The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 339: Do you know who I am?

Blake watched his brother vanish into the wall, then turned to the others and grinned. He couldn't have been more proud.

"Did you see that magnificent bastard brother of mine?" He shook his head. "Considering you're in heat, Ilya, I don't know how you didn't throw yourself at him. I'm not sure I'd blame you."

The orc lady blushed her peculiar shade of yellow, mouth slightly agape as she stared at Blake in confusion. He couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, lighten up. We should all be dead, really." He glanced back and forth "Did you think I hadn't at least considered the possibility of treachery? No offense, but you orcs can be a bit naughty. It all worked out rather beautifully, I'd say."

Here Blake winced and glanced at the surviving orc prince.

"Apologies, of course, Lord Stoneblood. But even you have to admit, your father and brothers…made a terrible mistake."

The orc stared with a clenched jaw and seething rage. Blake shrugged as he drew more energy from Seul-ki, and flowed more soothing Influence into Annie's mind.

"You’re going to need to think clearly now, my friend.”

“I am not your friend, wizard.”

“Even so. Clearly it would be better for both of us if demons killed your kin and warriors, and not a murderous bunch of humans.” Here he stopped and took on a dramatic tone. “The resistance to our efforts was even worse than we could have imagined! But despite all odds, together we triumphed over the attackers—the Stonebloods died as heroes, to be remembered for all time—and yet again imprisoned the ancient evil of Saza… whatever, where he shall remain for 150 years. Not bad, uh?"

Blake was glad the orc lord looked too injured to attack him. He wouldn't have wanted to have to kill him.

"You want me to deceive the council?" Halvar rasped. "To cover the deaths of my own brothers and father? To call them heroes when they were not only too cowardly to face the demons, but turned on their own allies when they were weak?"

Blake looked back and forth and tapped his fingers on his knuckles.

"Mmhmm."

The orc scoffed and slumped to the ground, any violent intent at least seeming drained. Blake kept on Meditating and soothing Annie, the little redhead now calm enough she'd lay down with her head in his lap and closed her eyes as Ilya continued healing her.

It seemed her mental barrier power had its limits. Somehow the demon’s magic must have shattered it with its mind rend, though no one else seemed affected. Probably it had been an area effect and the poor girl just got caught by being too close to Blake.

"Oh, and thank you, my dear," Blake said, turning to Seul-ki. "Your continued loyalty is truly remarkable. I promise relations with my brother will be entirely fixed with a bit of time. I meant everything I said to him, and to you."

The Korean smiled, eyes sparkling with pride as she bowed in his direction. Blake was reminded how alike they were, how in fact he could keep her far closer to his plans than maybe anyone else. Probably including his brother. At least for now.

"I don't understand what's happening," Ilya said, looking somewhat emotionally drained. Blake took her hand and gave it a gentle pat.

"We always knew this would be hard, my dear. To unite orc and human. And goblin." He winked at Pliny and the assassin. "And whatever else we can manage, for that matter." He shrugged and kissed the back of Ilya's hand. "My brother and I have been a single unit all our lives. I need to stand on my own. And so does he. Like the greenskins I hope to make our allies, sometimes we will disagree, even fight. But that shouldn't stop us from building a brand new future. Should it?"

Ilya shook her head and shrugged helplessly at the same time, then glanced at the orc lord a bit shyly.

"I should have...I haven't been entirely...honest, about my relationship with..."

"You won't be marrying the Lady Ilya," Blake finished. "But with the honor and reputation gained closing that portal, not to mention your new rewards, you needn't worry. Clan Stoneblood will rise ever higher. You are young, Lord Stoneblood. And you have loyal and powerful allies in myself and lady Ilya, I assure you. With our help, who can imagine how high you might climb?"

The orc stared and stared, his eyes squinting as they flicked between Blake and Ilya.

"I have a good imagination."

Blake laughed, a genuine smile creeping across his face.

"I'd worried about you, Lord Stoneblood, since we're being honest. But now I think—one day—we might be friends." He stood and helped Annie to her feet, still feeding her courage and calm. It was time to deal with this problem, then prepare for the next demon portal. He hoped Mason wouldn't be too angry, and that he'd stop worrying about Blake and turn his attention to the many things he needed to deal with.

Blake had complete faith in his brother. The idea of a bunch of politicians and lesser warlords meeting the new and improved ‘Apocalypse Mason’ made him smile. Though he did regret he wouldn't be there to see it in real time.

The things I sacrifice for mankind, he thought with a sigh. Then he limped back towards the exit with Pliny and his girls, stopping briefly to look at the goblin assassin standing still in the corner.

