Dimensional Descent-Novel

Chapter 2272 No?

Locke's hand missed, swinging at the air. He was inwardly stunned, so much so that he opened his eyes. His sword had always been there, it was the one thing that never failed him, and even with access to all the spatial treasures he could ever hope to use in a single lifetime, he still chose to hang it by his waist. He was so used to this sword that he could find it blindfolded in the depths of a blackhole if he had to, so how could he have...

The sword wasn't there. Locke's eyes snapped open and he looked at his waist. It was all gone, his trusted sword wasn't there.

The blade of that sword had changed over the years, but the hilt was always the exact same. He asked every swordsmith he had ever worked with to transfer it over. It was the blade hilt his father had passed down to him, and a blade hilt his grandfather had passed on to his father before him.

This was tradition of most of the Suiard. They didn't believe in keeping the same blade all your life, that wasn't being a swordsman, that was being stupid. No one could deny the strength of a weapon and how much it aided your combat prowess. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that this sword hilt was as important as his entire lineage to him.

The only reason why he had even brought it when he expected to die was one, because it gave him courage, and two because he believed that the protective measures Micarth had with him would allow him to bring the sword out. But now...

Locke looked up to find that the sword was in Leonel's hands, being lightly swung with a grace he didn't think should have been possible for a spear master, and that Leonel was. There was no denying that his spearmanship had surpassed even more of the elder generation, but the sword didn't look out of place in his hands at all.

"I've always found swords to be interesting. If it wasn't for the fact the weapon of a man I killed when the Metamorphosis first descended upon Earth was a spear, I might have actually picked up a sword first. Though..." Leonel swung the sword again. "... Maybe not, I was also quite a prudent and calculated fighter back then, I would have probably concluded that a layman like myself would do better with a longer stick. Better chance of not dying, and all."

Leonel looked up with a smile. The sword rang and the echo of Sword Force manifested with almost too much ease. It was sharp and powerful, though silvery white unlike his Spear Force and his Bow Force. However... It was Seventh Dimensional.

"That's the kind of person I am," Leonel continued. "I like to be prudent, cautious, I like to calculate out every step, and while that wasn't the case in the past, I no longer hesitate to kill. I find that doing so is a waste of my effort, trying to figure out the worth of a life, who deserves to live, who deserves to die... it's all very tiresome.

"And not to be rude, but if I can't figure it out, all of you most certainly can't. Your plan is filled with far too many loopholes.

"Send the bushy-eyed youth forward first, let him stumble. Then "attempt" a save with a person you were quite certain I'd never let speak, before you follow through with your real plan. And it's even better for the Suiard, isn't it? After all, it would be your real representation and not this pseudo representative doing the speaking, right?

"And then what? You would use the rage I showed as an excuse to attack? Maybe if try to rope me and my Morales family in with the demons like you did the Silver Empire and find an excuse for Shield Cross Stars and the Void Palace to act too, is that it?"

The silence was palpable, but Leonel didn't seem to need to bounce his ideas off of anyone.

"At the same time, you'd have something to tell the masses. Hero Velasco was just a joke of a man who experimented with what he shouldn't and brought down upon himself the ire of the gods. The Spirituals and the other races weren't attacking the Human Domain at all, rather they were just doing their best to stop Velasco from bringing down the wrath of the gods upon you all, right?

"They weren't cowardly scum at all, in fact they were trying to save everyone! And the cherry on top was that maybe if "Hero" Velasco had shared his research, and spread the truth of how he had grown so powerful so quickly, and how his wife and son seemed to do the exact same, then none of this would have ever happened.

"Everyone could have resisted the gods together and rather than striking down Hero Velasco, you could have worked together to fight against the oppression and lead the Human Domain to a brighter future."

Leonel tapped the sword with his other hand, running his finger along its blade toward its hilt. With every inch that he passed, the blade crumbled. It looked as though it was being burnt to ash, and yet there was no heat in the air at all... it was like Leonel had simply commanded it to crumble, and it heeded.

Locke's chest constricted as his treasured sword was suddenly left with nothing more than its hilt. Leonel spun it in his hands, letting it land on the tip of his finger as it continued to spin.

"Is that all about right? It's a pretty stupid scheme if you ask me, it lacks any sort of cleverness or flair, it relies entirely on the ignorance of the people to the truth of the situation, and even relies on your own ignorance as well- not that you care very much to correct whatever those misconceptions were."

Leonel caught the hilt in the air and his smile vanished. He didn't do anything, but those messengers that were present suddenly wanted to fall to their knees and plead for mercy, the weight on their souls nearly crushing them.

"You've all miscalculated, though, unfortunately. You can all return, I think the purpose of this meeting is over. When you go back, tell your people that the Morales will be coming, to clear the name of both their Hero, and the stain you tried to place upon us." New chapters are publɪshed on N(o)vᴇl(ꜰ)ire.nᴇt

Leonel crushed the hilt in his hands, letting it burn to ash.

Leonel's smile returned as he looked toward Locke. He didn't speak, but a voice echoed in Locke's hands. 'Kill you? You value yourself too much. I would much rather kill whoever told you to speak those words. It would be much more interesting if you were alive to see your treasured Suiard family burned to the ground, no?'