Dimensional Descent

So, that was what Leonel did. Not standing on ceremony, he pilfered everything he could find, hoping that he would make some sort of breakthrough. But, for the first time, it actually came quite slow to him.

He didn't understand much about music theory. What made notes sound good together, what was harmony, he didn't even know what a scale was.

Music wasn't really a path followed in the Dimensional Verse, maybe because it was too complex, or maybe because many didn't really see a point. There seemed to be a Force for everything, but there was no such thing as "Music Force", the same way there was no such thing as "Art Force" or "Painting Force".

Instead, such existences were amalgamations of other Force applied in seemingly useless ways.

Music Force was just a different application of vibrational Forces that sounded good to the ear, but there was no set 'Music Force'. Rather, there was no such thing at all. It was a seemingly silly application of something that was otherwise greatly useful.

The Dwarven Race, however, was able to break through this uselessness and find something far deeper hidden within, and this was what greatly fascinated Leonel. At the same time, it taught him a valuable lesson.

Leonel didn't like wasting time on things that didn't seem to make logical sense to him. If it couldn't be explained, then it was a mostly useless endeavor. This sort of philosophy governed most of the things he did, even down to his own moral doctrines and how he valued life itself.

However, if Leonel were to make a guess at how exactly the Dwarven Race had stumbled onto such a wonderful Force Art language, he would have to admit that there was no way they had seen the truth from the very beginning.

formed their homes with acoustics in mind because they

a collection of them, finally made the

taken? If Leonel had been among their people, he would have probably been among the first to

he say this

this? But he also wondered just how many useless things would never shine

that they wouldn't shine…? Or was it that there was never someone great enough born with enough

be made useful so long as the

to pass down something his grandfather had likely spent a

I not take things seriously

blinked, not answering

or enraged by something, and these days, the only thing that could push him over the

when his father was threatened by Micaarth, Leonel was necessarily enraged. His gaze went cold, but at best, he just focused a bit more. Leonel's belief in his own father was simply far too high and far too great. Someone like Micarth taking his father's life was far too much of a joke,

different matter entirely. Leonel had never seen his dad be anything other than a sarcastic prankster all his life. The

when he said those three words. The rage, the fury, the willingness

the Three Finger Cult was present,