Dimensional Descent

By this point, Leonel’s Life Force affinity had reached an unprecedented level, at least in comparison to his former self. This allowed him to see through things he hadn’t been able to in the past, and he had even come to understand just where Aina’s “instincts” came from.

Life Force was the core of it all, the root from which the connection to all things was formed.

Leonel wasn’t the kind of person who liked to rely on instincts. He wanted to truly understand something before he could apply it. This was the way he liked to work and it was also part of the reason that he was so powerful now.

While one might say that he could be more powerful if he simply entirely relied on his talent, was this really the case?

If not for his analytical breakdown of calligraphy and poetry, would he have mastered it in as little as a year? If not for his structural understanding of Bow Force and its applications, would it naturally progress so far? If not for his analytical mind, would he be half the Force Crafter he was today?

One might say that it was precisely because of his talent that he was able to progress so far and so quickly in things like Bow Force, but was that true? He didn’t have a Bow Force Lineage Factor, but he definitely did have a Spear Force Lineage Factor, so why was the latter lagging behind the former?

The Bow just worked better with Leonel’s personality and way of viewing things. Certain weapons had their own methods of interacting with the world, some of which Leonel understood, and some he didn’t.

The bow, the sniper rifle, or throwing weapons, were all weapons of skill, patience and calculation.

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The spear, however, wasn’t necessarily like this. In fact, the spear was probably the most primitive weapon in all of existence. From its inception, it was barbaric and unrestrained. This simply wasn’t a weapon that fit well with Leonel’s personality.

As Leonel continued to move in silence, his heart calm and his thoughts flowing like the waters of a gentle stream, he thought back to Old Man Hutch.

Hutch had always wanted Leonel to listen to his weapon, to feel its presence, to let it talk to him…

Leonel had always found these things to be worthless. No matter how obstinate the old man was, he couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t like doing things he couldn’t understand. In fact, that stubbornness even led him to not even asking the dictionary about Spear Force, he didn’t want anything to influence his path forward.

It wasn’t actually quite accurate to say that Leonel didn’t like the idea itself, what he didn’t like was the lack of logic behind it.

If there was logic behind the training method that required him to run around a city naked, Leonel might think about doing it. It wasn’t the actual process that was the problem, it was the lack of reason behind it.

These were weapons. They didn’t have hearts and souls, nor did they have consciousnesses of their own. Talking aobut “listening” to them was asinine.

However, this felt different.

What Leonel was “listening” to right now wasn’t the weapon, he was “listening” to its resonance with his Life Force. How it interacted, how they fused, how they repelled one another.

The so-called “life” of a weapon didn’t come from the weapon itself, it always came from the wielder. This was why Leonel could say a word like “Die” and yet have it wield so much more power than a poetry verse a hundred times more complicated.

This was the true root of calligraphy and poetry, and for that matter, it was the true root of music and painting as well.

Leonel’s spear swished through the air.

Golden streams of Spear Force flourished, the delicate sounds of chimes ringing. However, astonishingly enough, if one closed their eyes and Internal Sight off to Leonel’s existence, this delicate music would vanish.

The instant one focused on Leonel once more, though, the music would return, its gentle cadence soothing the heart and soul.

The melody changed and it became voluminous and oppressive. Just observing one would feel as though they had been trapped in a maelstrom, every pierce, every sweep and every chop feeling like another piece of their life had been severed away.

But then everything changed once more.

Leonel’s Absolute Domain faded, the swishing sounds of sharpening blades fading into the background and a gorgeous scene was painted by them instead, delicate flecks of golden Spear Force dancing through the air, adding to the beauty with every stroke.

Leonel switched between countless stances. Each and every one painted a new picture and exuded a different kind of aura.

Towering mountain made his spear towering and heavy. Streams of rivers made his spear swift and winding. Starry skies made his spear vast and endless, its blade capable of reaching any point with just a single pierce.

But even these images began to slowly fade.

As time passed, the melodies became quiet, lacking even the whistling of the wind.

Soon after it, the vast images created by strokes of golden Spear Force also vanished, shrinking further and further until there was nothing left but the slightest radiance of a white-gold spear.

Everything became deathly silent but Leonel’s movements had never stopped and his eyes had never opened.

After a certain point, he couldn’t even feel the grass beneath his feet or the wind against his body. He felt as though he was gliding through a voice, the only feeling he could experience being the weight of the spear in his hand, he couldn’t even feel the special characteristics of the spear in question.

It was as though everything had faded but the embodiment of a spear… Not the spear or a particular spear, but just a spear, an amorphous construct without form or presence.

And eventually, even the weight of that spear vanished.

In the real world, the white-gold spear in Leonel’s hand seamlessly vanished to be replaced by a jet black rod, radiating a dense black fog.

And then, Leonel pierced forward.

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