The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 396: A very long week

Blake activated Mind Rend as Carl warped. He had learned it was actually targeted mostly based on location, so escaping it physically was a good tactic. But he suspected it had at least grazed the man before he escaped.

Not that he'd 'escaped' anything. Blake was going to teach that man some God damn humility. And some fear.

Annie's scream had sent a shiver down Blake's spine. He'd heard it before in her dreams—the pain, the fear of failure. She thought she was letting him down like she'd let down her friends in that awful 'school'.

He realized she wasn't going to quit again, ever. He should have known that. Should have talked to her first and sorted this out. Instead he'd let her down and gotten her hurt again. But Carl should have stopped at that scream. Blake would have quit then and there once he'd realized Annie couldn't take this for a 'game'. To her it would always be real.

And they'd 'killed' her. So now she'd wake up feeling like she had in that tutorial, lost for a little while maybe in the terrible dreams, reminded of the trauma that had almost broken her completely. Blake had gripped Seul-ki's hand as he watched her fall.

"Do it," he said, and she gave him what he affectionally called a 'super-charge'—a temporary boost of every power, and every major statistic. She couldn't hold it long, her mana draining with terrible speed. But he didn't need long.

He left Seul-ki and launched off his platform with Telekinesis, intending to put an end to this as quickly as possible so he could go to Annie.

But Carl just had to make things difficult.

Blake turned and watched Navi zip after his target, preparing to float over and start launching javelins before getting his Arcane Blast lined up perfectly...

Another of Tommaso stupid potions came whistling at Blake's head. He caught it with Telekinesis with one half of his mind, spun on the Italian and released his channeled and waiting Arcane Blast with the other. Tommaso cried out in alarm. Then dropped to the grass in two pieces.

Blake turned his attention away as the trumpet blared. He just floated towards Carl's last position, charging another Arcane Blast. He glanced at Becky and was tired of waiting. He needed his constructs hunting Carl, and turned them all away in a ‘Seek and Destroy’ pattern across the clearing.

Becky was smashing one with her mace in the back, but she'd have to hit it about a hundred times to actually break it. Blake followed Navi, floated his bundle of javelins forward, and started launching everywhere Navi pointed.

One spear flashed blue light with Rebecca’s Aegis, and Carl shimmered and warped again. Blake turned and loosed his Arcane Blast as the faint blur of the shield re-appeared, throwing a dozen javelins with a stronger burst of Telekinetic power.

"Shield is dropping!" Becky called, looking frantic now as she tried to stop the constructs. They were getting closer to Carl now, spread out in a ragged line about 25 feet apart.

Blake was officially done with these people and this farce of a fight. He turned on Becky with a brutal jolt of Mentally Influenced panic. She cried out and activated a power, glowing with arcane energy as a circular wall wrapped around Blake's constructs, trapping them and her inside.

Clever, Blake thought, but irrelevant.

Carl appeared again. Twice. Both charged Blake, no doubt trying to get close enough to warp.

He simply floated backwards and up, moving himself to the very maximum of Carl's jump. His mana was draining fast, but he didn't care. He grabbed one Carl with a super-charged Telekinesis and held him still, then skewered him full of javelins.

The other cried out and jumped, then warped.

Blake's mind was busy. Both his partitions were working on overdrive. He was holding Telekinesis open twice, holding himself, holding Carl #1, throwing spears. He already gave up trying to control his constructs. His shield flared as the real Carl slashed at his face with that awful dagger, not quite breaking it in a single hit.

It was their one chance. And it was over.

Carl didn't even try to warp away, holding his arms out as he fell. Probably he was out of mana.

Instead of skewering him, Blake grabbed him with Telekinesis, and threw him with all his arcane might at the ground. Either Carl didn't have the mana to warp again, or he just didn't bother. He hit the earth hard and flat on his back, his breath blasting out of him with a groan.

Blake dropped down with a summoned javelin to end it, but Carl spat blood and whispered a surrender, then vanished. Becky followed a moment later, and the arena played its victory music as Blake's world disappeared.

I'm coming, Annie, he thought.

* * *

Carl woke with a cry and a deep breath. He'd probably broken his back and who knew what else when he hit the ground. He could still almost feel that demonic mind power racing through his thoughts like a hurricane.

"Jesus H Christ," he said, looking over at Phuong and Alex sitting on chairs next to his couch. "OK. We got to fight Mason's fucking brother. How'd you boys do?"

"Some team." Alex shrugged. "Very easy. Seamus took nap."

Carl put his hands to his face and blew air before he laughed and let out as much exhausted anxiety as he could. He watched Tommaso get cut in half again in his mind and tried to shake it off.

"God that kid is scary. I killed Annie. Not much for it. Part of the deal but I still feel like shit."

"I'm sure she'll understand," Phuong said with an encouraging smile. "I assume you were ultimately...?"

