The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 293: A test

Mason dropped to the ground and groaned. He was all burnt to hell, particularly his hands, which he'd eventually used to just pull the damn skeleton apart.

"Oh my God, are you alright? And don't you just say you'll heal! I mean are you OK?"

The giant skeleton had finally stopped moving. As it died, a swirling green...portal, appeared beside the corpse. Mason didn't know much about anything, but he was pretty sure they were supposed to go through.

"I'm alright," he said, clenching his teeth as his charred skin and bashed and crushed body healed. Turned out wrestling a giant skeleton wasn't made any more fun when its bones were as hot as an oven.

"Sorry, chiefy," Seamus said with a crinkled nose. "But you did tell me to give it everything I had."

"I did," Mason agreed, putting his head back with a groan. On the plus side, somewhere between getting burnt and crushed, his Transformation and Duality of Strength had started juicing him up.

By the end of his wrestling match, he'd had the strength to break the impossibly strong bones off with his hands and a few good hits. His limbs still practically hummed with power.

"I shielded you best I could," Becky said. "My new aegis is amazin', I ain't gonna lie, and I love it. But it takes a minute to switch it up to a new person. Should'a realized that."

Streak tried to chew on the giant, over-heated skeleton. He smacked his lips and stuck out his tongue, making a slight whining sound as he glanced at Mason.

"What the hell do you want me to do? Go eat a cultist, I don't know. No I'm not dumping water on it. No I'm...God damnit Streak." Mason shook his head and stared at the glowing circle. "Seamus, can you tell me anything about this thing?"

The fire mage's eyes glazed and he shrugged. "It's real. And it'll whisk us off somewhere. That's about all I know."

"We need to find the others," Mason said. "I expect Carl could kill one of these," he gestured, "but it might not be pretty. And the others would be fucked."

There were still some cultists and guards milling about down the hall. But mostly they stared at the dead giant skeleton with wide eyes and horrified expressions. It seemed fighting the people who could kill their favorite undead pet was not something that appealed to them.

Second portal activated, intoned a robotic, god-like voice from above. Please enter in five minutes or less, or your teleportation will be randomized.

"I doubt that would be good," Mason said and let out a breath. He started counting. "I'm going to use four of those five minutes to heal. Then we go. I suggest you both take a moment to collect yourselves. I'm guessing a second portal means Carl cut up some giant bones. We'll have to hope the others are with him."

Becky sat down next to Mason and put her head on his shoulder. He kissed her hair and closed his eyes, just after seeing Seamus hop back and forth like a boxer, jabbing his staff at the air.

When he'd counted to about two-fifty he forced himself to his feet, lifting Becky with him.

"OK," he said, clicking for Streak. "Whatever's on the other side of this thing, be ready. Move your aegis back to Seamus, Becky."

"Already done," she said, and he grinned.

"See you on the other side."

He put a hand on Streak's neck, feeling the wolf's fear, probably because the portal looked a little like the 'feylands'. He was ready to drag him if necessary, but as he stepped forward the creature seemed a little bolstered. He stepped into the portal.

* * *

Mason appeared in a jungle like he'd walked through an open door. There was no world-vanishing or his senses being overcome. It was literally as if he'd simply stepped from a hole in the pyramid into a place filled with trees and foliage covering the ground.

"It's bloody hot," said Seamus, apparently right behind him. "You'd think a man immune to fire wouldn't be bothered by a bit of sun. Makes no bloody sense, really."

Streak growled a low warning and Mason raised a hand for silence. He sniffed the air, trying not to be overwhelmed by the scent of life in every direction. He heard a gentle breeze in the canopy, the shrieks and squawks of birds all around and above them. But he finally caught what put Streak on edge.

"I smell blood. Follow," he whispered, glancing just to make sure Becky was with them. She nodded and kept a hand on his back.

He'd been hoping maybe Carl, Phuong and Alex would come out right beside them. But it was definitely a faint hope.

They trekked through the jungle with wary eyes, Mason mostly focusing on what he could see and hear and letting Streak do the scent. They soon heard voices up ahead. One speaking quickly, urgently, and with fear in the voice. A few shouts. Then silence.

Mason readied his bow, though the jungle was so thick he expected a decent shot might be difficult. Now that he was out in the open he practically shivered with pleasure at the feel of his powers returning, or improving, or getting more efficient.

With Nassau now counting as 'natural', and his time outside in the forest or the plains, Mason very rarely experienced being in a 'non-natural' setting. He preferred not to do it at all, and it was a definite problem for later in the game if he had no choice. But he supposed one had to accept some drawbacks for the sheer power his classes seemed to give him in the right situation.

The voices were quiet but still going, and soon became clear. Mason was about to make Seamus and Becky wait when he remembered Strength of the Pack and practically slapped himself.

In theory, it gave his 'group' members some minor benefit from all his passives and innates. He doubted it would let them summon a bow, but they might get access to some minor benefit from his Sleeves.

He activated the power, and glanced at Becky.

"Feel any...different?"

She shrugged, then blinked as if confused. Mason noticed her eyes seemed to shine with a dull green light, and couldn't help but grin.

"Oh, lord," she said, staring at herself as hardly visible swirls of vine and leaves moved up her forearms.

"Keep out of sight," Mason said. "As long as you're touching the trees you should be a little harder to see. I'll go take a look, just sit tight."

Becky nodded as Seamus for some reason pulled out his pants and looked at his crotch.

"No changes there," he muttered, and Mason rolled his eyes as he crept forward with Streak.

The main, urgent sounding voice got clearer and clearer. He started to smell smoke now, too, but hadn't seen any sign before and expected they'd just lit a flame. When he found a small clearing in the jungle alongside a creek, the picture got a little clearer.

A man in dark, wildly inappropriate robes for the hot jungle was tied to a tree with his hands above his head. A dozen, half-naked, men with what looked like...bird wings, were building a fire at his feet.

"You must listen to me, my friends," said the robed figure, who looked more or less like a dark-skinned, dark-haired, bearded human. "I beg you again, for your souls and mine. You must give up the evil gods who teach you to kill, and to consume the flesh of trespassers. You know in your hearts it is wrong. How would you feel if a stranger took your children and did this? What would you say to them?"

"I'd say nothing, stupid man, I'd cut out his heart," hissed one of the winged men. Most of the others snorted, but the one building the fire growled as if they shouldn't speak.

Mason winced, but for the moment just watched. Obviously this was some kind of test.

Everything in this damned new world was a test, and Mason had never particularly been fond of them in the old world. No doubt Blake would have considered it from every angle and figured out what made the most sense.

The prick should have been here to figure out that damn pyramid, to help find the others, to help figure out the portals or the images or something.

Mason ground his teeth and tried to bury his anger. He felt they'd missed something in that strange place but he had no idea what. It was too late to figure it out now, and frustration didn't help him. He had to sort this out with the tools he had.

Which meant the other players, his own abilities, and he supposed his intuition. It wasn't always right, but it had at least helped keep him alive so far. And his intuition told him to save this man.

That's how he'd have felt in the 'real' world. If in the real world he had super powers, and stumbled onto a fantasy preacher with some fantasy cannibals.

He took a long, suffering breath, and stepped out into the clearing.

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