The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 260: Phuong and Chillik

"Jason, Garet, hold the door!"

The warriors nodded and ran to the reinforced gateway with spear and polearm at the ready. Phuong trusted them and turned back to his task: slaughtering everything.

They were in a timed event and nearly at the end.

Phuong almost groaned with relief when his Adrenaline Boost recharged, because they had two minutes left to wipe out a whole damn barracks full of goblins, or reinforcements were certainly going to swarm them.

"Now or never Seul-ki," he muttered, watching John pound his way alone through another room of spear-armed goblins with nothing but his fists. The Korean stepped up beside Phuong and put a hand on his shoulder, her green eyes glowing as energy poured into Phuong's body.

The goblin soldiers themselves weren't the problem. But leading them at the far end of the room was some kind of defensive wizard that functioned much like Alex—blocking the players with shields and blasts of force. They also had some kind of constructs like Blake's, except these were basically just metal statues that carried shields and got in the damn way.

The players were wearing them down and certainly going to win. But their time was up. Because the system told them it was beat the initial force or 'face 'the entirety of the Prospectors' Soldiers.'

As Seul-ki's boost finished, Phuong re-summoned his Sword of the Way, ran past a bored looking Alex to John's side, and activated Adrenaline Boost. The world slowed to a crawl.

Phuong's speed was already enhanced with Improved Reflexes. But his 'Duelist of the Way's' ability to temporarily boost him felt like pushing the turbo button. And that was without Seul-ki.

He didn't need anything special for the goblin soldiers. With vicious cut after cut he slashed and butchered his way around the outside of the barracks, sword and arms moving too fast for his smaller, weaker enemies to react. He knocked aside spear shafts and short blades, taking hands and throats as he slipped right through.

Then the wizard's shield was shifting to keep the new threat away. But Phuong was waiting.

He'd noticed the magical force was directional—that the wizard had to focus on where he intended to block, and shifted it from side to side based on threat. Phuong turned and sprinted to get around.

He stopped attacking and narrowly avoided goblin weapons and bodies as he slipped through the room like a ghost. But he knew his Adrenaline was waning fast and he would only have once chance. He kept moving, watching a curved dagger whistle past his cheek, spinning as he weaved through two more and jumped high in the air to get out of the pack.

His timing had to be perfect. The iron constructs would be on him when he landed, so he activated his Way of the Sword: Stun from the air. It wasn't automatic. All of Phuong's Way of the Sword powers required a specific series of cuts, and the faster you could do it, the faster you could trigger the power. All that mattered was your speed and skill.

Phuong spent every spare moment practicing. Trying each pattern again and again, faster and faster. The Stun was the first pattern he'd learned, and felt as familiar to him now as running. As his body turned in the air he sliced a triangle then slashed it in half, and the always satisfying ping of success followed with a burst of power.

His 'Daoist' energy just skirted the wizard's shield, striking him directly. As it did, the wizard's eyes rolled, and he dropped like he'd been sucker punched.

Phuong landed on his feet, cut apart a goblin that thrusted a spear, then made for the constructs. They were tough, but without the wizard, they were still just things. Phuong activated his upgraded and enhanced main attack, now called Soul Slice, and cut the first construct from shoulder to hip.

He bowled the rest of it over with a shoulder slam, running past the other to get to the platform and stab the unconscious wizard through the heart.

It was too much for the remaining soldiers.

Most tried to flee in a growing stampede, with John smashing everything in range, growling as he clobbered the poor little bastards with increasingly reckless strikes. Those that made it got to Jason and Garet and ended up skewered.

Phuong chased and helped finish the job—even Alex and Seul-ki hitting or stabbing a few with a club and a knife. Then it was over, the room covered in corpses and blood, as the last few seconds ticked down.

[Eliminate Inner Barracks event complete. Group experience awarded.]

"Well done," Phuong nodded to the others and groaned as he took a seat. He'd learned Seul-ki's boost had a kind of 'come down' effect that definitely made him feel his age. Fortunately it didn't last long, but Phuong was happy to spend it sitting and catching his breath. He didn't look forward to the day it ended while he was still in combat.

