The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 162: Everything…copacetic?

Trees. Trees everywhere. Smoke and the coppery tang of blood filled the air, familiar and welcome and…good.

Mason felt danger but wasn’t afraid. He stepped over tree roots and swept branches until he found the clearing he knew would be ahead.

A giant of a man with antlers sat on a vine and bramble throne atop a platform of bones. His body was a mountain of muscle covered in scars, only a long loincloth covering him from waist to knees. His green and golden eyes watched Mason, his chin resting in one hand.

“Marked by Gaia,” he grumbled with a voice deep as the sea. “A strutting peacock. A scented flower.” He held out a hand, and two nymphs huddled at his feet rose with a basin full of water. He looked inside and snorted. “Salmon. A spawning breeder. In pursuit of what? Peace? Wisdom? You bore me.”

Mason came closer and could see inside the bowl, seeing images flicker across the water. He saw gnolls. He saw himself covered in blood, then acid, killing the Devourer, killing orcs and players and wolves.

“Still,” the horned-man smiled. “There is hope for you, I think. Show me your weapons.”

Mason practically growled as he summoned his Claws.

“Good,” said the man. “The druids have not yet corrupted you completely. Now fight. Fight for your life. Fight for your dignity. Fight for your soul.”

A bear twice Mason’s size emerged from the trees and roared. Branches grew from its head and body, rising up and connecting to the trees like a spider’s webs. It rose up on its hind legs and practically beat its chest with its claws.

Mason activated Aspect of the Cheetah, and charged. He could hear Cerebus or whatever the hell it was laughing with delight as he raced at the bear. But that didn’t stop him.

The bear dropped and swiped with one massive paw, but Mason sped past and rolled between its legs, slicing one with Crippling Strike and moving straight through. He turned and struck with Predator’s Strike and another slice with his smaller Claw before leaping back as the bear turned.

“Where are your precious druids now?” boomed the giant. “Does their wisdom shield you? Does their precious lust for life kill your enemy?”

The bear roared and chased, bleeding and enraged. Mason withdrew but hacked every time it extended a paw, cutting away chunks of flesh and claw.

“You must first survive to breed. To gain knowledge. Only the worthy last. Only the strong.”

Mason mostly tried to ignore the words, but he couldn’t help but agree. He hacked at the bear and kept away until it lost its patience and charged. The clearing had only so much space and he had only moments to decide—under, or around?

He went to the side, slashing at thick fur but forcing himself to get close enough to sink his blades deep. The bear turned and swiped but Mason was too fast. Then it charged again, this time recklessly with mouth open wide.

Mason leapt straight at it, and sunk his longer sword straight into its throat. The roar stopped as blood and air hissed from its neck, huge body trembling then falling as Mason sliced and finished it.

“Good!” The giant had come forward in his throne, clutching at it with enthusiasm. “The hunter does not ask why. He takes. He kills. He eats.”

The word sent a tremble through Mason’s body, and he remembered Nature’s Wrath and used it on the corpse just to see its anatomy. He could see the heart still beating slowly and dropped to his knees, cutting his way through the animal’s body until he seized it.

Still it beat. Strong. The sound like some ancient music only Mason could hear. He stared as he held the huge organ in his hands, watching it rise and fall. Then he leaned forward, took a bite, and chewed.

The taste…was wrong, revolting. He spit it out and tossed the thing away.

“Pah!” Cerebus growled. “Just as I expected, you’re weak. You wouldn’t eat younglings to survive, would you? Or to put your mate in heat. Or kill a rival before he could challenge you. Why should I give you power when you won’t even use it?

“My strength…” Mason spit blood. “…is to protect what’s mine. Not to take what isn’t.”

The bear’s corpse just vanished. Growls came from everywhere around the circle, familiar enough Mason blinked and looked for Streak.

“How noble.” It was clear what the giant thought of that word. “First you must claim something to protect.”

