The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 456: Last charge

When Mason’s battered brain went back to working, he started to worry about the others. His picked himself up and charged towards the herald, hoping if nothing else to get the lion’s share of attention.

His players were starting their attack in a half ring around the demon. Fiery bolts, spear walls, and flying Phuong waves were all loosing towards the demon as the melee players came in. It was possible none of them had any actual powers the thing was vulnerable to, but Mason tried not to worry about that.

Instead he went right back to loosing a never-ending hail of arrows at the big bastard’s head and chest, grinning as a few of his arrows struck and sprayed demonic ichor. The herald slashed his blade across the ground, and something like a rainbow of dark hues started growing up.

That was when Mason took another good look at his people, and noticed Dariya and Ayet. The elven women were just standing on the outside of the portal like gawking tourists—as if there wasn’t a giant, spell-blasting demon less than a hundred yards away. He lost the rhythm of his shots as he tried to figure out what the actual hell.

But it wasn’t like he could go get Carl and chew him out. The ‘Glassassin’ was probably warping around slashing the demon and actually doing something useful. Or at least that’s what Mason hoped he was doing.

Mostly he tried to focus, to ignore the world’s worst color palette, and keep filling the demon with arrows. Unsurprisingly, the layers of dark formed into a kind of shield that was now blocking even the giant demon from Mason’s sight. He turned on his Aspect and ran full speed to get around, trying not to panic at the sound of his players fighting.

There were also more demons charging at them from every other existing portal. Violet, Streak and his pack were intercepting, launching at or digging up from under the stragglers and generally ripping them apart. It looked like Dariya was even using the occasional spell to help.

But they needed more support. Mason ran close enough to yell, but he didn’t see Carl or Phuong in all the chaos.

“Garet!” He pointed when both spearmen looked. “Guard the rear!”

The increasing number of demons coming at them seemed obvious, and Mason hoped the usually tactical warrior would understand he should use others if necessary. Because there was no time for more explanation.

Mason got around the layered shield, and kept shooting. The thing was making more layers but they weren’t up yet and he intended to make every second count.

He got closer and closer as he kept loosing a never-ending stream of arrows, trusting his players to distract and survive. His ever-increasing stats and practice made aiming second nature, even at what had become an objectively absurd rate of fire.

He pulled back the string with just enough power to strike with a small drop, trying to release the arrows a fraction of a second after they formed.

He was aiming for the thing’s head—the eyes, the mouth, the neck. Though instead of sinking in, his arrows were vanishing with flashes of green light and spraying shadow. But he knew it was working. The creature’s face had twisted into a snarl, its eyes no longer the brazen scowl of threat. It looked hurt.

And the frantic gaze was familiar now—seen on beasts and men and ‘planar creatures’ alike. The demon was afraid. It wasn’t sure if it was the hunter anymore. It was starting to realize it might be the prey.

But it hadn’t given up yet. With a roar it stomped a massive hoof, and several new portals opened on the forest floor inside its growing ‘shields’. Becky was in there, Mason knew. And probably Carl and Phuong.

Whatever the demon was doing, it was trying to shrink the battlefield first. If time was on Mason’s side he might have run back and watched before he decided. But these portals were getting worse and needed to be stopped. And he had to protect the others.

Mason activated Aspect of the Cheetah and closed for the gaps, still loosing arrows en route. He didn’t stop until he’d gotten close enough to charge, deciding it was time to try his Essence of the Stag when he saw no demons rising.

His players could handle the new enemies. Mason was going to put down their leader.

His power flared, but nothing much happened from his perspective. Except the demon’s red eyes flared and turned directly at him. With another roar the creature’s huge black sword cut a path through the smoke and swung as Mason came in.

There wasn’t much room between the shields and portals. Mason was forced to jump over swirling circles of dark energy on the floor. The abyssal environment was weakened but still in effect, and Apex Predator blinked with a kind of question. Mason declined.

To avoid the sweeping blade he was forced to roll straight through a portal. Something cold and sharp prickled all over his skin, tearing it. But losing skin was better than losing a limb.

Mason was up and moving in a blink, close enough now to slash the huge demon as he circled it cutting from waist to calf. The same flashes of energy and demonic ichor splattered and flared, the creature’s body twisting with a mix of smoke.

The swords definitely weren’t killing it quickly. But Mason wasn’t sure what else he could do without putting his friends in extreme danger. Or was running back and killing it faster with his bow the best way to protect the others?

He couldn’t decide. But the demon didn’t seem likely to give him the time to think it through. Instead it twisted and stomped, slashing its now awkwardly large sword as it tried to cut Mason off and cut him in half against a shield.

Mason narrowly avoided a slash, falling back and scrambling for another path before the demon roared and turned away.

