The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 424: The end is nigh

For a seemingly never-ending day and night, the system kept on hammering Mason and everyone else with constant matches. Between the 'holy city’, a few western stragglers from the south, and Chinua and his rebels, Mason and his people had several hard bouts. And a few losses.

Jason was out of the solo duels just three positions below the final ten. He came out spitting like a camel, tossing tables on their house balcony until Mason calmed him down with a look.

"What happened?"

"That fucking…chick. With the throwing…I just couldn't...she's so fast, and so..."

Mason nodded, knowing Jason meant one of their new potential allies. The woman was dangerous, and Mason wasn’t at all unhappy about that. Hopefully she’d be on his side soon.

Jason was very good in a team. He was high enough level his stats and some luck had probably carried him this far, but the truth was, he wasn’t that great of a duelist.

"It was a bad match," Mason said. "From what I saw of her powers, she could deal with your reach, keep out of melee. She's probably one of the most powerful players left."

The deeply introverted Jason nodded but still tried to drink himself into a stupor before being reminded by several others he remained on a six man team. He eventually seemed to regain some composure, sitting with his team and back to his usual, brooding self.

So Jason was out. Seamus was out. A few minutes later Alex appeared with a sigh and a shrug and said he was out. Phuong got the details from him a little later.

“Another one of our new eastern ‘allies’,” he said. “That support. Apparently neither of them would hurt the other. It eventually disqualified them both.”

Mason flinched, mostly angry at the system and its stupid horse shit. But honestly he hadn’t expected Alex to make it remotely that far, and at least he’d gone out maybe making a friend.

“It is what it is,” he said. “We know which big hitters are left?”

“Some.” Phuong shrugged. “Blake. Annie. Some eastern wizard. The Brazilian. Mushroom girl. Chinua and his ranged.”

Mason nodded, leaving it at that. There wasn’t much they could do about any of it except face their matches and try to win. Time ticked by, the fights went on. All of Nassau’s teams were still in.

Mason sent Haley to look for Monica—the girl they’d…picked up on the dance floor during the ‘Meet and Greet’. But Haley found no sign of her. The civilians were still buying what they liked, though prices had apparently kept going up, so they'd let them cool off a day or two until greed gave way to practicality.

It was, in other words—after a very long six days of tournament—time to finish this damn thing. Then it was time to get their rewards, go 'home', and hopefully forget all about it.

Mason and some of the others watched the last rounds of matches leading to the finals, wincing as they watched one of Blake's constructs literally cook some eastern player to death with its magic hands. The individual bouts professed to be over, though they weren’t totally sure who all was out.

The team matches came next, a blur of violence as desperate eastern teams mostly fought each other. The trumpets blared, again and again, the sound filling the promenade with every player glued to the matches.

And then it was one last eastern team in the 6s (with the ‘shadow’ rogue Mason beat in the singles), solidifying themselves against the six man final with Nassau’s group.

Chinua’s group had been unfortunately knocked out of the threes by Becky’s group, which meant she was up against Blake or some lesser, but apparently luckier, eastern team for the second last match. Who the hell knew how the system managed such things.

"Who are you up against?" Carl asked him, looking at the remaining twos.

Mason shrugged. "Some dead men." He’d said it without intending to be arrogant, honestly not really thinking about it until Carl whistled and Becky gave him a laugh.

"Shit," she said, looking maybe slightly turned on. "Look at the son of a bitch. He wasn't even jokin'."

Mason opened his mouth to say something self-deprecating, but...no, he wasn't joking. He fully expected to crush whoever was left, not even afraid of the emperor now unless there were other variables. He just smiled and shrugged, happy to let Becky practically mount his leg and Carl shake his head and wander off.

But there was no time for anything too fun. They all vanished again for more individual rounds, and House Mason was now officially forced to fight itself as the numbers had dwindled to low double digits.

Mason appeared in terrain that didn't suit him at all, and soon found a very disappointed Garet.

"Shit," muttered the spearman, raising his weapon from a patch of metallic bars almost like spears protecting his position and giving him some cover.

Mason decided to give him the respect of not holding back. He ran to the edge of the cover and ripped apart the metallic bars and threw them like javelins until Garet was forced to withdraw.

Then Mason summoned his bow and loosed arrows until the man was forced to activate everything and charge, deflecting enough arrows to survive but not without getting slowed and pierced a few times.

Mason could have retreated and shot the much slower melee player to death. But he pulled his swords and swiped past his guard in a series of blows, Claw eventually stopping at Garet’s neck.

"Shit. I…ow…surrender," Garet said with a sigh, wincing at the pain of a few arrows in his arms and legs. "Well fought, chief."

"You too, Garet," Mason said as they both vanished.

Then it was another round, and more knockouts, and the system was congratulating people left and right and declaring a riveting, epic final.

