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.

for more treatment tomorrow. My hand is still not

he

brat."

now, most of Amery's Sword Force was directed toward suppressing the tribulation of Sword Domain. It wasn't even

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

Leonel at his full strength even if the latter had that bow. But, he knew that if Leonel hadn't had that bow, the victor of

most, he 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 that

for challenging Leonel again to clear himself of humiliation, he didn't care to do it. As far as he was concerned, it was nothing more than a waste of

the Shadow Sovereign

voice, this one clearly feminine,

that his sword is all he needs. If he had listened to me to begin with and spent more time learning to control it instead of swinging that sword of his all the time, this wouldn't have been that large of

you, too, lost to Ishmael Morales. Now you're trying to project a rivalry of two

but didn't

for you old fogies, he wouldn't have gone to the Rapax Nest to begin with and he wouldn't have suffered that injury. Let

**

even. He found that his stamina was on a completely different level now. But, that didn't

his wounds had healed, he could feel his Healing Factor getting slower and slower. However, his eyes still maintained the same coldness, his body zipping around as it basked in

had been severed

place, that much Leonel could tell. The door to the throne room was only marginally weaker in defense than the barrier protecting the King and Queen. If they could destroy it, they already wouldn't be very far from