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.

eyes narrowed. "The implications of those

trying to exist, and yet trash keeps trying to get in my way. What's the difference between whether I speak or not? Are you going to reach out and pat the arms of

even Thorne didn't dare to speak, at least not

Leonel's lip curled.

a dangerous game," Thorne finally

I am. So how about you get your hand the fuck off of me before I skewer you like him? I've killed three Owlans, maybe not officially, but I've

began to come out from the

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

inside out. He was still struggling to hold onto the spear, but the flame was so strong

And yet, Leonel just stood

it felt like he was emitting 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

danced across it seemed to be marked into their very souls, a

BANG.

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

a mess of flesh, blood, and melted metal, writhing on the ground as his screams of agony echoed. By this point, his self-forged body was nothing more than a weakness to be exploited. Maybe

his palms as though it was as hot as the core of a planet. His skin still

then another. By the time he was finished, Rhangyl wasn't even recognizable. He was more a pile of goop and

real death, he couldn't separate easily, especially not while his pain receptors were firing so

lightly. "The world isn't a place you can

looked over. "You're an