Dimensional Descent

Chapter 2649 [Bonus] Part Two

[Thanks to Ian <3 (6/6)]

"HAHA! My stage has come!"

A boisterous laughter that should probably come from a War Lord instead of a Crafter echoed.

A young man wearing beast skins kicked a door open with a foot and brought half the house down as a result.

"Talon! You son of a bitch! Didn't I tell you-"

The laughter drowned out the rest of the spiel. Talon couldn't be bothered to listen, his laughter causing what remained of the home to shake on its foundations as though it might collapse at any moment.

Talon was huge. He stood at over two meters tall, had boulders for shoulders and a round belly that seemed made of iron. Despite his round belly, when he breathed, one could see the visible striations of his abs.

His entire body was coated in crimson runes that took the shape of tiger stripes, and every time he roared with laughter, they would greedily suck up the Force in the surroundings.

This young man was a member of the Barbarian Race. They were a Race of beings who couldn't form their own Nodes or Nodal Pathways. In fact, they didn't have an Ethereal Glabella either, and some speculated that they didn't even have souls in the natural sense.

It was hard to guarantee such things because the Barbarian Race wasn't one to experiment. They didn't care about the details. All they knew was that the more they ate and fought, the stronger they got.

And that was indeed how it worked.

The Barbarian Race might not have any Nodes, but that was because all the Force they absorbed went directly into their flesh and blood.

The purest of the Barbarian Race were essentially walking wrecking balls.

If Leonel had been here, he would have been endlessly fascinated by this race... because in effect, they seemed to be large Neutral Force Crystals. If they tweaked their ratios properly...

Wouldn't they be immune to any and all Forces?

And this was precisely why they were a Race of Demi-Gods. Only existences of such strength were worth such a title. And this was also why the largest concentration of Destruction Sovereigns were found in this very Race.

And yet, it was this young man who was excited by the Gathering of Minds.

"I'm going to be the best Crafter in the world!"

"Shut up! You're a Barbarian, dammit!"

"A Barbarian Crafter!"

A flying pot came out from somewhere within the broken house, but it disintegrated the moment it touched the young man's skin.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

**

"I have to go."

"Aerin, this is too dangerous. Our Dwarven Race has had a Dream Pavilion to protect us all this while and we barely managed to survive the culling without it. We can't draw more attention to ourselves."

A young Sparrow of the Dwarven Race stood with his jaw clenched and his expression determined. Despite his small size, he was proportionately lean and powerful.

This was the young prince of the Trapping Earth Bubble, Aerin Solevin.

"Father, this is our only path forward. We survived this culling, but will we survive the next? Our Crafting skill is our best asset, and it's currently what's protecting our lands from the invaders trying to escape their own culling. If we do not improve between now and then, how will we survive?

"We need more knowledge, more experience. We've been stuck in this Bubble for too long, trying to make progress alone because we are too weak to try and rely on anyone or anything else...

"I do not believe that you or that Ancestors are wrong in making this choice. We are, indeed, weak. However, now that we have a chance, a small light of hope to change that, we can't give it up willingly.

"I must go."

Aerin's father fell into silence. He knew that his son was right but... the discrimination the Dwarven Race faced was too great. His son might not make it back for a reason that might be as ridiculous as looking at someone the wrong way. If such a thing happened, he wouldn't even be able to forgive himself.

"Don't worry, father. If I die, just know that I tried my best. I think that will just have to be good enough for us.

"This sort of ignoble existence isn't right for anyone to suffer through... I will fight for something better for me, for all of us."

**

ƈοm

Orion sat in silence. The humiliation of his battle with Aina played in his head again for maybe the fourth time that day already. It had already been a while since that battle, but he thought of that woman every day.

He could tell if it was out of fear or some sick, twisted love fantasy that would never come to fruition.

When he heard about the Gathering of Minds, he didn't even react much, and that was despite the fact he was a rare genius capable of placing well in both events. He didn't even have the heart to go.

He sat in silence for a long while until he suddenly remembered something.

That Leonel Morales... wasn't he a Dream Force user...? Was he a Crafter too, then?

There wasn't a one-to-one relation between the two, but there was a good chance.

Maybe... if he beat that man he could...

'What am I thinking... the Owlan Race is hosting and he offended them thoroughly. What are the odds he'll show up even if he is one? What a waste of my thoughts...'

He reclined in a hammock, ready to continue his lazy streak when he heard footsteps.

Orion cursed. These old bastards were definitely going to make him participate. Where was the justice?

**

Leonel lay in silence, a naked Aina in his arms as he looked through a glass roof toward the starry skies.

In these few days, he hadn't made any progress on the Self Path, but that was mostly because he didn't even try to. He would never allow those people to see his father's core inheritance.

Instead, he had focused most of his intention on fun, a small bit of his mind on the matters of Complexity and Simplicity.

It seemed it would be time to cut loose again soon.

Part one of Plan A had worked out.

It was time for part two.