The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 301: When you die I’m taking that knife

Mason found his prey in a burning ruin. The dragon stood on several small limbs, back half of its long body near the ground, front half raised like a snake ready to strike. Its crippled wings hung at its sides, only one able to tuck back, the other dangling and broken. It turned in circles breathing flame.

Phuong, Carl, and Streak all stood behind a stone building watching. Phuong gestured at Mason and they all looked at him with some version of determined grin.

"The others?" Mason mouthed. Phuong shrugged.

Mason knew Becky's shields weren't as good against magic, but he refused to believe she'd been knocked out of the fight in the random destruction. It would take a lot more than that to bring his girl down.

He assumed she was still en route and would be here shortly. But he had no intention of wasting time.

As usual, first things were first.

He had only ever really tried to use his new power ‘Strength of the Pack’ with Becky. It was supposed to function like 'Fang Brothers'—giving less powerful versions of his passives and possibly innate items to his group members.

After the failure with Becky outside, he'd expected it only worked when he had a formal 'group', not able to work out in the 'real world'. And he’d seen it worked at least a little with her before. He hoped it worked for the others just as well. He activated it and watched.

This time it was obvious. He watched the power light up with a green glow, and several powers and items. Transformation and Duality of Strength both slightly pulsed with green, and that would have been enough to make Mason happy. But his Sleeves and Claws lit up, too.

With that out of the way, it was time to announce himself. He touched a burning building and activated his Sleeves, then stepped out with his bow and loosed a Power Shot straight at the dragon's open mouth.

It was a good shot. But the arrow reached dragon-fire and vanished, the beast carrying right on as it circled and burned everything in sight, seemingly not interested yet in moving position. Mason growled and followed his Power Shot with a series of full draw careful shots at the dragon's neck, legs, and head.

By the third arrow the dragon roared and spun in faster circles, eyes narrowing to barely open slits as it searched. Its tongue flicked out just like a snake tasting the air, and soon it turned right in Mason's direction.

"Shit," he muttered.

"I'm going to eat your soul!" the dragon roared as its dozen legs carried it forward.

The stink of arcane power filled the air, and some kind of blue-tinged shield surrounded the dragon as it half slithered towards him. Mason shivered as he watched the thing move. Why did it always have to be fucking snakes?

He loosed one more arrow, incredibly unsurprised when it hit the blue shield and bounced away. It must have been a power the thing could only use on the ground.

Apparently it was time for sword work. No doubt the idea should have terrified him. But as usual the thin color of his fear mixed with a darker excitement, until only the dark remained. With a very inappropriate grin, he summoned his Claws and charged.

Streak was out a second later, Phuong and Carl not far behind. They ran at the dragon's sides as Mason went straight at its front. He could sense its pleasure at actually nearing its target, but also its surprise and indignation that he would try to stand his ground.

The dragon's head was a good twenty feet high. It lunged as if to strike, then stopped its movement entirely—legs, body, and head all frozen as the thing inhaled and breathed straight at Mason.

He could have dodged. He probably should have dodged. But the longer it focused on him, thought it was killing him, the more time he gave the others. He popped his Shield gem and held his ground.

Heat and light became his world. The air seemed to vanish, the act of breathing impossible as the flames struck him with a physical force, then curled around his shield and sprayed like he'd been hit with a water jet. The seconds ticked, and his gem's power vanished with awful speed until it was very nearly drained.

Mason finally turned and rolled as the gem flickered and faded. He activated Inner Fire, no idea if it would help, and Aspect of the Cheetah to run like hell.

The flame stopped, then started again, following him in spurts and blasts until the dragon roared and the flame died entirely. Mason grinned, and ran towards it.

He found the creature finally turned, lips curled back as it lunged and tried to bite a target on its flank. It even flapped a damaged wing and swung the back of its body like a tail. Mason winced as he saw Streak go flying.

Fiery missiles came blasting from the top of a nearby building, sizzling and exploding as they struck the dragon's head a half dozen times. Mason grinned and closed, leaping at the thing's upper body in its distraction. He roared and struck with Predator's Strike, sinking his shorter, piercing Claw into scale and flesh, half the blade vanishing into the dragon.

