter had that bow. But, he knew that if Leonel hadn't had that

was just annoyed he lost to someone he saw as inferior to himself and that was a loss he would remember. He would use it to fuel him so

to do it. As

know that he never even wanted the

voice, this one clearly feminine, rang

but he thinks that his sword is all he needs. If he had listened to me to begin with and spent

you, too, lost to Ishmael Morales. Now you're trying

snorted but

for you old fogies, he wouldn't have gone to the

**

his stamina was on a completely different level now. But, that didn't stop his body from being drenched in

his eyes still maintained the same coldness, his body zipping around as it

was encircled from all sides. He couldn't even see a clear line to Aina. In fact, their Internal Sight connection had been severed by whatever interference the Dwarven

in defense than the barrier protecting