Dimensional Descent

"What is the meaning of this?" Minerva sat on her throne. Her face didn't have the same peaceful cadence it usually had. Instead, it had pulled back into a mask of tempered indifference and coldness.

Every time Aina battled, she would find herself becoming more and more annoyed. The obvious death that should have happened wasn't happening at all. In fact, Aina had started off as the center of attention, and was only becoming more so.

Not a single person she had faced seemed capable of lasting more than a single exchange against her. The only exception was the Luck of the Draw Ability Index user, who probably should have become the center of attention himself. And yet, even in this case, it was quite clear to everyone that she hadn't truly been on the edge of life and death.

They thought that she was just interested in a good battle, but even after running into more opponents with quirky abilities that even seemed to counter her directly, it didn't seem to matter.

Those that led with strength were ruthlessly crushed, and even those that seemed to have greater skill or finesse were ruthlessly crushed much the same. There simply didn't seem to be a method of stopping her because they couldn't even find what her bottom line was.

It didn't make any sense. For the humans to produce one Leonel, it was already exaggerated enough. Why was there now a second Aina? And what were the odds that they were also a couple?

If it wasn't for the sake of her face and maintaining her dignified aura, let alone asking this question, she would have long since erupted.

Octavia and Seraphina stood down below, their eyes glued to the ground. However, there was something off about them immediately. Whether it was Octavia or Seraphina... both only had a single wing.

Before the two could answer, the doors to the Dream Pavilion were suddenly opened and a man strolled in with bold strides. He flashed Minerva a grin and even gave both Octavia and Seraphina crisp slaps on the ass. He didn't seem to care for their reactions at all.

Minerva's gaze sharpened and her barely controlled rage almost bubbled over.

"Elrik, this isn't the place for the likes of you," Minerva said in a low tone.

"Is that a way to speak to your husband?"

agree to such a thing?" Minerva practically bared her teeth, gripping her throne's armrests so hard that they cracked. Her wings flared out to her back, forming a wind so strong that

Elrik, however, seemed unfazed.

you stroll around here, playing goddess for long enough. Now, news of my woman being looked down upon and ignored by other men is spreading. How

still ALLOWING you to call me husband instead of just master is because of the Race's matters. If

savage beast. His face was just as astoundingly handsome, and yet he exuded a darkness that

to her feet with such speed that the throne shattered

of power I wield

lifetime. Anything you dare to

but Elrik only turned around and walked away,

is raising the Owlan race to Godhood. Forget the Minerva Race, forget this bullshit Dream Pavilion, and most importantly, forget your little

less. You've trained enough to

words, Elrik

radiant eyes turning a deeper and deeper

only she could have gotten her hands on

insane. Trying to evoke the name of a fallen God Race when her entire lineage wanted to distance

something to be proud of, and which of them didn't know that their enemies wouldn't allow them to

returning to Godhood, but he was doing nothing more than blowing hot air. None of them,

men who thought themselves greater than they were, but they lost out in

She clenched her fists.