Let’s be honest: This is an RPG Maker game (or similar engine). Don't expect Octopath Traveler. However, v1.51 introduces a few new CGs for the main story events that are genuinely evocative. The winter palette—grey snow, dark wood, faint red blood splatters—sets the tone perfectly.
The music is where it shines. The main title theme sounds like a lost track from Berserk (1997). It’s melancholic, lonely, and makes you feel the weight of the crown before you even click "Start."
As always, support the developer if possible. Version 1.51 is available on the official DLsite page and the developer’s Patreon. Be cautious of third-party sites – many host outdated versions (v1.47 or v1.49) mislabeled as 1.51.
Final Verdict: Leane 2 v1.51 is currently the most polished version of this cult classic tactical RPG. If you enjoy mature storytelling and grid-based combat, now is a great time to jump in.
Note: If the "-Com..." in your title refers to a specific "Complete Edition" or "Community Patch," please reply with the full title, and I will refine this post further.
Players manage a kingdom with the goal of unifying a continent through conquest. Commanders:
The game features over 60 unique commanders that players can recruit and lead into battle. Among these, 13 are primary female commanders who feature prominently in the game's narrative events. Multiple Perspectives:
Players can choose to start their journey from one of three different countries, each offering a distinct storyline and starting conditions. Key Systems Harem & Political Pressure:
A central mechanic involves the "King" of the selected country demanding female commanders join his Harem. Players must navigate these demands while his "Royal Guards" actively pursue these commanders on the world map. Tactical Combat:
Battles require careful management of units and commanders to prevent losses against enemy forces. Version 1.51:
This specific update often refers to community-driven patches, including English translations and "Unofficial patches" that refine the game’s balance or content. Setting and Mechanics Fantasy Strategy / Simulation / Adult. Windows PC.
Exploration of a continent filled with warring factions, internal political struggles, and a heavy emphasis on "NTR" (Netorare) themes through the Harem and Royal Guard pursuit systems. walkthrough for a particular starting country? Makenshi Leane 2 | vndb
Leane had never liked ceremonies. The pomp and measured bows, the slow procession of silk and gold—each step felt like a secret being rehearsed for an audience that never asked her opinion. Yet here she stood in the marble antechamber of Castle Navarre, a thread of late winter light slicing across the floor, waiting for her turn to become the thing everyone else had already decided she must be: an heir.
She was eighteen in the strictest counting of years and the loosest of attitudes. Her hair, the color of tarnished coin, was braided and wound into a knot that failed to contain a single rebellious curl. Her cloak, dark as riverbed silt, bore the sigil of the Legitimate Crown: a circlet of five thorns and a single sprig of laurel. It had been her mother's the night the conclave sealed Leane's claim and her father's the morning he signed the charter that handed power to bloodlines rather than councils. It smelled faintly of beeswax and ink—authority made domestic.
A page cracked the heavy doors open. The hall beyond was not silent; it hummed like a hive. Old lords and younger captains, merchants in soft leather and clerks with ink-stained fingers, all leaned forward as if being told a joke they were not yet permitted to laugh at. At the far end, beneath banners sewn with emblems of past kings and a fresco of a founding battle, the throne waited: a chair carved from a single ash tree, its arms shaped like branches and its back etched with the rivers that fed the kingdom. It seemed smaller than the stories had promised.
"Leane of the Legitimate Crown," intoned the herald. His voice was the sort that had been practiced until it stopped belonging to him. "Step forth."
Her steps did not rush. Each echo felt more important than it should. Faces lined the hall like stars in a sky she didn't recognize. She thought of the map her mother had kept rolled on the kitchen table: thin blue lines for rivers, thicker charcoal for roads, the capital marked with a dot she could cover with her thumb. She thought of the market where she had once bartered old amethyst beads for a loaf of bread, and the way the baker had told her not to dream too big; that the world was for those with both hands clean of blood and pockets heavy with coin.
They spoke of duty in the centuries-honed phraseology of court. She listened as names were intoned—seven pledges, three oaths, the sealing of rights. A velvet cushion was offered, an emblem placed upon her palm: the signet ring of the crown, a loop of twisted silver with the same laurel sprig. It was colder than she expected, and heavier.
"Do you accept this burden?" asked the Chancellor, a woman whose hair had dwindled to ribbons of white.
"Yes," Leane answered, surprising herself. The word tasted like foraged apples: tart and honest. It did not mean she accepted what others would expect of her; it meant she accepted the place the room gave her, if not the script written on its walls.
