Brent Stinebaker
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II-19 Scion of the Celestial Flame (III)
🕑 Added 2024-11-16 17:57:35 +0000 UTCCelestial Vanguards.
What to say about them?
Say they’re enforcers of a long-dead god of purity carved into something that vaguely resembles the body of a person. Say their bright is more than flame—it heals as easily as it destroys. Say they can burn anything—even fire itself. Say they’re supernovas of destruction when they wish to devastate, and nigh-breakable bulwarks when their flames draw dim.
Say they’re easiest to kill when they’re at their most dangerous and understand you need to avoid attacking them when they dim, lest you wish to feed their light anew.
Look… imagine fighting a small-scale fusion bomb that, after expending itself, can absorb your attacks to regenerate its flame if it manages a successful counter. Yeah. Yeah, it’s pretty bad.
Treat them as being a whole Class-Tier higher than what they are. Treat them as a threat—treat them as something to avoid.
Or you’ll learn what it means to be touched by the Creator’s flame You’ll learn…
-The Trespasser’s Compendium Bestiary Entry: Celestial Vanguard
II-19
Scion of the Celestial Flame (III)
A long stretch of silence consumed the Trespassers as they watched Wei reject the Graviton Brawler's offerings.
“Ho-ly shit,” John Bishop said. He chuckled and looked at John Doe once more. “You know, Doe, you're a pretty smart guy. Real careful with your Sins. Was a good idea. Not betting.”
John Doe didn't respond to the former Green Beret's provocations. Instead, he was standing close—too close—to the golden screen, scrutinizing Wei's every single move. The young master had exceeded all his expectations.
That battle was near surgical.
Aside from the single blow the Brawler landed early on, Wei controlled that fight, controlled it in an impossibly dominant fashion, despite being far weaker in all Aspects. He did it by adapting to the way the Brawler fought. He didn’t waste time wrestling against its force, or trying to match its speed, or hesitated in any fashion.
Instead, adapted, and he forced his foe to react instead.
All the young master’s Aspects worked in tandem, making him more than the sum of his stats. He had a shifted goal in mind: to overwhelm his adversary through whatever means possible, using whatever opportunities possible.
With each progressive fight, the young master used his Eidolon with greater precision and efficiency. He didn’t throw out bolts of lightning or tides of water with wild abandon, nor did he launch massive boulders or twisting whirlwinds.
Everything was kept in moderation until one final instant: an explosion of Scorn, of essence, of focused violence.
But his growth wasn’t just spectacular—it was wrong. Unnatural. There was no one coaching Wei, no one training him between bouts.
That was supposed to be John Doe's role.
The entire arrangement was meant to engender a sense of trust between him and the Trespassers' Lodge. Wei would fail when he inevitably ran into a strong enough adversary. He would grow frustrated after repeated attempts, and through Doe’s guidance, through Nils’s expertise, through even Bishop's subtle manipulations, he would finally overcome, and a sense of camaraderie would be born.
Except the boy apparently didn’t need it. Wei was overcoming these challenges on his own, clearing instance after instance, his skill growing at an impossible pace, even considering his Mental Aspect.
John Doe had seen generational talents in his time—warriors nearly without peer, strategists beyond the description of genius, all manner of adversaries. And he had killed them all, too.
But Wei was something else.
He was learning, undergoing an active metamorphosis before the Fighter's very eyes, and it was unnatural. It was as if he had a special master instructing him at every point, refining his every mistake, guiding him with every battle.
Nils’ head was tilted as well. Instead of a wary frown, his face was a mask of appreciation. “Well, I’m not sure if he even needs us. If he keeps up with this performance, all we might be able to offer him is support.” He gave Moonscar a look. “Tell me, did that System allow you to—”
“No.” Moonscar cut him off. “The Concept Breaker only allows you to destroy, to change boundaries, to amplify yourself, and to take from the world. This... this is something unique to Wei.”
Nils scrutinized Bishop. “And you said his mother was just a cultivator?”
“A phenomenally talented matriarch, apparently,” Bishop said. “We can bring out William once they finish patching him up. Scanned his mind though. He didn’t lie.”
“He’s your friend,” John Doe said, his accusation unstated.
“Yeah, he’s my friend. He also destroyed the kid’s life, murdered an entire planet filled with people. So he has it coming. Doesn’t matter what I feel about him. I didn’t cover for him.”
