The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 98: Mirror Blade

"Well that can't be good."

Carl tried the door and found no handle, no lock, nothing.

"Mason!" he shouted, hearing only the echoed sounds of his own voice. With a sigh he turned back towards the blue floating sphere, and what looked like a jagged piece of glass.

"Alright." Carl stepped closer and swept the room for danger, but saw nothing else except the altars and the two items. When he'd stepped onto the platform with the altars, a voice boomed as if from a loudspeaker.

"You stand in the hall of the Makers," it intoned in a deep, sonorous tone. "What makes you think you are worthy?"

"Uh." Carl felt sweat drip down his brow. He hoped it was more 'Last Crusade' then 'Monty Python.' "I'm here to protect others," he said. That was true, wasn't it? Pretty much. Sure, it was also to impress Silvie. And maybe somehow to not get old and weak and die without having done anything worthwhile in his whole life.

"I mean that's…not the only reason," he shouted, then felt rather stupid as his voice echoed around the room. "I mean I didn't even know it would be like this." He added, then cursed under his breath. "OK just shut up and get the orb, Carl, it's pretty clear what we're doing here."

He squinted and turned slightly away as he stepped closer. When nothing terrible happened he moved with a little more confidence, step after step to the glowing, blue orb. Now that he was close he couldn't help but notice how beautiful it was. In fact it wasn't even really an orb.

More like...a perfect, blue breast. It looked so soft...so inviting. Probably wouldn't hurt anything if he just gave it a little squeeze, would it? He'd figure out how it worked right after...

[Orb of Transcendence activated. Receiving unique Prestige Class based on all available data. Please do not drop the orb.]

"Oh." Carl's body froze, and fire lanced through his arm and down his chest. He couldn't scream. So he squeaked. The loudest, girliest, squeeling sound he had ever produced, which echoed for second after long second in the tiny hall.

When it was finally over, and his body more or less returned to him, he wiped the drool from his lips and looked around. He hoped whatever 'Makers' had wanted to test him hadn't heard that.

"Oh Christ I've pissed myself," he realized. "Why would it do that?" he looked at the theoretical robot God in the sky. "Come on!" He squished in his wet shoes, then looked up at the text floating before his eyes.

[Congratulations, C-876-2. You are in the first group of players in the world to obtain Prestige Classes. Title earned: The Prestige. +2 to all statistics.]

[Unique Prestige Class formulated: Mirror Blade. Implementing.]

[You have gained a Prestige Class! Mirror Blade. +2 to all statistics.]

[Power synergy discovered! Stealth has been upgraded to Reflection. You don’t hide in the terrain. You are the terrain.]

[Unique class power gained: Simulacrum. Two is better than one.]

[Title gained: Powerful friends. You gained a prestige class before earning a secondary class. +2 luck]

[Title gained: Phase jumper. Gain a title intended for a later phase in the Great Game. +1 to all statistics.]

"Holy shit!" Carl grinned, looking at all his gains. Then he felt a little queesy, then like he'd just eaten a tub of icecream. In about a second. Through his nose.

"Not again, I swear to...ahhrggeee." He fought the squeel. He really did. Then the blue tit-orb that frankly just looked like an orb now shattered and broke into shards that vanished into his hand. How long it went on he had no idea. Seconds felt like minutes of agony, then it was all over, and Carl was himself again, panting in the blue gloom.

"Fuck you," he muttered miserably. "I mean that." But after several long breaths he reminded himself about the prestige class and all the upgrades, and came back to himself with a grin.

"Mirror Blade, eh?" He smiled as he inspected. "Missed an opportunity there, robo-G. Could have called it 'Glassassin.'" He beamed at his own pun, rather dismayed no one was around to hear it. "I'll save it," he said to himself. "Everyone will love that joke."

What exactly his new powers did he had no idea, but he couldn't wait to find out. He cracked his neck and took a few steps, then practically stopped dead in his tracks. He pulled up his profile.

Between the titles he’d gained just on entering the dungeon, the new level, plus the prestige class boosts, his gains had been absolutely huge. Also secondary class? What the hell? He didn’t even know that was a thing!

He flexed and jumped and spun in a circle, feeling his body react with such balance and strength he could hardly believe it. He felt twenty years younger. No, he'd never been this strong or flexible. Incredible! With a new hop in his step he walked to the shard of glass and found it had a handle. It actually looked like some kind of knife.

"Alriiight." He licked his lips and rubbed his hands together like Indiana Jones in the Temple of Doom. "Now do I just...lift you? Do I need a bag of sand?" He stopped smiling and glanced straight up. "Don't you fry me again! I swear to...well, you, I guess. Please just don't. I mean there's no need for it, right? I accept I am an ant, and you are a kid with a magnifiying glass. OK? So let's just...skip the part where we…" he trailed off and snatched the handle as quick as he could, hoping maybe he could somehow trick it.

Then he squeezed his eyes closed and braced himself.

[Item gained. Mirror Blade. Nothing cuts as close as the truth. Would you like to attune it?]

