Dimensional Descent

Velasco raised his spear, his gaze red. But it was hard to tell if it was because of his emotions, or if it was because of the blood flowing across every inch of his body, only obstructed by the black chains that layered atop of it. Even so, the tip of his spear was as steady as could be.

Maybe one of the first things a new spearman would learn was how to raise and hold their spear. Those that learned fast would learn the importance of a steady blade, one unmoved by fatigue and imbalance. It was the foundation of the fundamentals, both the most basic and the most perfect.

It could be said that there were absolutely no flaws in Velasco's form. When he raised his spear, the world itself grew steady as though influenced by his calm.

The expressions of the Ancestors and Four Great Families changed.

The Silver Emperor took action first, moving swiftly. His face as placid as ever, he didn't seem to notice the danger that stood before him at all, he couldn't feel the hidden sharpness or the soaring spirit. He moved like a puppet would, emotionless, uninspired, plain and ugly, a contrast so completely against everything Velasco stood for.

Velasco took a step forward, his body swaying with weakness, but the tip of his spear just as steady.

Velasco's spear and that of the Silver Emperor's clashed, the latter crumbling to ash.

It was the simplest of stabs, but it tore a gaping wound in the Silver Emperor's shoulder, shredding apart the dominant arm on his spear.

stand idly by. They didn't know what had happened just now,

laughter echoed when he saw them coming. The Silver Emperor was thrown back, a slight tremble of his spear

appeared not seeming to impact his vision in the slightest. He moved with a complete

of the Nomad Emperor. The latter only trembled once before his head burst to pieces, his

Figure raising higher and higher into the skies before she suddenly slapped down. Her palms

his lips remained in a grin even as more blood seeped through his teeth. He didn't even move, his

the Emperors of the various Races couldn't touch the hem of his clothing. But Leonel knew that this was simply his father's pride. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction. Even if it meant taking the full brunt of the attack, never being able to take advantage of his flight to disperse some of the

It wouldn't be these people who

in a steady stream. Like beautiful flowing water, moving with the grace of laminar flow, It

head burst apart, falling to the ground

across at Velasco's waste, its blade shimmering beneath the gold clouded skies. It looked like he

again too late to react. The blade cut into his hip, ripping a path toward his spine and seemingly carrying the momentum to

again remained in place, grabbing onto the tail with a steady hand. The expression on his features was one part mocking and another part sinister. He looked down on these so-called Emperors from the bottom of his heart, the very depths

through his body, pulling the Uh'Cerax closer to him and piercing out with

sturdy carapace was like