Dimensional Descent

Leonel blinked, his brows furrowing.

He hadn't put any power behind that. In fact, he had lifted his arm quite gently. However, the power behind it was completely unlike anything he had experienced before. That was easily two times more powerful than his most powerful spear strike, of course assuming that he didn't use any supplemental Forces and solely relied on his Spear Force.

Despite this, Leonel wasn't happy with this.

He suddenly realized the real reason his uncle was constraining him to paper and canvas like this. Even when his uncle played music, the blades of Spear Force had all been restrained and didn't even wake up Aina. And yet, he had hardly touched the paper, but he had already split the table in two and made the tower tremble. If it wasn't for the sturdy walls of this odd training room. He probably would have pierced through it as well.

Leonel's eyes narrowed.

He had forgotten something important. It wasn't just about embodying the word or the line of poetry, it was about concentrating that embodiment into the tip of a spear.

It was about controlling it.

Leonel's brow furrowed. How would he do that?

Embodying forcefulness was easy, he could even use his Ability Index in tandem with his King's Might to change the foundation of his demeanor. He only listed everything he felt embodied forcefulness, a list of phrases, words, and even paragraphs, and then he tailored his King's Might to step into that sort of momentum.

However, if he added the word control to that list, it would basically negate all of the other words he had put in, making the list he had created absolutely useless. What was the point of the list to begin with if he added such a contradictory word to it?

How could you be forceful and controlled at the same time?

Leonel fell into thought, his mind running in overdrive. Everything he thought of seemed to contradict itself in one way or another.

about concentrating

He thought that maybe the answer was to narrow the scope of the forcefulness. But, not only would that also be contradictory, it would probably only make the effect more exaggerated. If he

'Wait…'

his heart skipping

pen and the words of your heart guide the stroke of your

or even a piece of poetry, the cadence and feel didn't remain the same throughout the

things he had placed on the list: "unworried… No, not unworried, more like

line in his mind

and still not caring. That was the key. It wasn't about being forceful all the time. Control didn't mean

restrained in your forcefulness. Rather, it was about understanding and picking the right time to be forceful. Or, it was about grasping the full scope of the situation and

this point, his

manifested itself in different ways depending on what your goal was, the scope of the word was far

table. Ink drizzled down, paper was flung in all directions, but

time, when his pen finally struck downward, it was

was like a piercing spear toward the eyes of all those who saw it. If there was someone here to witness this moment now, while to Leonel, he could see it clearly, to them, the light would feel just as blinding as

the air, the SHIIIING sound of dancing blades resounding

the broken table, it tore through, leaving an imprint and searing

but Leonel's frown hadn't disappeared. It was completely unknown why, by all rights,

the training room opened and Montez peeked his head in. The building had suddenly threatened to implode and he came to check what the hell had happened.

would be funny when Leonel got kicked out. But, he ended up coming back before

into the table, his brows shot up. But, whatever surprise he had felt was quickly concealed as

a bit embarrassed, but Montez

handwriting is shit. Are you planning on creating