The crown settled on her head—simple, made of iron tempered till it shone like the brains of eels—and the hall offered a thunder made of polite applause. The ritual ended the way rituals do: with signatures recorded and a baker's boy hoisted on shoulders outside in the square. Life, everyone assumed, would now proceed according to the found lines of power.
But Leane had learned—between chores and cheap wine—that paths could be redirected by a single pebble rolled into a stream.
Two days after the ceremony, a courier came with a message wrapped in brown paper and sealed with wax stamped in the shape of a crown and a serpent entwined. The seal was not of any lord in Navarre or of the High Council; the ink smeared at the edges as if written in haste.
It read simply: When the snow melts, so will the truth. Meet me at the old watchtower at dusk.
Beneath, a single initial: "J."
Leane folded the paper once, twice, then placed it in the same pocket that held a small iron key—her mother's, perhaps to a trunk or a box of letters. The choice to go was not a choice at all. A ruler who never learned the secret language of shadows risks being blind where it matters most. Leane 2- Leane of Legitimate Crown -v1.51- -Com...
The watchtower sat on the northern ridge, a ruin of another age when watchtowers had been erected to see more than approaching armies: to see the slow changes in weather, in trade, in rumor. Leane approached under a sky the color of unbaked bread. She had shed her formal cloak for a wool one that hid the lines of the crown better. On the path, she met a boy—no, a man—no older than twenty-five, with a scar along his cheek that had been kissed by a sword once and left pale.
"You're late," he said without warmth.
"Was I meant to be early for secrets?" she replied.
He laughed once. "Jorren," he offered. "You should wear gloves with that crown."
Jorren had been a name at the market, a smuggler's rumor, a captain of an exiled crew; now he stood with a lantern and a map. He placed a curious object on the ground between them: a compass, but not for direction. Its needle spun not for north, but for consequence—an old folktale said such a device pointed toward the nearest lie.
"How did you…?" Leane asked.
"Thieves have a long memory," Jorren said. "We keep ours for when kings need us."
He spoke then of fissures beneath the surface of Navarre: a guild of tax collectors skimming more than excise, a treaty with a northern baron signed in haste and sealed with promises of grain yet to arrive, a pair of court priests who favored the words of foreign kings. He sketched plans on dirt and told her where to listen—at the docks, beneath the baker's crate, in the singing voices of the market girls. He knew where the threads tugged and where they had been cut.
Leane listened, and when he finished, she felt a curtained part of her mind opening. She had been crowned to continue a continuity, to be the peg in the wall upon which the tapestry hung. But the tapestry had been stolen from its frame in several places. She could pretend not to see.
"Then fix it," Jorren said.
"How?" Her laugh this time was sharper. "With what army?"
"With what you can gather," he said. "You have authority. It buys faces and opens doors. You also have a few things you were born with: people who trust you, and the stubbornness to outrun a lie."
They formed a plan that was less about rebellion and more about unweaving a lie. They would not storm castles or spill blood. They would expose small, verifiable truths—ledgers hidden in bakeries, cargo manifests smuggled from a noble's chest, a priest's letter left in a confessional. Each revelation would be small and undeniable, a series of pebbles rolled into a stream.
The first pebble was simple: a shipment manifest. Jorren's crew lifted it from a locked chest in the manor of Lord Halven, an ally publicly loyal to the Crown and privately thin-fingered. It took all of Leane's face-to-face pleading and a promise that no names would be named to convince the manor's housekeeper to hand it over. The manifest listed grain paid for by royal coffers—grain that had not arrived in the eastern villages but instead moved to Halven's storehouses under fog-black nights.
She published the manifest the way a crown could not have: she read it aloud in the granary, to workers and farmers whose bellies had felt the pinch, their hands black with flour. Men who had once bowed and muttered now shouted. The chittering started. The miners of the east closed their gates. The smiths refused to repair the wagons bound for Halven's estate. A ripple became a wave.
The second pebble was a confession left in a church. A priest who had once thought his ties to a foreign court would be advantageous found a letter rerouted into the arms of a cantor who loved truth more than his stipend. The cantor delivered it to Leane in a whisper beneath vaulted stone. The letter was tender as a betrayal, full of promises of influence and a coin-count that placed ministers in the pocket of men beyond the sea.
Each revelation increased pressure on Lord Halven and those allied to him. They accused Leane of theatrics. They called her a populist; they called Jorren a bandit. They called for trials and formalities, confident that time and legalistic delay would suffocate the outrage.
Leane answered with more pebbles. A ledger here, a corroborating witness there. She preferred facts; they were hard to refute. She learned—the hard way—how to wield rumor as a blade without letting it sever her own hands.
