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.

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 awakened to

answer was obvious: it was Eamon and Eamon

catch Leonel's eye to begin with? 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 every step of his

was still just the

and pieces of materials that were once whole. His deduction reasoning abilities should be

could the Slayer 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 beyond

Arts so blatantly before his

...

was taken aback as his javelins were shattered. He thought that he could end the battle with just a single strike, but this useless person had actually managed to block one of his

Humiliation. A great Humiliation.

Hands of

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

became even more flustered, striking

Gregwyn's own hand shattered it with a single fist, jagged lines of red forming out from the corner of his eyes as Dream Force pooled

shuttled through the illusory palm, crushing it

sickening sound of cracking bone echoed and Eamon released

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

flew from Eamon's mouth, but his talismans barely managed to keep his body from turning into a meaty pile of flesh and

to push himself up, but the palm didn't retract, pushing him down with

crack. If