Dimensional Descent

Chapter 813: 815 Residual


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Leonel almost immediately fell to the ground nearly as fast as he had soared, but for some reason to those below, it felt as though he had flown. The image was ingrained into their minds, searing the presence of an existence that would be molded into their very psyches.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Leonel's Chain Domain appeared again as his palm flipped over. A cascade of illusory and real chains manifested, crisscrossing the room in a sea of endless blackness.

The instant Leonel touched the floor, he shot forward.

The Fifth Dimension? It was a level far beyond him. Even after pushing his Metal Body from Tier 4 to Tier 9, the change wasn't as drastic as he hoped.

Though his body was indeed stronger than it had been in the past, the chain of his true Dimension was like rock sinking him further and further. This weight only became heavier the more he progressed in his mind and body to the point it was suffocating him.

However, Leonel had already decided that the moment he escaped his planet, his destination would be wherever the map Uncle Montez had given him pointed out. It was high time he stepped out from the Third Dimension.

Leonel didn't swing his spear even a single time.

He weaved in and out of a barrage of attacks, his mind seeing through ten, twenty, thirty steps ahead even in the face of so many Fifth Dimensional experts.

This was a completely different situation than the one he had faced with Alexandre. He didn't need to defeat these people. He didn't have to protect anyone. His only obligation was to reach his target destination and keep himself safe. Nothing more, nothing less.

Even the little mink on his head had long since entered his incorporeal form. Even if they wanted to target Little Blackstar, their attacks would just pass right through.

Leonel's chains whipped out.

Sometimes they would appear at an enemy's feet, slowing their forward progress. Sometimes they would appear beneath or before their swinging arms, delaying their attacks. And sometimes they would even appear in Leonel's path, being footholds for him to flip through and change direction in the air.

One would have through that they were experiencing some sort of circus act. A room of almost a hundred Fifth Dimensional existences, yet none of them could seem to stop a single brat.

Leonel had long since realized that most abilities were only useful when you only had to worry about yourself. The larger of a group you were in, the less likely you would be to use your own.

This wasn't only because an ability was often a trump card to change the tides of battle, but also because it was too difficult to ensure the avoidance of friendly fire. Unless of course… You didn't care about it at all.

"Get the hell out of my way!"

A roar suddenly came from a man who was fed up. Leonel had already crossed halfway through the lobby area in what felt like an instant. To say that it was an embarrassment was an understatement.

This sort of stain wasn't one any of them were willing to take on.

Leonel felt a violent Force lock onto him.

Black flames rose toward the ceiling, wreaking havoc everywhere it touched.

Many who surrounded the man scattered, their expressions warping as though they were looking at a madman.

A wide beam of fire shot toward Leonel, carrying a heat that could melt mountains. Even furniture and art pieces tens of meters away erupted into their own blaze, becoming sparkling piles of ash.

Normally, Leonel wouldn't be afraid of fire, and even now, he wasn't. But the issue with this attack wasn't in the flame, but rather the force behind it. Even if he could survive the flame, he would still be tossed back by its forward momentum.

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Not only would that harm him, but it would also undo all his progress not to mention make any further advancement almost impossible.

Yet, even if the face of such a devastating attack, Leonel's gaze remained placid, his steps not even slowing.

"Die!"

Leonel vanished into the sea of black.

A scorching mark shot through the lobby region, even blasting a hole into the staircase Leonel had come from before being stone walled by the outer barriers of the pillar.

"Marcus! What the hell are you doing?!"

"Shut the hell up! You think I want a brat slipping away right from under out noses to be on my resume!? Over my dead body!

"Go pick up his corpse and thank me later, son of a bitch!"

There weren't a small number of people enraged by Marcus' course of action. They weren't even guards, they were just miners who had come here to make a profit but were suddenly tasked with this. This was the main reason they hadn't used their abilities, they weren't even familiar with working with each other like this.

However, they still felt this was better than nothing. At least it was over.

"Did you burn him to ash?" Someone asked in confusion.

"Ha, what the hell did you expect? A Third Dimensional brat, how could he possibly handle my flames?"

The group mostly nodded to this. As long as things were done, that was fine. As for the damage, that would be the Milky Way Guild's problem, not theirs. They were just contracted workers.

At that moment though, the whirring of a teleportation formation caught them off guard.

One of the miner's face warped.

"There's residual spatial qi in the air! He used your fire as cover to teleport!"

Marcus' expression became quite colorful. He couldn't understand it. If the brat could teleport, why not just do it before? Why did he need to use his flames? It felt almost like he had been targeted for embarrassment by Leonel.

The group sprinted out of the lobby, shooting for the teleportation formation they were certain should have already been shut down. But, they were only in time to find Leonel vanishing, the blaring sounds of the alarms ringing in their ears.



In a familiar room of endless glass monitors, an older gentlemen with a beard as long and white as his hair sat with one leg crossed over another. He watched this scene in silence, a cup of tea being held between his palm and the hook of his fingers.

Before him, a kneeling Havoc lay, trembling from head to toe, not speaking a single word.

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