Dimensional Descent

Leonel entered his workshop, his mind racing. It was hard to tell exactly what he needed, but the possibilities felt endless. Unfortunately, sometimes, having too many paths to take was as good as having none.

What he needed were a few good paths so that he could focus all of his attention on them.

His gaze flickered as he took a breath.

Since things had already reached this point, he would go all out.

The Human Domain couldn't be considered to have returned to its height. The time that had passed had been too short, and the turmoil had yet to return to a state of rest.

However, Leonel had already said it once before.

He hadn't come here to play King. He had a very specific purpose, and the stability of the Human Race had nothing to do with him.

He had already saved them once. Without his existence, they would have already been wiped out by the Sea Gods.

As such, he didn't hesitate for even a moment as he mobilized them in full force and began marching toward the Ancient Battlefield.

The blood of the humans boiled. They had been suppressed for years. The idea that they could have their revenge like this, and so quickly, was something that moved them all.

Very few had the insight to see that this wasn't the smartest thing to do. And even if they did, they could only sigh and keep their thoughts to themselves.

how it was that Leonel had been able to accomplish what he already had. Who were they to say

that the Humans would ever

the right path simply didn't

the Human Race was mobilized, the war cries of the Rapax echoed throughout the skies. They

had been to war. The excitement bubbled up from the depths of their souls and they formed a tide that rushed toward the Ancient Battlefield. Practically the entire Incomplete World could hear their

Dreadmaw stood, his gaze

wasn't 100% on their side, it was an intuition he had as a war. The Rapax were an incredibly pure race, so they were more sensitive to certain

so, he felt that he didn't have much of a choice in

only path was

than even Emperor Fleeting Cloud. His skin was wrinkled and long, grizzled hair of white and grey fell down

milky whiteness with just the faintest hints of blue. It was hard to distinguish between his irises and the whites of his eyes

the valiant aura he exuded

wrinkles. He leaned forward in his chair, a cane of white oak that looked somewhat like a mage's staff keeping

to tell if it was because his senses and reflexes had deteriorated so much, or if

the strongest armies of the Oryx. We are

old Oryx Emperor still didn't respond. He continued to stare off blankly into the

Oryx Domain, and as though hearing a call, several female Oryx rushed in. Each one held a piece

the Oryx Emperor as he stood to

stripped him of his clothing and clicked his armor into