Dimensional Descent

Eamon felt as though all his paths to retreat were sealed off. No matter where he looked, it felt as though the word death was being written into the skies just for his viewing pleasure.

Except there was no pleasure at all.

Shaken, he quickly solidified the talismans he had been forming. This time, under Leonel's tutelage, he had learned that sometimes offense was the best defense. He couldn't always turtle himself up and expect the best results. He had to do more than that.

Half his talismans were diverted to his defense while the other rushed out... forming shields.

Leonel didn't know what to say when he saw this, but it wasn't his place to try and force Eamon to change too much. In the end. If he couldn't take the steps he needed to himself, then all that was left would be death.

The falling javelins shattered the shields apart. It was hard to even say if they were delayed at all, a rain of silver and gold flooding the area.

Eamon unleashed a low roar that almost sounded much more high pitched than he likely wished for. Even so, it didn't slow his movements.

His hands expanded beneath the power of his talismans. An illusory cloak of palms covering his own until they matched the ones in the sky.

...

Leonel's gaze flickered before a wild grin spread across his face. And for the first time, shock radiated out from the Khafra Patriarch.

Eamon was imitating the runes on Gregwyn's palms!

'I knew it!' Leonel's eyes shone like torches.

was the environment Eamon was raised in? Setting aside just the living conditions themselves and focusing on Crafting alone, who was there to teach him? Who was there to guide him? How had he even

was obvious: it was

Just because he didn't take the same risks Leonel would, didn't mean that he was actually a coward, and in a situation where

just the

up information from tidbits and pieces of materials that were once whole.

teach him Crafting? Even Leonel had his father leading

you displayed such runes and Force Arts so blatantly before his face, how could he not learn to take

...

he could end the battle with just a single strike, but this useless person had actually managed to block one of

Humiliation. A great Humiliation.

as his Hands of God pulsed with

own hands, feeling somewhat flustered again. But before he could decide his next move, the next wave of attacks had

even more flustered, striking out

lines of red forming out from the corner of his eyes as Dream Force pooled and fueled

through the illusory palm, crushing it

echoed and Eamon

could even fly far, one of Gregwyn's Hands of God slammed down from

to keep his

to push himself up, but the palm

body began to crack. If things continued like this,