Dimensional Descent

For a Force Art to be well hidden was one matter. But for it to be capable of targeting one specific subset of people and not another was a whole other matter altogether.

In Leonel’s estimation, the best chance to do this was with the weapons they handed out. But then what would they do with those like Savahn who didn’t need them? If the Force Art was hidden in the arena, though, it was a problem. In a battle, who could guarantee who would stand where? And even when you started off in one location, you could easily end up in another.

That meant that the size or location of the Force Art couldn’t be the answer either. The best way seemed to be to use a targeted method, one where an expert of Dream Force would intentionally push and prod at the human combatants to make them step over the line.

However, this was very difficult. Toying with someone’s Dream Force was a tall task, and it required knowing and understanding said person intimately. You also couldn’t just make a person who was naturally reserved and controlled like Savahn, suddenly snap for no reason as well. For something like that, you would need a far more permanent method like Leonel’s King’s Might, for example.

But that was obviously not what was happening here either. And that left this. Below, there were streams of blood, moving through channels that overall formed the face of a Force Art. It was a shocking sight, and one that filled the air with a foul stench.

And it was almost entirely human blood, that Leonel was certain of. He had never heard of such a method, but theoretically it was possible, especially with a Force Art Language created specifically for this purpose.

It was a Force Art tagged with human blood, resulting in its effects only being useful against humans. And just like that, without the dampening effect of the arena’s stone present, all the human combatants, and the ones in the stands for that matter, all began to shake. Their eyes turned red and murderous intent shot out from them in all directions. Many even lost control of their Forces, lashing out at the air and those around them.

Leonel slammed the slab of stone down with such force that even though it fit right back into its original location, cracks spread out wildly in all directions. He was entirely unaffected by the stream of blood Force Art, no one here was worthy of attacking his mind, let alone influencing it. However, he didn’t need it to be absolutely furious.

The aura of that blood was clear to all that sensed it. It was human blood. This wasn’t Earth where the thoughts of people were slow. If any of the most ordinary people here were taken and plopped on Earth, even if they had their strength sealed, they would be akin to the greatest minds to ever exist.

Leonel didn’t need to say anything. The truth was clear enough. It really was endless. The bullshit was just continuous.

But he had also come to realize something. He had already promised Aina that he wouldn’t stall their happiness for the sake of what was happening in the wider world. And in that case, why should he be forced to swallow grievances either?

At that moment, Alderian had already moved. From the first instant that his Lord had given the command, he had done so. He was shaken by what he saw and sensed beneath that slab, but he was a military man to the core of his being. He was given an order, so he executed it. There was nothing else to think about.

His speed was exceptional, and the wind pressure of Leonel slamming the slab back down had done nothing to sway him at all. In fact, the very reason he could stand there, unaffected in the first place was two fold. First, he was too powerful. But second… why was it that the humans not fighting weren’t affected?

The efficacy of the Force Art was clearly tweaked so that it would only be effective when in a state of fight or flight.

In that moments the old Lord Guard hand already appeared before Leonel, his spear streaking outward after appearing in his hand.

However, he had only just begun to thrust it when it shattered and then fell into a current of vicious wind as nothing more than particles of ash.

Leonel looked at him as the old man paused in shock.

Even so, he was a man who had experienced many battles. He threw away what remained of his spear and continued forward with a palm.

“KNEEL!”

Leonel roared.

At that moment, Dream Force erupted around him, the visage of a demon ghost appearing to peel itself out from within his face and roar at the old Lord Guard.

The demon pulsed with a crimson hue, forming horns and hovering before Leonel’s face almost like a mask.

King Alexandre’s Ability Index and a technique he had taken from Somnus fused into one almost with his burgeoning World Spirit aura.

In the instant the word came out from his mouth, space cracked like glass, the old Lord Guard falling to his knees so heavily he may very well have shattered his kneecaps.

The demon mask slowly faded from Leonel’s face and he looked up.

With a wave of his hand, what remained of Thalion’s body shot into his palm.

Leonel punched and Thalion’s heart was ripped out… or so it seemed. Instead, the soul of a Spiritual Prince who had just lost his body lay there, sputtering and quaking.

“I’m only going to ask you this one time,” Leonel said coldly, a chilly wind pervading the arena, so much so that the temperature plummeted. “Who told you to slander the Human Race?”

Leonel didn’t have to explain what he meant by one time.

Speak any falsities, and his life would end right here and now, all his potential snuffed out at the hands of a man he didn’t even know.