Dimensional Descent

Little Blackstar gripped onto the ends of Leonel’s hair, baring his little teeth toward the coming enemies. If it wasn’t for the sturdiness of Leonel’s skin, his scalp might have begun to bleed already.

Leonel reached a hand up and gave the little mink a pat on the head, trying to calm him down. The instincts of beasts were usually beyond that of humans, so it was quite clear that Blackstar felt that both he and Leonel were in quite some danger. But, this only seemed to be the tip of the iceberg, Little Blackstar’s attention had definitely been caught by something else as well.

Manson’s gaze wasn’t on Leonel. Rather, from beginning to end, she had never taken her eyes off of the scrap metal, or what seemed to be scrap metal, before them. Even now, she couldn’t’ be certain of what Leonel was building and didn’t even know if it was one step away from completion or if it was a hundred steps.

This was why she had chosen to be cautious from the very beginning, whatever hint of drunkardness she had had having vanished a long while ago. She had been hoping that she could observe in silence for long enough to figure out what it is that Leonel was building, but she hadn’t expected to be called out like this ahead of time.

With Shadow Rat’s abilities, being found out before they wanted to be found out almost never happened. It was safe to say, then, that the one who was most shocked was the short man with the flapping wig. In fact, he forgot to hold it down for a moment, causing it to almost flip off his head entirely.

Manson finally took her eyes off of the pieces that lay around Leonel. She wasn’t a Force Crafter, so though she might be able to recognize an Ore in its raw or purified form, after it was processed like this, she was at a loss.

Still, she couldn’t help but look toward Leonel with an eye of curiosity.

Even if she couldn’t name these metals, what she could do was tell with absolute certainty that they were metals of the Fifth Dimension, each and every last one of them. Yet, not only was this child able to mold and manipulate them, he was clearly building something.

She was a layman, but at least she understood that this meant what ever Leonel was building… Had to be of the Bronze Grade at worse, right?

Manson’s heart skipped a beat.

Third Dimension. 21 years old. Escaped an encirclement of Fifth Dimensional existences… And a Bronze Crafter?

What the hell was this?

Out of habit, Manson began to lick her lips and teeth again, but the distinct lack of an alcohol taste left her feeling slightly frustrated. However, she was filled with a different sort of intoxication when she looked toward Leonel, and it definitely wasn’t because of his handsome looks.

She could almost feel it already. What kind of high would she experience snuffing out such a genius? How good would it feel?

Manson’s bare toes curled along the cold stone ground, her legs squeezing.

Ten short claw marks were left in their path, filling the quiet atmosphere with the sound of scraping and cracking stone.

Manson’s entire body quivered, a gentle gasp leaving her lips. Her breath was so hot that despite the temperatures not being near freezing, a steamy fog left her.

Her face flushed red and her pupils dilated. She looked as though she had entered a drunk state once again, except this one seemed even less innocent than the one from before.

Sparks flew within Leonel’s Dreamscape, but he frowned when he noticed where they came from. That region of his Dreamscape only lit up when Aina reached a less than holy peak. The fact it was lighting up now for a woman he didn’t even know filled him with an irrational rage.

Leonel didn’t know why he was reacting this way. Maybe it was because his talisman still wasn’t connecting, maybe it was because he felt he had done something wrong, or maybe it was purely because this woman was encroaching on something she should have never touched.

But whatever it was…

He was pissed.

Leonel’s pale violet eyes suddenly gained a flash of red.

BANG!

The tunnels quaked, a surge of violet-red energies emitted from Leonel’s body. In one instant, he had been a calm young man unperturbed by all. In the next, he felt like blasting his fist through someone’s chest.

Manson shot forward, using the ground she had scraped as an anchor to propel herself. She seemed to have every intention of destroying everything before her, including Leonel’s Crafts. No matter what it was, it wouldn’t matter if it was all in pieces, right?

She rose her leg up high, performing a perfect vertical split.

Winds and Forces swirled around her bare heel as she ax kicked it downward. Just the momentum of her planted leg was enough to destroy everything. As for the strength of her actual kick… Did it even need to be explained?

Leonel coldly watched on, his senses reached out and grasping at each one of the pieces of his Craft. With a thought, they all shot backward under his control, floating as though he had a telekinetic ability to manipulate them.

Leonel dodged out of the way of Manson’s kick, trying to store away the pieces of his Craft one by one. It was just unfortunate that doing so required touching his hand to them.

The result was Leonel dodging around the wide cave expanse, jumping, hopping and leaping toward the pieces he purposely hung in the air out of the way of danger.

He had expected Manson to target the pieces of the Craft after a while, but she was so enamored by the prospect of crushing him that none of it mattered to her.

If Leonel was dead, would he even get the chance to use his Craft in the first place? So why not focus on ripping his head off?!