The Chancellor watched, silent. Some of the council feared change; others feared being proven wrong. The court's machinery hummed again but with a new note: dissonance. Old allies abandoned Halven. Merchants rerouted convoys. The baker who had once warned her about dreaming too big now placed free loaves on his windowsill with a note: For those who chose to stand.
As spring grew teeth and then blossoms, the pressure found a crack. Halven fled in the night with a chest of coin and a retinue. He sailed for the northern baron who had promised him asylum. The baron, when shown Halven's deeds and the letters, shrugged and returned the man to Navarre in chains rather than alliance; he preferred a quiet neighbor to a conspirator.
Victory, if such a thing could be named, arrived quietly. There were no triumphant banners or songs written for the occasion. There were, instead, small restorations: grain redirected to the stores of the eastern villages, a reformation of the tax rolls, priests recalled for questioning rather than promoted by secret handshakes. Leane presided over panels where commoners were asked for their testimony. She sat at long tables and listened to stories that had rarely made it past closed doors.
She kept the pebbles for herself—a collection of slips and ledgers bound with twine in a box beneath her bed. They were reminders that power, when honest, needed constant tending. Jorren stayed, too; he taught her to read maps the way one reads a person's intentions. The Chancellor, brow furrowed, found in Leane someone both foreign and oddly necessary. The crown sat easier now; it felt less like a mask and more like a set of tools.
Months later, in a garden hedge trimmed into the shape of a crown—an eccentricity of the court gardener—Leane and Jorren sat with cups of tea that steamed in the early evening. "You could have done it differently," Jorren said. "You could have burned them all down."
Leane chewed the rim of her cup's handle with a careful quiet. "I could have," she said. "But I would have been the one to keep the ashes."
He smiled, then turned serious. "Do you ever worry they'll try again?" Let’s be honest: This is an RPG Maker
"Every spring," she answered. She tapped the box beneath the bed, where the pebbles lay. "So I keep listening."
Years later, the story of Leane of the Legitimate Crown would be taught to children as a lesson in cautious courage. They would pin it between tales of wars and love, and call it a chapter. They would say, sometime after she died of old age with a crown of wildflowers instead of iron, that she had been wise. They would not say how often she walked the market at dusk, or how many letters and ledgers she carried beneath her cloak, or how she called the baker by his given name when she needed a favor.
Truth, she had learned, was not a monument to be erected once and admired. It was a habit, small and stubborn—like rolling pebbles down a stream—until the current remembered the shape of its bed and followed it again.
Title: The Chronoclysm of the Forgotten Sovereign
The cursor blinked in the empty console bar, a steady, rhythmic heartbeat against the black backdrop of the command terminal. Rain lashed against the window of the archive tower, blurring the neon lights of the lower city into smears of electric blue and pink.
Elara leaned forward, her breath fogging the glass of her retinal display. She typed the final sequence, her fingers trembling over the haptic keys.
> EXECUTE: "Leane 2- Leane of Legitimate Crown -v1.51- -Com..."
It was an anomaly. A ghost file buried in the deep sectors of the historical mainframe. Most people knew the legend of Leane the First, the Warrior Queen who united the fractious states of the Iron Age. But history had forgotten the Second. Or rather, history had been edited.
The screen flickered. A sharp hiss of static filled the room, and the air pressure dropped, popping Elara’s ears.
> LOADING ASSET... CORRUPTION DETECTED... ATTEMPTING RECOVERY...
The text dissolved into digital dust, reforming into a viewfinder. Elara wasn't looking at code anymore; she was looking through the eyes of an observer. The smell of ozone vanished, replaced by the scent of wet wool, burning torches, and cold stone.
The year was 302 of the Old Calendar. The Great Hall of High Keep was freezing.
Leane sat upon the Stone Seat, her posture rigid, though her muscles screamed for rest. She was younger than the portraits of her mother, her face less hardened, her eyes holding a clever, calculating sharpness rather than a warrior’s fire.
She was Leane of the Legitimate Crown—the title was both her shield and her burden.
"My Queen," the steward stammered, bowing low, his forehead nearly touching the flagstones. "The... the delegation from the Southern Reach awaits. They demand to see the Seal."
Leane smoothed her skirt. The fabric was heavy brocade, dyed the deep crimson of royal blood. "They demand," she repeated softly. Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the murmur of the court like a blade. "Interesting word choice for men who kneel."
She stood up. This was version 1.51 of the timeline, a recursive loop that Elara was only now beginning to understand. In the standard history books, Leane the Second had simply vanished, assumed assassinated or fled. But this file—this 'version'—told a darker story.
