The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 103: Graak, Chief of the outskirts

Mason ran in a slight zig zag back towards Sanctuary, and managed to avoid getting hit by any arrows. As expected the snakes' burst of speed ran out, and they'd fallen back to their masters. Violet remained nowhere to be found. He guessed she didn't feel it was safe to attack with so many enemies close together, so he’d just have to make do on his own.

He decided to give up another ambush spot and ran straight to Sanctuary, too many eyes searching to reliable hide again. But he still had no idea if the gate would open.

As he touched the stone wall, he was rather surprised when a system message popped up.

[This settlement is currently empty of players, and has no patron. Would you like to claim it?]

Mason snorted, and thought yes, then watched as dozens of lists opened before his eyes.

[With 0 civilians, and 0 players, you have 100 initial patron points to spend on your settlement. Would you like to spend them now?]

Mason scrolled straight to defences, and grinned. The walls and automated crossbows were built in and still active, some kind of built in feature of the town. But what else could he afford?

He scrolled through several categories and quickly saw the answer was almost nothing. Slightly improved sections of wall? Not helpful. Decorations? Great. An unarmed guard tower caught his eye. He could get one for each side of the square walls—half concrete, half steel, enclosed with several slots for archers. Yeah, that'd do just fine. He picked it.

[Settlement changes will employ in 1 hour. Please remain inside the buildings.]

Mason winced at the message. An hour? Yeah, not going to work. He searched the options, hoping for some kind of ‘safety override’, and sure enough, a nice red button.

[Are you certain you wish to ignore the settlement safety procedures? This could result in negative consequences, up to and including a horrible death by crushing.]

Yes.

[Buildings deploying. Please do not stand near the construction areas.]

Mason stood back and watched in awe as the entire wall began to slightly re-shape. The towers formed out of the concrete and stone, metal fusing and collecting from the air with a violent crashing and hissing. In seconds, two new towers existed from nothing.

Mason dropped three traps outside the gate, then shook his head and stepped inside 'his' settlement. He climbed up the ramparts, all the way to the new tower, looking out at the approaching force through his arrow slit.

The orcs would find their ‘prize’ hadn't been totally abandoned. One man defended it still.

* * *

Graak, Chief of the Outskirts, growled and turned on the grumblers until they silenced. Some of the raiders who'd been badly burned by the caster's spell wanted to turn back home.

"Go if you wish," he rumbled. "But you will wear the traitor's brand by morning. Teeok," he turned to his clan’s eldest shaman, "can you protect us from their magic?"

"Yes, chief." The old orc scratched his chin. "If they wield the storm again, I will protect us."

"There," Graak roared at his raiders. "Mighty Teeok will protect you. Are there any other cowards who'd rather flee?"

They said nothing, of course, so Graak pushed them onward. He had won the right to take this settlement by order of his uncle, Overlord of the Blacktusk clan, and so he would do it, or he would die trying.

"Ready the ladders, and aim true. These monkeys are clever. They will put archers on the walls."

They marched on, and soon saw all the fortifications clearly. Graak clenched his teeth and looked at his scouts.

"You never mentioned towers."

The usually competent young scout captain shrugged and paled slightly. "There were no towers, chief, I swear it."

Graak believed him, but the problem remained. And if there were new towers that meant the defenders intended to use them, and hadn’t fled as he’d believed. Did it change his attack plan? No.

He had been watching them for many days and knew these humans had few champions. Their women and slaves might try to defend themselves, but it would make no difference. He had a hundred warriors. They couldn't stop him.

"Tuvek, East flank,” he growled. “We take two walls at the same time."

"But,” the usually hardened warrior swallowed and looked from his chief to the shaman. “Teeok can't protect us both from their sorcerer, chief. We’ll be defenceless."

Graak growled and spun on his clansman, tired of his people’s superstition and cowardice when it came to magic. "Then your destiny is in the hands of the gods. Now go."

Tuvek obeyed, and took his warriors.

Orcs were usually fearless in battle, but magic frightened them. They believed to be killed by magic prevented reincarnation—a true death rather than a rest in paradise and a return on the great Fist’s command. Graak wasn't so sure. He expected it was just a lie to help the shamans and lords control their warriors. But he didn't question such things out loud.

An arrow streaked from the closest tower, missing Graak by inches and striking the shield of a warrior behind. Graak cursed and lifted his shield, and his warriors followed.

"Slow march," he ordered angrily. "Stay in formation. Protect the shaman. Then we scale the walls. They can't stop us."

He was close now. Very close. A reward, finally, for years of faithful service to his scheming uncle. When the settlement was his, he would bring his mates and children and live apart from the endless politics of the towers. He could almost taste it. Only a few human champions in his way, then freedom.