Carl opened his eyes.

"Ha!"

That wasn't so bad, he thought. It looked flimsy as hell so he hoped it didn't break on the first thing he stabbed, but… "I trust you robo-G," he shouted, "I trust you!" He mentally clicked yes on the attunement, turning back towards the door he expected would open afterwards.

[Attuning weapon. Please don't attempt to drop it.]

Carl's body froze. “Oh, no, no…” he almost managed to curse before he squealed.

* * *

Mason sat outside waiting for Carl. He scratched Streak's ears while he waited, then had to rub his belly when the wolf flopped on his side and whined in pleasure. "You're probably full of worm eggs," he said with a grin. "You're probably going to shit worms for a month until we can clear it up. If we can clear it up."

Streak did not look worried. He kicked his leg and lolled his tongue with his eyes closed, licking his own giant worm stained face.

Violet just stared from her position by the pool. Mason had no idea what he was going to do with her exactly. People were already scared of Streak, Violet would outright terrify them.

[Do you want to stay here? To live here?] Mason asked with Speak with Nature.

I go where you go, the worm warbled. Duty. Honor. All.

This was one complicated annelida, that was for sure. Mason sighed and looked back to see the Arcane Affinity door finally open. A somewhat worse for wear Carl walked out like he'd bruised his tail bone, little steps all the way down the blue lane.

"You alright?" Mason raised a brow and inspected his partner. "You look a little...wet."

Carl cleared his throat, then turned and leapt in the pool.

"There was a, uh, water test," he said when he came up. "Almost killed me. What about you? Get anything good?"

"Sure did." Mason held up his tattoed arms then grinned as he turned to Violet. [Can you dig us a path to the surface?] he asked with Speak with Nature, noticing his mana bar was far less affected. Was that just because he was getting higher level? Or because of Gaia's Avatar?

The worm crawled towards the wall without any response.

"No time for lollygagging," Mason called to Carl and Streak. "Violet's taking us out. Get a move on." Then, a little while later: “So? What did you get?”

Carl grinned and held up what looked like a piece of mirror. “I'm a Glassassin!”

“Uh, what?”

Carl frowned as if disappointed. “Well. I was a ‘Shade’ before, which is a sort of upgraded Rogue. And now I'm really a Mirror Blade. But, you know, like an assassin. With a glass blade. Hence, ‘Glassassin’. You get it?”

“Assassins kill people with guns and poison,” Mason said.

“What? No, I’m like…a dark elf from warhammer. No? You don’t know…they...look, plenty of assassins use knives.”

“Shitty ones,” Mason said, and Carl shook his head.

“Nevermind. I'm speaking to a cultural luddite. It's wasted on you. The others are going to love it.”

“My brother might.” Mason rolled his eyes. “You guys can roll some dice and drink some mountain dew.”

“Really?” Carl’s eyes lit up. “Does he play D&D? I’m old school. Been playing since first ed.”

Mason hoped his contempt showed properly on his face. “Maybe we should climb out of the Devourer’s hellhole in silence.”

They followed Violet’s slanted tunnel, half hunched, half crawling the entire way. Mason tried not to imagine getting buried alive again, though nearly laughed out loud when he considered dying to dirt after everything.

“I'm never going underground again,” Carl eventually panted behind him.

“You say that like we chose to break through the earth and plummet hundreds of feet down.”

“I’ve learned my lesson.” Carl coughed and made a slight shout as he maybe slipped. “Do not follow Mason. Stay in town.”

Mason had to grin at that. Thankfully Violet finally turned, so at least if they somehow fell they wouldn’t tumble and slide down the entire length of the tunnel. Then she just went on climbing again, dropping considerable dirt back into Mason and Carl.

"I'm not sure I could have done that without you,” Mason said when they took a little rest. “So thanks for coming."

"Don't mention it, kid.” Carl grinned. “Can't let you get all the glory, now can I?"

“Don't worry.” Mason smiled. “I won't tell the girls you pissed yourself.

The older man started to go red. “I told you, there was a water test!”

“That smelled like human urine?”

“Well,” Carl cleared his throat. “How do I know what they had in their water. I mean...”

“You should drink more water, Carl, it shouldn't be that strong.”

“Well. Enough rest.” Carl made for the tunnel and Mason held back his laugh. They crawled in silence awhile, both lost in their own silent endurance of misery until a light finally broke through ahead.

They both climbed with renewed energy, Mason with an almost panicked need to get out, to get anywhere but in his endless, tiny circle. They finally emerged back in the rocky plain, both Sanctuary and the orc fortress in sight, nothing else of note around them.

Mason straightened his back and groaned as Carl dropped to the ground and kissed the dirt. Streak clambered out of the hole and shook himself, flinging dirt in every direction as Mason and Carl swore and covered their grimy faces.

They exchanged a look, and Mason suspected he was as completely filthy as Carl.

“Let’s never do that again,” he said. Carl smacked him on the shoulder, which shook out yet more dirt and had them both coughing.

Then they turned for Sanctuary, and hopefully home.