Dimensional Descent

Leonel felt that his annoyance had yet to fade, but he still ended up exhaling a breath. He would much prefer to be the one fighting, but unfortunately, that wasn't in the cards for him this time around.

He made his way to the lab setting and sat at his workbench, his hands mindlessly roaming through its pits and valleys. Although he had a plan, he was still a little reckless today. He hadn't exactly ruined that plan, but he didn't help it much either.

At this point, though, his patience was very limited for such things. Seeing a man who had wiped out the Morales family made him feel that such a person shouldn't have the right to continue living, so he killed him. It was really that simple.

In truth, he really had no intention of wasting time bending to their whims, sleeping outside the city in tents, and being unable to trade even for his own food... as "great" as that sounded.

His honeymoon just ended and he was already annoyed with the world, fantastic.

*Bloop

Little Tolly flashed around Leonel's arm, pulsing with a gentle light that seemed to make him feel better.

"Yeah, we should Craft..."

Since he was feeling annoyed, why not focus on something that could help? The fact his Crafting was falling so far behind everything he was running into these days was another source of annoyance. If he could catch up and get rid of those bits of annoyance, then maybe he would feel better at least by a small margin.

Understanding Crafting better would also allow him to conjure up a stronger spear. Right now, he was relying too much on the strength of Scarlet Star Force and not enough on his own comprehension. Well, at least no comprehension of Crafting itself, that is.

as good as the projections from his mind. Given the strengths of his Ability Index, he could pretty much easily

thought that he was pretty good. In fact, he was probably excellent even by the standards of wider Existence... if his age was

the likes of King had been far better than

the road he had ahead of him was much clearer and wider than it had been in

the dictionary, rubbing his fingers

were the last messages he had from his father. Real messages. Not the cobbled-together

them on the desk. He hadn't worn them since his mother forced

married man now. Soon, maybe,

up on trying to

were constantly speed running toward its end? There

like to have a child, and he wondered if he should do something similar to what his

ran over the crystal frames before he took out a silk cloth and

where they could see his hands and then he turned back to the dictionary. Finally, his mind looked toward the final three

[The Value of Complexity]

[The Value of Simplicity]