Chapter 517: The Pretender
Every platform across the ‘lava cavern’ had some kind of challenge. But after the demon under the grate, they definitely got easier. It felt more like…shock troops. Filler. Trash. Just something to wear the players down. And it was working.
“Phuong, six o’clock!” Mason pointed with his longer sword-Claw, leaving the other as an actual claw on his shapeshifted hand.
The swordsman spun and swiped two smaller demons right off the platform before turning back to his larger target. The players were all in the center of a large platform, standing in a circle with the ranged on the inside.
They’d had to abandon their strategy of keeping the more vulnerable players on the narrow passages, because these infernals liked to swim through the lava and crawl up wherever.
Most were weak. But they were tenacious, numerous, and could quickly overwhelm any player who couldn’t put them down fast. Especially when they had nowhere to run.
Mason stalked and murdered around his ring of players, going wherever the wave was thickest. Phuong held the east side solo. The other melee held a loose pattern covering the rest, bashing and jabbing anything that approached.
Tommaso tossed the occasional potion, or jabbed something with his new, crafted rapier. Seamus used his ‘non-fire’ on cooldown, but his frustration was clear. Demi mostly just waited, like she wasn’t sure what to do or thinking this wasn’t worth her mana. It probably wasn’t.
Mason knew his melee heavy team could slaughter minion waves pretty much all day. All they had to do was keep themselves protected, and they’d figured that out pretty quick.
When the latest batch finally died down, the last few stragglers leaping back into the lava, he turned and swept the others with his eyes. They looked a bit tired and on edge, but still strong. Still ready.
They’d crossed most of the cavern now, the red mist a single platform away. Mason still couldn’t see through it, but he fully expected another, more difficult challenge. Whether it would be the end, or just another segment of the dungeon, he had no idea.
“I think we can hold here and rest, if anyone needs mana,” Phuong said, unsummoning his sword like it was a damn lightsabre. “The smaller types pose little threat.”
“Agreed.” Mason turned to the casters. “That mist probably means another mini-boss. How much mana do you guys need?”
“I could use a minute.” Becky dropped to a sit and let out a breath. “If y’all can handle things while I sit a spell.”
“I’m ready,” Alex said, his metallic armor gleaming in the red light, some sweat beading on his forehead. He looked uncomfortable, but the man was as impossible to read as ever. Was he spiritually disturbed? Did he have to take a shit? Mason had no idea.
“I’m full,” Demi said, shrugging like she was embarrassed.
“Good.” Mason tried to smile and comfort her, but remembered he had wolf teeth. “No need to waste mana when our melee are handling things. A thing to know in a dungeon like this.”
Everyone else looked fine—a few scrapes and bruises probably not worth any mana. The melee players were kicking ass and taking names. Mason was pleasantly surprised by Annie in particular. She paid attention, did what she was told, and managed not to swing her frightening axe around wildly.
Mason couldn’t decide if she was getting better because of Blake, or because she’d been so ignored and abandoned by him. He made a mental note to figure that out.
For now, he just circled around the platform, glaring, murdering, or winking at demons in about equal frequency.
When they pulled back and tried to gather in numbers on another platform, he pulled his bow and loosed arrows until they scattered. Even with his awkward half-wolf hands, he could still shoot at competent speed.
“OK.” Becky rolled up and put her crafted hammer over one shoulder, her transformed mace-shield over the other. “Let’s get bashin’.”
Mason met her eyes and grinned. With her cowboy hat and tied off shirt, she looked like some post-apocalyptic babe from a bad movie. The currently buried piece of himself that preferred fucking to fighting twitched. And he made another mental note to keep her dressed exactly like that when they got home…
“Alright.” He sighed and stared at the mist. “I’ll go through first. Maybe it’s just a new section of the dungeon.”
“Or maybe it’s a giant snake demon,” Carl said, popping up from nothing and making everyone flinch. When Mason glared, he grinned. “I got bored and tried walking through. Says it has to be at least six. I’m guessing that means boss.”
