Brent Stinebaker
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II-64 Team Building (III)
🕑 Added 2025-02-08 17:36:50 +0000 UTCTo enlighten the ignorant is akin to lifting a feather, but to grant wisdom to the stubborn demands the teacher bear a mountain.
-Ancient Evernest Proverb
II-64
Team Building (III)
“So, I’m guessing this is the part you tell me what I did wrong,” Agnesia said sullenly. She was sitting there, right outside the rift, cross-legged and frowning. She hadn’t thrown as much of a tantrum as we’d expected, but her mood was dour—exactly how a noble young lady would behave if she didn’t get what she desired.
For a few moments, the young master, the Scion of Death, and the trespasser lich looked down at her. They exchanged glances, and Wei considered how he would approach the topic.
“Well, to start with, everything.” She extended one of her cross-legged legs and likely kicked him in the ankle. Wei didn’t grant her the dignity of responding with a wince.
“Arsehole,” Agnesia muttered under her breath.
“It’s still true,” Wei said. “You went out that rider like a raging bull—wasting your Essence, swinging your arms wide.” He took a deep breath, pondering how he should continue. “You have quite a bit of power, quite a bit of Strength, especially for your current level. But alas, skill and mastery takes a lifetime to gather, years of focus, years you do not have right now.”
“So, you’re saying I’m just hopeless?” Agnesia replied, her tone growing ever more dour.
“No,” Wei replied firmly, “there is more than just skill. There are also the choices you make in combat—intelligence. You don’t need to best everyone in a direct duel. What you can do is force your enemies to fight on your terms—to face your overwhelming fires—your ability to dominate the Concept of Destruction. But that means you need to spend your Essence properly instead of wastefully.”
At that, Vendrian let out a chuckle beside Wei. The young master eyed him and asked, “Do you have something to add?”
At that moment, Vendrian let out a chuckle beside Wei. The young master eyed him. “Do you have something to add?”
“All this talk of tactics and strategy was going to be wasted on her. She wasn’t going to be able to keep it in her head.” Vendrian looked Agnesia up and down. “She looks like she hasn’t even thrown an actual punch in her life. What the hell is that loopy shit you keep doing?”
Agnesia wilted. “It’s supposed to be a hook.”
“A hook?” Vendrian deadpanned. “Looks more like a sloppy haymaker to me. But hey, it doesn’t really matter. You’ve got enough firepower to put a hole through a small hill; it’s just a shame you keep swinging and missing.”
“All right, all right,” she threw up her hands. “I’m terrible.”
“Not terrible. Just… very… unpracticed,” Wei said, now glaring at Vendrian. “We must go over each and every one in detail to ensure you never commit these faults to action again.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Vendriain interrupted witha sigh. “That’s not going to be very helpful for her. She just needs to do one thing right. Keep things simple.”
“Simple,” Wei said, gritting his teeth. Was this scion of death challenging his role as patriarch?
“Yeah, simple,” Vendrian continued. “She’s not going to be able to focus that much in the fight. Her mind goes blank—she’s not you or me. She’s not used to the chaos and horseshit. So, a simple plan. That’s all she needs right now.”
Wei stared on at Vendrian for a few seconds longer before he turned to Rafael. “And what say you, friend? What do you think?” The lich went still, considering his predicament. He was trying to get someone on his side, but he was also interested in what the Trespasser might say. Childishness aside, the Young Master did want to heed Rafael’s insight.
“I think—a synthesis of our mutual philosophies is the best way we proceed,” Rafael began.
Vendrian snorted. “A synthesis? Philosophies? Hound’s Frigid Cock, you sound like a nobleman spraying shit from his lips.” Rafael ignored the Bastard and continued, “It’s very simple, Agnesia.” He took a step closer, kneeling to meet her eye-to-eye. In that moment, Wei realized the lich was naturally was much better at this human interaction thing than he was—and that made him feel a special kind of offended inside.
“When you are fighting,” Rafael continued, “you seem to react as if you use your power like a large club or a hammer. What are you thinking?”
Agnesia considered his words for a moment, her face darkening with passing thoughts. “I’m—I don’t—this—this rage that overtakes me, like I need to break them. It’s part of my class. Wrath. It demands that I hate the thing I fight, that I give everything I have to destroy it.” Even as she spoke, her aura of flames swirled and crackled, building with intensity. Slowly, she forced a breath from her lungs and relaxed. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep calm.” She looked to Vendrian. “You’re right.”
“Okay,” Rafael continued. “So, with that in mind, we need you to harness your rage and use it in a conducive way. Let’s say, for instance, did you notice that the knight was much weaker than you? That it used strategy and avoidance to engage you?”
