The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 624: Loyalty



The world seemed slow to Mason’s eyes. The air whipped past him, the remaining undead like a herd of prey, crawling on the ground as he…flew above them.

He’d jumped and used his boots as usual. Then pain flared from the stubs of the new ‘limbs’ growing on his back, followed by a fleshy, popping sound. Weak flesh spread like sail cloth and carried his modified weight on the wind.

If he wasn’t worried about Demi, he might have howled in pure joy as his arc didn’t bend towards the ground. He wasn’t flying, maybe, but he was gliding.

He saw Blake’s stupid cart. He and Demi were off the ground as a small army of undead swarmed them. The rest of the horde was rushing the city behind a long line of retreating players. He took a relieved breath because it looked like they’d escape. Almost all the cavalry was destroyed, and the rest of the army was slow.

Except he could feel the Endless’ avatar behind him. Danger was prickling his skin, and he knew the fight wasn’t over. His people needed to get to that wall.

With a few attempts at adjusting his ‘wings’, he angled himself and landed on the elevated cart, gripping with his claws and feet. Blake and Demi both jumped and stared.

“What are you still doing here?” he growled. “Go with the others. I have a god to humble.”

The creatures below were mostly dying in Demi’s spores, or to a frustrated Streak’s jaws. The wolf ran around the magic itching and snuffing, giving a definite ‘this job sucks’ feel through their bond.

“Funny story,” Blake said. “We got a bit…”

“Shut up.” Mason looked at Demi. “Can you bloom away? I’ll throw Blake and he can float himself. You’re not totally out of mana, are you?”

“Throw me? No I’m not out…I mean I’m low, but I’m not totally out, and wait…what are you…Mason…brother…”

Mason lifted the idiot, jumped to the ground, spun him like a shot put, and threw him towards the city with all his obscene might.

Watching Blake scream like a girl as he flew off was one of the more satisfying moments of the apocalypse. And he’d had a few. Demi hopped down beside him.

“We have to talk about him,” she said, her face more sympathetic than anything. Mason sighed. That Demi and Blake wouldn’t get along famously wasn’t really a shock. But he could sense her mood—smell how she felt. Blake had done something wrong again, worse than just being a nerve-poking prick.

“Not now. Are you alright? Can you float off?”

She nodded, her dangerous magic swirling around them, ignoring him like he was another part of her. He took her in his arms and hesitated to kiss her before she met his lips first, ignoring the blood and the fangs.

“It’s slow, I might be awhile,” she said. “Why not come back with the others? Look after them? You almost died a few days ago to one of this thing’s pawns. Don’t fight it alone.”

“It sounds better if you emphasize almost instead of died,” he said with a grin. When she just glared he took a breath. “Fine. You’re right.” He wiggled his wings. “They might rip with your weight. No idea how the boots work. But want a ride?”

Her beautiful eyes narrowed.

“Are you calling me heavy?”

He laughed and lifted her. Streak stopped and quirked its head with a very betrayed, ‘are you going to leave me here?’ sort of pout. Mason unsummoned him, but not before a final growl of indignation. Then he turned to the city, and jumped.

Demi was screaming before he even tried his wings. Transformation was thickening the wing-flesh, trying to extend the limbs as his back flared with little tearing sounds.

“Oh God oh God oh God.” Demi buried her face in his chest as he tried to flap and stay upright. He was going down for sure, the weight sinking him like a balloon without enough helium. But it was working. They were ‘gliding’.

“You’re missing it,” he called over the sound of the rushing air.

Demi slowly looked out and cringed. They both watched the undead army spread out beneath them. Then Blake as he Telekinetically launched himself above, moving steadily towards the retreating players.

As amazing as the feeling and view was, he still felt that avatar behind him, and Cerebus’ claws on his shoulders, eyes slit with impatience.

I wasn’t the bear, or the tiger, he ‘thought’ to his patron. I was the wolf. And the wolf hunts in a pack.

He was forced to land literally in the middle of the undead army. Demi shrieked as he came down with some help from his boots, picking a good patch of ground to get a few steps and jump again before the creatures knew what was happening.

It was getting easier, and once they were comfortably in the air again, Demi finally looked at him and smiled.

