Chapter 600: You first
The emperor’s ally managed to keep his throat intact with a panicked swipe of his shield. But it was like a man trying to stand against a hurricane. Mason’s marilith arms drove two daggers into Damian’s shoulders, but he didn’t stop his charge. He smashed into the man hard enough he knocked him flying, but grabbed his dagger-arm and yanked him back.
Damian was something like Garet, a Tactician who could form multiple weapons. To his credit, he thought and moved fast enough to turn his now useless shield into another dagger, driving it into flesh despite a foot of steel in his shoulders. Mason ignored the weapon, seized both the man’s forearms, and pulled outwards until an arm ripped off.
Blood and arcane shields were spraying everywhere. The tough bastard didn’t even cry out as he threw himself back. The casters renewed their endless attempt at slowing Mason down, and he forced his feet several steps as he hacked.
Somehow they’d dispelled his damn Stag Essence. But the dispel had done its work. He could hear screams and knew Streak was close—the now werewolf-like shifter tossing men away as it charged down the pavement towards him.
He could hear running feet coming from the wall, some panicked, some purposeful. His people had broken through. They were coming for blood, and if the enemy didn’t rally and stand firm, the slaughter was close.
As he took the last few steps towards Damian, little hairs rose on his neck. Over all the chaos of the battle, he heard his true enemy coming like a troop of drummers. He felt his presence, too, as a tingle down his spine.
With all the damn flashing of spells he could hardly see, but he sensed extreme danger. Were it any other enemy he’d have accepted what came without concern. But Jeong wasn’t any enemy.
Mason slowed and listened for the right moment—the drums of Jeong’s inhuman feet sprinting across the holy city. Then he turned and activated his rarely used and very first find, way back in the tutorial. His Shield gem crackled to life, just as the white robed emperor came flying through a cluster of powers.
It happened so fast it was almost impossible even for Mason to react. The emperor went to strike him, but not with a punch. He extended his arm in a thrust, and a thin white blade formed and hit the shield. And pierced it.
Mason reacted on pure instinct. He fell back and twisted away, the weapon at least slowing as it came through, just short of a hit. Jeong’s face was a snarling mask of hate, his skin pale and pink and sweating. He’d stopped his charge with impossible athleticism, and he came on jabbing from multiple directions like a blur. He was even faster than before.
Mason had no time to think. He just reacted with all four arms, stepping and deflecting and falling back as his marilith daggers jabbed uselessly into golden shield. Even now the stupid bastards more interested in a kill than protection. He took a hit. Two. The blade was impossibly sharp and pieced his armor and flesh like it was nothing.
He knew something was wrong the moment the weapon touched him. Apex Predator flared red and looked jumbled, like it couldn’t figure out a counter. He knew he had to keep that weapon away from him. But since Jeong was moving like a damn superhero, that seemed like a fucking problem.
The wizards making his life terrible, at least, were finally in trouble. Streak and his players were coming in with powers blazing. A ball of fire hit them and exploded over their shields. John and Phuong rushed straight past the epic duel like it wasn’t their business, crashing into wizards and constructs with wild abandon.
Becky’s Aegis covered Mason’s skin in a warm hug. What must have been Chinua’s support player’s ‘wind’ blew in and covered everything around him, filling him with a burst of energy. Demi’s mushrooms started growing out of his skin. His divine title glowed green.
“Kill the bastard!” he heard Chinua yell, a snarl of hate in his voice. “Don’t let him run!”
Mason couldn’t have agreed more. His moment of animal panic had ended. He wasn’t here to protect himself, he was here to kill. Nothing else mattered. His pack had arrived, and there was only the hunt.
He banished his Claws, and went straight for his prey with his bare hands, reaching for the man’s arms. You couldn’t stab if you couldn’t move. Jeong looked manic, but smiling. Like he’d already won the fight. He used one hand to swipe at Mason’s grapple, the other to try and plunge that terrible weapon again.
Mason trusted Becky, and took it. He threw himself against Jeong’s golden shield, getting a grip on the wrist that drove the blade into his gut. He grabbed the elbow of the other arm and held it, too.
Duality of Strength thundered in his ears. Transformation was flashing as red as Apex Predator, like it didn’t know what to do with his wounds, either. But that didn’t matter. He’d last long enough.
“Got you,” he growled, locking his grip and holding on as Jeong tugged. He tasted blood and spit it in his enemy’s face, watching it drip down that golden shield like it hit plastic wrap.
“No, boy,” Jeong hissed and spasmed like he’d tried to laugh. “You’re dead! You’re already dead!”
They stared and struggled, Mason feeling a creeping pain shooting from his wounds. He’d expected Jeong to be stronger than before, too—to overpower him easily and quickly, to be forced to just hold on with everything he had.
But it was almost…easier than last time. Whether it was the buffs or his own increased power, Jeong thrashed and yanked but failed to escape. He was trying to get his weapon turned and plunged again with chaotic movements, but he had no chance.
