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.

once, the Taur Ancestors rose to their feet, the excitement in their eyes practically boiling

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

swung

for just a moment

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 colors of gold and

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 headbutt than exchange blows

that moment, Armand's blades gave

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

mouthful of blood, and then another. The intent to battle was still blazing in his

down toward the cracked battle axes

and fracture. Although Armand had tried to protect them with his Battle Ax

felt that it was a bit unfortunate. He could have stopped when he sensed Armand's axes giving way, or he could have used a weaker spear from the beginning, but he had refused to do so. These Heir Wars weren't about

silence as Leonel

he said

on a knee, he barely had to, his increase in size having been enough that even while 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

trembled once and Armand's head

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