The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 128: Shaman Slayer

The element of surprise proved exceptionally effective for Blake's mind controlled orcs. While their fellows were still staring in something like disbelief, his minions crossed the room or threw axes or knives, splattering blood and causing a chorus of wounded shrieks.

Blake just watched from the safety of his flesh shield, focusing on the occasional orc to give a quiet cheer. Blades and broken chairs stabbed and crashed as bodies fell. Roars of outrage and mortal battle filled the previously peaceful eating hall.

It seemed many of the orcs weren’t warriors. Through something like sheer luck Blake had mind controlled a table of real fighters, and they mostly hacked their way through the riffraff with ease save for a few exceptions. Plenty of orcs just turned and ran from the room, and Blake didn’t bother trying to stop them.

Then all was strangely silent. Blake's minions had slaughtered their brethren in reasonably short order, and with only a few losses.

[Fifteen Stoneblood Clan Labourers killed. Experience gained.]

[Three Stoneblood Clan Warriors killed. Experience gained.]

[You have reached level 7!]

Blake practically sagged with relief, then pulled up his profile to deal with his level right away. Of course he also had the slightly pesky problem of eight surviving Mind Controlled orcs currently surveying the damage they'd done.

"I knew young Torlak all my life," said one of the orcs with a voice full of emotion. "I cannot believe he turned traitor."

"Nor me," said another. "Brack there was my cousin. A proud warrior with a proud name."

Blake winced, unsure exactly how the magic worked but knowing it wasn't all powerful or consuming. Just like Mental Influence or indeed naturally convincing someone with words, if questioned or considered too deeply the story could fail.

He quickly scanned the list of new level options, then froze. It wasn’t a power. It wasn’t any kind of choice at all. His vision blurred and spotted as some kind of warmth seemed to move up and down his body like a wave.

[Anomaly discovered. Escalating analysis tier. Referral to Admin subsystem. Error. Admin subsystem attention denied. Standing by… … … Standing by… … …]

[Additional power offered to replace admin enhancement. Please select your new power immediately.]

The system messages practically crackled with jank, and Blake felt his eyes narrow. Something was wrong here, very wrong. He had already suspected ‘roboGod’ was more complicated than just a single entity that decided everything.

Then his dungeon locked in some insane event? Now his level was being…manipulated? The ‘admin’ system being ignored? Blake was no fool to the games played by powerful elite. His parents were movers and shakers and he was a baby elite in training. There was something like politics at play—thinking beings picking favorites or trying to change results.

But there also wasn’t a damn thing he could currently do about it, so he locked it away somewhere else in his mind. He wasn’t sure exactly what had just happened, but at least a list of powers appeared before his eyes. They’d decreased considerably since changing from Arcanist, but the number was still decent, and he had new choices. And as he saw one his heart began beating faster.

Mind Veil: Become whatever others will believe.

It was something like...well, like Seul-ki. Except he doubted his was illusion, exactly. Somehow he knew it was the ability to change how others perceived him, using their own minds against them to make it right. Blake suspected that made it far more powerful, and his intuition told him it was the ticket to his salvation...

The orcs were gathering now, inspecting the dead as they raised angry or mournful voices.

"Where is the servant of king?" shouted one. "Tell us more. What is betrayal? Who are you? You look…you look…"

Blake felt his time ticking down. Mind control seemed currently to override the obvious question of 'why should we believe a word out of your mouth?'. But he expected that wouldn't last long. He needed a better story. And fast.

His human form was a major problem. Why on earth would he be a human? And who did orcs work with in this world? Did roboGod pull from Dungeons and Dragons? Lord of the Rings? World of Warcraft?

He continued hiding behind his meat-shield as he swiped through the powers, but he was out of time. It was now or never, and he selected Mind Veil with his eyes, feeling it inject him with new knowledge. Then he stepped out from behind Smith and activated Mental Influence just to gain the speaker's name.

"You’ve done well, Hamak," he said, then lowered his voice as he looked at the dead. "I know it is hard. But traitors cannot be allowed to live." He saw the increasingly skeptical and angry stares moving up and down his very human body.

"The betrayers are working with the human champions!" he shouted. "They are here. Now. Outside the tower slaughtering us. I am a servant of the gods, sent to advise the king. I used my magic to infiltrate the humans. But this is my true form."

He activated Mind Veil, no idea what it would actually make him look like. His gem drained of more warmth but wasn't quite cold, and he squeezed it with gratitude. The orcs went wide-eyed. Some gaped with open mouths.

"Are you a shaman?" asked the speaker in a hushed tone.

"Are you a spirit?" shouted another.

"I am a servant of King Gromsh," Blake said. "That is all you need to know. Serve him faithfully now, and earn your reward."

He felt renewed belief sweeping through the orcs and tried not to slump with exhausted relief.