Agnesia nodded slightly. “Yes, it—it struck at me, using its mount as a distraction several times. And then the shadows… Ignium—I have no idea how to overcome such a skill. It’s like I was completely blinded. It swallowed my other senses as well. I can’t hear. I can’t even feel right.” I looked to Rafael as he slowly considered how to counter such an attack. Agnesia didn’t have the ability to Essenceshift. Suddenly, the young master realized how much he relied on that skill.
“You must develop more options,” his Shell declared. “She is not the only one who learns here.”
“So then, if you cannot overcome that skill,” Rafael continued, offering further counsel, “I think you should avoid encountering the problem in the first place.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” Agnesia said, a bit of heat entering her voice.
“It’s very simple,” Rafael replied. “You fight simply. Instead of swinging and smashing as hard as you can, you—” He made a sweeping gesture. “—you grab onto him. You bring him into your flames, hold onto the rider—ignore everything he does—and channel all of your fire in that instant. You burn him down, you overwhelm him, but you never let him go, no matter what he does. I do not think he has your Constitution, your Strength.”
Agnesia considered the lich’s advice and nodded slowly. “Yes, yes, I think I can. I think I can do that. Especially since I managed to strike him—I stopped his lance.”
Wei and Vendrian shared a scowl. Both felt a little outdone by the lich.
“Yeah,” Vendrian added, backing up Rafael’s advice. “The thing about the grapple is—you want to reach around and catch the rider. Remember how the Wyvern just turned to smoke? It can still hit you, but it’s not a reliable target the other way around.”
Wei built on that. “You can circumvent that problem. Make the rider think you’re going for their mount. If you go directly for them, I fear they may be too fast for you. Surprise will be your ally here.”
“All right, all right,” Agnesia repeated twice, her confidence slowly returning as her essence began to build. “I’m going to take a few more minutes to recover and… and…” Then she turned and looked at the rift again. She swallowed. “Then I guess I’ll give it another try. Another try.”
Wei knelt down, evening his level to hers. He stole the strategy from Rafael. “Do not worry about failing,” he said. “Don’t worry about pride. Worry about power—your strength. Think of your mother.”
Agnesia suddenly went still, and her mouth dropped slightly.
Wei continued. “I know it fills your stomach with cold agony. I know. But feel it, and know that you’re still alive. Know that you can overcome. There is only so much that the world can hurt you. Now you hurt it back. And if you want to stop feeling it, then you must take from the world. No matter how many times you fall, no matter how miserable it is, rise and take.”
They shared a look, and her jaw hardened. Slowly, she rose, and he rose with her—only to find himself a good half-meter short of her height. The moment was slightly ruined for Wei, but he repressed that feeling. This instant belonged to her; it was meant to bolster her confidence.
“All right, then,” she said. “That was nothing. Losing once is nothing. My brothers have seen them taste the mud plenty of times while training. I’m no better than them, but I’m also no worse.”
This got Vendrian to offer a rare gin. “Yeah, get your ass kicked enough, and it goes the other way. Stay the course. Take your licks. And then… fuck them back.”
The princess clenched her jaw. “Right. Fuck them back.”
***
Agnesia began her second attempt with her Draconic Avatar already manifested. She materialized on the platform with her manifestation holding its arms wide, anticipating an attack from above—yet this time, nothing came. However, near the periphery, in the massive storms that tumbled and whirled around, a dark shape slithered and shot, gliding like a serpent beneath a torrid river. Her eyes tried to track the adversary, but it moved too fast—far too fast for her speed.
“Great. They adapted too,” Vendrian said.
“That’s fine,” Wei replied. “She needs to wait for them to come to her anyway.”
After a while, Agnesia stopped circling and stayed perfectly still. Wei winced at that. She knew what she was trying to do—to goad an attack—but still, remaining stationary was death. One must be fluid, capable of immediately bounding into motion.
“Come on,” Agnesiaroared, her Draconic Avatar carrying her voice above the roar of crashing waves and cascading lightning. “Come on, face me, coward, coward!” You could hear the nervousness in her voice, and within the Draconic Avatar he saw her hands shaking—saw that quiver run along her lip—but still she stood. She glared, she roared, and she held. This was the first step for any cultivator. There was fear, but there was also something greater—something they wanted more.
Suddenly, a shape burst out from the stormwall behind her. It blinked across the distance of a full kilometer, riding fast as the winds peeled from its body—a creature of shadow, iron, and claw. On its back, the rider hefted its lance high, gleaming brightly and poised to pierce through her back.
Within a heartbeat, they were upon her, and she was only halfway into her turn.
Suddenly, however, Agnesia dismissed her Draconic Avatar. The lance punched through nothing. A second later, the avatar re-manifested, and she twisted, lashing out with burning claws and clamping jaws, pulling the wyvern down as she reached over with her other hand and seized the rider by his midriff.
