The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Mason stood with dripping fangs, the dead heart of a second undead planar lord still beating in a clawed hand. He crushed it in his palm with a wet squish. The creature’s small army of blood-golems sunk to the ground.

[Second Doom personal event score: 102. Keep it up!]

Two down. Eight to go.

These planar lords didn’t frighten him. Though dealing with them alone was one thing. Fighting several during a pitched battle, or fighting a planar lord while fighting a champion...that might be something else.

Shawk screeched happily from above, and two pieces of elemental slop fell from the sky. They splattered close enough to Mason a few drops hit his face. He looked up with a glare as the eagle whirled away.

He checked his timer. This one had taken a lot longer to deal with than the first. It wasn’t hard, but the damn thing had just kept reforming and reforming as it went down. He didn’t have time for another. It was time to get back to Nassau.

He flew like a madman, and was halfway when the first messages came in from Chinua in the east.

Holy city under attack. Armies forming from south, east, and west. No portals observed. Defenses ready.

Mason debated teleporting, but saved his beacon charge. He had no idea if he’d move far enough away from Nassau later, but he sure as hell didn’t want to need it and not have it. There was still time for now. Chinua hadn’t asked for help, and the forces would likely gather until the timer ended.

And he had his own problems. He saw the armies coming for his home as Carl started messaging. A black mass he’d thought was a strange horizon until he moved closer.

Shambling armies of walking corpses were gathering all around the great forest, coming in groups both large and small. Mixed among them were planar creatures of every variety, still stepping out of thin air with no visible portals, as if walking straight from their own planes with no barrier.

Hundreds of centaur warriors were below at the edge of the grasslands watching. Some picked off targets, loosing arrows at the army, fighting little skirmishes. He saw more of the enemy forming on the grasslands and moving south—away from Nassau.

It looked like Nighteyes wouldn’t be able to help him much (though distraction was helping). His people had their own problems.

He flew closer, finding some gargoyle-like creatures soaring above the forest, chittering to each other.

He exploded the first with a Power Shot. The others turned and stared with wide eyes, then screeched and scattered as they flew towards the army. None made it.

To the east, not far from where they’d first attacked the humans at Sanctuary, he saw an orc army. There were thousands of them moving in good order, blocks of infantry and snake-riding cavalry.

A few months ago, it would have been a frightening sight. But compared to the massing enemy now arrayed against them, they seemed like a small scouting party. And there was even a decent chance they were coming as allies. If so, he hoped they madeit to Nassau. For now at least their route looked clear.

He was tempted to just charge straight into the enemy then and there. To make an even unholier mess of that endless parade of evil. And he would. Very soon. But first he wanted to talk to his people, make sure they saw him ready and defending them, and give everything one last check.

He flew over the swelling tide until he saw the great tree at the heart of of Nassau. He’d seen it hundreds of times, of course, but something about it struck him this time. It seemed suddenly proud and strong, jutting above the forest, unafraid of being seen. Of standing alone.

The tree’s mind hadn’t developed much in the past few months. It was still something like a child, usually just lost in thought, responding to its nymph protector. But he felt it with One with Nature—felt the awareness of a threat. Of an immature but very much not harmless reaction of anger.

A strange but natural magic was pulsing from it. Moving through the soil. Mason was the avatar of one natural god, had been the avatar of another, and was blessed by every ancient druid. But he had no idea what it was doing. Since it couldn’t say much more than a few words, and that usually took longer than Mason had, he just flew on and hoped it was helping.

“Report.”

He landed next to Carl and a dozen player and civilian helpers working by the Nexus beacons. Most of them jumped. A few civilians literally shrieked in panic before going red when they realized it was him. His Chancellor closed his eyes and put a hand on his chest.

“It’s not a great time for a heart attack, kid. Why not just land and walk up and say hello like a human? Call that an official request if we live. Greet Carl like human.”

Mason stared until the man rolled his eyes.

“The report is that we’ve moved from a role-playing game to the final level of a tower defense. There’s a fucking horde coming. I literally stopped the scouts from giving more reports because I get the God damn idea. We’re surrounded.”

“I’ll talk to you like a human when you stop talking like a nerd. But yeah, I saw them coming in. Is it as bad in the east?”

Carl shook his head, then shrugged.

“Not yet. Or maybe we’re getting the quantity, and they’re getting the quality. They can still sorta count their enemies. We gave up on that.”

“Well whatever the count, tick off two primal lords.”

Carl grinned at that, at least, as did a few of the other casual eavesdroppers.

“So go kill the other six,” he said. “I’ll wait here.”

Mason lowered his voice and took his Chancellor a little further away from the others.

“My teleporting power isn’t working. Have you tried moving anyone between the beacons recently?”

“Shit. But yeah, swapped a few players like three minutes ago. I don’t imagine you’ll be warping around much anyway. I think it’s here or the city now to the end.”

Mason nodded, very glad to hear the beacons worked. As far as whether or not he’d need to move further away, he didn’t have as much faith. RoboGod didn’t seem the type to screw you over for no reason. Maybe there was some kind of location important to the attack, and if he could only get there he could cause the attackers some major problem.

