Dimensional Descent

The music became something beyond just its notes and its resonance. It painted the atmosphere itself, deciding the rhythm of Leonel's heart and plucking the strings of his emotion. It was almost like nothing else mattered but the sounds he was hearing, even what was truly before his eyes no longer mattered.

When the music stopped, Leonel sat in silence for a long while, unmoving. His blood boiled, rushing through his veins like flood dragons. The beating of his heart thrummed like the roar of beasts.

It took him several moments to calm and realize that the music he had just heard sounded nothing like a xylophone. It felt like an entire orchestra was roaring at him.

Strings, brass, wind and wood instruments. It was far fuller than a single instrument could possibly hope to replicate. He couldn't understand how such a thing had been replicated.

When he snapped out of his daze, his brows furrowed as he tried to understand.

"Are you confused?"

"Yes," Leonel replied without hesitation.

In return, he gained a mallet to the forehead. Only when he started rubbing his forehead again, did Montez begin to explain.

"When you create your own instrument, you can make it sound like whatever you want it to sound like. If I want it to sound like a xylophone, I simply strike."

DONG!

Montez struck simply, allowing the metal on mallet sound to resound.

I want it to sound like a piano, I just have to change its

of illusory silver bronze Earth Force thinned out,

a piano landing, almost as though

to sound like a flute, I simply don't strike at

thicker. But this time, when

with the hovering illusory Earth Force, causing it to vibrate

as limited as your imagination. If I want you to hear a hundred different instruments

I'm guessing the mallet isn't necessary

guide. When you are in your strongest battle form, bringing out a pen or a mallet isn't possible. Though, I guess if you want to play around a bit, it wouldn't be impossible to deal with enemies

have strong enough attainments, or else you would

strike the air with a mallet, only to be cut in half

head. His uncle really was too much like his dad. If he wanted

flipped over, his mallet vanished, and a paint brush appeared after he finished laughing. Somehow, the air he gave

of your heart guide the stroke of your spear. Your mallet and the music of your heart guides the core principle of your Absolute Domain. However, it is the brush and dreams of your heart that guides the power of your

sharper and sharper as

a line. A dozen strokes sets a foundation. A hundred

to take form, circulating around Montez. A thousand strokes made the blades sing,