Dimensional Descent-Novel

The blaring sound of a horn tore across the skies.

The perfect formation of predator birds was instantly shaken. Their riders, which had spent years learning how to tame these wild beasts, were suddenly at a loss. It felt as though they were riding bucking bulls.

White Knight Diore's gaze sharpened. Despite the while reaction of his predatory bird was equally as wild, his feet remained attached as though they had been sown together.

'This noise.'

Khaled locked onto a particular direction. Even though his eyes saw nothing in that spot, he trusted his senses. There was most definitely an enemy right there.

Leonel felt the White Knight's aura lock onto him. The feeling was like being gripped by the hands of death.

He knew from the very beginning that [Light Refraction] wasn't infallible. But, it only made it worse now that he was funneling the abilities of this horn right toward the flock of birds. Even if the sight of him didn't give him away, the direction in which the blaring horn was coming from most definitely did.

But, Leonel didn't stop blowing. From behind his [Light Refraction] spell, he locked eyes with Khaled, his blood boiling.

The White Knight stomped down hard on his predator bird, sending a violent shock through its body and waking it up.

By now, the perfect formation had devolved into a wild flock of birds flying in every which direction. In fact, out of their control, many on the backs of these predator birds fell from their backs.

Without a choice, they pulled out an inconspicuous short pole from their harnesses. With a few clicks, they became gliders.

Watching so many fall from the skies, Leonel sighed a breath of relief, thinking they would have no choice but to return to White City. But, to his astonishment, as though they were assigned a life and death mission, these gliders continued forward toward their original destinations, not gazing back toward White City even once.

Leonel's heart froze over. This was the first time he truly felt the resolve of these warriors.

'Dammit.'

Leonel put his horn away and pulled out his black bow and slipped on his bowman gloves.

It was a palpable pressure, it was the kind Leonel hadn't felt before. In all his life, he had never faced such dauntless, fearless warriors.

The demons loved war, but they still feared death. They still stormed the battlefields, but they weren't a single unit, forged together by blood and sweat.

These warriors were different, though.

It was impossible for them to have guessed that someone would be able to disrupt their plan before it even truly began. Yet, they reacted as though it didn't matter.

Despite the fact they hadn't sensed Leonel's location like their captain had, they still traveled toward him dauntlessly, not a single one of them cowering in fear.

Leonel felt like he was back on those French battlefields, facing those mortal men who threw their life away to protect their country in the face of an enemy they knew was impossible to defeat. It was on that battlefield Leonel gained respect for bravery and death…

Leonel nocked his first arrow, his aura surging.

'Little Blackstar.'

The little mink popped into existence out of a spinning black vortex, landing atop Leonel's head as though he had never left.

Leonel's body was coated in a thin film of dancing shadows, his goldish bronze hair dancing wildly beneath his towering Force.

Crackling lightning, sharpening winds, dancing shadows that sounded like blades gliding across his arrow…

Leonel took a deep breath and released his fingers on his exhale. As though his bow was a living entity extending from his own body, it followed his will, drawing a line from his eyes to his target.

PCHU!

Without ability to dodge, the first glider was pierced through the skull, but the others continued flying forward as though they hadn't sensed a thing.

Leonel brought out a second arrow and fired again. Then a third. Then a fourth.

In the blink of an eye, he had already sent out over a dozen arrows and reaped a dozen lives.

However, he could see it all clearly. His senses were impossibly sharp, how could he miss it?

Not a single one who lived flinched, not a single one thought of turning back, not a single one cowered.

There were simply too many. There had only been around 500 predator birds, but each had two riders, making the gliders in the sky total over a thousand.

Against a normal army, killing so many without giving them ability to retaliate would have caused them to stagger and run. But, this army didn't seem to function by normal standards.

And how could they? This wasn't a land they had come to conquer for mere wealth, this was about their lives, their future. To their backs wasn't a mere city, it was one filled with their family, their friends, those they had to protect.

This wasn't a normal invading army and the White Troops of White City weren't a normal group of men and women.

Leonel clenched his jaw.

These were all Fourth Dimensional warriors. The only reason he could killed them was because in their current positions, they had no ability to fight back. But, if he didn't put all of his strength into one arrow, he knew it would still be impossible to kill them even in this situation.

He simply didn't have any large area of effect spells he could use to deal with them all at once. And, even if he did, he wouldn't have enough Spirit Pressure to easily affect such a large area without all but killing himself.

As though the situation wasn't bad enough already, it only got worse in the next instant.

White Knight Diore had locked onto Leonel's general location long ago. Yet, despite knowing his men were dying one after another, he still hadn't made a move against Leonel… And the reason for this soon became clear…

"Quell your rage."

A booming voice shocked the wild flock of predator birds.

Leonel's heart trembled.

The birds…

It seemed that White Knight Diore wasn't designated as the head of this aerial squad without reason.

The disordered, wild flock of predator birds suddenly regained their purpose, their crimson eyes all locking onto a certain direction.

Leonel's blood ran cold.