Brent Stinebaker
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II-99 The Last of Her Lein (II)
🕑 Added 2025-05-09 11:37:14 +0000 UTCLein. A real fucking monster, that one. I’ve seen her break entire armies in the Base—she would do this thing where she would find the champion among her enemies and just take it to them bad and rough. Take them apart and butcher them like prey. And as she would make it last. She would go to work on the death, make it painful and hopeless, shatter their pride before she finished with the flesh.
And she wouldn’t enjoy any of it. It was like breathing for her. Just another thing to do, another kill in a long day of murder. And that’s probably why she doesn’t fully cross over into Wrath. Because she doesn’t actually care about the violence. She’s good at it. It’s something that she likes. But what she truly wants? What she truly enjoys? Dominance. The power to place her boot on something and someone. The power to command armies.
That’s probably why it surprises so many people to learn that she’s actually running more of a Summoner Class than a direct combat build. But there’s a catch here as well. Everything she summons is something she killed before, and all of them are stored within that lance of hers. The Lance of Was. As in, it will make you past tense, and steal an imprint of you to use when Lein has need of you.
I’ve seen her call out titans and monsters. Calamitous beasts and even constructs from the Celestial Chorus, making their power her own.
Sometimes, I hear screaming from her Lance—like a piece of them remains trapped inside that fucking thing.
I’m not a coward. You can’t be a coward if you want to get far here. But that bitch is terrifying, and I don’t want anything to do with her. The day she gets finished is the day I let out a breath—and take a deeper one.
Because if someone can kill Lein the Last… well, that just makes them a bigger monster, doesn’t it? Real nightmare living here sometimes.
-The Old Man on Lein the Last
II-99
The Last of Her Lein (II)
Wei watched a tide of surging fire splash through a rupture in the sky. White-hot flames fell like a waterfall, plunging through the sallow clouds before swelling across the land. It was a testament to the flame that it continued burning in the bitter misery that was the Final End. But the contrary was true as well. The concentrated power of a Duke-Tier Sinner’s Essence failed to do more than melt snow or make the rivers running past the precipice quiver.
The flames cast by Lein tried to expand, but they crawled slowly—strained lethargically against the Hound’s mere presence. The God of Death wasn’t suppressing Lein’s power. Rather, it was as if the flames were rejected by the land, by the air, by this withered place for its vitality, for its energy.
Soon, the caster herself would learn the true meaning of enervation, just like Wei. The young master lingered at the edge of the Final Edge, Pale Fang buried in the barren ground before him, scythe carried upon his shoulder. He had dismissed his Source Anchor in preparation for this battle. There would be no surprise this time—no easy angle of attack. As such, he was going to need all of himself to overcome the entirety of the Duchess.
Her full glory arrived as faint fingers of flame curled through the sky, and through the conflagration erupted a screaming creature—a bloody, wailing phoenix that wept gore and flame in equal measure. Atop its back, Lein stood tall, directing its path with that obsidian lance of hers. Her eyes were like twin stars within the sockets of her visor, one gold and one black. But more than the fire, he could feel the pressure emanating from her very being—her spirit pressing down against his like a mountain.
But he welcomed the discomfort—and found himself pleased when it didn’t strain him nearly as much as before. He struggled in the presence of the Dying Queen, had made his away across the Hearted Realms and even Mepheleon himself. Now, after all his trials, after all that misery, this was nothing. Nothing but another battle; a chance to sharpen the edge of his skill against a great foe; a moment to prove himself through crucible and triumph.
Or be settled with a worthy end.
“No,” the Shell said. “No more weakness. We do not turn away from this. We do not comfort ourselves with delusions of glory and worthiness. She will fall. This is fated. It is fated because she comes to us. It is fated because we are the culmination of will and power combined. Kill your doubt. Pick up your Eidolon. I will be here when you call. And I will be here with every stride, every strike, and every mistake you make.”
The Shell’s words weren’t exactly encouraging, but Wei felt heartened by them regardless. Whatever Asaru did, it awaked a power that Wei shouldn’t have been able to access until far later. Without the Shell, the young master wouldn’t be a fraction of the warrior he was—and that was just considering the insight it offered and not the power.
