The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 102: To fear men

Mason summoned his Claw and pulled Rosa behind him in the kitchen before he realized it was Violet. His heart slowed and he activated Speak with Nature.

[What is it? Explain quickly.]

“Apologies, patron,” warbled the worm. “There are enemies coming. I thought you should be warned.”

Good God was it getting more articulate?

“What enemies?” Mason said, pretty sure now the worm could understand perfectly without the power.

“Orc fortress,” Violet said…and scented back. “They are sending an army towards this town. They are crossing the plains as we speak.”

Mason winced, not at all ready for a brutal fight or a deadly chase. First of all, he was naked and dripping. Second, he was fucking exhausted. He was about to ask ‘are you sure?’ when the ghostly text floated before his eyes.

[Objective gained: Lead the citizens of Sanctuary to Nassau. Earn settlement patron points for every survivor, with a large bonus if all survive.]

“What the hell is going on? What is that thing?” Rosa shouted, impressing Mason when she lifted a kitchen knife.

He took a deep breath and held her shoulders. “That’s Violet. She’s with me. I don’t have time to explain because there’s an army coming to kill us all, and we need to leave. Right now.”

The beautiful Mexican looked at Mason like maybe if she asked him nicely enough it wouldn’t be true. Then she closed her eyes and took a breath.

“I’ll go wake the others.”

Mason gave her shoulder a squeeze, and kissed her on the cheek.

“You might want to put some clothes on first.” He hiked up his pants then ran for the door. “I’ll get Carl and Silvie. Get everyone else however you can. We have to go, now.”

“Can’t we just…I mean, it’s got walls,” Rosa apparently did a lot of speaking with her hands when she was flustered. “Can’t we defend them?”

She held up her fists and it would have been so very cute if Mason wasn’t about to have the longest day of his life.

“No. The walls might work for animals, not something like organized men. Or at least Carl and I can’t defend them on our own.”

With that he was out the door, cursing his reduced city speed as he raced for the town hall.

The sun was already dipping on the horizon, and they had maybe a couple hours of light. Rosa was still getting her shirt on as she came out screaming like a banshee for the others to get up and come outside, and he couldn’t help but grin.

“What is it?” Silvie called from the chief’s hall before he arrived, still putting on a robe.

Carl stumbled out behind her in his underwear, blinking bruised eyes in the fading light and looking like a zombie. Then he flinched and pointed.

“Mason, behind you!” His shard-like dagger appeared in his hand before he squinted. “Oh. Sorry Violet. False alarm.”

Silvie and some of the other emerging women looked between Carl and the purple worm with equal concern and confusion.

“She’s fine.” Mason waved a dismissive hand. “It’s the fortress that’s attacking. You all need to gather your things. We need to run. Right now.”

He watched the battle rage in Silvie’s eyes—fear and shock and distrust against the cruel reality of believing him. She turned to her lover, a last desperate hope in her voice.

“Can we defend the walls?”

“No, darling. Not with two people.” Carl looked at Mason, and sighed. “Can we afford to take supplies?”

Mason shrugged and glanced at the wall. “Let’s take a look and find out.”

They both moved for the stairs, Carl blinking across most of the distance and actually beating Mason to the top. He stared out at the horizon in silence.

Mason stared at the obvious dust cloud rising from the rocky plain. It slightly obscured the enemy, but not enough. Hundreds of humanoids marched in ragged formation. To their sides, like cavalry, seemed dozens of giant snakes.

“What’s with this bastard robot and snakes or worms,” Mason muttered.

“So that’s a no on the supplies then,” Carl said and wiped his forehead, blinking tired eyes to try and force himself awake.

Their attackers were maybe half an hour away. And who knew if they just meant to take the settlement, or if they’d chase the people escaping?

Mason and Carl exchanged a look, then ran back down the stairs.

“Whatever you’re wearing and whatever you can carry in the next ten seconds!” Carl yelled as he rang some kind of digital alarm bell at the gate. “No time for anything! Just bring yourself and some shoes, and we’re going!”

The women came from all over the settlement. There were tears and angry or terrified faces, but the girls of Sanctuary still showed up. These were folks who’d survived the horrors of their tutorial and learned that terrible things could happen to them. It wasn’t a lesson a person had to learn twice.

Silvie was counting heads and scanning the group like an elementary school teacher, but soon nodded and looked to Mason.

“We’re ready. Do you think Nassau will take us with so little supplies to offer?”

He heard and saw the intensity of the emotion that went into those words, and he softened his voice, respecting the ‘mayor’ of Sanctuary a great deal.

“They will. And we’ll take it back, Silvie, one day. That’s a promise.” He turned to Carl. “Take them down the river, quick as you can go. I’ll send Streak with you. Just keep moving, no matter what.”

The older man raised a brow that implied he already knew the answer to his question was, but he asked anyway.

“What are you going to do?”

Mason thought about the wolves he’d chased away from Nassau. The feeling deep in his chest that maybe always existed for bullies, or maybe some robot had stoked or placed in a ranger’s chest.

“I’m going to teach them to fear men. Now go.”

Mason commanded Streak to follow Carl, then turned and ran from the gate without a second glance, shaking his head and blinking away his exhaustion.

Damnit Blake, he thought, if you can hear me somehow, send them help down the river. We may need it before the end.

He knew in his heart somehow, these bastards would follow them. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. They would want the settlement, no doubt, but they’d want the people more.

That was how Blake thought, and probably how roboGod thought. Survival and procreation. Wasn’t that the game? These things would want to end potential rivals.

So Mason would teach them the error of their ways.

“Alright, Violet,” he said out loud without his power. “You know the terrain. I’m guessing you know these orcs, too. Ready to kill some?”