"Oh. I suppose you'll have to decide if you'll keep my secrets or not." He clucked his tongue. "I should really kill you. Or at least…wipe your mind, or something. But..." he shrugged. "I don't want to. So for now I'm going to trust you. At least far enough not to tell anyone but Chillik the truth. Let's call it a leap of faith. Do we have a deal?"

The goblin nodded once, its spring-like body clearly braced for violence. Blake was surprised to find he actually trusted the thing a little. He wasn't exactly sure why. In the past he'd have called it intuition, but he suspected now it might have something to do with his 'luck'.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd found the one goblin assassin worthy of trust. But probably not.

"Let's go home," he whispered, giving Annie's shoulder and Ilya's hand a squeeze. "Come along Navi. And Pliny.” Blake smiled, feeling the future was busy, but bright. And a little exhausting. He still had to pick a new power, and investigate this ‘Astral Binding’ rune. But better to get safe first.

"We have a lot of work to do,” he said. “And there’s no one to do it but us."

* * *

Mason walked into the Wyrd and roared. His deep voice echoed strangely, as if both coming and going from different directions as it bounced through the shadowy trees. His rational mind told him it wasn't wise to attract attention, but the other part of him hoped it came.

Killing the orcs hadn't been satisfying. In his heart he knew no easy battle ever would be—that what drove him, had perhaps always driven him, was a challenge at the limits of his ability. He needed something stronger, something more dangerous. Like a damn dracolich or a giant worm.

But nothing came. Only his own angry voice found him in the magic of the fey, and soon enough he calmed. He was about to take a few steps towards home when he paused. Going to Blake had been on his mind for a few reasons, but mostly it was to take care of a task undone. And there was one more still tickling the edges of his mind.

He had to go to the nymphs. What Calypsa was going to want, exactly, he wasn't sure. But he knew in his gut that sooner or later he was going to have to pay, and that if he waited, the price was only going to go up.

It wouldn't take long, he decided. Calypsa and Thea would make their demands, and Mason would pay or he wouldn't.

If he didn't, he fully expected to have to fight off their magic, and probably lose them forever as allies. He wanted very much to avoid that, but he also wouldn't pay if they demanded some kind of fairy tale price like his first born child. Hopefully they just wanted to bang his brains out.

And since more violence didn't seem to be on the table, a filthy afternoon with the nymphs might be a pretty close second. Since he probably still had a marriage ceremony to deal with, maybe he could call it his bachelor party.

He took a few steps towards the nymphs with a bit more excitement, doing his best to remove Blake from his mind completely. The fucking prick. The stupid, selfish asshole, lost in his own games and nonsense when the extermination of the human race was probably on the table.

It was a good thing Mason recognized the sound of the nymph tree—like a woman singing as she washed clothes, or did some other mindless chore. A deceptively simple, safe little melody that definitely didn't reveal the true danger or nature of the women living there. But Mason wasn't afraid of them.

He stepped into the mists of the tree, moving a hand to the nymph charm as he walked straight through.

The druid returns. Thea's beautiful voice drifted in the breeze. I have missed you terribly. And so have your children. Enter. We await you inside.

And Calypsa? Mason thought. Was she waiting with a spear at the ready? Or with some magic spell to try and bind him?

He entered the tree without hesitation, confident he could handle whatever tricks the nymphs used. His eyes adjusted quickly to the misty gloom, the wonderful floral scents and warm moisture tickling his senses.

"Druid!" Thea rose from her pond in nothing but a see-through skirt, hair over her shoulders and dripping down her breasts. She held out her arms to him, then stopped and looked like a naughty child. "I'm sorry," she said. "But I cannot come to you yet."

"Where's Calypsa?" Mason said, sniffing and searching for the far more dangerous sister.

"I am here," she called in her more formal tone. Mason suddenly saw her clearly, standing on the far side of the grove before a wooden cauldron. "I sensed your coming. I am ready."

"Ready for what?" Mason said, taking small steps forward, ready to fight, ready to run.

Calypsa waved a hand over the cauldron and closed her eyes. A moment later she convulsed. As her body twitched, images of another person flashed and twined with her own.

Mason saw white hair and wrinkled skin, then another raven-haired woman with silver eyes. Calypsa drooped, then rose, smiling as a staff appeared in her hand.

"Hello, young buck," said the woman Mason had known only as an ancient druid he'd called the ‘crone’. They’d met in a cave, then after sometimes in his dreams. "Do you know yet who I am?"

Mason hadn't. But he did now. The name struck him like a harsh slap, then a gentle kiss. He said it to himself more than her, no idea what it meant, except that fighting or fleeing was officially off the table. He said it with a sigh.

"You're Gaia."

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