[Bonus chapter courtesy of Mr. Mostert <3 3/6]

Leonel continued to sit there, staring into space. He didn't really feel depressed; he just felt a bit empty. And then, the anxiety came.

What was he doing? Facing off against Ninth Dimensional experts like he was on the same playing field as them? Was he insane?

These weren't even normal Ninth Dimensional experts either; these were Ninth Dimensional experts that could take someone like Clarence and turn him into a prop-up toy to be skewered and humiliated before the masses.

The moment Leonel had this thought, he felt disgust. This wasn't him. But why did the lines feel so blurred?

The immediate assumption was that his Dream Force was turning him into someone he was not, but this was clearly not the case. He wanted to be confident; he wanted to face off against enemies who scorned him and make them eat their words. That sort of anxiety wasn't something he would have normally.

Even when the influence of his future self was muted, and he had yet to enter the Dimensional Verse, he had always been the same. He hated to lose; he was willing to suffer for a victory, and he hated the idea of others controlling him.

He didn't even necessarily hate football back then; he loved the sport, even if he might have lied to himself and others in saying that he didn't.

He loved the control it gave him, that feeling of combat and war...

He suddenly remembered the first time he had stepped onto a real battlefield, back in the Camelot Zone. He had felt his blood boiling and the excitement spilled over into his actions. He had rushed headfirst into that army of Demons as though they weren't fantastical creatures he had never laid eyes on before.

He had loved every second of it.

That was true... that was another aspect of himself... he loved battle...

No, what he loved was competition. The more thrilling it was, the better.Maybe that was also why he carelessly threw his life around back then, to the point that his future wife had had enough of him.

It was clear that though he was someone with feelings, it wasn't to the point he'd have a bleeding heart for strangers.

No, he just loved it. He loved being thrust into unbeatable odds and then inevitably coming out on top.

He was an adrenaline junky.

It made sense, but he had somewhat shot himself in the foot. He loved the adrenaline, but if he was always calm, where was the adrenaline coming from?

So he continuously did things that could only be considered stupid and more stupid, throwing himself at enemies he couldn't hope to defeat in the hopes that one of them would make him feel something...

They never did.

A grin spread across Leonel's face. He was staring into space, and yet a wild, shit-eating grin was on his face.

It was interesting. If he was never aware of his future self, would he have ever gone down this line of thought? If he wasn't so obsessed with not repeating those mistakes, could he have?

The answer was obviously no. And why would he? His mind was filled with confidence in who he was and what his path was; why would he second guess it? Maybe the only person that could have corrected his path somewhat was his father, but he had already long since passed away.lights

Then there was that other man, the man he had only called master in his final breath. But if it took him so long to acknowledge him, could it have shaken him free of that path?

The Leonel of today wasn't aware of the story between Wise Star Order and his future self, but what he did know was that he had a streak of completely ignoring his mentors aside from his father.

When Old Hutch told him about how he should use his spear, he completely brushed it off. It wasn't until years later that he took bits and pieces of those teachings and finally gave his spear a life of its own. But how long had that taken him?

Something like his Dream Force was even more unruly to outside change...

Unless he wanted to change himself.

The crown above his head vanished, and the robes that had adorned him likewise faded into wisps of smoke.

It was likely that by now, those watching were madly cackling at his misfortune, but Leonel didn't seem to notice at all, his mind focused on other things.historical

He no longer felt calm; his heart was racing, and his skin was slightly flushed. His mind was filled with thoughts of the Owlans, how powerful they were, how difficult the coming battle would be, how unprepared he was...

Hints of red began to appear in his irises as he continued to stare forward.

He basked in that feeling of anxiety, of sweaty palms, of an agitation deep within him.

He felt that potential hidden so deeply within his body was being pulled out one after another, potential that even his Control Ability Index hadn't been able to sense before.

And why would it? It was fueled by his Dream Force, and it felt that he had everything in hand, so why even bother?

He didn't just want his Dream Force to be based on confidence and tranquility. Peace wouldn't give him the pressure he needed to improve.

He had almost died at the hands of that shield, and yet other than a slight skip of his heart, he never really felt the weight of it, as though he had already had everything in hand...

But he knew the truth. That had never been the case; so many things were out of his control...

And he wanted to feel that.

He didn't need confidence; he needed bravery; he needed...

Respect and Persistence.

The images of his father's face made Leonel's eyes involuntarily water, the agitation in his heart growing.

He needed to Respect his enemies.

He needed the Persistence to drive his spear through them anyway.

The world suddenly lost its color.