Dimensional Descent

In a few moments, Leonel could think of quite a few interpretations of his uncle's words, the most important and profound of which was the dichotomy between the presence of a clap of thunder, compared to the irony of the world's ignorance.

The clap of thunder was supposedly the subjects beating heart, and everyone could so clearly hear it, and yet they had no idea just what that represented.

Whatever hidden rage and fury that caused the skies to quake was still bottled away, hidden in the tip of the very pen before him.

It was a powerful imagery, and it made Leonel somewhat understand what his uncle was trying to say. The spear was a steady and controlled weapon, but that didn't mean that the intent behind it had to be. In fact, if the intent behind it was too shallow, then it also made the spear weak.

It was just like what his uncle had said about being a man. It was good if a man was willing to take on burdens and weigh down his shoulders. But, if he didn't have a good reason for doing so, if his resolve was weak and lacking, then his back would easily break.

Montez wanted Leonel's spear to be steady, swallowing up all its elegance and flare, and exploding it forth in a single strike.

"The calligraphy pen teaches the weight of words, but not just that. It teaches you how to embody the meaning and feel of those words into strokes. They're not just words, they are strikes of your spear."

Montez unfurled another sheet of paper.

"They can be FORCEFUL. They can be SUBTLE. They can be SWIFT. They can be GENTLE."

With every emphasized word, he wrote another, his strokes changing like the wind. Leonel's eyes glazed over, he could almost see the pen as a spear and the stance of his uncle, his style morphing on a whim and without the slightest pause.

The variations made what Leonel had learned from the primitive woman seem like a joke. He couldn't change like this, he lacked the proper sort of intent.

four words are the ones you will start with. Until you can replicate the intent to my liking, I won't let you continue to do other things, at least

to poetry?" Leonel

can't even understand the intent behind single words, how can

"Words…?"

with Myghell. That cousin of his had the habit of

exposed his devour type Ability Index, so Leonel

Ah, I see. This

his chin, smiling. He suddenly wanted to

the spear was self-created by your grandfather. I refined it somewhat after I matured and your father always ignored it, insisting on doing things his own way. He doesn't even use his

stopping himself from going on another rant

line, doesn't mean that others might not have

nephew, seem to be a bit

twitched. Was

but his mentality wasn't right to think of such a

to strength in this world, I should have guessed that there was such a method. But, if it was

far beyond poetry, painting or music. But, the difficulty in creating an Artistic Conception through Force

If Leonel wanted to give it life,

ready to start. But,

probably end up slamming your head against a wall trying to get this right. The only way for you to

done, the drain is far heavier than a monotonous task. It's even more important,

I will show you is the power of rhythm and