Mason had him. His marilith arms were plunging down into that shield like the world’s deadliest metronomes, already using Mason’s strikes without instruction. Or permission, for that matter.
“Kill him!” Jeong screamed at his players, eyes wild. “Kill him now! He’s weakened! Damian I need you!”
But his people had their own problems. In the corner of his eye, Mason saw Carl flicker and appear twice, hacking two casters down at the same time. Annie had charged into the center of them and was swinging her axe, running through magic like it was just a bunch of pretty lights.
At that critical moment, a lot of Jeong’s people were ‘tactically withdrawing’, too, or just flat out running. Mason’s people were fighting like it was the most important moment of their lives. Like there was nothing left in the world except here and now. No retreat. No surrender. It made all the difference.
A chakram bounced off Jeong’s shield. Garet came rushing at his side with a huge, two-handed pick like he was about to mine for gold. Jeong twisted and side-kicked a foot into the younger man’s chest, knocking him flying.
“Stay away!” Mason growled. “Ranged only. He’s not going anywhere.”
Jeong snarled and pulled, and Mason squeezed the skin-tight shield at the man’s wrists, crushing with all his impossible strength. The emperor roared in frustration and slammed a foot into Mason’s gut, flaring with light.
Becky’s Aegis was apparently already gone. The force sent a ripple of twisting agony up Mason’s chest, and he felt the stab wounds throb. He coughed blood and couldn’t seem to catch his breath.
“I can’t shield more unless you let him go!” Becky was shouting, moving up beside him to block some stray projectile. Mason almost laughed.
There was no ‘letting go’. There was no delay or second chances. There was only Jeong crushed and ripped and dead and Mason chewing on his fucking heart. He’d apparently shapeshifted without thinking about it, feeling his damaged body twist and pop and grow.
Jeong slammed a foot into his knee, his thigh, his stomach, every blow like a swinging hammer. Mason’s skin broke, his flesh bruised, his bone cracked. Some of the casters were still shooting him, too. His back and hair were literally on fire, his face half frozen from some icy blast.
None of it mattered. He was healing everything except the wounds from that awful blade.
“You’re already dead!” Jeong shouted again, laughing like a madman as he struck with knees and shins and feet. Despite his smaller stature, he even tried to use his head to bash.
Mason obliged. He twisted to help, slamming his forehead into the man’s skull, the crack so loud between them it was like thunder.
The thought reminded him he still had mana. He could hold the bastard and still channel, so he activated his lightning, shaping with a tree and stone rune as he stamped the visuals to draw it. The sky darkened, and he grinned and held his enemy still.
All he had to do was survive long enough. Break the shield. And then it was over.
The battle raged all around him—his players and Jeong’s remaining allies fighting desperately for their lives, attacking or defending their leaders, trying to win the duel that truly mattered. He saw a one-armed Damian come rushing towards him as he channeled. He saw him get unceremoniously cut down by Carl.
Jeong looked at it all with wide, desperate eyes. The power above them grew, and seemed more than Mason expected. He saw his divine title, ‘Where you are Gaia, I am Gaius’ glowing even brighter, and realized somehow Demi must have been helping him, her mana linking to his. His nymph charm hummed around his neck.
“There’s no point to this,” Jeong said, not so forceful now. “You’re already dead.”
Mason met his eyes and smiled with all his fangs.
“You first.”
The bolt crashed into them both with a blinding flash. Mason cried out with half laugh and half agony, feeling the power ripple out in his ‘natural’ pocket of ground as it fried them both.
Jeong still wasn’t hurt, but looked disoriented. That rapier-like weapon was still sticking out from his hand, and in the moment of sensory overload, Mason used his grip on the man’s wrist, dropped the weight of his boots to make himself impossibly heavy.
He yanked the hand down, lined the blade under Jeong’s chin, and drove it straight up.
The ‘emperor’s’ inhuman reflexes saved his life. But not his shield. Mason watched the point of the weapon touch golden energy and spark with grey smoke. It hissed and popped before Jeong thought to banish the blade. Mason’s hands closed around flesh as the protection popped.
Jeong stared with wordless horror, blinking as Mason opened his jaws, and clamped down on his throat.
Blood leaked between his fangs. More magic was hitting him, swirling around him. There was something wrong with his chest and lungs, and he could hear himself wheeze as he sucked in breaths through his nose. But nothing in the world, dead or alive, was getting him off.
He chewed and pulled with terrible violence as his enemy fought and slapped or punched uselessly. His strength weakened, his bloody gasps for life like music to Mason’s ears. With a final roar, he dug his Claws and carved away flesh and muscle. Then he ripped the emperor’s head off in his grip.
He held it out like a trophy, and watched the text scroll. A noise blared like they were in the damn Neutral Zone. Everything in his profile was shouting for attention, the violence stopping as all the air seemed sucked out of the conflict.
The world around him stopped like it was a puppet with cut strings, a silence growing as he and Streak howled alone.