Brent Stinebaker
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II-67 Bad Instruction (II)
🕑 Added 2025-02-15 19:56:06 +0000 UTCSometimes, beating your friend’s ass is the only way to know that they are, indeed, your friend. Don’t ask me why this is the way things work—it’s just how it is.
-John Bishop
II-67
Bad Instruction (II)
“Vendrian,” Wei said, greeting the Scion of Death, who had come to a sudden halt at his side. The layers of frost that formed the hound-shaped armor dissipated slightly as Vendrian blinked like a drunkard sobering up. Finally, his eyes fell on the young master.
“You,” he breathed, his voice quivering slightly. “Bastard.” Wei couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s not my fault you’ve lost your quarry. Someone had to instruct Agnesia on how to finish her duel.
“Bastard.”Agnesia’s message followed, her words mirroring Vendrian’s sentiment. Once more, the young master chuckled, but the Magma Alchemist did not stay idle.
The ground expanded beneath the alchemist, transforming into a spreading pit of swelling magma. The volcanic structure began to tremble as its essence started to build. Wei’s omniscience revealed that each volcanic crystal was feeding essence back into the Magma Alchemist—a vast network of conduits allowing more and more fiery energy to rise.
“Oh, so this must be part of his strategy,” Wei mused, “to create an eruption and unleash it on an unsuspecting foe.” He recalled that if Agnesia had lasted long enough earlier, he wouldn’t have doubted that the magma alchemist would retreat to this place of power, unleashing its full skill upon her to bring the fight to an end.
Wei righted himself in response, licking his lips as he prepared his dance. He would essence-shift when the flames came for him and force the conflict into a direct, hand-to-hand brawl. Unfortunately, Death’s Bastard did not intend to be so sporting.
Slamming Mourning into spreading lava, his frost-edged blade spewed both deathly cold and the vivacity of life into the magma. Miraculously, as obsidian began to creep outward—overtaking the heat and molten flow—vines and seeds spread down, tunneling through the hardened glass and thick stone. They reached out, seizing each conduit and burrowing into another line of glass to cool them. The Magma Alchemist stumbled back as if something vital had been torn from its being—which was essentially true.
Wei sneered at Vendrian. “You’re ruining my fun.
“I’m ending the fight,” Vendrian declared. “This will be something useful for the girl. Later on, when she does this herself, she should focus on destroying everything she can. A big part of this thing’s power is its terrain—its mastery over the environment. The alchemist can draw power from its surroundings. There’s no sense in letting her fight at such a handicap.”
The young master couldn’t disagree—it was a wise strategy. Yet, he still wanted to test himself at least. “Another moment of glory deprived.”
“Why?” Vendrian continued, a slight note of frustration in his voice. “Why are you so determined to fight this thing like an idiot? With your fists like some kind of drunk at an inn.”
“An idiot?” Wei hated how his voice shrilled. “I’m simply showing respect to a fellow practitioner.”
Somehow, even under the Hound’s influence, Vendrian managed to roll his eyes. “Come on, kid. You lean down.” His breath, a gust of cold, tickled Nick as he spoke. “We’re wasting our time here. We don’t need you to show off for your lover.”
“We nearly—” Wei nearly retorted before he adjusted his comment. “She is not my—this instruction is essential for her skill. I must admit that your strategy of moving the crystals and defeating the volcano before it can erupt is a wise one. However, she must learn to fight. She must overcome her foes with superior strategy and skill—and often, that is what matters.” He clenched his fists, displaying them in a direct combat stance. “Your Aspects against theirs. Your mastery above theirs.”
Vendrian regarded him for a long moment—as if a father assessing the ridiculous words of his son. “No. I prefer winning. I prefer just stomping on them and calling it a day.
“You—you have no pride in combat.”
“No, I don’t,” Vendrian interjected, his voice an octave lower and two degrees colder. “Because I’m an actual warrior. The kind that removes the threat. You are merely peacocking.” He then planted a large finger on Wei’s chest. Even through his armor, the young master could feel the coldness. “Get this done. Do it quickly. And then we can get back to the girl. And show her what for. She already knows its greatest weaknesses. Your little demonstration here won’t be any use to her—not at all. It’s not about you. So, let’s get this done.”
The Magma Alchemist lowered its arms and slowly began backing away, seizing the opportunity to escape. The young master flung out his pale fang—the slave pierced the ground right next to the alchemist. His open hand transformed into a pointed finger.
