Dimensional Descent

Cynthia didn't care about the state of her body, nor the Omann family elders trying to sustain her life around her. She felt that since she still had her consciousness, her survival was inevitable. She would get her revenge in due time. What she cared about now was the death of Leonel.

She had given Kron a blueprint she had spent the better part of the last few decades on. It was a machine that would allow the Omann's to rise to the top. No one would be able to compete with them. This... was nothing more than an appetizer.

If before she didn't care much about Leonel and only wanted him dead for the sake of avoiding accidents, she now wanted to see Alienor's face when she learned that she had both survived and was the cause of her son's death.

Although Cynthia's expression was unmoved, the viciousness in her heart was practically like crawling, black-scaled snakes, imprinting themselves throughout her veins and arteries and turning her thoughts dark and gloomy.

No one knew what her thoughts had been like in the years since Velasco didn't show up to their wedding, no one even knew whether she had loved Velasco or not. The world could never read anything from her expression and even when she was on the brink of death like this, she had given nothing away at all.

In truth, though she wanted to see Alienor in pain, she was actually partially grateful.

Much like no one knew what her true emotions were, even fewer knew what her Ability Index was. But this time, that was because even Cynthia herself hadn't been aware of what it was. All her life she had assumed that it was just a minor Ability Index that boosted her strength or speed, but this was unexpectedly not the case.

Just now, she had truly died and been reborn. If she already stood atop the world before, she would supersede even this world in the future. And the first step toward that glory... was the death of this thorn at her side.

...

first time the Omann had used this Starship, they were yet to become used to it. The more they fired, the more accustomed they became, and the sharper their attacks and their

on the aiming of the barrels rather than waiting to time the trajectory of the lasers themselves. But the sharper the Omann family became, the more and more difficult this became as

that Leonel's gaze had become akin to the sea god's trident, cold and merciless, enveloped the chilly depths of the dark

sideways movement to his steps at all, he barrelled forward as though he had

deepened until

more than child's play in terms of distance at their strength. But it hadn't mattered because Leonel couldn't even get close. In fact,

nine kilometers, crossing a distance that should have gotten him

board. Every time he shifted to one location and the canons reacted, he would shift again, sliding into

limitations. These limitations came in terms of how fast they could move, their recharge time,

not only by the design of the barrels, but also the thickness of the lasers-although they were far thinner now than when they were fully charged, that was only relative. As for how fast they could move side to side and up and down in order to re-aim, that was even smoother, they were

However, in Leonel's eyes...

of time. Recoil, no matter how minimal, was still minimal. Thickness, no matter how thick, wasn't infinite.

limitations, and what regions they could currently attack, had all appeared in Leonel's mind. Every

agile and his steps