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.

...

In the end, this was the first time the Omann had used this Starship, they were yet to

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

trident, cold and merciless, enveloped the

no sideways movement to his steps at all, he barrelled forward as though he had given up on life and sought to die

until it

only a kilometer that separated himself and Leonel. This was nothing more than child's play in terms of distance at their strength. But it hadn't mattered because Leonel couldn't even get

nine kilometers, crossing a distance that should

time he shifted to one location and the canons reacted, he

in terms of how fast they could move, their recharge time, their recoil, and the

was not even half a second. The recoil was minimized 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

However, in Leonel's eyes...

no matter how minimal, was still minimal. Thickness, no matter how thick, wasn't infinite. And calculations, no matter how fast they were done, couldn't possibly be done faster than his

barrels, their limitations, and what regions they could currently attack, had all appeared in Leonel's mind. Every time he moved, he would force the barrels to overextend themselves, then suddenly step into the nearest blind spot they couldn't react fast enough

and