“OK,” she said. “This is a little fun.”

Her long brown hair was flapping in the wind, eyes sparkling, mouth open in a big smile. Her chest was now almost entirely uncovered, and she seemed to be getting more like him…hardly noticing or caring.

He grinned and groped her legs as he flew, pulling her in to kiss without any concern now about being more beast than man. She took his tongue and moaned at his touch, though he had to keep fingers loose so he didn’t so much as touch her with those deadly new claws.

It was a strange reality, and he took a moment. He was flying through the air carrying the girl of his dreams. He had half a dozen more waiting for him, a couple new ones he’d kind of forgotten. All of them wanted him, were willing to share, were his completely.

He had a new family now—men and women he could trust with his life. Men he had trusted. And despite all the danger and madness and suffering, he’d survived and thrived. This new world was his, just as Cerebus said. His to explore and enjoy and protect.

“I can’t believe I found you,” Demi said, watching him.

“I found you, remember?”

She shook her head and grinned.

“I saw you in the neutral zone. You smelled my magic, and became my love slave.”

He laughed and just touched the tips of his claws to her pert little ass. She jumped as her eyes went wide, and he tapped his fingers as she squirmed.

“What did you call me?” he said, sliding his teeth against her ear.

“Umm. My definitely, super in charge, loving, playful man?”

“Hmm.”

He growled and seriously considered fucking her in the air. But it seemed maybe not the greatest idea for his inaugural flight. Amazingly, he could feel her lack of resistance. Like if he decided to do it she was ready to just say ‘to hell with it’ and give him whatever he wanted.

“You’re supposed to be the brake,” he said as her hands drifted over his body. “The sensible one.”

“I can’t. You turn my brain off.”

Well. That didn’t help. He was reminded they were a kind of feedback loop, where his emotion and lust were reflected right back, hers magnified by him.

“First, I end a god. Then you’d better brace yourself. We won’t be making it to the palace.”

She looked half excited, half concerned. It was about where he wanted her.

With Demi in his arms, he flew over the undead army, then the retreating players, landing a ways in front of them with his boots. Half stopped and stared, some hands moving to weapons until they realized who it was. He let Demi down and nodded when Phuong, Carl, and few of his other main people approached.

“Apologies, Patron.” Phuong bowed from the neck. “If you wanted us to attack, that is. I thought it best to fall back to the walls, despite Blake’s order.”

Mason clenched his jaw. He noticed Demi was giving him a knowing look, and he sighed as the pieces fell together. Blake had landed amongst the others and was hanging back looking like their dad had learned he broke curfew. Or possibly a car.

“You did the right thing.”

The undead were chasing but they were slow, and corrective instruction was best done in the moment. He gestured his brother forward with a clawed finger. Blake came with a fake, plastered smile, and Mason looked between him and his officers.

“Blake, you don’t order my people to do anything. Understood?”

He saw the indignation. That annoyingly fragile ego that lurked deep in his brother’s soul. But this wasn’t a joke, and he was gonna have to get over it.

“I didn’t…order them, strictly speaking,” Blake said, “I just suggested that you might possibly…”

You have no position in my house,” Mason growled, taking a step forward. “You chose that, now you live with it. You don’t speak for me. Ever. Say it.”

Blake met his eyes and blinked. He looked surprised, thrown off. Good. Mason wasn’t playing and meant every word. He wasn’t hurt at his brother’s…ongoing failures to be a better partner in all this. He wasn’t angry anymore. He was just dealing with a problem.

“I apologize. I don’t speak for you.”

“Good. Get back in line.”

With no further thought about how Blake felt about it, he turned away, gesturing for his people. He scanned his profile and found messages from Haley that she’d been able to work on the defences the moment the gates were clear. He saw a countdown, and it was damn near perfect. He put a gentle hand on his War Minister’s shoulder.

“Get everyone behind the wall. There’s about to be some changes, so stay out of the danger zones. I’ll distract the dead. Have the melee prepared to come through the gate. All ranged ready to move up to the wall.”

“Understood, Patron.”

Mason pat his shoulder carefully, giving his loyal men a smile.

“Get ready to end a god, gentlemen.”

They all smiled back.


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