A spiraling aura took shape around Leonel's cracked blade. His heart thumped and his body's aura soared to pierce the skies.
The pressure of the mountain on his back seemed to descend into the world itself.
Staring at him, one could tell that there was absolutely nothing that would make him lower his spear, nothing that would impact his will, nothing that would dull the blade hidden in his heart.
His body might have seemed to have lost all life, his Force didn't seem to respond to him, and his flesh itself had practically begun to atrophy, but the light in his eyes…
That hadn't dimmed in the slightest and seemed to have no intention of doing so.
Come.
That was the one word it seemed to roar at the top of its lungs.
And then Leonel moved.
His spear danced through the skies, carving what looked like a simple arc but actually targeted both Sylvan and Pluto at the same time.