“That wasn’t my statement,” John Doe said.
“Yeah, but that was your hint.” Bishop licked his lips. “Subtlety is not your specialty, Doe. You have a problem with me? You’d best state it plain.”
“Enough,” Moonscar said. “The boy is about to enter the final Instance. I wish to see this.”
“Ah yes,” Nils brightened. “The Celestial Vanguard. Quite the foe. Even for a Count-Tier adversary.” He snorted. “I never could get used to that. Why did Mepheleon rank Counts higher than Marquises? Isn’t it the other way around?”
“Personal slight,” Moonscar said, and said nothing more.
“Ah,” Nils nodded. “Well. The boy has performed admirably so far, but this foe... It will be hard.”
“He will find a way,” John Doe said.
This time, Bishop gave him a look of surprise. “So he’s won you over too?”
“He did not win me over,” John Doe said. “I’m simply observing a pattern. If he fails, that is to be expected. But he should have failed. He should have failed at several points. He hasn’t. So expecting him to fail now is simply not… empirical.”
“Well, look at you being a regular scientist.”
John Doe ignored Bishop, his attention entirely fixated on the screen.
Soon. Soon he would witness the young master’s capabilities once more. Time to see if the boy would grow once more. After that… John Doe wasn’t sure what he could offer Wei. The young master didn’t need a combat instructor. Not at the pace he was growing. No, what he needed were other means of refinement. Perhaps someone to help him with his trauma.
And that inspired another note of concern in the Fighter. At the rate Wei was progressing… There was a window of time when John might be able to kill him. Might be able to decisively win. But that window wasn’t going to last.
He needed to ask Wei for a duel. And he needed to make plans.
The young master wasn’t just an opportunity or an ally—but a growing risk. Once he hit Marquis-Tier or above… perhaps the only people capable of stopping him would be Mepheleon. Or another System-host. Or an army of Classed.
More than what John Doe himself could muster. Much more.
In the boy, he saw promise. Of death. Of triumph. Or Earth’s destruction.
***
Wei took a moment to steady himself before the final Instance.
The portal before him shimmered bright, and even through its threshold, he felt a crushing power greater than even that of the Graviton Brawler.
For a few minutes, Wei meditated, recounting all that he had learned, all that he had faced, all the experiences he had earned.
By pain and triumph, he was honing himself, forging himself into a better warrior. And through it all, his shell was there to help him, to scorch him, to demand more of him.
“Your armor is almost restored,” his shell said. “Your Source has long been filled. Ignore the masteries. Recount your experiences after you finish. Ignore what offerings they have generated from this battle. Focus—focus on what lies ahead. Tell me, what do you think you’ve learned?”
“To accept,” Wei said.
“To accept what?”
“The capabilities of my foes... and my own limits.”
“You have no limits,” the Shell replied sharply. “But you have weaknesses—present weaknesses. They will not last, not forever. Continue.
“To dominate—not by force, not only by force—but by all means. This is skill, the true essence of mastery, to use all that I are capable of against all they are not.”
“Good.” The Shell’s voice lowered, laced with an almost approving intensity. “And how shall you attack?”
“Overwhelmingly,” Wei said, “from all angles. One attack becoming another, transforming, unceasing—but not wastefully.”
“And how will you defend?”
“Through attack. Through motion. Through active aggression. Never passive. Never hesitate.”
“Then show me,” the Shell growled. “Show me that you have learned. Show me that these Trespassers have underestimated us. That we are worthy of the system. That we, by our deeds today, have lived up to the teachings of the Drowned Sky Sect. You were weak. Pathetic. You embarrassed yourself against your father earlier. You allowed Lady Ellena to have her head taken. You allowed your mother to be slain. Is that the boy who will walk through this portal? Is that the worthless vermin who holds the spear?”
“No,” Wei said, a coldness entering his voice.
He wished he could cut his Shell down. But the Skill was right.
It was the best version of him possible..
And Wei deserved these words.
He deserved to hate his former selves.
He deserved to hate them for their weakness, for their failure.
The hate would make him better.
The hate would make him like the Shell.
His present self would have never failed Ellena. His present self would have never allowed Agnesia to weep, to let Roggi suffer his wounds. Whatever their burdens, he would be more. Whatever the hells unleashed against him, he would be greater.