* * *

Mason's plan was not going well.

The orcs had practically formed a shield wall, their heavy infantry protecting the others as they marched in tight formation to the wall.

He tried to shoot legs and pick off any stragglers to the sides, but the creature's had broad shields and linked them well. It was a hell of a lot of effort to stop one archer, but Mason was starting to think they expected a real fight. Operation ‘Make Orcs Fear Men’ was thus far not a thrilling success.

But then he did have one more lightning blast…should he use it now and go the entire withdrawal without mana? They were so damn packed together…he couldn’t resist…

Then the orcs split into two groups and he cursed his delay. One moved for the Eastern side of the wall, just as slow and just as locked in defensive formation. Well. He could still zap one.

The snakes had stopped a considerable distance from the walls, probably what they thought was out of bow range. He knew he could still hit them, but the damn things were so fast they’d probably dodge his arrows.

Mason was still worried about Violet but there wasn’t much he could do. A few arrows and javelins bounced and deflected against his tower, but the tower was too well made. Still, once the orcs were at the wall, he wouldn’t have much of an angle and would have to step out to shoot the climbers. Kind of a bad design, he thought, but then it was only 100 points.

Nothing for it, he decided. Time to cook a little more orc flesh. He shot at the stragglers on the edge until the closest group had truly clustered together. Then he stepped forward and started to charge his mana.

A few arrows bounced off the stone near his chest, one actually coming through but deflecting off. He looked down at the orcs and noticed a thin, green mist surrounding them, but had no idea what that meant. It didn’t matter now. He couldn’t stop the spell, and a few more seconds was all he needed…

Dirt sprayed from the center of the orcs. A flash of purple, then a splash of red. The orcs were growling and roaring as they turned towards the disruption, and Mason felt his mana draining to near empty as he tried to hold off long enough for the worm to escape.

“Shit..” His body was trembling now. “Why did you attack now you damn, stupid…” he couldn’t hold back, and he didn’t want to waste it. He loosed the bolt straight into the center of the orcs, the thunderous roar bouncing off the walls and echoing even worse than usual in the stone tower.

[You have slain Black Tower Orc Heavy Infantry x 5. Experience gained.]

Again the blue energy crackled and leapt through the orcs in a brutal flash of light before discharging. The creatures screamed in terror, with at least half turning to run flat out from the walls, tossing their weapons to the ground. Others charged ahead, following what was now a clearly massive leader covered in metal armor.

Mason went to shoot the bastard in the chaos.

[Not enough mana to activate Endless Quiver.]

“Shit.”

Mason had yet again forgotten the damn power took mana in a settlement, and apparently he’d utterly drained himself.

The automated towers were shooting now, at least, but they likely wouldn’t do much. Mason glanced to the right and saw the second group of orcs weren’t slowed or distracted, and now clanged against the wall with what sounded like ladders. There were at least forty of them.

He looked down at the blood, bodies and arrows littering the ground, and decided it would have to be good enough. More arrows and javelins were rattling off the wall, and he was doing nothing just standing there without arrows. It was time to go.

He turned and fled the tower, taking the stairs off the rampart two at a time then sprinting towards the far gate. Orcs were gathering at the top of the wall to his right, shouting and pointing down as he ran.

As usual he’d also mostly forgotten about his reduced speed in the settlement, too. He was still moving fast, but compared to usual it felt like running through water, or with a rope around his waist.

Bolts and arrows zipped and struck around him as he reached the gate, pain searing the side of his head as one apparently deflected off his skull. Then he was out, and running, straight for the nearby trees.

[Settlement abandoned. You will lose your patronage in twenty-four hours, or as soon as another patron lays claim. Do you still wish to abandon it?]

The message didn’t bother him. He’d certainly had no intention of keeping it. Sooner or later he’d be back with Blake and more players just to teach these orcs what happened when they took human settlements. But not today.

He wasn’t sure how many of the creatures he’d killed. Twenty in total, maybe slightly less. Enough to bloody their nose, but not enough to stop them.

He only hoped he’d harmed them enough they didn’t think much of chasing him or the civilians any further.

But a cold feeling tickled his gut as he considered another possibility. As he moved towards Carl and the others, he glanced back, wondering if this system made creatures more like animals, or like men. And sometimes men didn’t care about logic or reason, but revenge.

He took a deep breath, and wiped at the blood dripping down his scalp.

Stay behind your walls, he willed, feeling the exhaustion return now as the adrenaline died. Be happy with your stupid prize and leave us alone.

But if they didn’t, he’d be waiting in the trees.