The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 172: Good day

Blake learned a considerable amount over the next twelve hours. First, he'd made his old constructs…very stupidly.

His 'defender' form had taught him just as much from what it couldn't do as what it could. At first it had seemed just vastly superior in every way—it was much bigger and stronger, basically, thicker and obviously more durable.

But it explicitly couldn't have stabbing or slashing parts. It was limited to some form of big brute, smashing or grabbing with whatever version of limb or head it had.

This taught him his other constructs could be made with slashing or piercing parts, and not just wimpy little claws. He could give them sword arms, spears as long as a man, spiked maces and picks.

No wonder they hadn't been able to hurt the damn demon, he realized. He hadn't given them any weapons! If it hadn't been for the innate power of the Arcanes, and the height of the pit that eventually killed the thing, Blake would have died in that room. And it would have been his own damn fault.

When his twelve hours were up he was completely mana drained and exhausted, still Meditating and just wishing he had more time. More or less he'd been playing battle bots with himself, sending temporary construct against temporary construct over and over before Meditating and doing it again.

But he hadn't tried team fights, flying, more 'animal' constructs, and a thousand other combinations. Ilya mostly just watched from the wall, sometimes wandering, sometimes playing with 'Bibi'.

"You know it's going to disappear," he told her after she gave it a name. She stared like he was about to...well, kill her kitten. "I could make a permanent one. I just...didn't. He's not alive."

"How do you know," she said, but obviously wasn't too upset. She gave the 'cat' another good pat on its smooth skin, then seemed like she was about to come up with some elaborate goodbye when the thing fell apart and vanished into dust. "Guess that means it's time to sleep," she said with a sigh. "Oh, can you make a bed? Er." She went slightly yellow. "Beds?"

Blake looked at the hard, cold floor and supposed that should have occurred to him. With eight hours he had plenty of time to regain, though, so he drew a little mana from his gem and created a fairly simple, large mattress.

"Yes, yes I can," he grinned, testing to find it at least reasonably soft. But the brain pain of being manaless was real, and he more or less just slumped onto it and closed his eyes. "You don't have to worry," he said. "I won't...bother you. Let's get some sleep."

Ilya sat on the far side of the other mattress, bouncing on it and smiling as she finally settled in. Her robe rode up one shapely leg to reveal there wasn't much underneath. But new Blake was a man of his word. A respectable man of…honor. Or something.

So far at least. He closed his eyes and did his best not to think about kissing and touching her back in her friend's tent, closing a hand around the magic orc stone in his pocket.

"I think we should try to get to my house," she said after a few minutes. "I doubt they're guarding it. And we could hide in the secret alcove, and at least I know some routes to escape there. I...don't know where else to go. I don't think we can trust any of the chiefs."

Blake heard the fear in the girl's voice and turned to face her. "OK. That's what we'll do." He smiled until she met his eyes. "We're going to be alright, Ilya. I promise."

She smiled back, and it wasn't just politeness in her exotic, beautiful eyes, he decided. He hadn't used Mental Influence or tried to trick her, because he truly believed they would survive, and they'd win. All he'd had to do was show her that belief, and she believed too. Because she trusted him.

"Get some rest," he said, fighting his attraction and laying down. First he opened his still damaged but repairing Mental Partition and pulled back his Influence and Control powers, knowing he may need them in the tower. He wouldn't use them on his friends or allies anymore, that much he'd decided. But he'd sure as hell use them on his enemies.

He also realized this wasn't just about him. RoboGod could say whatever it wanted—could give him whatever objectives it wanted. He didn't care about Gromsh and never really had.

No doubt he was just some orc as screwed up and overwhelmed by the power of the system as Blake and the others. But killing him both meant escaping this trap, and now saving Ilya. So King Gromsh was going to die.

Blake closed his eyes, Meditating and focusing on his Partition. In the days ahead, he was going to need every tool in his arsenal, including Duality of Ambition, which had seemed to do absolutely nothing except boost his constructs overall.