The worm warbled and let out a scent that made Mason blink. It gave him a strange feeling he sometimes felt in the forest when he was running full speed. An urge to hunt, to kill. It smelled like blood.

* * *

Mason ran out to the plains, crossing some of the gap between himself and the enemy before finding a few boulders to hide himself. He lay three traps near some thistle, which promised a delightfully painful distraction when the time came.

His plan was relatively simple. Fill orcs and snakes full of arrows, lead them on a deadly chase all the way back to Sanctuary, and kill even more.

If the gate actually let him in, of course. If so he might even go up to the wall and shoot them from there before fleeing out the opposite side. But he tried not to get too far ahead of himself.

“Kill as you please,” he said to Violet, “but don't get yourself in trouble. Always protect yourself first.” The worm stared with her black eyes, but Mason decided she understood.

Waiting before a fight was never pleasant. Mason’s bladder squeezed and stomach gurgled and he slapped his own face to keep awake and alert. The enemy was close now.

Mason touched the boulder he was using as cover, and as he did the tattoos on his arms shifted and changed. He watched as the greyish color of the rock seeped into his skin, the pattern almost identical.

He looked down to see the effect had materialized all over his body, somehow even slightly to his clothes. Had he been naked, he realized, he would have been practically invisible.

Thank you, 'Makers’, he smiled, trying not to think about the event.

One problem at a time, Mason.

What else had the system said his Nature's Sleeves did? Druid spell components, right? And hadn't he cast a druid spell using a wooden stick as a 'component'?

At first he’d thought it was the gnoll shaman’s staff, but since learned otherwise. It was him, his mana—his power. He'd just pointed the staff, thought about activating it, and off it went. Could he do the same with his Sleeves?

It was certainly worth a try.

What exactly the range was he had no idea, but decently far. He could pick these orcs apart individually with his arrows, certainly. But for now they were clustered. Vulnerable. Better to hit them with a lightning bolt now with the element of surprise, then work away at them.

He could hear them marching now. He waited and watched, only his camouflaged face visible near the rock. Now that the enemy was close he could see them more clearly.

They looked like proper soldiers. Most carried uniform rectangular shields and spears. Others had smaller, round shields and carried an assortment of weapons. Mason knew enough about military history to recognize what you might call the ‘heavy infantry’ and ‘light infantry’ of a proper army.

And then there was the snakes. More God damn snakes. They moved on the orcs’ flanks like cavalry, but he doubted they'd be that fast.

A snake was quick over short distances, but surely couldn’t last very long. They also didn’t have shields, so he expected he could pick them off with arrows.

Lightning bolt at the orcs, then. As soon as they were in range. Then as many arrows as he could manage before they chased him out. A fighting retreat. A last stand at Sanctuary. Who knew how many orcs he’d kill?

He forced himself to wait until the force moved a little closer. Then he slid his arms forward along the rock and focused on his mana. He tried to remember the exact feeling of the lightning coursing through him, through the staff.

It started almost instantly. His arms locked into place, the tattoos glowing slightly to his eyes as the power surged in his chest. His mana bar rippled with something like heat and started to drain.

Let’s not overdo it, he thought. This was just the first battle and the first test. Best not to blow his whole pool.

He released the energy at about half. It seemed to take much longer than he’d expected and he had no idea why. Until the thing went off.

Apparently his mana pool had increased. A lot. The bolt seemed thicker, louder, nastier. The same smell of electrical fire filled his senses, the sound cracking like thunder as the energy released at the orcs.

But this one jumped. It lanced between the metallic weapons and armor of the first clump of orcs, blue light glowing and crackling in a checkerboard pattern through the creature’s ranks before exploding on the ground.

[Black Tower Orc heavy infantry slain x 2. Experience earned.]

[Title earned: Clever Conductor. Enhance a lightning spell using natural conduction. +1 to mental stats.]

Mason had no time to be pleased. The orcs (and snakes) roared (and hissed), panicking as some of those in the front collapsed where they stood. Other orcs were shouting for calm and for scouts and a ‘shaman’ to protect them from sorcery.

Mason lifted his bow, and started shooting.

Armor-piercing bullet arrows seemed in order. He kept to his rock and started loosing, smiling when his camouflage didn’t fade. The orcs were shouting again, still seeming surprisingly spooked for such an organized force. But they spotted the arrows soon, and the ‘light’ infantry came running towards Mason’s boulder.

They shot back with their own bows, or threw javelins or axes, but none with much accuracy. Mason kept on shooting.

One of his thistle traps went off and a few of the light infantry panicked, running straight away and rather unfortunately right into a second trap, which promptly exploded.

[Black Tower Orc light infantry slain x 2. Experience earned.]

Mason was grinning now as he shot. An axe flew past his shoulder, then he put an arrow in the thrower’s neck. If they wanted to exchange ranged weapons all day, he was happy to oblige.

[Apex Predator activated: elemental.]

Uh, what?

Mason’s rock exploded. Fire and shrapnel swirled and launched like he’d been bombed. His ears rang and he blinked through dust and falling debris, disoriented and clearly thrown several feet back from the boulder.

Orcs were still shouting and coming forward into the smoke, and Mason decided it was time to run.

With something of a stagger step, he moved up to near full speed as he ran straight back then looped towards Sanctuary. He spit and plucked several pieces of jagged rock from his skin, glad it hadn’t been worse.

Apparently the orc shaman was no joke.

But Mason soon recovered, and took his time. He hid in the high grass, he lay more traps, he shot more arrows at anything that followed.

He got several more kills but paid little attention, not truly running until the snakes started to chase.

The fuckers were faster than he expected. Of course they were. And when he shot a few arrows their direction, the bastards actually dodged.

Of course they did. Mason hoped Violet hadn’t gotten herself into trouble, then turned and ran for the walls.