The atmosphere grew silent. Syl seemed to realize that something was wrong when she saw her brother and Leonel staring down one another. But, any words she wanted to speak seemed completely caught in her throat. She felt that she couldn't form the things she wanted to say no matter how hard tried.
SHING! SHING! SHING!
The sword to the Young Heir's back continued to tremble. Some unknown force held it back from unsheathing.
Leonel continued to silently watch, sizing up the young man in white before him.
Leonel knew too little about the Fourth Dimension to accurately gauge strength. But, he could sense pressure easier than maybe anyone else. Even though this Young Heir was weaker than Uncle Zimo, considering his youth, Leonel had no doubt that there would come a day when Zimo was completely overshadowed.