But Blake knew that wasn’t how these things worked. Mason had warned him of a price for his mental powers and he’d been right. He had suffered when he used his own ‘Duality’. And Blake no longer had any illusions that he’d escape his own. He just didn’t yet know how, or when…

* * *

"Ready?" Blake said, standing at the demon's altar with Ilya, Navi, and two new Arcane constructs as the last few minutes ticked down.

"Ready," she said, holding onto his arm.

It had occurred to him that she wasn't able to 'teleport' in, and that maybe she couldn't teleport out. But he also figured the dungeon just sort of 'ejected' them when the timer ran out, so he figured he'd try the altar and see. Then if it didn't work he'd be out just ahead of her. That it might not send her out at all he refused to contemplate.

Finally he touched the altar and looked at the prompt, which seemed to indicate it knew he had a group. That was promising, at least. He accepted the exit, and the world vanished as Ilya squeezed his arm.

Then he was standing at the front of the 'ancient orc mine', and Ilya was still holding his hand.

"That was amazing!" she whispered, looking around the cavern.

His constructs had come too, which was somewhat expected but also a relief. Why Ilya should suddenly get to interact with the dungeon like a player now he didn't know, but guessed it might be because she hadn't had a proper 'class' before and now did. But then with roboGod you just couldn't know. Maybe today the 'subsystem' in charge just felt like it.

"I expected guards," Blake said quietly, a bit shocked, and still ready to make liberal use of Mind Control. The wooden boards he'd broken to get inside were back up, suspiciously identical to the way they'd been before. He was starting to think the dungeon had sort of 'reset' itself, and that the orcs had no idea they'd actually come in here.

He turned around and tried to get back inside. But there was no prompt now. Just a blocked mineshaft covered in rubble.

"Damn," he muttered, looking out from the few gaps in the wooden boards.

"Could we just hide here?" Ilya said, and Blake tapped his chin.

He decided on a resounding ‘maybe’. There were too many holes in the boards, and the wood was too thin. He could maybe plug them with magic, but the damn orc city was just outside, and they could hear the creatures moving constantly. There was also absolutely nowhere to run if they were found.

"Let's go to your house," he said, focusing on his constructs until they collapsed and vanished.

"I'm not getting used to that," Ilya said, then gestured at her robe and threw up her hands. "I need something...less conspicuous. Could you go first and find me something? There's cloth sellers. Fur. If you can..."

Blake grinned and focused as he created a pre-planned outfit with True Making, hoping it wouldn't be the last.

"Enjoy. But they vanish at midnight," he said, holding out some plain clothes much like she'd worn when they first met. "You’re just like Cinderella."

Ilya shook her head then gestured for Blake to turn around, which he did only slowly and with a wink. Apparently he was getting horny enough just the sounds of her clothes hitting the floor was enough to get him going, and he let out as much thirst as he could with a deep sigh.

"And what's Cinderella?" Ilya said, stepping up beside him as she tied back her hair.

"Human princess," Blake said, inspecting his handiwork with pride.

"And she wore common rags like these?" Ilya stared, obviously far less impressed.

"No, not the...nevermind. Are you ready? Remember—if we're challenged, don't run, don't make a scene, just stop and do what they..."

"And you'll control their minds, I know." She sighed. "Sometimes I can't believe I'm allied with a human mind mage. My father would turn in his grave."

Her tone was light at first, but darkened as she spoke of her dead father. Blake took her arm and have it a squeeze, pulling up his hood.

"Let's go end the monster that put him there."

Ilya nodded, then Blake opened just enough of the boards with Telekinesis for them to stroll on through, like they were just out for a pleasant walk.

A homeless orc sat right outside, staring as Blake hovered the boards in the air as he and Ilya passed. The orc gaped with an open mouth, broken tusks hanging as his eyes went back and forth between Blake and Ilya.

"Good day," Blake said, taking Ilya forward without hurry. Then he put all the boards back where they'd been, floating them Fantasia style as he walked off without another word.