“You stay there,” Wei commanded. “We are not done with you.”
However, the young master’s attention shifted to another presence—the Scion of Death himself. “We’ve never sparred, have we?” Wei said, his voice dangerously low.
The Scion of Death merely blinked at him. “Really, you’re going to do this with me now?”
Wei sneered. “Why not? I’ve seen the superior threat.”
The Scion snorted and shook his head. “You want to do this? We do it properly. Right now, you need to get your head out of your ass and finish this one.” He waved Mourning at the unmoving alchemist.
Rafael entered the volcanic basin then, but froze as he saw Wei and Vendrian arguing while the Magma Alchemist remained unharmed.
The Scion turned, speaking to the world around him, addressing Agnesia directly. “Alright, kid, here’s your education. Don’t just walk blindly into the valley like a lamb to a butcher’s shop. Destroy the mountains if you can, and keep them at a distance. If you destroy the crystals, he can’t attack you from every angle. And if you force this fucker to keep running, he’s going to run out of essence eventually. He doesn’t have that much on you, but you’re pretty shit at fighting, so… keep him at a distance, and if you can, just bomb him from above.”
With that, Vendrian gave the Alchemist one final look and shrugged. “Alright Wei, let’s be done with this. I’ll keep the fucker still. You end this struggle.” He drew a warning and spoke to the blade. “Sister.”
“I am with you, brother,” Mourning replied.
Suddenly, Wei felt a new set of essences pulsing from the ground. Vines bundled around the volcanic crystals shot upward as a new eruption began—not one of magma, but of flowing life. Vines, veins, and blossoming flowers layered themselves around the bowl-shaped cavity within the volcano. Wei’s eyes widened as an overwhelming surge of life flowed into his being. Every ache, along with the new soreness in his neck, vanished in an instant. Delectable, divine scents assailed his nose, and he sensed a system of notification breaking through his stupor.
Resisting [Flavors of Effervescence] with Aspect of Constitution
Wei finally cleared his mind. “What was that?”
“That, kid, is the benefit of having a sister who can twist the very nature of life and nature.” Vendrian grinned. Across the way, the Scion gestured at the Magma Alchemist, who stumbled as the scents assailed his spirit, while vibes coiled around his legs.
Wei narrowed his gaze. The damn thing didn’t even have nostrils. How could it be so affected by these flavors?” he wondered. Then it struck him: it was affecting its spirit as well—burrowing into it, drowning it in overwhelming energies, healing it faster than it could keep up. All that excess power had to go somewhere, but there was no place it could be offputted too, and now…
The Alchemist began to spasm.
“Interesting,” Wei said.
“Yeah, so now you can go finish it off if you want. Or I can.” Vendrian shot him a look.
Wei paused, resummoned his Pale Fang, and strode over to the Magma Alchemist. “I apologize,” he said, frowning slightly at his dishonorable actions. “Perhaps in another life.” He charged—
The Alchemist twitched, but clenched his fists regardless.
***
“I thought you said it was incapacitated,” Wei hissed, holding a hand over his swollen right eye.
“I didn’t say shit, you just assumed,” Vendrian said, holding his swollen left.
As they bickered with each other, Rafael stared at Agnesia, who glared at everyone with folded arms and the strongest pout she could muster. The battle against the Magma Alchemist had devolved into a mess in the end. Sure, the powers of Mourning left the alchemist in a stupor, but it was still rather good with its fists. Good enough to punch Wei in the face at least once, channel one final burst of magma, then punch Vendrian as well.
In the end, it was a bolt to the back from Rafael that stunned the alchemist long enough for Wei to drive his Pale Fang through its chest and disintegrate the foe.
“Well, now you know how to beat the shit,” Vendrian said, coughing awkwardly.
It wasn’t exactly the triumphant return imagined, but they were triumphant. And the girl could get more than a little insight from their actions.
“Yes, I just needed a lot of new Skills—to be invincible or to be a prick born in a martial-supremacist hellworld that trains you from birth to kill,” she replied. The girl was well past pouting now, full on scowling.
The young master withstood her whimpering stare and shrugged. “Yes, quite simple.” The flash of her outrage pleased him, though he tried his best to hide it.
“You!” Suddenly, Bishop materialized beside them. “Wei, I need to—” he began, then looked at them incredulously. “What the hell, why are you in the Tower of Possibility?”
Wei pointed at Agnesia. “This one’s losing badly and trying to get a Specialization Evolution worth keeping.”
