The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 291: We might get lucky

Carl stared into his Simulacrum's eyes and winced. It was always a little creepy to see some kind of temporary version of yourself, or to wonder if this version had any kind of thoughts. Or how the hell it exactly worked.

He didn't 'control' it. It was more like it was literally him, and knew exactly what he intended, and therefore did exactly that. Which meant the power’s creator had to somehow make a version of him, or at least something that shared his brain, and didn't require conscious thought at all.

This was not a comforting idea to contemplate.

"Yes I'm fine," said Alex, still strapped to the stone altar. "No hurry. Please. Take your time. Untie later."

"Right." Carl cleared his throat and cut the ropes with his knife without feeling resistance. He glanced around at the room full of corpses, listened for more attackers, then helped Alex to his feet. The man was a little worse for wear, but seemed alright.

"Thanks." Alex grinned a little, which for the Belarussian was basically a full-toothed smile. "Very close."

"Oh, not really," Carl said with a shrug and a grin of his own. "I'd been watching for awhile. Thought maybe they'd say something useful."

Alex glared, and Carl couldn't help but laugh.

Of course the truth was it had been incredibly close. He'd only arrived because he was looking for Mason, following the sound of his lightning as he moved invisibly through the halls with Reflection. Then he'd heard some voices and checked into the room as much on whim as anything, finding Alex already strapped to the altar.

"Can you walk?" he asked, and the stoic man nodded and straightened up with a few cracks, pops, and groans.

"Careful, though, yes? Mana is low."

"Oh that's no problem," Carl grinned again. "I won't be getting any attention."

Alex winced as he looked away, his brain working a bit before he glanced back.

"I will be bait."

"Think of it this way," Carl said, slapping his arm. "With all that racket, we might get lucky, and they'll just ignore you completely."

The Belarusian stared with his now familiar, blank expression, clearly finding the idea of getting 'lucky' ridiculous.

"Well." Carl cleared his throat. "Probably Mason will have killed most of them before we get there."

Alex seemed to consider this, then gave a nod. They walked into the corridor, and Alex put his flower necklace around his neck and maybe mumbled a prayer. Then he started walking down the corridor as Alex turned on Reflection and vanished against the wall.

* * *

"Help us!"

Mason crushed another guard into the stone wall with a kick, then turned at the sound of Rebecca's voice. Streak didn't need any instruction. With a growl he released his latest victim and charged towards the pack of enemies between him and the voice.

With Fang Brothers active, the wolf had all of Mason's innates and passives. How exactly Transformation and Duality of Strength effected him Mason had no idea. But it was clear the wolf cared about taking damage even less than Mason did. And probably even sought it out...

It was also clear he smashed cultists and guards like a canine wrecking ball.

Mason followed in his wake, slashing at spears, arms and necks, really anything that stuck out. Between the two of them they took half a dozen stab wounds, but neither much cared. Mason had Shared Pain running and dripped with old blood, his wounds closing too fast to be bothered. He was kind of thirsty, though.

"We're coming!" he shouted, bashing a Sleeved forearm into a cultist's ugly face then ducking a spear tip. He came up slashing and cut off at least the thing's jaw, but didn't bother to slow down and look.

Streak was throwing his weight back and forth and biting at anything that got too close, and within seconds what had seemed a mob of enemies shrank and moved aside to let them pass.

"Where is your courage!" shouted a particularly incensed cultist, foaming from his huge, round mouth and refusing to back down. Streak body checked him on the way by, and Mason cut off most of his head.

Then they were through, and could see a giant, blue wall blocking the corridor ahead, and a large cluster of charred corpses at their feet. Becky and Seamus were side by side, bashing and blasting another horde of the guards and cultists.

"Where the hell are they all coming from?" Mason grumbled. Not that it really mattered. His heart leapt at finding Becky but he kept that locked behind practicality. "Have you seen any others?" he shouted, and Becky met his eyes a moment and shook her head.

She looked unharmed, and so did Seamus. In fact the fire wizard looked like a kid doing especially well at his favorite video game, jutting his staff and laughing as he especially lit the robed cultists on fire.

Mason and Streak finished their way through, spraying blood until the guards turned and ran the other direction. Then for a blissful moment the players were all safe and panting, smiling a little as they nodded to each other, and Mason pulled Becky in for a hug.