“Wei… you don’t have to… do this…” The call came from Vendrian. The frost caging his body was cracking as he struggled. He looked down from where he was entombed within the Hound, gazing impassively at the battle about to take place. “Why… why…”
The young master stared at the man—the man he worked so hard to free, who was now almost certain to be a member of Wei’s sect. Unable to help himself, Wei laughed. “Because I’m weary of politics and wish to bring an end to these miserable affairs before they can begin. And because I want to know if I can. I want to prove that I can.”
“That you can what?” A deafening cry sounded from Lein, fast approaching on the back of her phoenix. Her voice made the world tremble, but Wei remained indifferent. He reached out and picked up his Eidolon as the Duchess of Pride came to a blazing halt a mere hundred meters beyond him. The phoenix spread its wings and screamed as streams of brilliant flame streaked through the air. On its back, Lein’s armor also burning, the Essence circulating between her, her lance, and the phoenix itself, making them as if one.
“Nice bird,” Wei said, sneering slightly. “Where does one find such a creature? Is there a market for me to—”
A Dilation-Echo manifested around him. The scene it played was so quick he barely had time to sense what was coming. Lein would thrust her lance out once. He would try to dodge by the barest margins. And then he would disintegrate along with a full five kilometers of the precipice. When all was done, an entire portion of the edge would resemble a steep slope heading straight into the abyss beneath the Hound of the Withered Moon.
So Wei went further than five kilometers. He cut out with his scythe in the same moment she thrust. Distance shattered like a fragile cup of glass. Wei blinked back into existence a few meters behind Lein as he witnessed her true power in breathtaking detail. A thin thread of light extended from the tip her lance. But when it hit, it struck with the full weight of her spirit.
And what a weight that was.
Imagining what might happen when a falling mountain was accelerated against the edge of a waterfall was hard for Wei before this. After her casual jab, he wondered no longer. The impact that followed came with a blossoming tidal wave of force. The air itself caught fire, and all the Essence in the world quivered before the crushing attack. Dust and snow rose high into the sky, blanketing the Hound and the moon.
Wei flared his Empyreal Wrath, the aegis of disintegration protecting him from darting rocks and falling debris. Slowly, Lein turned on the back of her legendary beast, and glared at him. He read the hate pouring from her eyes. But there was more than that. Hate and surprise. “You… I wondered if this plot had layers… and here you are. Why are you here? What is this?”
A laugh, low and nervous, worked its way out of Wei. “I am here because I chose to be. I am here because you were coming.”
“What?”
“Yes. It is true. I had a chance to run. An opportunity to flee. I chose not to. Because I want to see this miserable affair finished—and I need a sacrificial lamb to dissuade people from playing politics with me.”
She looked on at him as if he was mad, barely understanding the meaning behind his words.
The young master sighed. “I know you are the Inheritor’s dog. Let’s start there.”
That broke through her trance. Her hands tightened around her lance. “I am no one’s dog.”
“Yet, here you are, serving the Inheritor’s commands, seeking me out, trying what you can to lay claim to me. Adopt me. What madness. Did you think things through when you delivered such a demand?”
She didn’t reply immediately. Echoes formed and broke around Wei. The tension inside the young master tightened. The echoes never did that before. Nonetheless, Wei continued his speech—using the time to examine everything about Lein. Her stance, the way she controlled her Essence, her weapons, if there was any weakness to exploit…
“Oh, so you seek me of your own accord, then? For what reason? What about me has drawn you so? Do you actually wish to take revenge for your son instead? Or perhaps your vengeance will be for your husband instead.”
There. He saw it: Her body go still at the mention of Goldskull. So, she did care about him. Wei sneered. It was time to twist the knife. “Oh, yes. He is gone now. You are just a few moments too late. I would tell you that he put up a commendable fight for a Duke of Hell, but honestly, he was pathetic. Unworthy of his power. How he got to this point, I do not know—and I pray you are not the same as he.”
“You… you killed him? You?” The snow and dust were settling now, and she turned, staring down into the abyss beneath the Hound, down where her husband was lost now. “No… That’s impossible, you are just a Marquis… you don’t have the power!”
Wei shrugged as the winds keeping him aloft whistled louder. “And he lacked the skill. But if you doubt me… you can go down into the darkness to find out yourself—”
Another echo came. But Wei was ready for this one. Her cut was fast. Faster than Wei could conventionally dodge. Even with his massive increase in power, he was but a tiger trying to fight a hurricane. There should be no way he could prevail. Should be.
