The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 278: Training facility

Mason found a few players inside the training hall already. It looked like Tommaso and Garet were in a kind of square-tiled basketball court, moving from square to square as they attacked pop-up bullseyes and other targets around the 'court'. They flashed with green or red at hits and misses, making various beeping and screeching sounds.

The whole place was filled with similar 'courts' and devices, most of which were currently dark and inert. Mason stepped forward and turned as he inspected the huge, mostly open building. It was unbelievably sci-fi looking, with curved, plastic-like ceilings and walls covered in panels that looked like they had some function.

"How in the hell do I even know what I'm supposed to..."

"Welcome, sir." The image of a young man in a plain, blue uniform flickered and solidified a few steps in front of Mason. He looked more or less human, except his eyes were completely white. "Can I assist you with something?"

A drop down 'menu' of options flickered beside the hologram's head. It said 'Training', 'Reports', 'Programs', and 'Rewards', and Mason practically groaned. Apparently today was the 'completely overwhelm Mason with all the things' day. He had the urge to turn around and walk out, then put Phuong in charge of dealing with it. But with a sigh he clicked his way through the list.

'Reports' seemed obvious enough. He could look at the results of any of his people who used the building's training tests, with a kind of pass/fail system that could then dig down into a huge range of details of how the person performed.

'Programs' was apparently a huge series of pre-generated tests escalating in levels from one to fifty. And Mason couldn't help but grin when he scanned it, because apparently completing them generated actual experience. And possibly other things. The 'completion rewards' ended at level ten, and just went blank with question marks.

'Training' had all the individual tests themselves, which Mason and anyone else could apparently just select and do, but didn't get any system 'benefit' for except practice. 'Rewards' was empty, but seemed to exist for Mason to fill—a kind of patronage system to reward his people for trying the tests or programs, with options to reward even if they tried and failed.

With a final shrug he selected training, scrolled down the list to something pretty far down, and followed a little blue line that displayed on the floor. It led him out into what of the larger courts, then flickered with light until Mason realized he couldn't see anything outside.

'Initializing Test 142: Brawl. Test begins in 5 seconds. Good luck.'

Mason rolled his shoulders and summoned his Claws, not sure he'd mentally prepared for whatever this was. There was absolutely nothing but empty space, so he assumed it was going to pop up targets or training dummies like he'd seen with Garet and Tommaso.

Dark shapes took form all around the edges of the court. They looked like moving shadows, then they flickered with color and definition, and before he'd even raised his swords a whole host of monstrous creatures growled and moved towards the center of the court. Except for some kind of giant beetle-man that turned at Mason. And charged.

"Jesus Christ."

He got his feet moving and shook his head to wake himself up. This sure as hell wasn't target dummies. He didn't know if this thing could really hurt him, even kill him? But it sure looked like it could.

As the huge, half-beetle, half man lowered its hammer like head and charged, Mason dodged to the side and slashed his longer Claw across its carapace covered hip. He struck something hard, sword slicing in and breaking through to the other side spraying blood. Well, goo.

The damn thing wasn't just some hologram. It had substance and form and Mason's wrist still vibrated from the force of the blow. He spun and dodged an awkward swipe from the thing's claw, then charged at the off-balanced creature and swiped with both blades again and again, ripping the thing's torso apart until it collapsed. And vanished, just like that.

A huge orc-like humanoid with a club had smashed its way to the center of the court and began flickering with light.

‘Central square claimed. Timer begun. Thirty seconds until defeat.’

Mason winced and spun his swords. Apparently 'Brawl' meant king of the hill. He looked at the other creatures now moving towards the giant orc, still warily eyeing each other. He didn’t know if this 'test' was real and actually posed any kind of actual threat. But it was amazing.

Mason grinned and charged with Aspect of the Cheetah. He slashed a big, ugly ogreish creature's hamstring en route, then ran straight past the orc. It growled and readied for him, but he dashed to one side and sliced, taking off its club hand at the wrist with a vicious Predator's Strike.

The orc roared and turned in surprise, more interested in revenge than its wounded arm. But it realized it was now disarmed and reached down to pick up its club.

Mason lunged and hacked through half its neck. The orc gripped at its throat, then fell, and vanished. Mason stepped up to the center.

‘Central square claimed by player. Timer begun. Thirty seconds until victory.’

Mason felt a little flicker of excitement shoot through him as the rest of the monsters turned. He still didn't know if this was real or not, or if he was playing some game within a game. But the 'real' game was to the death, and he had to assume this was too.