"Ew, yer completely covered in blood and...I think stab marks?"

"I'll..."

"...heal, I know. But good God don't y’all ever...I don't know...duck?"

Mason shrugged and gestured vaguely at Streak. He'd dodged plenty, thank you very much. And deflected quite a lot, too. The wolf on the other hand...

"Can you put down that wall?" he said. "I don't think the others are back that way. I checked most of the corridors except the main one. Also, there's a giant...undead creature chasing me. It's slow, but it's still coming. I think we want that way." He gestured through the barrier and Rebecca frowned.

"Um, maybe? I ain't never actually used it before...maybe if I just...concentrate...or...I dunno..." Becky seemed to try a few things mentally before she threw up her hands. "I don't see anythin' that would." She went a little pink. "I don't think I can, ya'll. Sorry."

"Walls break," Mason said with a shrug, then started slashing. His blades left little dents and scars, but after a few hits it was pretty clear he'd be there awhile. Like maybe days. "So, uh, how long did you say it would last?"

"Umm," her eyes glazed, face still fighting the flush of embarrassment. "Quite awhile…ain't there another way around? I mean, I saw a lot of hallways. This place is like a maze, so maybe..."

"It's a square, basically," Mason said, having seen enough to get the idea. "I'm pretty sure we're inside a pyramid. There might be a sneaky way around but I didn't see anything obvious. So we might just..."

The 'creature' that had been following Mason let out another horrifying scream.

Its echoes bounced along the corridor, repeating the terrible noise again and again as Mason and all the other players turned.

They couldn't see far in the gloom, no doubt, but Mason saw the thing clearly. Cultists and guards were swarming around the thing like infantry behind a tank.

"Too late," he said, banishing his Claws as he summoned his bow. "With me, Seamus. Start unleashing everything you've got. Becky, just wait until it's close. You have enough mana for a burst?"

"One," she said, stepping behind him with her shield, putting her free hand on his back.

"OK," he said, flipping through his Endless Quiver. "Stay calm. There's nowhere to go and nothing else to think about. We kill it. We kill them all."

His own words practically brought a smile to his face. No matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise, maybe the truest thing he'd learned since the world went to shit was that he enjoyed the mindless danger of a fight.

No running, no negotiating, no bullshit. No useless words or posturing. Just a simple test of reality—who could kill who first?

His mana was getting lower but he still had plenty of arrows before he was dry. He wasn't sure what the effective range truly was on this elven bow but it was definitely time to find out.

He pulled back the string in a smooth motion as far as he thought it capable, then released a fire arrow, hoping the light would help the others see.

The bow made a satisfying thrum, and the arrow streaked with incredible speed. He'd shot high, wanting some space to sink, hoping to just skirt the top of the hall. The damn thing hardly arced. It kept its power, finally striking the undead...giant ape...somewhere in the chest.

It didn't so much as groan.

"What in the name of Christ is that," Seamus said, holding up his staff. Mason didn't bother to answer. He just pulled back his bow and loosed a Power Shot, then a Crippling Strike, cycling through arrows and targets as he turned on Hunter's Mark.

Unsurprisingly, the giant…ape-skeleton-mummy, didn't have a lot of soft spots. In fact it didn't have any at all except for its joints, which only a desperate motivational speaker might refer to as 'soft'.

Mason was pretty confident his arrows weren't going to do much until it got good and close.

"Burn that damned giant," he said, to Seamus. "Give it everything you've got."

"Aye, chiefy," said the fire wizard, his eyes and staff both starting to glow. "Just don't say old Seamus never did anything for ya."

Mason ignored him and kept shooting.

But he went a little easy now, and mostly dropped the guards and cultists running out ahead. Seamus' channel went on quite awhile. When it finally finished the stink of arcane power wafted over everything. The air crackled and glowed, and a huge, floating bonfire appeared before the wizard. And launched.

A few guards and cultists threw themselves out of its path. Another one failed and basically incinerated as the thing flew right on through him.

It struck the giant with a huge explosion, fire crackling and sparking a range from bright orange to dark blue before it faded.

The giant emerged from the smoke without slowing, its skeleton literally glowing. Dead or dying guards and cultists lay all around it crying out in agony.

But the huge undead creature just kept lumbering on. Mason took a deep breath, and summoned his Claws.