Intercepting Spearstriders (Rare): Grants the Shell to perform [Echo Dashes] based on their (Relativity). Allows the Shell to [Echo Dash] through enemy attacks with perfect timing. Causes targets dashed through to sustain an impact based on the Shell’s (Authority) as well.
Her cut went clean through Wei’s throat, but inflicted no harm. Instead of fleeing, he dashed through her blow—through her very being—as his Intercepting Spearstriders ignited around his legs. Shadow and light exploded out from his being. He passed through her like a gust of wind. Yet, a second thereafter, as she shifted in surprise, uncomprehending of how he avoided her attack, a heavy blow slammed into her, a shockwave ringing against her armor, making her do little more than stumble.
But stumble she did. Stagger she did. And suddenly, the tiger could fight the hurricane. The tiger could dance through the storm, wound the gales, and gore the eye at the center.
The tiger could win.
Lein continued her attack. The phoenix joined in with her, expanding its Essence in a billowing blast that consumed everything around them for leagues. Lein struck out at the same time, her lance curving in a wide arc. Wei greeted both at the same time. A Lance of Calamity burst out of the tip of his Pale Fang, its Deconstructive clashing against the blinding flames of the phoenix, shielding him from the worst of the intensity. At the same time, he cut out with his scythe and shattered the distance between her lance and the head of her phoenix.
The Duchess of Pride jolted out of place, existence quivering as if unable to comprehend what just happened. Her attack, still flowing, impacted hard—but struck the head of her beast instead, obliterating its skull in a brutal instant as both of Wei’s arms shifted.
Spearforging Arm (Rare) = Allows the Shell to forge, project, and control Sourceforged spears. Number of spears that can be controlled determined by (Enlightenment). Distance of control within (Omniscience)
Fist of Force-Breaking (Elite) = Unarmed strikes delivered through this gauntlet can store and redirect force based on (Authority)
A dozen Source-spears exploded out from Wei’s left arm, rising as more grew to replace what was lost along the length of the limb. A rain of blades descended upon Lein. She moved—kicking off her headless phoenix as the surrounding air exploded from her acceleration. The shockwave radiating from her form swept out like a tide—only for Wei to slam his Fist of Force-Breaking against it.
For a second time, an attack from the Duchess was parried back into her beast. The rushing wave of force came down on the phoenix like a boot would an insect. It splattered apart as spraying ash, gore, and sparks while Lein warred against swarming Source-spears. She shattered them with swings of her lance and pulses of her spirit, but the spears detonated in blossoms of Source, carving shallow wounds into her very being.
A gasp of surprise came from Lein. Wei summoned even more Source-spears to drown her beneath his offensive. If this was all it took—
“Hekon! Rise!”
A searing light flashed before Wei’s eyes. The Duchess vanished in a burst of ash and viscera before him, and a flash of light flared below. An echo played out an impending death in Wei’s eyes. Wei Echo Dashed—but a moment too soon. He surged forward for a half-second—and promptly found himself clipped by the wing of the phoenix. His Deconstructive Essence splashed against the boiling fires of the phoenix and Wei felt his Pale Fang’s total Essence drop dangerously.
Then came another echo—and this time, Wei cleaved out with his spear—blinking across three hundred meters just as Lein’s spear nearly took his head off.
Tumbling through the air, Wei righted himself with a burst of wind—and saw Lein coming at him. But something was different. The phoenix was different. It didn’t have arms before, its skull was different, and its wings were not so armored—and Wei saw the obsidian lance it was holding, and he let out a disbelieving laugh.
Lein the Last had merged with her beast and was coming right at him. “Finally taking this seriously?”
“No,” Lein said, her voice harsh and cold. “Not yet.” And then, her lance exploded in a prismatic unfurling of countless Essences. Flashes of other forms washed through her, other beasts, individuals, and demons.
Wei blinked as one after another, an army began forming beneath the Duchess’s burning wings, each of them radiating with power—power comparable to the phoenix, and her spirit’s pressure swelled to new heights.
“Hm,” the Shell said. “This will be… educational. If we survive.”
Wei’s jaw dropped. Weren’t you the one who said “there can be no failure”?
“My optimism is prologue.”
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