The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 636: The Ice Princess



Mason opened his eyes in the ‘extreme challenge, mortal’ dungeon with Claws gripped in his hands. The first thing he saw was the cold, marble floors of a huge entrance hall. He expected danger from every direction. He was like his now mocked catch phrase—ready for anything. Ready to suffer. To kill. To survive.

“Welcome to the court of the Unseelie. Can I take your coat, or…your…armor, I guess. Is that part of you? Hmm. I could at least bring you a drink!”

He looked up to find a floating…tray. With a face. It resembled Blake’s familiar, some kind of flying servant construct. Beyond it was a beautiful, sculpture-covered entrance hall, with stairs leading up and down, and huge doors to another room beyond.

He put his Claws away with a sigh, ignoring the construct as he wandered towards the doors. It was fair to say a ‘civilized greeting’ wasn’t how he expected this to start.

“Oh. No…wait! You have to be announced! I’ll get in all kinds of trouble!”

“Trouble with who.” Mason stopped at the door and held a hand in front of the latch.

“With the princess,” said the construct, voice wavering with fear. “You’re expected, of course. I’d be happy to inform her you’ve arrived. She likes to do things properly.”

He shook his head, fighting the impatience and ridiculous idea of being kind to a construct inside a construct made by a robot.

“Just be quick about it.”

He crossed his arms and glared as the little creature zipped through a kind of doggy door. Eyes closed, he focused on anything he could hear inside, not getting much except quiet, murmuring voices at the end of another large room. One with Nature came up almost blank. Whatever was in this place, not much of it was considered ‘alive’. Or else it blocked his power.

The construct returned with a wide smile, then the huge doors creaked open to reveal another pair of giant golems or elementals that looked made of ice.

“King Mason Wolf, Champion of Cerebus!” the little construct announced.

He took another steadying breath before walking through, sort of hoping those elementals tried to crush him. When they stepped aside, he frowned and walked down a blue carpet towards the opposite end of the hall.

Several of the white-skinned and dark-haired male ‘elves’ sat in ornate chairs in a semi-circle at the foot of a raised dais, attending a monarch sitting on a throne above. He assumed this was the ‘princess’—a woman covered completely in a purple dress that belonged on the Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland.

She stared at Mason with completely blue, glowing eyes. Her face was attractive, if slightly alien, with features much like Naya and the other elves except with skin the pallor of a corpse.

He walked towards her without concern, muscles twitching and ready, senses scanning everything. He was prepared for the golems to charge. For the elves to attack. For magic to spring out of the walls.

In fact, he hoped it did.

“You are everything mother promised and more,” the princess said from her throne, still staring. “What sort of man would willingly enter this place?”

Her voice was surprisingly light and pleasant and…alive. He’d expected something more like the goddess. Some kind of blast of icy wind that howled through his ears.

“A man who wants power,” he said, walking closer.

He hid his smile as the attendees started to shift and squirm with poorly concealed fear. Even the princess seemed unsure what he’d do, though he could sense the many layers of mana and probably protective spells around her.

“I am Lilith, princess of the winter palace. And power is something I can offer.” The princess quirked her head and crossed her legs, enough of the purple dress shifting to show bare, snow-white skin. “But you will have to earn it. ”

Despite the delightful show of flesh, he somehow doubted she meant in the bedroom. Though it was a pleasant fantasy. He took a breath and gestured for her to go on.

“With the…ascendance of your sire, the spring and summer fey creatures are becoming unruly. They forget the rules. The boundaries. They test my mother’s claims.”

Mason didn’t mind the sound of that. Beating on a few fey creatures was something he’d felt was a long time coming. Spring, summer, fall, he really didn’t give a shit. The wild creatures of the fey plane seemed like they could use a bit more fear of him as a general principle.

“I assume you want me to enforce said rules and boundaries.”

The princess nodded, then gestured for one of her attendants. The man rose and came forward with an empty, glass cylinder.

“This contained a magic rose that blooms even in winter. I like to look at it every morning cycle on the prime. But it was stolen from my garden. By a hag, run off to her disgusting little swamp. I want it back. I want the hag’s head. And I want the head of her son, as a warning.”

