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.

"The implications of those words are quite

get in my way. What's the difference

didn't dare to speak, at least not

Leonel's lip curled.

a dangerous game," Thorne finally

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

come out from the soles

Thorne to pull his hand back reflexively, feeling that he might lose

he was burned from the inside out. He was still struggling to hold onto

break down beneath all their eyes. And yet, Leonel just stood there, gazing forward, his pale violet irises flickering with the reflection

Even the

as the flames danced across it seemed to be marked into

BANG.

fell to the floor, the heat of the blade having been so great that he

his self-forged body was nothing more than a weakness to be exploited. Maybe if he had a weaker body,

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

he was finished, Rhangyl wasn't even recognizable. He

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

lightly. "The world isn't a place you can be as willful as you please. You've cost your entire

"You're