"We lost," Carl confirmed. "Blake just floated around and took us apart. If they'd put us somewhere with a damn roof maybe. Course then he'd probably make a dozen steel walls. Or who the hell knows. I'm glad that's over, I tell you what."

Phuong pat his knee and smiled.

"At least in the real world, he is on our side."

Yeah, Carl thought. I fucking hope so.

The idea of another match in fifteen minutes brought some bile to his throat, so he stood and went to get some water, forcing himself to avoid any more coffee. There was only so much caffeine a man could drink before his bowels turned to mush. Or at least so much before Carl's did.

"I'll go see Sylvie," he said. Alex and Phuong just grunted and closed their eyes, trying to relax before another round.

It was the first loss for Carl in the arena. Phuong hadn't lost yet. And even Alex had won all but one of his single bouts. How exactly wasn't precisely clear, but Carl didn't ask a lot of questions.

It was something like a reflective power that didn't work well against certain builds. Carl got the impression the average 'support' class was basically screwed, and lost almost every time, so Alex was something of an exception.

He got to the room he shared with Sylvie and flopped down on the bed. Fortunately she was back from the bazaar, letting Rosa take over for a rare few hours of rest. She knelt beside him and started to massage his shoulders.

"Was it bad?"

Carl groaned and nodded into the bed. He fought desperately to resist saying 'I'm too old for this shit.', because she always teased him. After a few minutes of massage, he turned and took Sylvie's hands.

"We should get married."

She just stared and blinked a few times, a smile slowly spreading across her lips.

"OK."

"That's it? I propose and you say 'OK?'"

"OK...good idea?" Sylvie grinned and leaned down, hovering her lips a few inches from his. He smiled and pulled her in for a kiss, everything always a little better when Sylvie was in his arms.

"It's going to be a very long week," he said, lying back with Sylvie's head on his chest. He tried to resist, he really did. But willpower could only do so much. "I'm too old for this shit.”

* * *

Blake opened his eyes and leapt to his feet, charging straight to the door that separated Blake's room from Annie's. It was locked, so he 'unmade' the handle and pulled it open with the hole. He found Annie hugging her knees in the corner of the room.

"I'm sorry," she said, tears in her eyes.

"You don't have to be sorry," he said, coming to sit in front of her. "You did your best. And it's not real combat. No one expects you to..."

"No," she said, rolling her eyes. "I know it's not real. That it's a game. I hate that everyone thinks I'm crazy. I'm sorry I freaked out. That I couldn't just give up when he had me. I knew it but I was just…so mad. That I couldn't..." She shook her head, and Blake felt himself relaxing.

He was afraid she'd backslid towards that awful darkness. But she was maybe just an upset, competitive teenage girl—a warrior angry for getting jumped and beaten, for making a mistake. He grinned and smacked her foot.

"You fell hook line and sinker for that clone. He does it almost every time against melees like you."

Annie met his eyes with a very feminine glare.

"It looked exactly like him. He even turned. He took like a fighting stance!"

Blake shook his head and slid over to sit beside her, his back to the wall.

"Did you turn on your power? I know I say not to. But maybe in combat…I don’t know. It would keep you calm, you know, more...focused?"

"I did, when he used his stupid spray!" Annie stomped on his foot and sighed. "It maybe didn’t help. I get almost…too focused, you know? Like I get kind of tunnel vision. So maybe I shouldn’t have. I just want to be...like, the best I can without it, you know?"

Blake nodded and put his head back. He caught a glimpse of Annie pushing some red hair behind her ear, the system shirt pulled tight across her ample chest. His mind flopped around in panic, telling him she was too young, she was too damaged.

Another piece was reminding him he was only twenty-one years old—two or three years older than her. That if he wasn't in this ridiculous alien world they'd be at university together…

Yeah. It was definitely time to go.

"I'm glad you're OK," he said, moving to a knee and ready to stand. "We won by the way. Oh I guess you'd see the points. Best haul yet with tier 1 players like..."

Annie grabbed his neck and kissed him. He sort of froze as her soft lips pressed against his.

"Annie..." he managed, trying not to lick his lips.

"What?" She met his eyes, not looking away, not seeming shy or afraid. "I just got killed. This isn't so scary."

She kissed him again, and Blake's useless brain was fresh out of arguments. Somewhere in there was Ilya and Seul-ki and just enough complication to keep a man busy. But it all just drifted away.

They lay down on the carpet and made out like...well, teenagers. Blake didn't make a move below the belt, and she didn't either. After awhile they just lay together on the floor, Annie cuddled up next to him, her eyes closed.

"This is nice," she said. "Can we just stay here until the next fight?"

"Yeah," he said, stroking her hair.

She was so innocent, so inexperienced, so...good. Blake stared at the ceiling as Annie put a very sexy leg over his, wrapping an arm over his chest as she cuddled into him. It felt wonderful. Sweet. And sent waves of lust through his whole body.

He told himself he wasn't going to hell. It helped a little.

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