“Got you,” Agnesia snarled. Her Essence swelled. She channeled every last bit of her flames from her body. It was as if her Draconic Avatar was going into a supernova. Twin wings sprouted from her, extending further and further—reaching nearly a kilometer in length, their burning wingspan igniting the world around her. Everything combusted into screaming fire: starting orange, then black, then gold, and finally the purest white.
After a few moments, as the rider struggled—stabbing and piercing her Draconic Avatar with his gleaming lance—his own armor began to heat, and he started to writhe. Rafael’s plan had come to fruition. The rider wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t nearly tough enough to endure what Agnesia could dish out. A second later, before everything faded into brilliant nothingness, we saw a gush of fire rush out from his visor as his body convulsed in a death spasm.
“Shit,” Vendrian chuckled as he shook his head. “She won that shit fast. Fast fucking learner.”
A few seconds later, the spatial rift pulsated again. I was surprised she hadn’t even considered this specialization, but then again, it didn’t fit her. Though the rider was an effective adversary, Agnesia didn’t seem like the type to rely on a summoned mount or the Aspect of Speed to combat her foes. Such an approach demanded more maturity from her capabilities—more skill, skill she sorely lacked. That got him thinking. She needed an evolution that granted her a lot of power, for power was what she had right now, power in great supply. He needed to advise her on this, make sure she didn’t go down the wrong path.
A few seconds later, she peered over the edge, and after keeping her face neutral and serious for a moment, she broke into a large grin. “Did you see that?” she cried. “Did you see that?” She jumped down as wings of fire spread from her back, and she came soaring—barreling and twisting through the air in jubilation.
“Yes,” Rafael said with raucous laughter. “We saw. You did perfectly, perfectly.” Wei found himself bearing an unwilling smirk as well, and he suddenly noticed that Vendrian shared the same expression. As they both caught each other’s glance, they forced themselves back into a sneer and a grimace, respectively. They couldn’t over-encourage her; right now, a bit of joy after defeat was natural. But to allow it to fester and flourish into something too much? That was the breeding ground for arrogance—undeserved arrogance.
“Did you see that?” she said again, her voice high and shrill. Once more, she was just like a girl—just a girl.
“Yeah, we did,” Vendrian said. “Congratulations. You can follow basic instructions. Guess that makes you smarter than half the dumb bastards who live here. Including me.”
Her smile turned awkward.
“It was a good performance. This I cannot deny.” Wei gestured toward Vendrian. “What matters is that you followed our instructions and executed. You won’t believe how many Outer Court Disciples cannot do such a basic thing.” He gave her a reassuring nod. “Well done. Truly.” At his praise, her face lit up with genuine joy.
“You really mean that?” she asked.
“Yes. You learned and adapted well. Be proud of this moment. Be proud of what you have done, what you overcame.” And her smile lost its arrogance, becoming rather genuine. The flames around her softened, the gold overcoming the black, as she was lit by a radiant glow. So then, she breathed, “On to the next one.”
“No, not yet,” Wei said. “We should go over things.”
“No,” Vendrian interrupted the young master. “She should go off and get her ass kicked again.” The young master looked at the Scion. He wanted to rebuke Vendrian for interrupting him, but he found himself fascinated instead.
“And why do you say that, Vendrian?” he asked.
“Because she’s won once—triumphing over her failure. But now, she needs to get a good kick in the teeth again, so she dips. And then, hopefully, she wins again, and then dips again and wins again. So she knows the score.”
“Knows the score?” Wei said, testing the euphemism on his tongue.
“Yeah, a victory isn’t guaranteed, but you can always get better. You can overcome who you were before. That’s what matters. That’s what keeps you going.”
The young master nodded at that. “I see.”
“And after everything’s done,” Vendrian continued, “then we go over what you could do better. Or at least, when you run into a bottleneck you can’t overcome. Right now, we’re just picking at fish bones.”
As much as Wei wanted to go over every one of Agnesia’s failures in excruciating detail, this might be more efficient. He looked back to the princess and gave her a nod. “Well then, I suppose it’s as you said. On to the next one.”
Agnesia’s face solidified into a determined expression. “Well, maybe I won’t lose. Maybe I’ll just keep winning.”
The young master and Vendrian shared another look at that. Both of them failed to hold back a snort.
Suddenly, Agnesia wasn’t smiling anymore. “Arseholes.”
Comments
Brent Stinebaker
Give me a second; checking if I did an iteration mistake. Edit: Yes. Give me a bit, I used the original just formatted version.
Brady Fiola
Amnesia and Magnesia are my favorites
Aramis
There are a ton of errors. Did you upload the right version