Now it was time to get all these fellows killed. It wouldn't do to have creatures alive who knew what he looked like before, after all. Mind Control wouldn’t last forever.

"Our work isn't finished," he said. "There are many more traitors at the forge, and even elsewhere in the tower. Ready your weapons, brave heroes. We must kill them all. For the king! For the gods! To the death!"

The orcs gripped their weapons with determined stares and clenched jaws.

"Follow, er, Smith!" Blake shouted. Then whispered in his first servant’s ear. "Take them to wherever there are many, many orcs. Attack everyone in sight. Do not stop."

Smith grunted, then started moving up the ramp, and Blake's Mind Controlled minions followed. He waited until they were all gone, then went about the corpses and found a new cloak and some new clothes and a couple daggers. Then he turned and went down the ramp, grinning when he heard the first shouts of battle above.

* * *

Mason hacked apart his tenth or eleventh shield. His Claws were breaking them apart but it certainly wasn't a fast process. He'd also been stabbed twice by spears in the chest. The wounds were shallow, but they still fucking hurt.

It was hard to see how the others were doing but they hadn't started screaming in agony so that was a good sign. Having said that, they couldn't very well tell him they were wearing down without also telling the enemy. Several dead orcs lay around the tunnel entrance, but there were still a lot bloody more.

Mason could hit them with another blast of lightning, but he needed the timing to be right to break their morale. At least he hoped he could break their morale. And anyway he suspected the green glow from the shaman's spell would protect them, especially since it had been the one enemy Violet killed in their first encounter.

Wait, Violet…she’d done it once, could she do it again?

He needed that shaman dead, but he was hidden behind a wall of shields. Mason hacked at another orc’s shield and stepped back, pleased for once when the creatures didn’t follow. He activated Speak with Nature and touched the ground.

[Violet - I need you to kill that shaman, but don't linger, he's well protected, just get the hell out of there.]

The worm couldn't answer him underground, so Mason just stood and watched. The orcs stared back at him with wary, obvious fear, and didn't approach unless he attacked. He swung his Claws back and forth and grinned.

"Ready for another round?"

The answer was a very unhappy, resigned no, at least judging by the orcs expressions. But Mason charged and started hacking.

Two of the four that met him had less than half their shields left. Still, they used these with surprising skill, able to block everything Mason swung at them except a well-aimed Predator's Strike. He used this and got inside one's reach, splitting the lightly armored gap in his armor at the shoulder joint, dancing away from the spears that counter-attacked.

The orc roared and fell back, and another took his place.

"Come on," Mason muttered, trying to step around the orcs but always finding another line in his path.

With his ever-increasing senses he focused on his friends, hearing Rebecca panting and maybe muttering she needed to rest. But it could have been his imagination. Anyway they had Alex, too. Plenty of players. Mason trusted the others to hold.

He kept the pressure on the orcs before him, trying to distract as much as possible. Then he felt the ground tremble, and grinned.

Dirt sprayed behind the orc line. Shouts of surprise and alarm followed, and a desperate thrashing and burst of movement. Mason stepped back and lifted his arm. He focused on near every scrap of mana he had left, aiming at the largest cluster of orcs.

He counted, trusting Violet, needing Violet, to do her work and escape. His power had almost finished, but he couldn’t stop it now.

Come on, damnit, come on!

The green aura dropped almost exactly as Mason released.

The now familiar crash of thunder echoed and boomed off the tower walls as the flash of lightning smashed into the orc line. Mason opened his eyes and smiled at the sight of a dozen of the creatures off their feet, writhing in agony, their formation blasted to ragged pieces.

Mason charged straight into the gap at the orcs facing his friends. Before he'd even arrived, Carl blinked there first, turning and slashing the creatures from behind in methodic brutality. Then Mason was on the other side, both tier 1 players cutting into the unprotected rear of their enemy.

The creatures realized their peril. Some turned, getting chopped down by the others. Most broke and ran.

The orcs at the gate were way ahead of them, already fleeing back behind their walls and running towards the portals beyond screaming about magic and a dead shaman. Mason didn't let them go peacefully.

He and the previously trapped Streak chased with a vicious growl, using all their speed to bring down fleeing orc after fleeing orc, taking mostly legs so they'd fall and could be dealt with by the others.

They chased every orc back to their tower. Mason turned to find Violet still un-earthed, wounded several times by spears and swords. He put his hand to her and activated Speak with Nature, and the worm stared with its black eyes and warbled.

[I am alright, patron. But I must rest in the earth for a day again to heal.]

"Go." He smiled. "We're going to have to start calling you Shaman Slayer." He pat Streak. "And Ankle-Biter."

He looked back at the others, momentarily filled with pride until he remembered Blake was trapped in the tower alone. He grit his teeth and looked at the inside of the next tower, speaking mostly to himself.

"There has to be another way inside."