Dimensional Descent

In a corner of a battlefield drowning in the scent of blood, a young man sat huddled, hugging a saber in one hand and a barely recognizable woman in the other.

Whenever he had time, he could only check on her like this. Within his heart, there was a constant weighted fear that seemed to drive its erratic beating. It was a fear that she might breathe her last at any moment, that their next seconds might be their last seconds together.

By some miracle, she had managed to last for this long, but the bleak future ahead made every moment that passed only grow more suffocating. It was like the laws of probability themselves were toying with his fate.

Every moment she survived should have been a happy event, and yet it was just a reminder that every following second only made it more likely.

It was times like this that he wished he was stronger, wished he was more like his cousin, more unrestrained, more powerful, more capable.

Half of his body tensed, the other half so gentle and unwilling to harm the woman in his arms that it split him into an odd dichotomy. Even so, he pushed so hard that his saber pierced into his flesh, tearing into him.

He didn't seem to notice. He already had so many wounds, what did one more mean? What did ten more mean?

'Weak. You're weak. He wouldn't have given up already. He would already have a plan, ten plans, a hundred plans. He would have already healed his woman. He would have already crushed his enemies.'

The voice of insecurity, inferiority, and rage bubbled within him. Every day, they seemed to get more and more difficult to rein in.

Hot tears streamed down his cheeks. It was impossible to tell beneath all the mud, grime, and caked blood, but the searing heat felt more painful to him than even the saber blade from earlier.

He just wanted to be better, to be more capable. But every step he took felt lacking.

loved more than anything in this world was hanging on by a thread because of his weakness. It was no longer just about

his tongue, hard, seemingly not caring even if he bit it off. What good was the ability to speak

the others and stayed by the side of his grandfather. But she had insisted on coming with him, on being by his side like she always had been. And he couldn't even reject her firmly enough

what he really thought,

He needed to

echoed in his mind. He couldn't stay here for long; he would be found soon. Those beasts had strong noses and the scent of blood was

up, carefully tying her to his back again and raising his saber. Not a single part of his body was

again, and the battles raged on. He didn't know

He would check if she still lived.

without a doubt the aura of a saber, but when he approached, it

absorb any energy

finally come across one of these benefits,

he seemed to

care about anything else. He

come with a roadblock. He couldn't advance as fast as his cousin, he couldn't

roadblocks were even caused by others. They were all his own weakness, his own

was tired of