Wolves came snarling from every direction. They looked much like those Mason found in the great woods, if slightly paler and larger. He lowered his weapons and stared at the first to arrive.

[Apex Predator activated.]

The wolves all stopped snarling and sat, covering their teeth with their lips. Mason smiled.

“A druid’s trick!” growled Cerebus. “But what if you find an enemy who can’t be fooled?”

Another, much larger beast leaped into the clearing, its body a fearful symmetry of stripes and muscle and claws. The huge tiger smashed the nearest wolf from its feet, sending it flying back with a whine. Mason activated Speak with Nature.

[Stay back. Attack only once I’ve engaged him.]

The wolves obeyed and circled, their low, angry growls comforting to Mason’s ears. He met the tiger’s eyes and couldn’t help but grin. Here was a worthy foe. It faced him not with fear, or pride, but as a hunter born. Mason felt no fear dying to such a thing die. That was a worthy death.

He lifted a rock, infused it with Trapmaking, then tossed it at the tiger. The beast pulled back and snarled as shrapnel burst near its ear, then Mason was charging with Aspect of the Cheetah. He struck with Predator’s Strike before it could pull away, longer blade cutting a trench of red across the tiger’s face.

He instantly fell back, knowing the tiger would chase him in an angry frenzy, claws extended and fangs exposed as it pounced like a cat with a mouse.

The wolves leaped at his flanks. The tiger twisted to thrash and claw them away, and Mason lunged for its throat.

But the tiger was damn fast and turned again, Mason’s blade bouncing off collar bone as it caught and chomped down hard on his arm.

Its teeth failed to break the Sleeve. But it still hurt, and the fangs pierced skin and some muscle, though they didn’t reach bone. The tiger bit with all its might, unable to understand perhaps how such a little thing could resist it. Mason grunted with effort as he lifted his arm, then cut the creature’s throat underneath.

It fell and stared into his eyes, still biting, still unable to accept it couldn’t chew through Mason’s arm. Its blood pumped onto the ground as its eyes fluttered.

“You fought well,” Mason whispered. “Rest now.”

He felt no pleasure as the tiger died. But when he finally rose and saw the pack waiting, and felt the life still in his veins, he closed his eyes and breathed the moist air. He heard the wolves chewing but wasn’t bothered. It was just their way.

Then one stepped before him and dropped a massive heart at his feet, and Mason smiled as he recognized Streak. He knelt and took his Claw, cutting strips and chunks until he had enough for every wolf.

[We fought together. We eat together.]

They did, and this time Mason tasted only meat and life and fraternity. He looked up at the silent, horned God as he chewed.

“No lone hunter beats a strong pack,” he said. “That’s what us clever apes learned. And who are you to judge me? All your strength, all your power. What have you done with it. End this nonsense. All I want from you is my friend back. Nothing more.”

Cerebus smiled slowly, then laughed.

“Such arrogance! Claim your prize, young ranger. But do not forget the strength of the bear or the tiger, who care nothing for the will of others. And remember this: Gaia is life’s mistress, not its master. She is a mare to to be rut and bred, mounted like her daughters. She knows creation, not survival, for whatever creature wins is the same to her. Never forget what you are—nothing, until you’ve survived.”

Mason had no idea what to make of that. But he felt the world changing around him, vanishing and returning until he stood at the same rune-covered totem with his hand against the wood and symbols. He wasn’t even sure he’d actually moved.

[Essence test complete. Implementing. Essence of the Wolf. Gain the ability to bond a limited number of animal companions.]

[Animal companion detected. Would you like to bond {Great Taiga Wolf} now?]

Streak was suddenly right in front of him, staring. Ghostly wolves sat on their haunches all around him, and somehow Mason knew it was the wolf’s father and forefathers going back a thousand years.

A pact, he thought, between the living and the dead. A unity between wolf and man. Mason smiled, knowing it was right. They were just two animals in a long line that had already bonded. He accepted the prompt.

