The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 466: Sons of Graakus

Blake’s bull-train juggernaut roared in glee as it crushed another beetle-demon. He and the girls held onto their seats as the thing rocked and shook, more demons crawling on the now ripped-open hole on the roof.

The demons couldn’t seem to get through the sides, but the top of the ‘train’ wasn’t armored, and some kind of flying bug-demon had managed to grab a board and tear at least two off before Blake tossed it away with Telekinesis.

Annie stood and slashed off another vaguely insectoid arm as it reached in the gap, then jabbed up with her axe and speared the creature off the side. The train bumped as the creature got crushed beneath its wheels. Annie sat back down without a word.

Blake was busy Meditating with his entire mind, super-charged and boosted by Seul-ki. He was back to a good 40% and rising, but he was hoping to get nearly full. The train was excellent protection and gave them all a break from constant combat. But he’d been expecting to get between portals somewhat faster.

‘Duality of Sentience’ was definitely a double-edged sword. His Bull-train knew what Blake wanted without instruction, and it was taking him between portals. But its personality also left it distracted by every demon remotely in its path, swerving to ram or crush anything it could reach. Also, as a related problem—it wasn’t great at turning. Or stopping. Or figuring out where it was.

The Demon-hunter construct and Doom Donut were running/rolling beside them, hacking down most demons that tried to climb onto the train. All in all they were a very effective little convoy of planar slaughtering fun. They were closing portals at an admirable rate, and maybe even holding them ‘even’ now as they spawned.

But they just kept spawning.

It was getting more and more obvious this ‘event’ was designed for a large group—maybe a real settlement’s worth of players, like the former ‘sanctuary’ they’d removed nearby. Or possibly the orcs were supposed to do something. Or else it wasn’t supposed to be stopped at all…

It did occur to Blake that these demons might be here to conquer a tower or two, creating some kind of demonic beach head from which to invade the world at their leisure. After his experience with the orc king and all the nonsense that followed, he had no real expectation of ‘fairness’ in this world…

“Are we close?” he asked, meaning to the next portal. Seul-ki squinted out the window/murder-hole and shrugged her slim shoulders.

“I think we must be. But I can’t see much of anything.”

Frustratingly, Blake couldn’t either. And he couldn’t just use his constructs to see like he could with people—a weakness he fully intended to rectify when he had more than two seconds to think about it. But for now, unless he stuck Annie out in a driver’s seat or on the roof, he had no way to…

He blinked when he realized he was an idiot, and mentally summoned Navi back. The new and improved beacon of light zipped straight through the wall with what Blake decided was a concerned color.

“Yes, Master?”

“Lead the train to the portals please, Navi. Keep close and shine bright, distract it and make it chase you, if you can.”

“I understand, Master. I’ll try my best.” The little familiar vanished out just as quick, and Blake smiled when he felt the train start to slowly turn.

“Do you think we can succeed?” Seul-ki whispered. “The portals don’t seem to be stopping.”

Blake pat the girl’s leg as if without a shred of doubt. And he fully intended to summon so many constructs his ‘max’ mana was down to nothing, creating a small army of murderous artifice. Only if his entire complement of minions couldn’t keep up or started to break would he begin to admit defeat.

But he had to admit, things weren’t currently looking great. And sooner or later, he suspected, that greater demon was going to spawn. And then Blake’s day might get very interesting indeed…

**

Lord Halvar Stoneblood stood at the front of his Soulguard and clenched his teeth. There were so many Kazikdra—so many creatures of legend here in the world, here to destroy everything he and his kin had toiled so long to build.

And the only thing fighting them were…former enemies. Maybe event current enemies. Humans. The humans responsible for Halvar’s dead kin, for preventing his union with the Lady Ambereye…and yes, he had to admit also, for his rise to lordship.

For a long moment Halvar stood and watched the bizarre, infuriating creatures ride around in their contraption like a more cunning, dangerous, pale race of goblin, no idea how else to think about them.

“There are a great many, lord,” said Farak, Halvar’s second. As was the elder clansman’s way, he said it without fear or arrogance or anything else. It was just an observation. A notable fact he thought his lord should know.

Halvar nodded and met the old warrior’s gaze with a smile.

“Yes. There are.”

He turned and raised his mace and roared for his warriors, and all raised their own weapons and returned it. Halvar swelled with pride and courage that such worthy kin stood at his side. Human allies or no, victory or no, they would make their ancestors proud this day.

