Chapter 580: It’s over
The six huge, abyssal trolls tried to rip Mason apart limb from limb. He didn’t run.
Instead he split apart the first troll’s jaw with his bare hands, pulling off the lower half and tossing it away as it squeezed his chest. By the time the second grabbed his head and tried wrenching his neck, Duality of Strength started to work.
He kept his body stiff and unmoving, then twisted and turned, watching his Marilith arms shank his grapplers like they were in a prison brawl. It took some work but he got the hands off his head, flipping backwards from the thing’s arms and sweeping the troll’s legs before smashing face-first into a third.
Oh, he probably could have ignored them—just run over and killed the ‘caster’ demons, who were even now bringing in more enemies from their portal. They couldn’t stop him, after all. But where was the fun in that?
“Come on, big boy,” he growled, dropping his weight with his boots as the new troll tried to lift him. “Come on, you pussy. Pull!”
The thing roared with effort and fury, yanking upwards like a body builder. Mason got bored and shattered its knee. He grabbed it and spun it to the ground, then ran past to gouge his claws into the gut of another.
He and the maybe-also-regenerating demons danced and grappled, swirling in a beautiful ring of violence. Mason winced as a fist slammed into his jaw. As an oily claw raked down his cheek, his back, his hamstring.
When he bought himself a free moment, he picked up a rock, infused it with an Explosive Trap, and tossed it at one of the wizards.
The creature broke its concentration enough to look down. Then burst apart in a spray of ichor and goo.
Mason watched and laughed. A troll smashed him in the face, and he staggered back and ripped off most of the flesh on its arm, grappling the others as his powers ticked, and ticked.
Exploiting Strike was getting more obscene by the moment. He activated it for the fourth time on one target and cut the troll in half, tossing its upper body at another wizard so hard he smeared the thing across the rocks.
“Two down,” he yelled happily, “four to go!”
He’d been right about the regeneration—the abyssal trolls were pulling themselves back together, even the guy he’d ripped in half crawling towards his lower legs (which had turned into a kind of black puddle).
With a sigh, he decided to focus on the wizards. The trolls did their best to get in his way, and the steady stream of other abyssals coming out of the portal joined in. They started whipping spikes and acid at him. They roared and charged. They jumped and tried to gouge out his eyes.
But it all just wasn’t enough to get his heart pumping. He needed something bigger, something scarier. Not the watered down, ‘prime approved’ demonlets agreed on for planar invasion.
So he thrashed and clawed and shook them off. With another Aspect of the Cheetah, and a quick loop around the portal, he hacked the defenceless wizards down one by one. As the last dropped, the demonic energy between them crackled and started to disrupt.
As with the original invasions, the portal ground started to rise and suck up like a giant vacuum. The demons attacking him shrieked in rage or horror as a wind he couldn’t feel started sweeping them away.
“Bye, boys. See you next time,” he called with a wave.
[Hidden Event complete: Abyssal attack. Experience awarded.]
He grinned at the text, then felt Breaker getting even angrier somewhere behind him, roaring as his demonic opponents seemed to all run away. But the anger quickly faded to sleepiness, and the creature dropped its magic and yawned.
“Go on home, buddy. Good work.”
Mason unsummoned him, then sighed as he watched the abyssal trolls get pulled up. He could have fought those things all day if he’d just left the portal alone. Maybe they’d have gotten stronger, or something.
But there were civilians to save. Girls to calm down. Emperors to kill.
He sobered when he remembered there were also people to bury. They’d lost several people, including Jason. He’d been one of their weaker players, someone Mason didn’t get to know well, and not exactly Mr. Personality. But he’d been loyal and one of them. A soldier who did his best to protect people weaker than him.
“All this for a player and a few civilians,” he said as the portal shrunk and started to close. He hoped whatever demonic gods had summoned it could hear him. “You took a risk. And you failed.”
When he was sure it was gone, he walked back to the others and found nothing left of the demons but ichor and bones. The surrounding countryside looked healthier—as if huge stretches of demonic ground had been given up. Demi’s spores were mostly gone. Chinua and his people were slumped in a circle around their civilians, looking pale and exhausted.
They didn’t exactly throw a party when they saw him. If anything, they looked afraid. He tried not to take it personally.
“Well done,” he said, hearing the growl in his voice, and seeing not a single loss. “You can rest now. It’s over.”
Chinua, at least, smiled and nodded. Demi grinned and strolled over to take his hand. All the other players just sat or lay down or drank from water flasks with trembling hands.
The civilians started going to them and thanking them. Some started clapping, which swept the group as people even smiled and cheered.