"One more room," John said, though he needn't have bothered. They all knew the score by now. They'd learned the layout from the assassin Seul-ki charmed on the way in. It had helped them avoid the vast majority of their enemies, but the Prospectors were surrounded by their elite troops in the center of a labyrinth.

By the sounds of it, the Prospectors themselves were just merchants—not a 'boss' to fight, just the head of the snake to cut off. The 'real' boss fight, therefore, was their elite guard. And that was next.

Phuong looked at the group of players who'd followed him thus far, each proving themselves useful and capable here and some of them many times before. He grinned, feeling his strength returning already.

"Same strategy," he said, because it had worked for them so far. "John up front with me. Garet and Jason ready to make a safe zone. Seul-ki keep Alex charged. Alex...do your thing. I'll call for changes."

The others nodded, though they didn't really need the reminder. When it came to life and death, it was important to be clear.

Phuong grinned and stood, consigning his fate to karma in any case, not afraid to die now as he had not been afraid since he killed the men who destroyed his first life.

"Let's go."

* * *

Chillik, High Grandmaster Wizard Lord Supreme of the Greenblood Order, stared through the Seeing-Glass with his cousins. It seemed the Prospector Guild was about to be destroyed.

"The human was right," he said, losing the stomach to watch any more.

In their foolishness, paranoia and greed, the Prospector merchant barons had not even asked the Order for assistance. They had not sent any of their riches or secrets or artifacts. They had not tried to escape to hide in the deeper, more protected caves. They had sat upon their wealth as death came for them a room at a time.

His cousins cringed at the Seeing-Glass as he poured himself a drink of Orcish Sourbrew.

"I've always liked it," he said, mostly to himself. "And orc women are fine and fertile. Not to mention orc men are prudish and slothful."

"What nonsense are you speaking?" said Thraddik, the most powerful wizard save Chillik himself.

"Nothing." Chillik shrugged. "Just that in the towers we would likely be rich and fruitful. Not to mention well protected."

"You can't be serious?" Thraddik gaped like a fool and Chillik had lost his patience with the lot of them. He waved a hand and shut down his Seeing-Stone to get his kin's full attention.

"I am deadly serious, cousin. The human wizard was correct. We've grown complacent and greedy, corrupt beyond reason. Look how our allies fell so easily! Most of their warriors fleeing at the first sign of trouble! Their leaders bickered and turned on each other even as death stared them in the face."

Chillik wondered how many of his kin would remain loyal in the final moments. He had been wondering it for many days now. And he knew very well the assassins would not die for the wizard guild.

Oh they'd purge their lesser ranks, no doubt, and maybe the few Chillik had befriended over the years would come to his aid.

But maybe not. And if the humans had played their cards right, had tempted the hooded killers with coin and friendship, they may even have turned. They had always been more loyal to their greedy, murderous god than to their race, or to the Order. Many of their number weren't even goblins.

"This cave isn't worth dying for," Chillik said with some finality. "We have lost much. But not our lives. We will do as the human suggests. We will go to the towers."

His cousins made their drama.

But the moment they began Chillik could sense their hearts weren't in it. They had been bickering reflexively since they were sprouts, but they were wiser and more powerful than than they behaved, and they knew what Chillik said was correct.

Once they'd had their fill they sat in a circle and drank Sourbrew and ate dates and chewed mushroom paste for their nerves. But they had agreed.

"I have good dealings with the grey lord," said Billek, the youngest. "I never share with you greedy pigs but I've been getting the better brews for years."

Chillik nodded and smiled gratefully.

"You can't possibly trust this human wizard," said Thraddik, his face more sour than the drink. "He had the stink of mind magic, and wore a demonic charm. And he's a madman to have come to us as he did."

Chillik agreed with all of this and nodded along.

"Certainly not. We'll make our own plans, and get our hooks in the tower lords. But for now we have no other choice except kill the other humans. I think we will fail to do so. Thus, our answer is obvious. We befriend this 'Blake'. We take what we can. We wait. We see."

The others nodded and chewed their mushrooms, which were also made well by the orcs.

"It won't be so bad," Chillix said with a belch. "You'll see, cousins! We'll rebuild stronger than before. Maybe this is just what we needed. A new start for the Greenblood Guild! Without those greedy money-grubbers or too many of those lunatic engineers, yes?"

The high wizards gave a muted, ironic kind of cheer.