Dimensional Descent

1959 Emptiness

When Armand looked up, he could seem to see Leonel's gaze. Despite the armor, despite the construct, despite the rippling obstructions of Force, he could still feel it.

It was a gaze of dominance, a gaze that demanded submission, a gaze that wanted to crush the pride in his heart and force it into obedience.

An absolute defense circulated around Leonel. An absolute offense graced the tip of his spear. And with a step, a flawless synergy seemed to be formed.

The blade of his black spear grew and dwarfed Armand's blades in the blink of an eye.

"Kneel."

It was just a single word, just a single syllable, just a single breath. However, the world seemed to change colors.

When the tip of Leonel's spear appeared before him this time, Armand saw that it was bathed in a violet light as well. Sometimes, the essence of a spear technique didn't need a long phrase behind. Often an emotion didn't need a long explanation attached to it. Leonel's spear seemed to embody this, and it demanded surrender.

The unwillingness bubbled up from deep with Armand and his battle intent quickly turned to fury.

BANG!

At that moment, the shimmering image behind him solidified and grew with a towering majesty. The form of a golden minotaur stood. Its horns shimmered like two gems, its body looking as though it was carved of the most precious gems.

the Taur Ancestors rose to their feet, the

grew yet another size, the veins coursing throughout his body pumping. In the past, there were only faint flecks of gold, but now, they radiated a dense golden energy as though liquid gold was coursing

and swung

the world fell into silence for just a moment before

beneath and around them was blasted apart, a large crater spreading out. The air snapped and crackled, and the region for countless kilometers was lit up by

resistance, but so too did Armand. The faces of his construct and Armand were practically nose to nose. They leaned forward,

that moment,

slashing across his chest as though it was nothing more than wet paper.

was still blazing in his eyes, the golden idol to his back making that intent clear.

toward the cracked

shown signs of cracking and fracture. Although Armand had tried to protect them

so. These Heir Wars weren't about his own selfish desires to do battle,

was a moment of silence

he

almost the height of Leonel's construct.

once and Armand's head was

into silence. Veins popped across their forearms and foreheads, the heat in their surroundings rising as their