"They do not believe the Crown is legitimate," whispered her advisor, a grizzled old man named Kaelen who had served her mother. "They believe the bloodline diluted."
"Then we must remind them that legitimacy is not merely blood," Leane said, her gaze drifting to the corner of the room.
Elara, watching from the digital ether, saw it too. A glitch. A shimmer in the air, like heat haze over pavement. It was
Leane 2: Leane of Legitimate Crown is a country-conquest style strategic fantasy simulation game. As the sequel to Makenshi Leane, it expands on the original's mechanics with more nations, commanders, and a specialized "Harem System". Core Gameplay Mechanics
Strategic Conquest: Players aim to unify a continent by commanding a selection of over 60 different commanders.
Branching Stories: At the start, you can choose from three different countries, each offering a unique story path.
Commanders: Of the 60+ commanders, 13 are main female characters who can be part of your army.
Harem & Threat System: In your selected country, a "King" will demand your female commanders join his harem. Royal Guards will actively chase these commanders across the map; if caught, they are forced into the King's harem, which can lead to birth/heir events. Key Characters The game features a large cast, including: Leane: Main character, voiced by Inukai Ao. Note: If the "-Com
Beatrice: Main character with waist-length blond hair and blue eyes, voiced by Masaki Phan.
Other Heroines: Includes Carla, Chloe, Cynthia, Marion, Muriel, Nora, and Seria.
Antagonists/Others: Side characters like Dorothy, Ludwig, and Manzur appear throughout the campaign. Version & Release Info
Version 1.51: Represents a refined build of the game, often found in complete editions or major updates.
Age Rating: 18+ due to erotic content, including "defeat NTR" (Netorare) mechanics where heroines may be lost to the enemy if defeated or caught by guards.
Developer/Publisher: Often associated with the doujin group Makura Cover Soft or Cleanfeel. Summary Table Genre Strategy / Fantasy Simulation / RPG Campaign Length Approximately 10–20 hours depending on playstyle Playable Factions 3 Starting Countries Total Commanders 60+ (13 unique female leads) Visual Style 2D character art with optical censoring for erotic scenes
For additional details or community guides, resources like VNDB and specialized gaming forums provide deeper insights into optimal strategies and character builds. Makenshi Leane 2 | vndb
Table_title: Main characters Table_content: header: | Beatriceベアトリス | | row: | Beatriceベアトリス: Hair | : Blond, Waist Length+ | row: Makenshi Leane 2 | vndb
Leane 2: Leane of Legitimate Crown (also known as Makenshi Leane 2) is a fantasy-themed, country-conquest strategic simulation game developed and published by Cleanfeel. Originally released in late 2018, the game has seen several community-driven updates and translations, with version v1.51 representing a refined state of the title. Core Gameplay Mechanics
The game blends tactical strategy with visual novel elements, focusing on continental unification:
Strategic Simulation: Players manage resources and military units to conquer territories across a fictional continent.
Commander System: You can recruit and lead over 60 different commanders, 13 of whom are key female characters with unique storylines.
Campaign Variety: The story changes based on which of the three starting countries you choose, offering distinct narrative perspectives.
Real-Time Tactical Combat: Battles utilize a "Real Time with Pause" system, allowing for strategic depth during active skirmishes. Story and Characters
The narrative follows a protagonist who is betrayed by a king and must gather allies to seek revenge.
Main Heroine: Leane, voiced by Inukai Ao, serves as the titular character.
Antagonist: King Baroque is depicted as an arrogant and dishonest ruler who actively seeks to capture the player's female commanders for his harem.
Supporting Cast: Key characters include Beatrice, Carla, Chloe, Cynthia, and Seria, many of whom have dedicated character routes and endings. Adult Content Features (18+)
As an adult-oriented title, the game includes specific "H-systems" that are integrated into the strategic gameplay:
Prisoner System: Female commanders can be captured by enemy forces if defeated in battle.
Harem/NTR Elements: The game features "Netorare" (NTR) mechanics where Royal Guards may chase and capture female commanders for the King's harem.
Dynamic Outcomes: These events often lead to specific gameplay consequences, such as character corruption or pregnancy.
For those looking to dive into the tactical layer, there are community guides available that detail how to prevent unit losses and navigate specific character routes like Seria's path. AI responses may include mistakes. Learn more Leane of Legitimate Crown Genre - Fantasy - War/Battlefield
this caught me off guard an ULMF user, MetroidSuperFan just finished an English translation of Leane 2: Leane of Legitimate Crown. Facebook·HRPG Enthusiast Makenshi Leane 2 | vndb