A part of him wished that didn't make it more exciting. But it did.

"Come on, then. Come and get me," Mason muttered and spun his Claws. All the monsters charged.

* * *

Naya soon changed her mind about talking to her people. The twenty that hadn't accepted their new house immediately had all gathered together in the same house and Naya couldn't get any of them alone. She needed Mason with her when she spoke to them.

So after a brief mental struggle she went out to find him, asking the closest humans she could, none of whose names she knew.

"Saw 'em go that way, miss, to the big new training hall there," said a man who in elf terms would have been a few hundred years old, but for a human was likely far younger.

Naya bowed her head in thanks, then walked on as she heard a few nearby listeners start saying things like 'Is Mason doing training? Can we watch?'

She walked on, figuring out what to say, still feeling plunged into uncharted waters in this human settlement. And in her upcoming marriage. And for basically handing over what remained of her house.

Though she was technically joining herself to a man, to these people, and gaining an alliance that would protect her, in a way she had never felt so alone. Her entire family was gone. Her way of life was gone. All the people and everything familiar had been replaced with the burden of leadership and an alien world.

Despite Dariya’s objections, she'd known she had no choice but to gamble everything on Mason, as she'd gambled everything on this journey. Her people had been cowardly for too long, and she knew she must be brave.

"This way! Hurry up!"

A group of humans ran past Naya towards the training hall. Her own city had something similar, she knew, though it was far smaller than this. Naya felt their enthusiasm and hurried her steps, chasing after them until she'd reached the door. She went inside and gaped at the huge, foreign design that looked more arcane in origin.

She knew humans were capable of almost limitless affinities, but to experience the difference so quickly and so close to the natural surroundings outside was jarring.

"Holy shit, there he is, let's go!"

Naya followed the few humans to a row of seating that overlooked the training ground. A dozen or so stood in a line, pointing and cheering.

Then Naya saw Mason.

He was inside the courtyard surrounded by beasts, and he was covered in blood.

"What the hell number is this anyway?" said one of the humans. "Gotta be at least a hundred."

"One forty-two," said another, and the first man whistled.

Naya covered her mouth as Mason got raked by claws down his back. He spun and cut the thing's head half off, then again to meet some other new monstrosity Naya didn't recognize.

"Why doesn't he just stay in the middle?" said one of the humans.

"Uh, because he'd get killed?" said another.

An older man snorted and shook his head.

"No. He reset timer. He doesn't want to end."

Naya looked again at her 'betrothed', who moved in and out of the central light as he sprayed blood in every direction. The beasts had given up any pretense of fighting each other, circling him and trying to keep away from his blades.

"Why would he do that?" Naya heard herself mutter. The humans all turned with surprised and maybe slightly embarrassed looks. The older man cleared his throat and smiled at her a little. It seemed an unnatural expression for him.

"Our patron, he like, practice, miss. Keep sharp. Keep...ehhh...ready."

Naya felt the half-truth or maybe lie in the man's voice, just as she saw it out there on Mason's blood-covered face. She thought back to the centaurs, to his words when he'd gotten angry negotiating their contract.

She realized then that he'd meant every word.

This was not some elvish prince she'd chosen. She knew that. But as she watched the man smile as he ripped out another creature's throat, she maybe felt it for the first time.

He was a killer, just as he said. A creature of blood and violence, perhaps like the other men who watched him kill and cheered with victory. Humans and elves were different, she knew that, but this was hard to watch.

She needed these people. Needed them desperately. She knew that perhaps they held the secret to renewed life for her kind. But she also feared she knew the reason elvendom had fallen into decay, and the reason these short-lived creatures gloried in the violence they saw.

They loved life, perhaps. But they also loved death.

Naya shivered and flinched as her soon to be husband killed the last beast, and the training program flashed green with victory.

"Son of a bitch just killed 'em all," said one of the humans with a laugh.

Mason stepped from the court with his clothes ripped to shreds, skin covered in blood and sweat. He blinked as the lights returned and he could obviously see his spectators, grinning slightly at the men before seeing Naya.

His smile faltered and he nodded, the killer vanishing just as quick as it came, seeming almost...boyish again.

Naya knew she should be afraid, and perhaps was. At least a little. But another piece of her—a piece she was struggling to deal with or acknowledge—was also excited, and desperately wanted to hurry the wedding day…