Phuong looked more annoyed than Mason—like he was ready to chew out a stupid junior officer.
“What?” Carl shrugged. “I’m invisible. And I can teleport.”
“Yeah and I can smell you from a platform away.” Mason rolled his eyes, but wasn’t really concerned. He trusted the man to do what he needed to and escape. But it probably was a bad habit to go slinking off without telling anyone.
He walked forward to the mist, his players up and following in double file. He reached out, thinking it would be like a dungeon entrance, but instead the mist just…vanished.
A whole new section of the cavern opened up, with paths leading left or right. The left was solid rock, a darker series of large passages blissfully free of lava. The right was more of the same thing they’d been experiencing.
Though Mason could see some of the platforms were metallic, like elevator lifts, with a goblin structure built into a wall on the far side.
He was about to go exploring down the tunnels when a goblin popped up from behind a rock and stared with wide eyes.
“Demon killers?” it said, showing a mouth full of broken, yellow teeth. Mason was surprised it had the balls not run in terror from a big group of human champions, nevermind announce itself. “Good titles,” it said. “Work with goblins before, hmm? Human must be smart. I know secret ways. If humans make deal.”
Mason sensed the animosity of his players. Goblins had tried to kill or enslave them all a few weeks earlier. They’d failed, mostly because of Billy the brewer getting away to warn Mason, and a decent amount of luck. But the attempt had left an impression.
Mason felt similar. His experiences in the game, though, were teaching him Blake was annoyingly correct. Orcs, goblins, centaurs—they weren’t much different than men. They had their own cultures and quirks, but individuals like Nighteyes and maybe Cliknik could be worked with. If not exactly ‘trusted’. But the system had some tools for that.
Demons, on the other hand—bent on world destruction and eating the living, set a pretty low bar for what counted as ‘better than the main villain’.
“Tell me what you can do for us,” he said, “and do it quickly.”
This goblin was a paler green than the others Mason had dealt with, its body a bit stronger looking, even more ‘human’. It nodded with great enthusiasm.
“Tunnels around generator.” It pointed at the metal contraption on the far side. “Demons don’t know them. Demons don’t take them. Avoid nasty lava and broken gadgets haunted by spirits. Very useful, yes?”
“Maybe. What do you want?”
“Nothing.” The goblin shrugged. “Not much. Only to be goblin king when demons are dead.”
Oh was that all?
Mason sighed and shook his head, glancing at a very skeptical Carl. Phuong shrugged with a ‘I would definitely say yes and then not do it’ kind of look. But Mason wasn’t much for lying, and the system had a habit of giving out objectives that made you dance like a puppet.
“Making you king involves what. Killing the old one?”
“No, no.” The goblin shrugged like it was no big deal. “Well, yes. But humans will do this anyway. King of mountain brought this…evil.” Here the goblin spit. “He welcomed demons with foolishness. Kill him, and support Ikit.” The goblin thumped its chest proudly. “Other goblins will obey.”
Mason decided installing his own goblin king was actually kind of ideal. He hadn’t been sure how this mountain would work—if it would give him some resource location or add to his house. He suspected it still could, but having a friendly goblin tribe might be better.
If he took it himself, he imagined the system would clear the goblins out and cover the damn thing in his flags or who knew what. Jeong and his people would know before long.
But if ‘Ikit’ and his people stayed in charge, letting Mason and his people move freely through the portal…
“Agreed,” he said. “But as king, you’ll let me and my people move freely through the teleporter beacon. You’ll be an ally of the House of Mason. And I want information about this mountain. Lie to me about anything, and the deal is off.”
Ikit looked back and forth as if he was considering, his clawed hands tapping on the rock he’d been hiding behind.
“You are powerful, yes? Ikit can tell. Good. Very good. Goblins will understand. Goblins will fear House of Mason, and so fear Ikit. Yes. Agreed. What does the human wish to know?”
“Everything.”