“Go then,” the Shell said. “It does not matter what waits on the other side. It could be Mepheleon himself. And you must find a way. Cut him down. Cut them down. Prove yourself worthy.”
Wei opened his eyes and stood. Reaching out a hand, he summoned his Eidolon and stepped forth. He stepped into the portal, into the last Instance, into the last good fight he would know. And inside his being, an impossible equilibrium sang like white noise, his focus unshaking—unshakeable.
Through the portal, he witnessed the Instance and nearly flinched from the choking Essence he felt. The world was radiance unleashed. Patterns of intersecting light crisscrossed the skies above, and columns of pale-white fire hefted dilapidated castles heft by burning clouds. A bridge of gleaming ivory extended forth, led off into an open court. Tiles for the floor of the arena ahead, and a solitary figure awaited him.
Using his Omniscience, Wei gauged the entire space to hundreds of kilometers wide. In the distance, he saw massive gates of ethereal pallor. A song drifted through the world, the melody not unlike that which was sung by the Trine. This place… the Essence that suffused it… Greater Creation and Greater Destruction warred here. Shaped this place.
And Wei’s Concept Core of Destruction trembled inside his Eidolon.
Walking across the bridge, he saw massive entities staring down at him. They looked like revolving wheels interlaced with each other, their surfaces lined with eyes, their gaps sprouting burning wings. Others were too hard for him to comprehend, their geometries unnatural to the extreme. There were thousands of them hovering in the vicinity, observing the wide court.
And once more, Wei noted his adversary. The Remnant Avatar. His final challenge.
He could feel power radiating from his foe like searing heat. Uncannily, the spiritual pressure nourished Wei was much as it scalded him.
Celestial Vanguard: Enforcer of Creation Lv. 171
Unlike all his previous foes, the Celestial Vanguard was not a colossal beast—no taller than two meters, even. It did not immediately unleash a barrage of devastating attacks against him, nor was it guarded by an esoteric Skill. Instead, it was a humanoid warrior clad in fiery armor. The flames that posed its resplendent plates were plate, and intricate patterns danced across the surface of the divine alloy like traveling fractures. It sported six wings, three of them bright, and three of them pitch black. And its helmet was a vertical chasm, within which dwelled a shivering conflagration that hurt Wei to even behold.
Source: [597/600] Lumen
A spill of monochrome leaked out from Wei’s eyes as he chuckled. Quite the foe, wounding him without action.
The young master continued walking. Until he finally came to a stop just five meters away from the Celestial Vanguard. Through it all, the Vanguard did nothing to stop him. It studied him, just as he studied it. A beat of uneasy silence followed. The young master gripped his spear tightly and declared his intentions to all those who were present. “I am Wei An Wei, Patriarch of the Drowned Sky Sect. I come here to earn a proper Class Specialization Evolution. I come here to face your champion, to show myself as worthy. I hope that you can show me proper instruction.”
The Vanguard, much like the Graviton Brawler before it, surprised Wei. “I sense the touch of Hell within you.”
Wei blinked. Almost none of his foes spoke to him. But this one—this one had a strong voice. A crisp voice. A voice that promised violence, but a voice capable of gentleness as well.
“That I do,” Wei replied, his tone even. “But it is my power to wield.”
The Vanguard considered his words. “I judge your words as truth. The song of the Lost Gate resounds within you. The Hearted Realm… you have passed through the core of an Archdevil.”
Another unexpected declaration. “You know this? And the Lost Gate—it is the final threshold? That which marks me as a citizen?”
“The Third Gate forges a marker of divinity within you,” the Vanguard said. “Such is why you have not been unmade by the Empyreal Flame. And a song of a Trine… you have done much in the service of the Creator. I salute you, strange challenger. It is a pity I am no longer true. This is only a replication of what I originally was. My court must have been lost. This Instance a preservation, but a replica, diminished of the Creator’s glow. But you… you may still serve Creation. To fulfil the legacy of the Creator.”
The Celestial Vanguard fell to a single knee, and it was like existence itself shook. “Oh, Wei An Wei, Patriarch of the Drowned Sky Sect. I will surrender myself to your spear and grant you desired power. In trade, I wish to impart upon you a quest: to guard the Trine when they return as the Harmonious One. To nourish them, and ensure the restoration of the Celestial Harmony.”
Slowly, Wei took in the Remnant Avatar’s words and shook his head. “Stand. I will have my fight. And I swear to meet your cause. I have given my honor to protect the Faebloods already regardless.”
