Dimensional Descent

Jac's expression solidified, a coldness rarely seen on him manifesting.

His gaze leaving Leonel, he slowly slid on a pair of white Crafter Gloves, diligently ensuring that each of his fingers reached the very tip before strapping it around his wrist tightly.

With a clap of his hands, a Crafter table appeared before him. Its size was about the same as Leonel's. However, the materials it was constructed of were easily seen through by Leonel whereas he was unable to replicate that same feat with his own.

Leonel was aware that a Crafter's Workbench should be as inseparable from hinself as his Crafter Gloves, Force Art Quill, and his Familiar. But, to this point, at least while following his father's training regimine, Leonel hadn't had to rely heavily on his Workbench. At the moment, it was just a convenient place for him to sit at.

For the current Leonel, whether he had a table to sit at or if he was Crafting mid-air, he could do both just as efficiently and without a single issue.

Working at his own pace without a care in the world, Jac carefully wiped down his Workbench, cleaning every nook and cranny as though he was trying to please a lover. Despite this, his expression only seemed to be growing colder, his hands grew more steady and unhurried. Eventually, he reached a state where he seemed to forget all that there was.

Leonel silently observed, displaying at least this modicum of etiquette. When it came to other matters of the Dimensional Verse, he might have been clueless about a lot of things. But, when it came to Force Crafting, there was rarely if anything he could come across without understanding.

This sort of ritual might have seemed useless, but almost every Force Crafter had one. It helped them to settle their minds and center their focus. Those that completed this meditation ritual would always perform better than they otherwise would.

Leonel's father had suggested he get himself such a ritual, formally known as a Crafter's Meditation, to help himself as well. But, Leonel had never bothered. When it came to losing himself and becoming absolutely focused, there was likely no one better at it than Leonel.

Still, Leonel found it to be oddly therapeutic watching Jac like this and his tone of seriousness was raised another notch.

For a man who thought so little of Leonel, for him to still go so far as to complete his Meditation so seriously… It could only be said that Beinala, despite being a vile man, at least took his Crafting as a matter close to his heart.

Jac slapped his hands together in a sudden and abrupt movement.

In that moment, a flurry of flames shot from out of his palms, dancing about in small spheres of fire like miniature spirits.

Leonel's eyes lit up when he saw this, a gentle smile spreading across his face. This was the very first spirit he had ever seen aside from Little Tolly…

No, this wasn't a true spirit, it was a Spirit Embryo. Spirit Embryos were much more common than true spirits and could be considered to be the second best choice for those that couldn't afford true spirits.

Spirit Embryos essentially gave a Crafter all the same freedom a true spirit did, but with a few limitations.

For one, a True Spirit could grow indefinitely, but a Spirit Embryo had a very stringent ceiling. Secondly, True Spirits had intelligence and life while Spirit Embryos did not. And, finally, True Spirits were much more fluid in their usage whereas Spirit Embryos were more difficult to control and guide.

A later training regiment Leonel's dad suggested was using a Spirit Embryos should his Crafting ever reach a bottleneck. The increased difficulty would give him more room to improve within his realm.

Leonel couldn't help but be fascinated. In fact, so was Little Tolly who peeked out from his wrist. If Jac hadn't been so focused on his craft, he would have definitely been shocked out of his wits seeing a True Spirit. However, by now, he had already blocked out all distractions.

'I guess its time we start, hm? Little Tolly?'

*Blop* *Bloop*

…

"What did you say?"

"I heard that Leonel challenged Elder Beinala to a duel amongst Crafters. There's already a large crowd gathering around BLACKSTAR and it seemed like Elder Beinala is going all out."

Sael listened to the voice through the intercom of her training room, her expression flickering.

Ever since she was defeated by Aphestus, she realized just how much she was lacking. She had spent so much time worrying about trying to keep Valiant Heart together that she neglected her own strength. Ultimately, it ended up being her own weakness that led to the downfall of Valiant Heart.

The words Leonel had spoken that day continuously rang in her mind like two hammers smashing continuously against her skull and pulling at the strings of her heart.

They were truly quite pathetic, were they not? They wanted Leonel's help, but were too cowardly to ask for it. They wanted to keep the status quo but weren't brave enough to fight for it. They wanted Valiant Heart to survive into the future, but they were actively allowing it to rot right before their eyes…

Sael realized after all of this introspection that she didn't even hate Raylion as much as she should. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact he slandered her master and dragged his name through the mud, she might not hate him at all.

Unlike her, he was willing to do something, to fight for something. Even if the end goal was to fulfill his own ambition, ultimately, his ambition was to rule over Valiant Heart. Would he want to take on a crumbling faction? Of course not.

In his own way, Raylion was trying to force Valiant Heart to rise up again, just like she was. It was just that while she was passive, he was willing to fight.

For Sael, this was a complete shift in her mentality. It was also why even after awaking from her injuries, she never went to seek out Leonel.

Still, now suddenly hearing about all of this, Sael was suddenly left feeling somewhat expectant.

If there was anything that represented the old order of Valiant Heart, it was most definitely Beinala. He hoarded so many resources and so much knowledge for himself, working the students under him to the bone even if they had talent. He was the product of a system that was fundamentally rotting from the inside out.

Then there was Leonel. He always seemed to tip toe the line of rule breaker and law abiding student, testing the limits as he pleased without a worry in the world. He was the budding talent of their Valiant Heart, trying to push through the oppressive rule of those who got here before him.

Sael felt like… She couldn't miss this.

She rushed to a corner of her training room, turning on a blisteringly cold shower head and getting rid of every ounce of sweat on her lovely body. The tattoos that covered her faded back to fair, delicate skin, her wet hair clinging to the curve of her breasts.

Not long later, she shot out of the training room in her uniform, her hair still dripping wet. Without a word, she grabbed onto Gersan's wrist and shot out.

"Let's go! History's being made."

Gersan couldn't hope to resist against this senior sister of his and could only be dragged along.

…

The crowd grew larger and larger, yet the silence seemed to only become more deafening. Many present couldn't even understand the intricacies of Crafting and Craftsmen. Yet, for some reason, they all held their breaths.

In a distance restaurant, in a glass walled room tall enough to see BLACKSTAR from its vantage point, a familiar young man sat.

Before him, a massive plate of over a meter in length and at least half that in width sat. Despite being so large, though, the meat that sat on it still hung off its side, dripping aromatic juices.

All signs pointed toward this young man being barbarian of sorts, but he was the exact opposite.

He had a plain looking, but cleanly shaven face. He wasn't very tall, being only about 5'8" if he stood from his position. And, he was quite normal in stature, neither being too lean nor too fat.

He dug into the carcass of meat before him not with ferocity, but with a noble air. It seemed almost odd having such a large piece of meat being eaten with fork and knife as though a normal steak.

The young man turned his gaze toward the projection in the distance from time to time, a contemplative look deep within his eye.

Who else could this young man be if not The Hero… Raylion?

…

On the ground floor beneath BLACKSTAR, yet another group stood. This one was of two more familiar figures, Henorin and the busty Balthorn.

Somehow, despite the fact all the others had been arrested a few days ago after exiting the tunnels along with Hallis, these two stood here just fine.

Balthorn sighed. 'Why'd you have to choose big brother's shop of all of them?'