Dimensional Descent

Leonel sent a casual glance over. There was no one capable of sneaking up on him, not among these people. He had already seen through them long ago.

It was a man-a Demon, rather. But he looked quite human aside from the purple scale on his forehead and the horns on his head. Even with this, though, he looked absolutely immaculate, reminding Leonel a lot of Elthor in that way. Neither were human, but both seemed to meet the aesthetic in ways human men could not.

Leonel looked down at the slender fingers grabbing his arm. The grip was light if it could be called a grip at all. It was more like a pat.

"Do you need something?" Leonel asked.

The Demon smiled, "my name is Thorne."

"You didn't answer my question," Leonel replied.

Thorne chuckled. "I think this has gone on for long enough, don't you think? You've already vented your anger."

"Have I?" Leonel asked, a smile spreading across his face.

"You know, in the world I come from, they always said Demons were vicious creatures without morality. I didn't think I'd meet such a soft one."

Thorne laughed even louder. "Don't all Races have their lessers? I've always heard that Humans are weak and fragile, are you the same?"

The question was rhetorical.

"A temporary ailment," Leonel replied without missing a beat.

narrowed. "The implications of those words

and yet trash keeps trying to get in my way. What's the difference between whether I speak

Thorne didn't dare to speak, at

Leonel's lip curled.

a dangerous game," Thorne

like him? I've killed three Owlans, maybe not officially, but I've definitely done so. Do you think this

smoke suddenly began to come out from the soles of Leonel's feet and

heat and Destruction caused Thorne to pull his hand back reflexively, feeling that he

burned from the inside out. He was still struggling to hold onto the spear, but the flame was so strong that his metallic

red and his body began to break down beneath all their eyes. And yet, Leonel just stood there, gazing forward, his pale violet irises flickering

heat from the very surface of a star. Even the clothing of people far off into the distance seemed to spontaneously combust, the Fire Force in the air multiplying to the point there didn't seem to

flames danced across it seemed to be marked into their very souls, a moment that they would be unlikely to

BANG.

to the floor, the heat of the blade having been so great that he was sliced in two,

his screams of agony echoed. By this point, his self-forged body was nothing more than a weakness to be exploited. Maybe if he had a weaker body,

though it was as hot as the core of a planet. His skin still seemed just as

he cut out another, then another. By the time he was finished, Rhangyl wasn't even recognizable. He was more

trapped within his body. Without a real death, he couldn't separate easily, especially not while his pain receptors

place you can be

"You're an annoyance. Piss