Dimensional Descent

Velasco raised his spear, his gaze red. But it was hard to tell if it was because of his emotions, or if it was because of the blood flowing across every inch of his body, only obstructed by the black chains that layered atop of it. Even so, the tip of his spear was as steady as could be.

Maybe one of the first things a new spearman would learn was how to raise and hold their spear. Those that learned fast would learn the importance of a steady blade, one unmoved by fatigue and imbalance. It was the foundation of the fundamentals, both the most basic and the most perfect.

It could be said that there were absolutely no flaws in Velasco’s form. When he raised his spear, the world itself grew steady as though influenced by his calm.

The expressions of the Ancestors and Four Great Families changed.

The Silver Emperor took action first, moving swiftly. His face as placid as ever, he didn’t seem to notice the danger that stood before him at all, he couldn’t feel the hidden sharpness or the soaring spirit. He moved like a puppet would, emotionless, uninspired, plain and ugly, a contrast so completely against everything Velasco stood for.

Velasco took a step forward, his body swaying with weakness, but the tip of his spear just as steady.

Velasco’s spear and that of the Silver Emperor’s clashed, the latter crumbling to ash.

It was the simplest of stabs, but it tore a gaping wound in the Silver Emperor’s shoulder, shredding apart the dominant arm on his spear.

The others, broken and shaken, realized that they couldn’t stand idly by. They didn’t know what had happened just now, but if things continued like this, there would only be one path remaining for them.

Velasco’s laughter echoed when he saw them coming. The Silver Emperor was thrown back, a slight tremble of his spear nearly shredding him to pieces.

He raised his spear with one hand and fixed his glasses with the other, the blood stain that appeared not seeming to impact his vision in the slightest. He moved with a complete lack of agility, a stumbling sort of inelegance that looked like a poor reenactment of a drunken fist. And yet, he swayed out of incoming attacks.

His spear thrust forward once again, shredding through the head of the Nomad Emperor. The latter only trembled once before his head burst to pieces, his body collapsing to the ground below.

Vexina of the Cloud Race crossed her fingers, her Cloud Figure raising higher and higher into the skies before she suddenly slapped down. Her palms seemed to layer atop of one another across time, fusing one another’s afterimages until they suddenly snapped into place and attacked Velasco all at once.

Velasco was too slow to react, his body stumbling and broken. He took the full brunt of the attack, but his lips remained in a grin even as more blood seeped through his teeth. He didn’t even move, his back straight and tall.

It looked as if even the Emperors of the various Races couldn’t touch the hem of his clothing. But Leonel knew that this was simply his father’s pride. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. Even if it meant taking the full brunt of the attack, never being able to take advantage of his flight to disperse some of the strength, he would still take it head on.

He was Velasco Morales. It wouldn’t be these people who gained the right to see his weakness.

Velasco spear thrust forward once again, yet another simple thrust. The blade glided through the air in a steady stream. Like beautiful flowing water, moving with the grace of laminar flow, It appeared before the Empress’s eyes, severing her face in two.

Her head burst apart, falling to the ground below.

The tail of the Rapax Emperor, Uh’Cerax whipped across at Velasco’s waste, its blade shimmering beneath the gold clouded skies. It looked like he had every intention of shredding Velasco into two.

Velasco was once again too late to react. The blade cut into his hip, ripping a path toward his spine and seemingly carrying the momentum to split through to the other side. However, just when it was half way through, Velasco’s body flashed with a bronze light.

He once again remained in place, grabbing onto the tail with a steady hand. The expression on his features was one part mocking and another part sinister. He looked down on these so-called Emperors from the bottom of his heart, the very depths of his soul.

His hand squeezed down and pulled. He ripped the Rapax’s tail through his body, pulling the Uh’Cerax closer to him and piercing out with his spear at the same time.

The Rapax’s sturdy carapace was like wet paper.

Every time Velasco attacked, another would fall. Every time he attacked, it would be the simplest of strikes, they didn’t even seem to carry any Force, but the world itself reacted. It was as though he was doing something he never did... He was explaining.

He was simplifying his strength, dulling it down to its very roots, extricating only the most important points and shedding light where there was once only darkness.

The Silver Emperor suddenly appeared once again, having finally flown back from the far off distance he had been stuck in. He closed the distance between Velasco and it in the blink of an eye, punching out with its only good remaining arm with an expression as cold as ice.

Velasco was ready this time. The Silver Emperor was the one he paid the most attention to.

However, at that moment, Ridryn, Emperor of the Spirituals, had raised his hands high into the skies. A strong, surging, metallic-like Earth Force took shape as countless hiltless blades appeared, each as powerful as the last.

With a sway of his hands, they all descended, moving toward Velasco the instant he had attacked the Silver Emperor.

Velasco had expected this, though, and circulated his Force in that moment, striking out a palm at the same time as his spear descended. However, midway through his palm strike, his Force seemed to have caught a snap in his Nodal Pathways, a mouthful of blood flowing out of his mouth as his aura was disrupted.