Dimensional Descent

[Thanks to Ian <3 (6/6)]

"HAHA! My stage has come!"

A boisterous laughter that should probably come from a War Lord instead of a Crafter echoed.

A young man wearing beast skins kicked a door open with a foot and brought half the house down as a result.

"Talon! You son of a bitch! Didn't I tell you-"

The laughter drowned out the rest of the spiel. Talon couldn't be bothered to listen, his laughter causing what remained of the home to shake on its foundations as though it might collapse at any moment.

Talon was huge. He stood at over two meters tall, had boulders for shoulders and a round belly that seemed made of iron. Despite his round belly, when he breathed, one could see the visible striations of his abs.

His entire body was coated in crimson runes that took the shape of tiger stripes, and every time he roared with laughter, they would greedily suck up the Force in the surroundings.

This young man was a member of the Barbarian Race. They were a Race of beings who couldn't form their own Nodes or Nodal Pathways. In fact, they didn't have an Ethereal Glabella either, and some speculated that they didn't even have souls in the natural sense.

It was hard to guarantee such things because the Barbarian Race wasn't one to experiment. They didn't care about the details. All they knew was that the more they ate and fought, the stronger they got.

And that was indeed how it worked.

The Barbarian Race might not have any Nodes, but that was because all the Force they absorbed went directly into their flesh and blood.

The purest of the Barbarian Race were essentially walking wrecking balls.

Leonel had been here, he would have been endlessly fascinated by this race... because in effect, they seemed to be large Neutral Force

to any

this was precisely why they were a Race of Demi-Gods. Only existences of such strength were worth such a title. And this was also why the largest concentration of Destruction Sovereigns

young man who was excited by

going to be the best

up! You're a Barbarian,

"A Barbarian Crafter!"

from somewhere within the broken house, but it disintegrated the moment it touched the young

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

**

"I have to go."

dangerous. Our Dwarven Race has had a Dream Pavilion to protect us all this while and we barely managed

jaw clenched and

was the young prince of

is our only path forward. We survived this culling, but will we survive the next? Our Crafting skill is our best asset, and it's currently what's

this Bubble for too long, trying to make progress alone because

weak. However, now that we have a chance, a small light of hope to change

"I must go."

He knew that his son was right but... the discrimination the Dwarven Race faced was too great. His son might not make it back for a reason that might be as ridiculous as looking at someone the wrong way. If such a

just know that I tried my best.

sort of ignoble existence isn't right for anyone to suffer through... I will

**

of his battle with Aina played in his head again for maybe the fourth time that day already. It had already been a while since that battle, but he thought

fear or some sick, twisted love fantasy that

was despite the fact he was a