Dimensional Descent

Leonel exited the Segmented Cube with an ironically satisfied yawn. He stretched for a moment, only to freeze.

His lip twitched.

’What the hell is this?”

There was a long line that had formed in front of his Segmented Cube, one long enough to truly

leave him speechless. He had no idea what happened while he was gone, but maybe news had spread a bit too quickly.

He really wasn’t in the mood to Craft for so many people, but in the end, he shook his head and chuckled.

At the end of the day, the Fawkes were his family as well. At least his interaction with Honey and Ji was positive enough for him to start to care a bit.

He had a bias toward the Morales because he had been pining after their Heir role for what seemed like most of his life at this point. Plus, it was his last name and how he had identified himself all his life.

However, he owed the Fawkes if for no other reason than his mother. She wouldn’t have wanted to see them fall by the wayside as she too had given up much of her life for their sake.

His mother’s side of the family deserved no less affection from him even if he had to butt heads with his grandfather eventually.

Life felt too fleeting. He might as well do what he wanted to do.

Leonel raised an eyebrow as what felt like his millionth guest finally came through. It was none other than Mordred and her seemingly now wife, Monet.

Monet’s lip was continuously twitching, but Mordred was practically dragging her.

”Well, well, well...”

”I’m leaving.” Monet’s temper flared.

Mordred couldn’t help but chuckle as she caught her fleeing wife.

”Can’t you tell that he’s doing it on purpose? He doesn’t actually care all that much!

”No, no, no, I really do care!” Leonel nodded assuredly as though he was scared that Monet’s scrunched-up face would unscrunch.

Mordred rolled her eyes. ”Ielp this one out a bit, would you, deary?”

”That depends”

”On what?” Mordred blinked innocently.

”Don’t let him make any demands. Em. I told you, I don’t need it!”

”Stop being so stubborn. If you don’t have this weapon, you’ll fall behind!”

”My baby probably needs a God Mother, too,” Leonel said with a smile. ”Not this one though; she can go away!”

Monet was only seconds from a wave of guilt before it all came crashing down. She really wanted to wring this little bastard’s neck.

Leonel continued to spend his days crafting as though he was waiting for something in silence. He knew that he couldn’t just leave and act on his own like he usually did; the stakes were different, so those around him would act differently as well.

It was on the third month of this monotony that Grand Prime Minister Green came to visit. At first, it seemed like a routine matter.

Grand Prime Minister Green was a Crafter himself, and he was also the one that originally built the factories to begin with. It wasn’t too much of a surprise that he would eventually lay down his pride to come only after so long.

Leonel didn’t think much of it. He assumed that even if the man didn’t need a weapon, he would come anyway if for no other reason than to have a piece of Leonel’s work to observe and study.

However, even Leonel was a bit taken aback when the man suddenly attacked just as he was handing the treasure over.

Leonel had some of the sharpest senses in all of Existence right now. For him to be taken aback by something, even calling it rare, would be too much of an understatement.

Even though he was taken aback, though, his reactions were as lightning-quick as one might expect. And even if they weren’t, he still had Dream Counter.

He hadn’t had to use Dream Counter in a very long while. It was an ability that only activated when his conscious mind couldn’t act fast enough to evade death. Only then would a pre-designed program effectively take control of his body and make it move on its own.

This time, he wasn’t close enough to death for it to activate, but he wasn’t far enough from it that he could come out unscathed either.

Everything made him believe that this Grand Prime Minister Green actually knew far more about his abilities than he should have.

Leonel’s gaze flashed.

His hands were occupied; the palm was almost at his chest, and there didn’t seem to be any time to circulate any Forces.

Fast, ruthless, and seemingly suicidal.

There were too many people here to witness this. And even if there weren’t, it was impossible that his grandfather wouldn’t learn of what happened later. It was like he had sent himself here for no other reason than to die.

’Ruthless indeed...’

BANG!

The palm landed against Leonel’s chest under countless astonished gazes. The reverberating boom was enough to make one’s skin crawl.

As terrible as the sound of the bones of a mortal breaking was, when it was the bones of a powerful existence like Leonel, it was many times worse. The tremendous amount of strength and pressure it took to push his current bones beyond the bounds of their limits came with an equally as tremendous sound.

It felt like the normal grating feeling of a bone snapping was dialed up to the ninth degree, and it was only made worse by the fact that the atmosphere was quiet due to their respect for Leonel’s crafting to begin with.

Leonel coughed up a mouthful of blood and was sent flying back like a meteor shot out of a cannon, but the light of surprise in Grand Prime Minister Green’s eyes was great.

All of those calculations, just to fail anyway? Leonel didn’t even seem like he had tried to dodge at all. He should have at least twitched.

But from start to finish, he only looked him right in the eye.