Dimensional Descent

Emperor Fawkes looked toward Leonel deeply, but couldn't quite read anything on his face. This grandson of his used to be an open book, but after just ten years, he was already so closed off and guarded already. Such was the weight of existence.

"Nothing else to ask me?"

Leonel's lips curled. "There's not much to say. My gramps is a useless schmuck who can't even allow me the leisure of being a useless, second generation, nouveau riche, brat. I hope you feel ashamed."

Emperor Fawkes was speechless for a moment before he burst into a fit of laughter.

"Look at this guy, having the time of his life," Leonel shook his head. "At least give me some treasures."

"What treasures could you possibly need? The Emperor's Might Lineage is already with you, that's already the most valuable thing I can give you."

"If you're cheap just say so. Who're you trying to fool?"

"You're not going to con me out of my wealth, brat. If a man can't make his own way, what worth does he have."

"You know, that's not very progressive of you to say, and quite sexist."

"If you had your balls snipped, just say that."

Leonel didn't even know what to say to that. Wasn't this supposed to be a dignified Emperor? Now he was talking about his grandson's balls?

feet. His aura was quite imposing, and it was almost too easy for Leonel to forget, most because he didn't feel any of its pressure. He had no doubt that his grandfather was quite powerful, at the very least powerful enough

him to go to the Dream Pavilion because it would help the old man in whatever

that could shake his resolve, even that was his very own family. In fact, Leonel had no real certainty, but he was fairly certain that even getting married and having children was no more than a means to an end for

grandfather was an enemy or not, Leonel didn't really know. At the very least, for now, he

his grandfather and toward the tall ceilings of the palace. He guessed that he wanted to see more of the world, and while he was at it... he would conveniently destroy

surviving? So what? King might be dead, but he didn't believe for a moment that he was the only

what? Who knew what they had done for the "greater good", how many sacrifices they had allowed, how many good people they

weren't to be trusted? Good enough, he would just

coming to her. It might not be in a year, it might not even be in ten, or a hundred, but one day he would

down to find that his grandfather was

himself who was already 6'9", and yet he didn't emit that sort of perception until

forehead before he could react and a bomb seemed to go off

went entirely

a bubble. Outside the bubble, there was nothing but a vast blackness,

'What the hell happened?'

was sharp, and his comprehension of his body was great. Just by checking the energy levels of his cells, he could tell how long he had been

thought he had a pretty good guess as well. This place was the selection. The event had begun already

was wearing the same clothing. His finger still had Anastasia on it, at least, which was the first sign of good news. But even so, just what had

'Hm?'