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.

at once, the Taur Ancestors rose to their feet, the excitement in

past, there were only faint flecks of gold, but now, they radiated a dense golden energy as though liquid gold was coursing through

and swung

fell into silence for just a moment before everything seemed to be

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

powerful resistance, but so too did Armand. The faces of his construct and Armand were practically nose to nose. They leaned forward, even somewhat crossing over their own weapons as if they would rather

that moment, Armand's

was nothing more than wet paper. He severed flesh and bone as one, cutting into his lungs and

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

down toward the cracked battle axes in

exchanges, they had already shown signs of cracking and fracture. Although

could have used a weaker spear from the beginning, but he had refused to do so. These Heir Wars weren't about his own selfish desires to do battle, his goal here

moment of silence

he said

down, he was almost the height of Leonel's construct. At that moment, he could have crushed his badge and escaped, but seeing the slaughter of his clansmen around him, his eyes dimmed. For the first time, his

and Armand's

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