“Tell any free oracles or scouts or scryers or whatever to look around with powers, if they can. Out past the armies. Something that might be hiding behind all that threat. It’s just a hunch, probably nothing. But have them look anyway.”

Carl frowned but nodded.

Mason reached down and detracted his claws to pat the man on the shoulder. He looked up to see most of his key players had followed them, just standing there watching, waiting for some word or instruction. They didn’t look afraid, exactly. More like moths drawn to a flame.

They were all soldiers now. But even soldiers could worry when they looked out an endless horde of enemies. He grinned with his bestial mouth.

“All this.” He gestured towards the enemy visible over the trees. “That’s what they think they need to bring us down. That and more. They’re afraid of us.”

“Course they are.” Seamus popped a gum bubble as he summoned and re-summoned his staff. “We’re feckin’ terrifying, mate.”

Even Mason laughed. In the eyes of the others he could see he didn’t need to say anymore. They’d just wanted to see him, see his manner. See if he was worried. And the truth was, he wasn’t. They’d done what they could do. Now it was time to fight.

And his people were ready. Only a glance at Becky gave him pause. But she was a soldier, too, just like the others. And losing Phuong had only made her more eager to take revenge. He knew he had to use her properly, to rely on her. To be ready to lose her along with everything else.

“See you out there.” He looked back at Carl. “And tell me if the scout types find anything. I’ll go thin the herd until they make it to the walls.”

He leapt off the balcony without another word, wishing he still had that temporary title from Queen Mav. Unlimited mana would be pretty handy to stop a raging horde of undead and demons. But then, with his thorn belt, he maybe had the next best thing.

And his enemy had come to his home—his main source of power. His natural setting buffs were in full swing. His divine title from Demi was on. His Nexus Defender titles were firing up. Every tree holding up the Nexus city was covered in magical defences, and produced a huge, living tree defender.

The lower city walls were as upgraded as the system allowed. They were covered in nature-affinity defensive bonuses. In automated turrets. In magic vines that would crush climbers and regenerate themselves. In towers that lobbed spores a bit like Demi.

And that didn’t count the civilian-made weapons and upgrades. And the players defending the ramparts.

If the lower city fell, their attackers had the unenviable task of either climbing up the huge, magically guarded trees. Trying to take them down exclusively with flyers. Or else trying to chop them down. All while getting shot to shit from above, and from the other platforms. All of which had their own defenses, and would be again guarded by players.

So yeah. They’d need that army.

Or eight planar lords and two divine champions at the same time.

He had no idea what that would look like, but somehow he doubted they could send it all at once, and all at the same city. There’d be rules, or something. The system would consider that bad form. Though he didn’t consider it impossible.

He turned in the air on a last minute impulse, feeling like he hadn’t quite settled everything. Becky was a warrior and ready for the end. But the other girls wouldn’t be. He landed near his hall and ducked inside still in half-bestial form.

Haley and most of the others were there, turning to stare as he came in. He knelt down so they could reach him properly. They came one by one for wordless hugs.

“Your fur tickles,” Rosa whispered in his ear. “But…why do you have this spiky thing on your shoulder? And what is that? It looks like a plate. Oh my God, Lexi, touch this!”

“Stop treating Mason like he’s a zoo animal,” Haley scolded, fighting for her own space against his other side. She frowned and touched the patch of hard skin. “But that is really gross. I think maybe I change my mind about sex with…whatever form this is. Demi can have all that.”

He snorted and just held onto his women, giving a pregnant Demi a smile as she walked in barefoot from the bedroom. He inhaled and felt his nerves soothing as she came running over to join the group hug. It wasn’t quite perfect without Becky, but they’d be on the battlefield together soon enough.

“Stay up top.” He met Demi’s eyes. “Deal with flyers. Protect the tree city if needed. I don’t want you down below. It might get…wild.”

She rolled her eyes, but nodded. He did his best to give all the women a smile with his fanged teeth. He was glad for the monstrous claws because no one asked if he wanted to hold any babies.

It didn’t feel right yet. He didn’t feel right. He needed to end this, to beat his sword back to a plowshare when the fighting was done. Then he could be a husband and father and not…whatever he was.

He stood and eased the women away, moving slow to be sure he didn’t hurt anyone. They looked so small and fragile when he was shifted. Not so different than the infants in the next room. He had no idea what else to say.

“I’ll see you after.”

He turned and walked back to the platform without waiting for any goodbyes. Then he jumped and rose up over the trees with a single flap of his wings, a single glance at his timer.

The system said they had to last a day. Twenty-four hours until the end of the game. At least this round, and what Mason hoped would be a few hundred years of ‘peace’ from the divine events while the gods licked their wounds.

That would be far more than he’d ever expected from life. Worth betting on, worth fighting for. So the system had what it wanted. He was going to fight with every ounce of his strength, and give it its finale.

As he dove at the army, cycling through his spells and powers, he could only hope he’d give it more than it bargained for.