Hello Carl, Mason thought with a grin. He stepped back and vanished his Claws, forming his bow and loosing another Power Shot in a satisfyingly smooth motion. The arrow sprayed a chunk of demonic ichor, and the demon seemed to be still chasing after Carl, as if struggling to see through Mason’s power.

Mason circled to try and get a better look at his friends, but had to stop and stare as a new swirling shadow grew between the demon’s shields and just above its head. He had no idea what was happening, but he had a very bad feeling.

More out of precaution than anything he pulled up his new Earthsoul gem and kept it at the mental ready. It said it would dispel any kind of magic except Nature. Did he have to do something? Be in the effect? RoboGod hadn’t exactly left an instruction manual.

No big deal, Mason thought. Just my life and the lives of all my friends and maybe humanity at stake. Why not let Jesus take the wheel?

A kind of humming started, the swirling shadows moving faster and faster over the demon’s head. Mason was well past concerned now. He ran towards the others to tell them to get the hell back, to get away from the portal and just keep on running.

Fortunately, it seemed like most of them already had. The only people left were Becky—who stood at the edge of the portal with both her physical and magical shields clearly raised—and…the elves.

Ayet stood with a terrified but determined expression at the edge of the portal, her half slashed off silks blowing in an unnatural wind. The old seer behind her looked barely fit to stand. Mason wanted to tell them to run, but he could hardly hear himself think over the sound.

It built to a crescendo and stopped, and Mason couldn’t tell if it was relief or panic when his Earthsoul gem went bright before his eyes. He mentally mashed it, still loosing arrows with every second the demon gave him.

Dark energy flared like an explosion. The demon roared and cackled madly over the sound, and Mason tried not to compare it to Seamus. The abyssal magic hit him and vanished in a sphere, not even triggering any of his defensive powers as the dark wind just broke around him.

But he could still see the others. Becky blasted back behind her shield, feet sliding as she held and obviously cried out as she tried to hold her ground. Not that Mason could hear her. The energy went far past—chasing after the fleeing players with a blast wave of force.

Mason could only watch in helpless horror. The energy washed over at least two players before it came to a stop, the swirling shadow above the herald fading in more of a whimper than a bang. The demon snarled and stepped towards Becky and the elves.

“Moon witches. I thought I smelled you. Have your people forgotten why they fear my kind? I will teach the lesson again.”

Mason lifted his bow, and kept loosing arrows, a growing panic as the demon just ignored him and walked with its massive, half-floating stride. Becky was there, but she couldn’t stop it. Not a creature with this kind of power. His players were running back and Mason hoped it would be enough, but they needed time.

“Run, Ayet! Run to the warriors!” he shouted, trying to activate Essence of the Stag again, but it was on some kind of cooldown. What the hell could he do?

He had traps and lightning and a kind if ice-based magic snare, but he didn’t trust any of it to stop this thing. He could draw his blades and charge but it hurt it even less, and he didn’t think he could stop a creature half made of smoke with his body.

Shit. Think!

Stag, he called through his bond. How do we stop it? Can it leave the portal?

It can, came back a panting answer. I will slow it, ranger.

Mason had no idea what that meant. Then he saw the creature charging straight at the demon, horns lowered in challenge. It sprinted easily past the players and tossed Ayet’s flowing clothes with a blast of wind as it flew by.

To Mason’s eyes, at least, the fey animal grew twice and maybe three times its size. It snorted and drew the demon’s attention, that huge blade lifting with murderous intent as the monster stopped and aimed.

It was like watching a plane fall from the sky. Mason kept trying to distract and damage with his own arrows, but he dared not even speak through his bond to distract the Stag. All he could do was hope it somehow swerved. Or charged past the blade in time to strike.

It didn’t.

The demon’s weapon struck and sliced through the creature’s antlers, chopping down and severing a chunk of the animal’s head and shoulder as the blade finally buried in the earth. But it didn’t stop it.

The stag leapt through the air spraying blood, ramming into the demon’s gut with half its horns and enough force to actually push the demon back. Then Stag seemed to shrink, as if the greater size was only an illusion.

The herald planted his feet and grabbed it with a clawed hand, lifted it, and cut it in half with its blade. He tossed half the body away and roared, and Mason felt the animal vanish from his consciousness.

He blinked but kept any emotion for its proper time, only allowing enough anger to keep his bow arm moving back and forth, loosing an arrow again and again at any piece of the demon he could think of.

His players were back now and forming a half circle. Another stream of fire. Tossed potions that exploded in strange energy. Phuong-blasts that struck with enough force they actually staggered the huge demon back. Mason had no idea how much damage they were all doing, but it was obvious the herald was shrinking. He had to be almost half the size he’d started. They were killing it.

With the distraction of his friends, Mason started channeling a lightning bolt with as much energy as he could draw, hoping the son of a bitch was almost down.