Dimensional Descent

Lamorak's expression changed.

He didn't know what Soul Force was, it was a completely foreign concept to him. He had no idea that what Leonel called Soul Force was the very same Spirit Pressure he had known all his life.

This had been deliberate on Leonel's part. Without understanding what was going on, Lamorak only became more hesitant, allowing Leonel a few extra precious seconds. To the current Leonel, every single one of these moments mattered.

Still… it was just for a few seconds.

Lamorak wasn't a fool. He knew whatever was happening now would inevitably help Leonel even if he didn't know what Soul Force was. If he kept hesitating because of the unknown, the role of predator and prey might flip right before his eyes.

Ultimately, he was a veteran general of countless battles. The one thing he didn't lack was decisiveness. Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

Without hesitation, a fiery red and dense Force shot up around him like flickering flames.

He reached toward his back, pulling a massive, blunt and cylindrical mace from its holster before shooting toward Leonel.

He put his everything into this strike, not holding back in the slightest. He put so much power into his attack that the sturdy polearm of the mace bent into an elegant arc, whistling through the air with an opposingly grating sound.

BANG!

Lamorak was stunned.

This time, it wasn't because he missed or that Leonel managed to find a way to evade. Leonel hadn't moved a single inch. His brow didn't twitch, his fingers didn't tremble, his cold eyes didn't waver even as the mace smashed into his body, sending him flying into the sturdy walls of Camelot's castle.

Lamorak couldn't help but watch on with a speechless expression. What just happened? Was Leonel suicidal?

He knew himself just how much strength he had put into that strike. It was more powerful than any attack he had used against Leonel during their first battle.

Back then, Leonel couldn't even take on a casual strike of his. That alone had been enough to fracture Leonel's bones.

In truth, Lamorak had been stunned even back then. After all, a normal person would have been blasted into a cloud of gore after one of his strikes, let alone the fact Leonel hadn't been wearing any armor.

However, that was all. Besides being somewhat stunned, it wasn't enough for him to lose his mind.

This time, Leonel was also not wearing any armor. How could he possibly survive?

Lamorak sighed a breath of relief. It was finally over.

Just when Lamorak wanted to relax completely, he suddenly realized that the violent surge of Internal Strength was still spiraling. In fact, now that he wasn't panicking, he was stunned by just how much there was. It couldn't be that Leonel was trying to meditate? Wait, no, how could a single person's meditation cause such a thing?!

Lamorak looked toward Leonel who had cracked apart the walls of the castle. A spider web of shattered stone hung around him. But, those cold eyes were still there. His gaze never left Lamorak. They didn't flicker with pain or anguish. They remained completely emotionless as Force continued to seep into his body.

The Force entered his Ethereal Glabella, causing the Two Stars within his Ethereal Glabella to begin to slowly spin once more. It was so slow that it was difficult to tell that they were moving at all. At this pace, it would take several days just to complete a single rotation. Yet, Leonel was still persisting.

"You…"

Lamorak's gaze flashed with a savage light.

He charged toward the wall, raising his blunt mace and smashing it down.

Leonel didn't raise his hands to block or take any measures to move. In fact, the only reason he was staring down Lamorak wasn't in some act of overly confident display of force while he, himself was in a sorry situation.

Leonel was only human. No matter how much he willed it, it was impossible to ignore a momentary spike in pain as though he was made of iron. His only choice was to pause his circulation of [Dimensional Cleanse] right before Lamorak hit him. Only like this could he ensure he didn't suffer any backlash. However, without Internal Sight, he could only rely on his eyes to monitor Lamorak's movements.

He had no choice but to do this even if Lamorak saw it as a form of defiance.

Unfortunately, that was exactly how Lamorak saw it. Every time he put his everything into a strike, he would find Leonel's gaze looking back at him as though nothing had happened.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The bones and flesh across Leonel's body shattered, splintered and bled. If it wasn't because he reached the Standard State, allowing his current body to match the Weak State when his Runes were activated, he would have long since been beaten into a meat patty.

Leonel was truly barely holding on. Being forced to pause his technique at the instant Lamorak hit him only made everything worse. An already slow process only became slower.

His two Stars were slowly picking up speed, but with the pain racking his body, it felt to Leonel as though the time would never come.

Lamorak's gaze was completely bloodshot.

He reached forward, picking up Leonel by his throat. His arm bulged, slowly squeezing the life out of Leonel.

Even as his face turned red, Leonel continued to stare at Lamorak. From this close, Lamorak felt as though a winter storm was brewing around him, causing goosebumps to run up his tanned skin.

Leonel couldn't have been in a sorrier state. His limbs were bent into awkward angles, his chest had bloomed into an open cavity of shattered bone and organs as though a crimson rose, and his blood dropped to the floor like a savage rain.

He had never been in such pain in his life. What held him together wasn't a deep sense of pride or responsibility, but simply the will to live. The shame of giving up on his own life still weighed heavily on his soul. Whether consciously or subconsciously, he refused to feel that same shame again.

Yet… his gaze made Lamorak feel as though he was the one suffering such severe wounds.

Maybe the only good things about Lamorak's crazed gaze was that he didn't have the presence of mind to turn any of his rage toward the little mink Leonel had tossed away to a far off corner.