It shrieked and swung, the strength and speed so violent even Mason couldn't hold on. His sword ripped out and he dropped with a flip, running straight back to where the dragon's body met the ground to slash and cut.

But his longer Claw couldn't piece the thing's scales. He unsummoned it and just used the shorter one to stab like he was trying to prison shank a dragon.

The beast roared and tried to bite something that wasn't Mason, so he just kept stabbing. Scale broke and green blood slopped to the ground, but the thing was so large it would take all day to die. Mason knew he had to get at vitals.

Ignoring the small voice of caution, he dug in his fingers and started to climb. It had plenty of grooves and was rougher than expected, so he had plenty to grab unless the thing twisted and threw him off. But it seemed busy, probably with Carl.

Mason pulled himself up the thing's side with ridiculous speed, getting to its back before summoning his Claw again and driving it in just to anchor himself. He glanced up and practically had a heart attack when he saw the dragon dive down and eat Carl.

The clone or illusion or whatever the hell it was exploded in the dragon's mouth, and Mason let out an exasperated breath. One day Carl was going to die and Mason wouldn't have a God damn clue.

"Heya kid." Carl apparently warped up beside Mason, appearing out of nowhere before dropping to all fours with a slightly pale face. "Oh I regret this. Yeah this is crazy."

"Of course it's crazy!" Mason yelled. "Now get your balance and start knifing its head before it kills us all!"

"Right. Knife the dragon's head. On it."

Carl tried to stick his weapon into the dragon like Mason to hold himself, but the damn thing was too sharp and cut through scale like it cut through everything else. As the beast turned and lunged forward, Mason held on. Carl flew right off.

"Be back later!" he called, then vanished in the air with a blink.

"God damnit, Carl," Mason shouted after him. "When you die I'm taking that knife!"

Flying waves of Phuong-power were striking the dragon's flank like a set of drums. Streak growled as he clawed and chewed at the thing's rear.

But Mason couldn't do a damn thing for anyone. He just kept stabbing and working his way towards the thing's head, hoping the others could keep away from the terrifying jaws.

The dragon apparently wasn't thrilled with the situation. The sky once again shimmered with arcane power, as more floating lights formed like the ones he'd been raining down to destroy the city. As he was the only person now standing on the creature's back, Mason couldn't help but think they were mostly for him.

He winced, deciding to at least take a few before he decided if it was time to run.

Half a dozen of the ‘stars’ slammed into his chest. Apex Predator flared with several elements. But more importantly, he saw a window of text flash in the chaos of light and pain.

[Enemy affinity removed: Draconic.]

The dragon's arcane comets blasted into its own flesh. Mason held on to his Claw, turning and taking hits around his body like a slow-roasting piece of meat. Pain practically overwhelmed him, but by now he'd taken enough punishment to have a sense for just how badly he was being damaged.

It was burning him alive, but it wasn't pulling him apart. And Mason could burn a long time.

He kept stabbing, no longer concerning himself with the battles of others. There were terrible roars and maybe people screaming. Or were those bird calls?

Mason didn't care. There was only his sword driving into dragon-flesh, his target still visible in the haze of fire and smoke with Hunter's Mark. Then he was at the back of the dragon's head.

It twisted to face him, eyes flaring in the haze, jaws open as it tried to angle itself to bite him.

The falling lights stopped, and Mason knew why. It knew it was hurting itself, and its head was vulnerable. It thought Mason was afraid to get near its jaws, but it was wrong. He jumped straight for its mouth.

The teeth closed but not fast enough. Then Mason was inside on a huge, slimy tongue, the stink of rot and heat and death. He jammed his blade straight into the roof of the thing's mouth and pushed with his whole body as the jaws closed.

The dragon screamed and tried to crush him, driving the blade into its own flesh. Mason knew it could breathe. It could stop and roast him alive with that terrible fire.

But first it had to stop and think.

It had to ignore the many creatures trying to kill it, ignore the hated foe inside its mouth driving a weapon towards its brain. It had to fight its instincts to bite and kill the thing in its mouth.

It bit.