The wolves howled, and Mason felt his eyes roll back in pleasure. It was like the greatest music he’d ever heard, a symphony of voices singing every frequency his ears could hear all at once, a wall of sound that pierced his soul.

He was sure he joined them but couldn’t hear his own voice. All he could see was a dark night sky and a moon that lit the world. Not in light, not in darkness, but somewhere in between. The time of the wolf.

He shuddered as the now familiar body-length shiver of system attention flooded through him from toes to scalp.

[Class modification detected. Would you like to replace prestige class ‘Avatar of Gaia’ with ‘Avatar of Cerebus’?]

Mason stared, expecting something like this to happen but still undecided. The truth was—despite its power—he hated his prestige class ability ‘Duality of Life’. It made him feel like he was losing himself, like it was somehow beyond his control. But he knew his class had also modified his Ranger’s Mark and boosted his mana considerably. Would he be giving all that up? And what would he get in return?

Yet his primary class was ranger, and the druids he’d encountered had seemed to sense the same. He was a druid, yes, but a ranger first. Maybe it was all system-generated nonsense, but something about it was still…true.

Survival had been his watchword since he was a small boy—the only way to exist in a harsh world: to be strong enough to withstand it.

He accepted the prompt, and braced himself. He knew what was coming, but that made it no less hard to take.

* * *

Mason grit his teeth as his body clenched with the system’s electrical attention. The pain seemed slightly diminished, fortunately, which he hoped continued as something of a trend. Several messages floated before his eyes.

[Changed Prestige Class to: Avatar of Cerebus.]

[Power: Duality of Life changed to Duality of Strength. Passive. From suffering, wisdom. From failure, growth.]

[Synergy removed: Nature’s Wrath ===> Ranger’s Mark.]

[New Synergy Detected: Regeneration+ ===> Transformation. What doesn’t kill you, really should have.]

As he read the changes several thoughts hit him at once. First, losing nature’s wrath sucked. But he probably hadn’t used it as much as he should have anyway. Second, the lack of actual explanations for anything was really starting to piss him off. And third, what in the name of God did ‘transformation’ mean?

Of course there was nothing he could do about it anyway. And it was time to check his profile and figure out what ‘bond’ had actually done.

Oh. Apparently there was a Bonded Companion ‘tab’. He opened it and saw Streak’s name, along with a dull green color that said ‘Bond level: low’, whatever the hell that meant. It looked like there was place holders for maybe a list of statistics and even a power list, with apparently something called…

[Shared Pain: Fight together, die together.]

Mason was actually greatly comforted by the possibility of that. But for now he blinked it all away and turned towards the totem, looking for his friend.

“Streak?” he called. “Are you alright?”

The wolf leapt down from some nearby rocks, tongue out and tail wagging as he crossed the gap. Mason grinned, then knelt and held out his arms, but slowly froze as the wolf got closer.

Its eyes were glowing green like Mason’s. And he’d…uh, grown.

Streak basically plowed into Mason’s face with his chest. It nearly knocked him over, then he had to stand up to actually look…just slightly down on the creature. Streak’s head was over five feet high.

He made several growling, whining sounds as he tried to leap up and lick and paw at Mason with his massive feet, and in that moment Mason decided it was a bloody good thing he had roboGod superpowers.

“Happy to…see you too, buddy.” He scratched and pat with abandon until the animal finally calmed and plopped down for belly rubs. Mason laughed. At least his personality hadn’t changed.

Phuong cleared his throat, and it occurred to Mason that the players had all been witnessing…whatever the hell they’d just witnessed. Mason smiled a little sheepishly as he scratched Streak, not entirely sure what to say.

“So, um. Everything…copacetic?” Seamus said from nearby, his voice slightly raised in pitch.

“Yeah.” Mason let the anxiety for his friend roll off his shoulders, knowing at least some of it had really been for Blake. “I’m good. I think. Now let’s go kill a shitload of goblins.”