The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 203: A good fish deal

There was no sign on Wayfinder of any kind of bridge or obvious crossing. That didn't mean there wouldn't be smaller sections, however, and Mason and the others wandered down the river bank for a few minutes before Streak practically came flying out of the water.

An image of something big and scaled flashed through Mason's mind, and his Claws were out as he readied for a fight.

"God damnit, Streak," he muttered. Becky and Seamus looked confused, but Phuong just drew his blade.

Streak grumbled and shook off some water, meeting Mason's eyes.

"It can't leave the river," Mason said with a little relief. "But I think swimming is probably out. That is unless..."

He stopped as the faint scent of troll hit him on the wind. Streak growled and confirmed it, and Mason swept the trees for movement.

"Perfect. We're still being chased, apparently." He looked at Phuong. "Fight the goblins, or cross?"

"A bridge seems unlikely. If we fight..." The old warrior frowned after a slight pause. "We still have to cross. But if we cross now, we may not have to fight."

Mason nodded. It wasn't what he wanted to do, but that was likely just a refusal to accept reality. They didn't know how many goblins or trolls were coming, either. Better to run when they weren't getting shot at. He wasn't concerned for himself, but the others...

"Let's go, then. If you don't feel confident in the water, drop your pack right now. Seamus..." Mason knew the man didn't have the physique to handle a freezing, fast moving river. "Just hold onto Streak, he'll take you."

The wolf whined but Mason ignored him.

"Becky, Phuong—we distract whatever the hell is down there. Try and stun it but I have my doubts. Either way, don't worry about killing it unless there's no choice, we just get across. Any questions?"

Becky took a deep breath and clearly wasn't sure about her pack. Mason pulled it off her shoulders. "We can hunt. I'd rather you survive to be cold and miserable."

She nodded and grit her teeth, and with a nod to Phuong Mason leapt into the water.

[Apex Predator - Elemental activated.]

[Duality of Strength activated]

Mason exhaled as his torso sunk into the freezing water. It wasn't nearly as bad as it should have been, and he knew his powers and vitality were doing wonders. He'd hunted in winter in a few Northern States with a kind of unofficial 'end of the world' club once or twice, so he wasn't completely ignorant of cold. But none of that made it pleasant. And it would be far worse for the others.

He kept his eyes open and dipped beneath, searching for whatever had frightened Streak. He couldn't see it, so he grabbed Becky and started helping her forward.

Streak and Seamus were moving quick, and Phuong swam like a fish. They didn't need much time. Just a good minute or so without attention and everything would be just fine...

Bubbles floated as something large swam below. The river was deep, though it was hard to tell precisely how deep. Mason guessed maybe twenty or thirty feet of sediment-swirled water, too murky and dark to see the bottom. His heart pounded as he pushed Becky along and summoned his longer Claw.

He didn't much like deep water. But he liked someone he loved being in it and hunted by a giant fantasy fish a lot less. He stuck close, ready just to get himself in between and stab whatever approached. In that moment he sure bloody wished he had a spear, or a javelin.

"Bloody here! Oh feck me!"

Seamus literally tried shooting a fire missile into a river.

The flames splashed and hissed, accomplishing nothing except spooking Streak, who yipped and took off with the fastest dog paddle known to man.

The Irishman lost his grip and called out as he floundered.

"Becky, shield him, now."

Rebecca's eyes stilled as she raised a hand. Then Seamus yelped, and disappeared beneath the surface.

* * *

Mason was getting tired of saving this man.

He pushed Rebecca on and activated Aspect of the Cheetah, not sure if would actually help him swim. It did. He slipped through the water with incredible speed, not entirely sure where to go. He tried to see or hear or feel any change, any indication of his target, his senses struggling in the water.

He knew he was close to where Seamus had gone down, but he didn't detect a God damn thing.

Then he cursed himself for a fool, clutched his nymph charm, and activated Speak with Nature.

[I'll feed you. But not that. Very bad food. Very sick. Come to me. I'll feed you.]

Nothing at first. Mason kept swimming down, soon finding the bottom of the river and deciding it was maybe twenty-five feet. He turned with open eyes and practically screamed in surprise as the ugliest bloody fish he'd ever seen stared at him with Seamus clutched in its...tentacles?

The Irishman looked like an extra from a horror movie. His eyes were wide in sheer terror, mouth gaping as octopus-like tentacles drifted all around him.

[I'll feed you,] Mason said again. [More than you can eat. Little, juicy green meat balls.]

The 'fish' had another little tentacle over its head with a kind of spherical, fleshy...

The damn thing actually lit up, just like a lightbulb. Mason felt the creature's impatient agreement as the tentacles ejected Seamus forward. Mason seized the man and swam up, getting him close to the bank before Phuong found them and grabbed him.

"I made a deal with the fish," Mason said, then shrugged, no idea how to soften how insane that sounded out loud. "Just get across. Tell Seamus to get a fire going, you all need to..."

"I understand," Phuong interrupted. "I'll get them safe, and warm."

As usual Mason thanked God for Phuong, then turned and started swimming back. He felt the fish below him, watching, waiting, not far from breaking their bargain out of hunger. But he also began to realize he felt no danger personally anymore. It was as if the thing considered him off limits somehow. Or else more useful alive.

He told it again he was going to feed it, just needed a moment to hunt. Then he slunk up the bank of the river, camouflaging himself with his Sleeves before sniffing the air. He could still smell the trolls, and now something else. Leather and iron. Cured wood and cooked meat. More civilized little green monsters.

Mason dropped his traps as far out as possible, strung his bow, and waited.

A troll came first. It had several marks and brands just like the other, but this one had clipped ears like a domesticated farm animal, and a rope around its neck. Two goblins came out just behind it holding the rope and some kind of prods in their other hands.

They soon saw the others across the river and scowled.

“They die in the Evercold now, yes?” whispered one. “No need for us. We tell bosses they…”

“Not our orders,” hissed the other, then glanced back at the trees. “Trolls good swimmers. Not problem. We let off leash. Use whistles.” It started rummaging through its pockets, soon removing what looked like a big clump of meat or fish, and a literal whistle.

Mason resisted the urge to put an arrow in its eye, and kept watching. The troll obviously understood the situation. It practically bounced back and forth as it stared at the food, the sight of this giant murderous creature obeying the goblins almost comical. But then Mason supposed an alien might think the same with tigers and bears and men.

“Good big boy,” the goblin fed the creature by hand as it untied the leash and blew its whistle gently. The troll ate and practically panted like a dog. “Go. Kill.” The goblin pointed across the river. “Bring back meat to whistle. Go!”

It blew the whistle again, this time twice quickly, and the troll blinked and looked like it had been slapped. Then it raced towards the river.

Mason grit his teeth. He heard more of the creatures moving through the trees.

Goblins, certainly, but also likely more trolls. He hadn’t tried to cast a lightning spell since he’d switched classes, but decided it was likely time. And there had to be a way to exploit the untamed nature of these trolls, and maybe that whistle.

But whatever he did, he knew he had to think fast…