He was about to lead a march towards the thickest packs of the ancient foe when he heard the tower portals flickering. He stood and waited, watching clan after clan emerge from the towers behind their lords and shamans.

For a disturbing moment he wondered if they were here for the demons, or for him. He had insulted every lord of the tower before he walked away. But the growing army of orcs at least approached without charging.

“Young Stoneblood,” called the giant warrior at their front, and Halvar did his best not to cringe.

Malik Earthsoul had donned his legendary crimson dragonscale armor, the suit handed down from his forebears since the founding of the towers. He was lord of the ‘brown’ tower—the first and oldest of the holy grounds, which was once said to be painted red. His renowned Honor Guard were in formation, the famous ‘Brown Shaman’ of Clan Earthsoul hobbling at his side. “We are not too late, I trust?”

“No, mighty lord,” said Halvar with a nod. “You are just in time. I was about to advance, though I cannot see the portals.”

Malik nodded, gesturing at the old shaman.

“Hear that, you old menace? All these years I’ve tolerated your whining, and now, when you’re actually needed, this brave warrior has no guide. Send your pig-bellied minions to point out the demon holes.”

The ancient shaman (and Malik’s grandfather) snorted and rolled his remaining eye. He thumped his grandson’s armor with his staff as he sucked his wooden teeth. Then with the slightest gesture, thrummed with arcane power. He mumbled a chant, and the other Earthsoul shamans behind him banged their staffs and took up the words in unison.

Halvar felt the words in his chest. In his soul. He began to hear the names of his ancestors, and felt the power of the earth and the spirit of his people filling his bones. He heard the chanting voices of warriors like thunder in the sky, and soon no longer knew if it was magic or a thousand orcs raising their voices in the tower field.

Malik’s voice pierced it all, the unofficial leader of the towers roaring with a voice made somehow impossibly loud, sounding filled with a righteous fury.

“The ancient foe comes in sunlight? Makes war against us? What will we give them, sons of Graakus?”

“Death!” screamed every warrior of the tower clans in ritual.

The world seemed filled with red mist. Halvar’s heart beat like a drum, a fast but steady rhythm mixed in time with every orc in the field. He felt unstoppable. Immortal. As if with enough orcs they could achieve anything.

The demonic portals now formed as green circles in Halvar’s vision. There were dozens. More than he’d possibly have imagined, swirling with dark mist and a foul miasma he could almost smell.

“Formation!” Boomed the voice of Lord Earthsoul, the mighty orc stepping through the mist to stand at Halvar’s side. He smiled with broken tusks and missing teeth, laughing after filling his lungs with a deep breath.

“Ahh. I had almost forgotten how it felt,” he said with a sigh, than clapped a hand roughly on Halvar’s shoulder. “If you live, young Stoneblood, you will marry my youngest daughter. She’s one of the few of my spoiled brats worth a spit, and my clan needs strong new blood. Our union would unite the towers, don’t you think?”

Malik winked, and Halvar trembled not just with ambition and pride, but with gratitude at such honor. The Earthblood’s youngest daughter was known to be his favorite—not only strong and beautiful, but full of fire. It was rumored she had challenged and killed her last suitor in a duel, and placed his tusks over her bed. Halvar hoped to do better.

He looked at his enemies and marched with the others, no words required now as the orcs moved to the beat of the magic. Snake and Struthio riders from the black tower moved to the flanks, the Soulguard and Malik’s Honor Guard taking the center. A line of the red tower’s skirmishers raced out front with javelins and bows, their wild lord painted but unarmored as he led them.

All around them the Earthsoul shamans walked with staffs held high, their protective magic infusing the tower army with strength and protection from the evil trickery of the Kazikdra. Today, they would learn why the orcs of the holy towers existed.

And somehow Halvar wasn’t surprised when words crawled across the sky in divine guidance.

[Ally with the human forces. Destroy the Greater Demon attempting to enter the primal plane. Reward: New Class rewards for every clan.]

Halvar laughed and gripped his mace without fear, the confirmation of his decision made as plain as sunlight. The humans wouldn’t be their enemies for long. So be it. Hunting demons made a creature worthy almost regardless of anything else.

The gods had chosen Halvar for this moment—had chosen all of them with the chance of increased reward.

With their ancestors watching, they would destroy this ancient foe, and let the gods put them back to whichever hell they belonged.