The Vanguard rose and titled their head. “Then… I understand… This battle is to be my offering to you… a truer reward than power.”
“A weapon is not deserved by an unworthy wielder,” Wei proclaimed.
The Vanguard flared its wings. “Magnificent.” It reached out with its right hand, and a thin scar of flame formed in the air. Slowly, a congealment of all-restoring, all-destroying Essence fused into a glaive of blinding purity, and Wei felt the destruction contained within its length. It was three meters long. Three meters, and more devastating than anything he faced before. Wei knew. He knew it in his bones. “Behold my flattery. A weapon aping yours. A weapon to become yours should you prevail.”
“Magnificent,” Wei echoed.
“Come, then, honored adversary,” the Celestial Vanguard echoed. “Show me your conviction. Give unto me a testament of your might. Let us begin of your accord.”
“Very well,” Wei said.
Then he struck.
He struck with a cascade of different attacks, each building upon another, each a layer of complexity.
His opening cut released a blade of wind—a probing strike and nothing more. A stomp of his foot send a wall of stone rising beneath the Vanguard’s feet; a tendril of water—formed in advance, whipped out from behind his foe. But Wei also released his spear—let the winds wield his Eidolon for him as he summoned the Knight of Lust’s rapier. He stabbed trice, each strike duplicating the silvery blade. They joined the fray as well, and in that single moment, his opening onslaught collapsed upon the Vanguard like a cage—and became a symphony unto itself.
The Vanguard swept out with spear and wings. Blades of divine flame swept out—Wei’s wind slash was unmade. As well as two of the three rapier thrusts he delivered. That last blade twirled wildly off course. The young master’s Eidolon twirled off to the side, and Wei himself had already vanished. The shape of the young master exploded out the ground a meter to the left of the Vanguard with the rapier in hand, already thrusting.
But the Vanguard reacted instantly. It was faster than Wei. Exactly as fast as the Graviton Brawler. It cleaved Wei clean in half with a wing—or what it thought was Wei. A sculpture of Wei molded from earth itself turned to two. Three more stone statues blasted out around the Vanguard, each of them bearing a silvery blade, each of them covered by falling bolts of lightning, each of them propelled by wind.
The Vanguard swept its glaive out. A wide beam of coruscating radiance hewed everything around it clean. Everything its fire touched simple broke apart. Was deconstructed. It wasn’t an unmaking like Source, more like it disassembled the foundational material components of a material.
And then came a ring impact. The first blow of combat had been struck. And it was delivered by Wei.
The third silvery blade Wei created—the one that sailed far off course, had been caught by his water tendril. Everything else had been a smokescreen, an initial exchange to gauge the reflexes and habits of the Vanguard. Just as the Vanguard unmade all of Wei’s other attacks, a thin whip of water lashed the rapier against their chest—and a surge of lightning followed.
A thunderclap sounded. The silvery blade detonated as an explosion before it could dissolve against the Vanguard’s fiery plating. A small rent was left in the center of their chestpiece.
And it was the stronger of the two duelists that staggered back, clutching their chest. It was the more powerful among them that was humbled.
A low hum of astonishment sounded from the Vanguard. Slowly, it looked up, and saw Wei drifting it the air above, a whirling twisting around him, trails of Essence extended out from him like puppet strings. Slowly, the Eidolon circled the Vanguard, fighting separately from its master, and finally, silver-tipped needles began to rain down from the sky, each trapped in a sphere of water.
“What skill…” the Vanguard said. “Alas… if fear you will not be enough.” And as they lifted their hand from their chest, the small puncture Wei sizzled away, the fiery aura of the Vanguard mending its damage with ease. “I commend this effort. And I bring this fight to a close.”
And for the first time, the Vanguard flared its wings, and Wei witnessed the birth of a small star infused with absolute destruction, absolute creation.
Comments
Brent Stinebaker
Added
Kai
Heads up that this one is missing from the collection
Terry
Just awesome!
luxrus
NOOOOOOO I NEED MOOOOORE
dethrothes
God I love your writing
The WR Hub
Subject - OstensibleMammal Mythical class - Deranged Author Eidolon - Sculpter of Cliffhangers
Mimic
Sick as fuck 👍
Brent Stinebaker
Climax for class evolution is incoming. Witness the birth of a martial monster.
