The Martial Unity

Leonel closed his eyes, a deep unwillingness sinking into his heart.

That day, when the virgin sacrifice almost strangled him to death, he really had resigned himself. He had even said goodbye to his father. Yet, he woke up.

How was he supposed to feel about that exactly? Was he supposed to think he was forgiven for the 1000 deaths that lay squarely on his shoulders?

Uncle Montez had said it clearly. Sub-Dimensional Zones were points in Earth's history where an event that connected to the Fourth Dimension occurred. In other words… They were real.

Every throat he pierced, every head he severed, every life that slipped away. They were all real.

Leonel had a hard time dealing with that. The reason he had smiled so brightly when he finally saw Aina again was because he thought that she was his light, the only pure thing remaining in his life. But she shattered that image barely a moment later.

In truth, Leonel didn't even know what he was fighting for anymore. He guessed it was just some primal instinct to survive, but he couldn't think of much else. Clearly his parents weren't that much of a motivating factor considering how easily he had given up in the temple.

'What the hell is wrong with me?'

Leonel might have just turned 18, but he was just a kid in the end. He knew that he didn't want to be a quarterback for the rest of his life, but he never really thought about what exactly he wanted to do outside of that.

Leonel chuckled to himself as seven A-grade Invalids converged. By now, it wasn't just them anymore, but numerous lower level Invalids who crept forward as well.

'The most important part of my identity all that time was just liking her, huh… I don't know whether I should be sad or laugh some more.'

The truth was that Leonel was trying his best to find a reason to fight back, to put his life on the line once again and bloody his hands once more.

For his parents? He had already tried that once before. For Aina? He didn't even know if he still felt the same way about her. For his friends…?

Leonel thought of James. His best friend for as long as he could remember. To this day, he still didn't know why James tried to throw the Championship Game. He didn't know why he hadn't just let him do it either. They had already won three times, and winning a fourth would have been meaningless.

"I know you too well. You don't like to lose, but you're too soft-hearted to call me out on my bullshit too. So, you'd find a way to protect our friendship and ignore it, all while winning the big game anyway. Am I right?"

James' words to him reverberated in Leonel's mind. He suddenly felt his hands moving of their own accord, sliding three silver bars out and screwing them together.

have to be that simple

didn't like to

from an 18 year old boy. If Leonel thought any more deeply about it, he too would find it ridiculous that he was trading what he thought was his moral code for a will to win. But the reality was that Leonel was looking for something, for anything, to

silver rod. The moment his bike fully formed, he jumped onto it, riding up the side

spent

100 meters. Four are between 100 and 300. The last one is further than 400

he found it easier to feel

before, in the last three days, that is. He knew how sensitive they were to humans. It took a lot of effort to shake just one off. If these seven caught sight of their base, Leonel would no longer be able to guarantee everyone's safety. Even James'

was to handle. Their 'stats' not only became more well rounded, but their intelligence wasn't

expertly using his high coordination to balance on the rubble before shooting forward once more. He controlled his bike with a single handle and used the other to grab a dart, shifting

Leonel rounded the corner of a building that seemed just an inch away from falling completely over. Half of its top was completely

made eye-contact with those cold, emotionless white pupils. They locked onto Leonel with a concealed murderous intent as though it was still

so arched that the back of its hands almost dragged along

its lazy appearance, it dodged Leonel's first dart with ease despite being just 20 meters away. Its lanky body curled at an impossible angle, its head

and reconnecting bones, making it

stats between 0.50 and 0.60. D-grade entered the up to 0.70 realm. C-grade was usually up to 0.8. B-grade was below 0.85 with A-grade being below 0.90. Leonel wasn't certain about the S, SS and SSS-grades. In addition, the spirit stat seemed to work a lot differently. The Priest

averages. Some could cross barriers

to have more of its 'stats' in Coordination and Reactions. Though its strength and speed were still

'How unfortunate…'

pedaled into a ten meter radius in a flash, jumping into the air and turning

happen to be my

Invalid. His movements were wild and almost without reason. Anyone could see with a glance that he had never been formally trained. And yet, those very same wild movements seemed simple and precise to the

would realize that it wasn't that Leonel's style of battle was usually this wild… It was that he was actually adapting his fighting style to match that odd style

tilted his head to the side. He had already seen through

strong step forward. His silver rod spun in his hand, its butt rounding in a beautiful semi-circular arc

with a hand, reaching to his back and pulling out a

his dart out, he had already turned his silver rod back into a bicycle and dashed away. By the time he scooped up the

closing in. There's no way it won't sense them within fifty meters. But before that, it should be meandering on instinct… I need

meld with his body, but he didn't have much of a reaction. His face held an expressionless visage to it, there was

a tight corner, riding up the side of a collapsed