The ‘ice princess’ didn’t look quite as attractive when she was asking for heads. Mason took a deep breath, again wishing for some simpleminded battle to the death. Preferably with undead and constructs, or something else he wouldn’t feel even slightly bad about killing.

“The hag’s head seems…let’s say harsh but fair, considering how stupid something would have to be to steal from you. But her son? That doesn’t sound like justice.”

Apparently the ice princess was even less attractive when she didn’t get her way. Her face curled with rage, hands gripping the arms of her throne as she leaned forward and stared like her eyes would bludgeon him into submission.

He wasn’t surprised when the magic struck. It looked like all his titles and resistances were gearing up until ‘Champion of Cerebus’ pinged with a soft green light, and the magic came to an abrupt halt. He decided to just stand there and wait for the princess to calm down. It took a minute.

“It refuses me!” she shrieked. “In my realm? How dare it?”

The sweet, feminine voice was replaced by what he’d expected. Wind howled across the throne room. The pale, elven attendants covered their faces and hunkered down like penguins. The little construct squealed and raced for its doggy door. Mason tongued at some meat caught in his teeth.

Lilith shouted some more crazy shit about freezing his blood and snapping off his limbs, making a sculpture of his corpse in her doorway.

“Yeah,” he said, waving a hand. “So how about a compromise? I’ll bring you the whole hag. You can do all that freezing stuff you like. You get your flower and make her an ice scarecrow. I get a reward. We part as friends, and everyone in the fey sees it. How’s that sound?”

Lilith kept on giving him that death stare until the wind died. Then just like that, her face transformed back into the pleasant princess. She sat back in her throne and smiled, rubbing her legs together.

“Friends. I think I’d like that. And your mercy does you credit, prince—the sons of spring can afford such pleasantries. I would enjoy having the hag alive. But you will find it no simple task. I mean no offence, but you are young and inexperienced. The hag’s lair may prove difficult, even with all your…great strength.”

Lilith’s eyes raked his body as she smiled.

“Well.” Mason shrugged. “That’s my problem. Just tell me where to find her, I’ll do the rest.”

Lilith raised a hand, and a swirling blue portal opened not far from the dais.

“In her arrogance, the hag did not hide. She knew I would smell her presence long after she stole my rose. She knows I would never step foot in her lair, far from my power, and so close to hers.”

The princess stood from her throne and came down the steps, purple robe flowing with magic. It looked almost see through for tiny moments, so quick Mason was hardly sure he’d seen.

Her heels clacked across the marble as she approached him, blue orbs locked on his eyes. She moved like a creature hardly troubled by physics. Like she might cross the room in a blink. She came close enough to touch, then leaned forward and sniffed him with a deep inhale. She closed her eyes and smiled.

“The flower. The hag. And dinner in my private chambers. Then you will have your reward, prince of spring. My chef is excellent, I promise you will not regret it.”

He wasn’t so sure about that. But the challenge of the woman appealed. And he wasn’t afraid of her. His resistance had already proved more than capable of handling her magic.

If ‘private dinner’ really meant ‘weird, fantasy creature sex’, a small concern about what Demi might think flashed through his mind. Not because she’d be jealous, per se. She’d already demonstrated that wasn’t a problem.

But this was a sort of a divine representation of the goddess she’d rejected. He couldn’t see why it would matter, though maybe it would annoy her somehow. Still, if it made the princess happy, and he made it quick, and kept his mouth shut about it. It was ‘probably’ just a dinner.

“Time is a luxury I rarely have. But I could spare…an evening.”

Lilith smiled with red lips, color exaggerated on her pale skin. She scanned him again from head to toe.

“Bargain agreed, then. Good luck, prince. I eagerly await your return.”

[Dungeon objective: Capture Night Hag Moritha alive. Return her and the Winter Rose to Princess Lilith. Reward: A divine artifact.]

Seeing the reward made an authentic smile very easy. He turned and walked for the portal, wondering what the hell a hag lair was. But it hardly mattered. He’d go in, and come out with his prey.

As he stepped to the portal, he gave the ice princess one last look, trying not to imagine what was under that dress.

If it was weird, fantasy creature sex, maybe he could spare one night. Time did move slower in the fey…


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