Sounded a bit like horseshit. Whoever was left, none stood a chance against Mason. Blake had agreed to give up anyway, but Mason had no fear of his constructs or offensive powers or even his mind magic. He was fairly terrifying against most players, but his tricks were just too weak to matter against Mason.

The arena forced him back into one more set of twos, and he obliterated them. Then he watched his players fight the last few team matches with Haley at his side.

Rebecca, Carl and Tommaso won their match pretty handily. Their hardest fight besides Blake had been Chinua and his crew, and Mason was happy with how impressive his potential allies looked.

They were a nicely balanced group, with Chinua being especially impressive one on one. And his teammates were both sorely needed ranged types, or at least hybrids. Not that it was all that easy to tell just from watching the matches.

Blake and his people beat their final three almost easily. They easterners had decided to take their time, letting their own summoner build up a small army. The poor bastards let Blake summon himself a good six constructs before he got bored and sent them out. It became pretty clear one thing was not like the other, and Blake's constructs ripped apart a series of elementals without taking a loss.

It was mop up after that. The exasperated easterners fought construct after construct as Blake hid in a giant cube of metal, waiting and using Seul-ki's regen, probably hardly even strained. One thing was definitely a trueism in the old world and the new—you didn't give Blake Nimitz time to figure out how to beat you.

Mason finally got announced to the final 2s, which was kind of amazingly a lower quality pair of easterners. Whether it was bad luck or just all the best hoping to avoid Mason, the 2s turned out to have less of the ‘elite’ top tier people, despite the promise of a better reward.

His players all cheered like it was special, like he needed encouragement. He just rolled his eyes as it warped him, putting him in another fairly neutral arena. There were pits and electrical traps, as well as roaming mists that drained your powers. Mason mostly ignored it all. He found and slaughtered the last two people from the east, and the system declared him the winner.

[Title earned. Arena team champion. +2 to primary statistic.]

[Reward to be received at the conclusion of the tournament.]

Honestly, it was all pretty anti-climactic after beating Jeong. Mason looked forward to his reward, and the rewards of everyone else in Nassau, hoping it helped propel them to new heights in the near future.

All he really had left to do was watch Blake and Carl's 3 man team re-match, and see the final six man before ending the individual competition against...whoever. But probably Blake.

He sat in the promenade observing the much more subdued eastern players. They moped around their tables watching their screens, the occasional unpleasant and maybe fearful glance coming up his way.

Things had worked out pretty well, he decided, no matter how things ended now. His players were amongst the strongest in the world, only their weakest and people with bad dueling classes getting knocked out early.

But they weren’t nearly far enough ahead for comfort. Nassau was still horribly outnumbered, their only protection for the moment geography. Hopefully they could gain power and do some recruiting, staying frightening enough to keep their enemies from risking a fight.

It was the plan, at least, until they could figure out a better one.

Mason shifted in his chair and looked for the ever-busy and roaming Haley just as she came up the stairs. They both smiled as their eyes locked, and she came and sat beside him without a word, putting her head on his shoulder.

"A few more," he said, "and then it's done. Gonna miss the Neutral Zone?"

Haley laughed and nodded, pretending to be embarrassed.

"Don’t be mad. I'm going to make a spa when we get home. And we should spend some more points on Billy's restaurant. And get at least one civilian a masseuse specialty. And..." Haley saw Mason's mocking expression and rolled her eyes. "I don't care what you say. You liked it. And if your girls like it and get happy and relaxed you'll like it even more."

Mason couldn't help but grin.

"Who could argue with that."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Certainly not you," Haley said, turning back to the screen as she cuddled into him. "What do you think the rewards will be?"

"Something good. I just want out of here so I can get exploring. I don’t know if I should cross the sea first or go south."

"Don't rush it, my love," Haley said, looking more serious. "We were safe here for a little while. Who knows what tomorrow will bring."

Mason took her hand and kissed it. Wise as always, he thought, meeting her eyes.

"You don't have to worry about that," he said. "Whatever else happens, whatever I have to do or become, I'll keep you safe." He put a hand to her stomach. "Both of you. That's a promise."

He took her in his arms and held her, swearing it again in his own mind, sensing Cerebus somewhere not far from his consciousness with a knowing grin. Mason had given up Gaia as his personal 'patron', never quite sure how he'd felt about her powers or motives. But he realized in that moment he would never give up the horned god.

In what mattered most they were of one mind—protecting what was theirs. It was a vaguely disturbing thought to be placent with the 'nature god' influencing and guiding his emotions somewhere in the background.

But then did anyone truly live in a world where they weren’t being manipulated? By family, by culture, by drugs, by politicians or religions or lovers? Cerebus, at least, was straight forward. He was also a vast source of strength and power, and Mason knew he'd need it to 'win' this game.

For now, at least, it was a price he was willing to pay.

"It’s starting!" Haley pointed at the screen and gave Mason another squeeze as she turned. He kept an arm around her and watched his players in their final rounds, hoping any deaths and kills were at least clean.