Mason saw the fresh life in the players as they stood and smiled. As they hugged the people they loved or waved away the praise in embarrassment. He understood.
They had purpose, no matter how difficult. They were honored for their sacrifice by those they fought for. It gave them a power few men ever knew.
“I don’t think any of us can sleep tonight,” Chinua said, coming up beside Mason when things calmed down. He glanced up at the now clear sky, and the bright moon. “A night walk might be pleasant.”
Mason nodded, impressed more by these people all the time. If they kept a decent pace, they could be at the mountain by noon the next day. He said as much, and the rebel leader agreed they could do it.
After several minutes to rest, break down their camp, and wrap a few of their players’ wounds, they were on their feet and ready to move.
Mason took Demi’s hand, summoned a grumpy Streak, and led them into the night.
**
The rebels made even better time than Mason expected. For ten hours they crossed the rocky hills with hardly any rest, until the mountain range ahead of them got larger and larger. By mid-morning they stood on the outskirts of Razor Mountain, its namesake clear as they approached.
Sharp ridges curled around the peak, with needle-like spires cresting the edges leading to the steam-covered peak.
“It’s a volcano?” Chinua said, looking about as alarmed as one might expect.
“Don’t worry.” Mason grinned. “The goblins keep it from erupting.”
He let the man wonder what the hell that meant for another hour of walking or so, then explained they really did have goblin allies inside.
“They’re the civilized kind,” he explained. “And if the volcano was gonna erupt, I’m pretty sure it would have when we fought the demon lord that was haunting it.”
“It won’t,” Demi said beside them, tucking some hair behind an ear when they both stared. “I talked to it. A little. Back when…the whole summon thing. It said it’ll be sleeping for another hundred years or so.”
Chinua looked back and forth between them, probably looking for the joke.
“There you go, she talked to it,” Mason said, fighting the smile. “Do mountains lie? I doubt it. Why would they bother?”
He led them to one of several outer entrances pointed out by his new tribal vassals, hearing scouts scrambling off as they were spotted. He smiled, pleased they were watching. It made him feel a little better—that the attack had been unlikely and a result of the specific competence of the spymaster.
But why would Jeong send one of his most powerful people alone? It seemed crazy. Unless he considered the man a threat and wanted him dead. Mason shook his head, deciding analyzing the specific decisions of tyrants wasn’t worth a lot of brain power. Understanding their base nature was good enough.
“Welcome, mighty King Mason.”
The goblin scouts at the entrance bowed as the players approached. He ignored the side eyes and glances and tried to smile.
“I saw your scouts spot us a mile away. Well done. I’m taking these people to King Blizzik as guests.”
The goblins hissed orders and instructions in the background, and in seconds their leader was waving Mason onwards and promising torches for the ‘dark-blind human goblin friends’.
Mason felt himself relaxing. A little. Even so he rushed inside and felt out with One with Nature, ignoring the panicked goblins. When he was confident there was nothing waiting to ambush the rebels, he went back out and waited until everyone was inside.
Only then did he take a breath and let out a few days worth of vigilant stress. Or at least start to.
“You should probably take a bath,” Demi whispered beside him. “These people are brave, and good at masking it. But the whole ‘wolf’ thing freaks them out.”
“Pretty sure it freaks our people out, too,” he said, looking back out at the rocky ground.
He felt the sudden urge to just run out at full speed and live as a nomad and hunter. With nothing but his own safety, his own desires and will to guide him. But he looked back at Demi and quickly remembered why he didn’t.
“I’d go with you,” she whispered with a smile, as if reading his mind. “But you’d come back.”
He sighed, leaning in to kiss her before he remembered his mouth was full of fangs. Even so, she didn’t hesitate. He stepped back, not sure if he should apologize or what.
“Pretty soon you’ll figure out,” she said, “I don’t care what you look like, or what you do, or where you go. I know who you are.” She grinned. “I can smell it.”
He snorted, and took her hand, leading her into the mountain. The death and violence was over for a little while.
It was a double edged sword that left him calm but empty, at peace but unfulfilled. But as he thought about all the people waiting inside—especially the women who wanted and loved him, waiting for him to touch them and tell them everything was fine…
He breathed in Demi’s scent, feeling his stomach grumble and a tingle that shot down his body in anticipation.
The calm after the storm may have left him hollow. And he still had responsibilities left to his people. But when that was finished, he was going to take his women and shovel meaning at the hole inside himself, by filling all of theirs.
Demi looked at him and bit her lip as he pulled her forward. She looked somewhere between frightened and excited. It turned him on even more.