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.

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

obvious: it was Eamon

risks here and there, how could he even catch Leonel's eye to begin with? Just because he didn't take the same risks Leonel would, didn't

still just the tip of

get used to scrounging up information from tidbits and pieces of materials that were once whole. His deduction reasoning abilities should

Legion have any materials to systematically teach him Crafting? Even Leonel had his father leading him step by step. In this regard, Eamon was actually

and Force Arts so blatantly before his

...

aback as his javelins were shattered. He thought that he could end the battle with just a single strike, but this

Humiliation. A great Humiliation.

his Hands of God pulsed with

he could decide his next move, the next wave of attacks had already come, Gregwyn appearing before

flustered, striking out with a

with a single fist, jagged lines of red forming out from the

crushing it and landing on

sound of cracking bone echoed and Eamon released a howl as he

far, one of Gregwyn's Hands of God slammed down

his body from turning into a meaty pile of

but the palm

the talismans on his body began to crack. If things