Dimensional Descent

The battlefield was the ocean's surface. Warriors swept across, brandishing their weapons as best they could without proper footholds. It was clear that it was much more difficult to use the water's surface as an anchor point than it would have been real ground.

Blood flew, coloring the deep blue waters a grotesque shade of purple. But, just as quickly as these pockets of color formed, they were washed away, blending into the deep liquid body as though nothing had happened.

"Are these the so-called talents of Earth? Is this supposed to be a joke?"

Reynred Solar's expression was plastered with a sneer. After he had learned that Aina, a woman he had lost to, was an Eartherner, he had already had some pent up dissatisfaction when it came to people of this world.

No matter how talented Earth was, in their eyes, it was nothing but an upstart. How could it compare to their thousands of years of heritage?

Did they have Styles? Did they have Force Techniques of their own passed down by their ancestors? Did they even have their society built back to what it once was before the Metamorphosis?

At this point, Earth was nothing but a child having lost the backing of its parents. There were no Higher Dimensional worlds coming to coddle and hold them any longer. They were on their own right now, yet they were supposedly better than them?

Since when had the Dimensional Verse become such a joke?!

Jilniya's look of disdain was no less. On the ocean's surface, her Falls Style was even stronger than it would be otherwise. Her every palm seemed to be able to reap another life, even if said life was over a dozen meters away. This battlefield had practically become a one sided slaughter.

"The only issue with this is that if matters are really so easy, what are the odds the Cities appreciate this favor of ours?" Jilniya said offhandedly, reaping another life.

Reynred's sneer deepened.

"Who cares what they think at this point? We're already here, aren't we? Since when have we feared what the Cities think? Do we even need their opinion? At worst, we'll just share this new world with them just like we shared Terrain previously."

While the two spoke, Wilas stood the side silently, scanning the battlefield with a hint of caution in his eye. As the one with the one with the strongest sensory abilities among them, he could tell that these matters weren't so simple. There definitely seemed to be something wrong with the warriors of Earth, but he wasn't sure what it was.

'Is this the trump card of the Cities?... If that's the case, what's to stop them from using it against us'¦?'

Jilniya, still sporting a look of disdain, sent a glance toward Wilas. An ambiguous light flashed within her gaze, but she didn't say anything as she looked toward her distant father.

Head Falls seemed to understand what his daughter was trying to convey, but his calm smile revealed nothing else. It was clear that he wasn't very worried at all'¦

'¦

Hutch looked over the battlefield with a frown, a sharp aura twirling around him.

As a warrior with so much experience, he was the most aware when there was something wrong with his body. And, at this moment, there was most definitely something wrong.

Yet, not only could he not seem to do anything about it, he wasn't even aware of what the main issue was to begin with. He found it completely baffling even with his years of life.

'So'¦ This is the true Dimensional Verse'¦'

Hutch smiled bitterly, looking up at the sky to give his eyes a break from the carnage happening before him. He seemed to be the oldest he had been in a very long time, his wrinkles becoming far deeper and his eyes becoming more sunken.

As old as he was, Hutch had never gotten a true taste of the vast universe before. He lamented that he was born too early, that his blade wouldn't get to taste the blood of worlds yet unseen.

However, he was lucky enough that this old body of his managed to hold on to the end, to make it here. Now, he had a chance to live for longer, to live out those fanciful dreams he had had as a child.

Unfortunately, reality was cruel.

Who would have known that in one moment, he would be speaking of the valiant Slayer Legion and in the next'¦ He would be watching his warriors die, one after another.

There were no fanciful dreams to be found on this battlefield, no childhood fantasies, nothing that could bring a smile to his face. If Hutch's enemies knew that he was having such thoughts, they might very well be stunned to early deaths.

This was Hacker Hutch, a man who should have long since became used to the cruelty of the battlefield. For a person like him, being shocked by blood and gore shouldn't have been possible, let alone being hurt by it.

But'¦ This was very much different. The change was too abrupt.

It felt as though what he had been looking for was right in the palm of his hands, only for it to be snatched before he could even think of making use of it.

Hutch looked down at the blade in his hand. As the acting commander, it had yet to taste a thing from this battlefield. It remained silent, its bloodthirst restrained from the senses of those around it, the pitiful wails of Hutch's soul seemingly trapped within.

'I guess there's not much of a choice remaining. It's either we go all out, or we all die here.'

Hutch brandished his machete. With a single step forward, the waters beneath him rippled outward before becoming still beyond compare. None of the battle around him seemed capable of affecting his territory in the slightest.

He was Hacker Hutch.. If death was waiting for him, he'd be the first to say hello.