Dimensional Descent

The feeling of Force coursing through your body was hard to describe. If Leonel were to try, it would be like landing on a bed of soft pillows, or walking through a mist of water on a hot summer's day. It didn't just feel good, it felt right. As though this was the true state of being.

Leonel didn't know why his stamina had shot upward while Aina's tanked, but he didn't have the time to think about it. In fact, if he thought about it for even a little while, he would realize that because his coordination shot upward, he could more efficiently make use of his abilities, allowing him to use less strength to accomplish the same result.

Though Leonel's strength and speed remained untouched, his combat prowess was on a completely different level. The movements of the Englishmen were almost painfully slow.

His spear snaked through the air like a viper, piercing throats and severing spines with every stroke. It was the most humane way Leonel could think to end their lives.

Something about wielding a spear felt different from his rod. Leonel had chosen the rod due to his lack of battle experience. He thought he'd have an easier time with a longer ranged weapon.

However, with the spear, despite the fact it was obvious he had no real experience with it, he felt free. Something within his body was churning, waking from a sleep as though it had been waiting for this moment.

[Leonel Morales]

[Strength: 0.85; Speed: 0.80 (+0.1); Agility: 0.99 (+0.1 - nullified); Coordination: 1.10; Stamina: 0.99 (+0.05 - nullified); Reactions: 1.10; Spirit: 0.40]

More of the hidden medicine within Leonel's body diffused, increasing his strength and speed by 0.05. He felt his blood boiling, but it wasn't fatigue. It was excitement.

Leonel forgot his hatred of death, of killing. The awkward coordination in his arm stabilized. Like a child learning to walk, his spear became less reliant on his agility and more on his skill.

He seemed to be walking through the battle, traveling five meters forward with every step, a swath of bodies being left in his wake.

Frenchmen felt numb. Was this the

like a black whip, curling and curving around defenses

could feel her presence getting closer, but also fainter at the same time. Aina was already at the end of her rope.

cutting down another

Leonel knew there was a limit to his strength. His stamina wasn't unlimited. Just walking forward these 50 meters through a swath of Englishmen

weird phenomena was happening to his blood ate into his stamina far quicker than he had been before. Leonel suspected that

'Faster…'

pushing forward with an even faster speed. He began to rely on his ability heavily, reading through who had the weakest ability, cutting them down and using the gap their body

"Aina!"

so heavily on her lips that a dense fog formed whenever she exhaled.

the past, hardly a speck of blood ever touched her. But

her own blood. In fact, she seemed to be completely uninjured.

what's wrong

For

"For our fallen brothers!"

gazes of the Englishmen almost glowed red beneath their helmets. They didn't see Aina as an arbiter of God. To them, she was a demon. A terrible devil descended to their lands. By this point, their resolve in taking down France raised several levels. It was their duty as God fearing men to expel

For our