Dimensional Descent

[Bonus chapter courtesy of Mr. Mostert <3 3/6]

Leonel continued to sit there, staring into space. He didn't really feel depressed; he just felt a bit empty. And then, the anxiety came.

What was he doing? Facing off against Ninth Dimensional experts like he was on the same playing field as them? Was he insane?

These weren't even normal Ninth Dimensional experts either; these were Ninth Dimensional experts that could take someone like Clarence and turn him into a prop-up toy to be skewered and humiliated before the masses.

The moment Leonel had this thought, he felt disgust. This wasn't him. But why did the lines feel so blurred?

The immediate assumption was that his Dream Force was turning him into someone he was not, but this was clearly not the case. He wanted to be confident; he wanted to face off against enemies who scorned him and make them eat their words. That sort of anxiety wasn't something he would have normally.

Even when the influence of his future self was muted, and he had yet to enter the Dimensional Verse, he had always been the same. He hated to lose; he was willing to suffer for a victory, and he hated the idea of others controlling him.

He didn't even necessarily hate football back then; he loved the sport, even if he might have lied to himself and others in saying that he didn't.

He loved the control it gave him, that feeling of combat and war...

He suddenly remembered the first time he had stepped onto a real battlefield, back in the Camelot Zone. He had felt his blood boiling and the excitement spilled over into his actions. He had rushed headfirst into that army of Demons as though they weren't fantastical creatures he had never laid eyes on before.

He had loved every second of it.

That was true... that was another aspect of himself... he loved battle...

No, what he loved was competition. The more thrilling it was, the better.

then, to the point that his future wife

was someone with feelings, it wasn't to the point he'd have a

He loved being thrust into unbeatable odds and

was an adrenaline

but he had somewhat shot himself in the foot. He loved the adrenaline, but if he was

could only be considered stupid and more stupid, throwing himself at enemies he couldn't hope to defeat in the hopes

They never did.

Leonel's face. He was staring into space, and

have ever gone down this line of thought? If he wasn't so obsessed with not repeating those mistakes, could he

would he? His mind was filled with confidence in who he was and what his path was; why would he second guess it? Maybe the only person that could have corrected his path somewhat was his father, but he had already long since

there was that other man, the man he had only called master in his final breath. But if it took him so long to acknowledge him, could it have

his future self, but what he did know was that he had

Hutch told him about how he should use his spear, he completely brushed it off. It wasn't until years later that he took bits and pieces of those teachings and finally gave his spear a life of its own. But how long had that

was even more unruly to outside

he wanted to

his head vanished, and the robes that had adorned him likewise

madly cackling at his misfortune, but Leonel didn't seem to notice at all,

skin was slightly flushed. His mind was filled with thoughts of the Owlans, how powerful they

of red began to appear in his irises as he continued

feeling of anxiety, of sweaty palms,