“I am not losing badly,” Agnesia retorted. “I won most of my fights.”
“Most of them, yes,” Wei nodded. “Everyone is a winner until they lose. And then sometimes, those who lose don’t get to live anymore.” He grinned at Agnesia. In response, she hurled a bolt of fire at him. He barely dodged it. “Oh, you’re getting faster. Or maybe it’s just because I’m covering my eye.”
Twin golden torches burned within her eyes, and the way she glared at him made him feel things—things he’d bid his best to ignore for now.
“Alas, it is time for you to try again, Agnesia, as many times as you can. I think you can defeat this one, though it will be a substantial challenge.” Yes, she could defeat this thing. However, the Magma Alchemist was a tremendous foe, and mentioning how low her odds were wasn’t going to be helpful.
While this happened, Bishop simply pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn it, Wei, I thought you were going to do something useful. Do something restful, even, to prepare for stuff. Not leave while everyone else is sleeping so that you can get into a bunch of dumb shit.”
“Agnesia needs to grow stronger,” Wei muttered.
“Yeah. And that shit takes time, idiot. You’re trying to rush her through this because you rush through everything. Just because slamming your head into every fight you can start works for you doesn’t mean she’s going to be able to pull this off. I mean—she doesn’t even have basic training.”
“She a Scion of Destruction.”
“Half the Claimed Hells is on some bullshit,” Bishop growled. “You kids need to get back to Slumberland and just take a moment to breath. Spend some time decompressing—figuring out your shit. Not doing this.”
“I wanted to be here,” Agnesia said, quietly. “I wanted to feel—”
“Yeah. I know. I don’t—” The Trespasser restrained his frustration. “I get it. What you’re trying to do. Keep going if you gotta, but don’t be surprised if you find yourself stuck dead. My problem isn’t with you.” Bishop turned a flat stare at Wei. “It’s with genius here who thought he could finish Rome in a day.”
“What is Rome?”
“It’s a place, but that’s not important. What’s important is that you don’t waste your time or burn yourselves out. Not with a big op coming up.” He let out a sigh and shook his head. “Well. Agnesia. If this helps you blow off steam, keep going. But if it doesn’t. If this is just going to frustrate you, then I’d say you take the night off and just sleep.”
The princess considered the Trespasser for a moment, and clenched her fists. “I thank you for your concern, Master Bishop. But I fear I cannot sleep.”
They shared a look and Bishop frowned. “Alright, then. Do what you gotta do. But keep your head on straight. You’re going to need it for when you walk into the Collectress’s den.”
Agnesia’s jaw hardened as she sprouted fiery wings and ascended to the portal once more. As she rose, Bishop wheeled on Wei. “I need to talk to you about your father and his Class. Actually, I need to talk with you about more than a few things for this shit to go right. But before that, the fuck were you thinking just having her run this gauntlet while she’s in such a state?”
“It was supposed to help her keep her mind clear,” Wei said, unsure why Bishop was being so uptight about things.
“And you think live-fire exercises and getting killed over and over in simulated realms will do that for her?” Bishop asked.
“Yes?” Wei replied, increasingly confused.
Vendrian shrugged his large shoulders. “Yeah. Fighting works for me.”
Bishop finally turned his gaze on Rafael, who froze and then considered the question more carefully.
“Sometimes… physical pain is better than spiritual anguish,” the lich answered.
“Right. I forgot I was dealing with a pack of psychotic battle manics,” Bishop snorted. “You fucking people. Jesus Christ. Alright. So—”
At that, Wei suddenly felt a pulse of essence. Redirecting his attention to the screen, he realized Agnesia had died again—only her lower body remained. The rest was a smoking ruin. Across from her, the Magma Alchemist stood with two crystalline shards clutched in his hands. How he managed to slay her that time, Wei didn’t know, and he was sad to have missed it.
From the bridges above, cursing rang out, echoing down and building in intensity. Raphael shook his head. “She failed to dodge a particularly well-aimed jet of magma that time.”
Wei rolled his eyes in disappointment. “Tragic. Well. She will learn. One way or another. So, then, Bishop. While the princess chisels away her incompetence, you wish to discuss matters about my father’s involvement with me.”
“Yeah. And also how it could be educational for you as well. It’ll be good for you to understand his ways. To use him better. And, hopefully not, but just in case, to put him down if he ever breaks free from your control.”
The young master’s expression hardened to granite. “Very well. I am listening.”
Comments
Cosmoros Subs
Poor agnesia. Should just be OP.
