Chapter 622: Decisions

Blake flinched as a rush of air whipped past him. He stared in surprise until he realized it was Mason vanishing into the light. He took a breath and shook his head.

“So impatient. Wait, who’s defending me?”

He looked back to see Streak and his few constructs fighting desperately to hold off the ever closing ring of undead. They were doing…OK. But it seemed unlikely they’d keep him distraction free.

“Demi, my dear?” He called. “Could you possibly do something to prevent us from dying? I’m a touch busy.”

Mason’s second (third? Blake couldn’t keep up) wife came running. She looked lost in thought, a bit spooked, a bit flustered. But she got close and her eyes flared green.

Waves of natural magic started swirling around them both. Blake felt his eyebrows raise as he sensed the sheer power of the mana. He knew she was immortal, of course, but he’d convinced himself it was just a perk of Gaia’s attention.

The girl hadn’t seemed particularly…interesting, if perfectly pleasant. He was starting to wonder, however, if she was just too complicated to understand so quickly. There weren’t many players who could generate that kind of power.

The ground cracked as plant-life starting ripping through. A thin cloud of gas or something similar was spreading around them, the blooming life exploding into floating seeds and spores.

“I wouldn’t move,” Demi said, her eyes going dull again. “But you have some time.”

“Thank you.” Blake smiled and prepared to return his attention to that lovely, pesky altar. “Oh, Mason didn’t tell you what he was doing in there, did he? He looked…particularly focused.”

Demi shook her head, that disturbed look back in her eye.

“He’s…being affected. In some kind of…private event. There are gods watching. I can sense them.” She shivered like the feeling wasn’t pleasant.

“I see.”

Blake didn’t hide his surprise, or his delight at being surprised. A little thrill of being involved in such grandiose things went through him. But it was wise to consider how one would avoid getting crushed by powerful, moving forces.

It had occurred to him that the death of Jeong marked an important event in the game. They hadn’t been given any new system text about a phase change, nor had anyone involved received any kind of reward (other than Mason’s control of the city). That didn’t seem quite right.

It had also occurred to him that maybe the game was just waiting for the ‘wrap up’ event before it made things official. The ‘revenge’ of the Endless seemed a perfect time.

It seemed clear the battle for player supremacy was over. Did it want some kind of final victory of Mason’s ‘patron’? Or did the system still think a betrayal and the death of Mason was possible? That someone might catch him off guard now?

It seemed…unlikely. Blake couldn’t think of a single player left with that kind of power, with the possible exception of Carl. If he had enough time he could probably kill Mason with that dagger.

But the man was completely loyal. And ‘enough time’ was a very large caveat. The dangerous rogue would have time for maybe one good strike before Mason ripped him into tiny little shreds.

The Easterners, then? They’d thrown everything they had at Mason and lost. He was practically immune to magic at this point, making Erik and his people more like a nuisance. The most dangerous physical players were dead.

So no. It was over. This must have been a…mini climax. The first denouement before the main event. A confrontation between ‘gods’ to make the moment more dramatic. They’d put down the remnants of the losing side, and then the sky would scroll with divine text. Obvious. Boring.

How do I exploit this and benefit?

It was always Blake’s natural first thought. He had no illusions of out-thinking their synthetic overlord, but the game was restrained by human narrative. What would serve him and the rest of mankind the best?

It wasn’t Mason killing the undead champion in blinding light. Alone. On behalf of his patron. That was what the system wanted, and probably why Mason had jumped in. Or had been pushed in.

Even Blake felt his partitioned mind whispering. Telling him now was his chance to put himself as his brother’s equal, to finish with the altar and join the fray. Co-rulers in victory. Co-consuls like the ancient Roman republic.

But it wasn’t convincing him anymore. Was it because his god’s power was too weak without the victories Cerebus had gained? Was it Blake’s mind was too fragmented to properly cajole?

He wasn’t sure, but he knew he needed to help his brother resist and think. They were getting to the end of important events now and needed to outwit the game. To keep their alien master…properly entertained.

But first, their little movie set had to be properly prepared. He needed that light down, and that pesky army out of the way.

He started another Primordial Making, and used his Chains of Friendship won in the arena. He drew on Seul-ki’s power. His max mana was getting lower and he needed his re-charge happening as swiftly as possible. The distance on their arena items was really very good.

She was wearing a new disguise, of course, hiding in the crowd of easterners, skin smeared in some magic oils. Mason might have recognized her on smell alone with that powerful sniffer, and they had to be careful. Blake wasn’t sure how he’d react.

She’d come to him in the city as soon as it was safe, and he’d quickly forgiven her. He’d understood why she did what did. Of course he had. He might have done the same if Mason wasn’t his brother. And she was still a tremendous asset he had no intention of throwing away. Not to mention pregnant with his child. Allegedly.

But he’d also told her it would be some time before she could show herself to the others. She understood. They’d play things safe for awhile. Give Mason some time to cool down.

“Go and find Phuong please, Navi,” he said, his familiar blinking alert. “Tell him the final battle is coming. Mason will need everyone here. Tell him to push.”

Navi zipped off to obey, and with the rest of his mind, Blake went back to teasing apart that magic field. Divine spells were extremely annoying, but he was finding the runes underneath, and soon it would all pull apart and be re-shaped, exactly how he wanted. Just like always.

**

Phuong scanned the line again, nodding at Carl that they were ready to advance. Maybe two thousand undead corpses lay broken and shattered in three waves of destruction. But for the most part they were attacking in their individual teams, and the undead army didn’t seem to know what to do.

The creatures were clearly being controlled by something. They weren’t mindless. Somewhere in that horde were generals or thinking undead that reacted and made decisions. It was this more than anything that gave Phuong pause. They might be waiting for the players to over-extend.

He blinked as a glowing projectile flew at his head, ready to swipe it away with his deflective power. But it slowed and he realized it was Blake’s familiar.

“Hello again, Mr. Phuong!” It beamed. “Master says: The final battle is coming. Mason will need everyone here. Tell Phuong to push.”

He winced. It was exactly what he didn’t want to hear. There were still a tremendous amount of living corpses and giant constructs in that army. He suspected he and the other players could beat them in a straight fight, but there’d be losses.

In fact, he was considering falling back to the wall. Mason was fine on his own, and could very likely just turn around and leap off to safety. But the weaker players couldn’t.

Attack? Now? And risk forcing the major battle with the rest of the undead army? It didn’t make sense. And it wasn’t like Mason to risk his people’s lives.

“Did Mason order this, or Blake?”

The construct stared, then whipped off like it wasn’t listening. Phuong swore under his breath. The idiot had taken Demi, too, so he couldn’t check with her and see how Mason was doing.

It was possible that light was causing him a problem. Divine magic was notoriously difficult to deal with for the other affinities, possibly even his.

Jeong had been given a weapon basically perfect to the kill the young man, after all. It seemed entirely possible this ‘Endless’ had other weapons designed to defeat him.

“What’s wrong? Bad news from the chief?”

Carl blinked back or maybe just appeared from being hidden. Phuong shook his head.

“Blake wants us to push up there. I’m not sure if we should or not. The wise thing is to fall back. Get closer to the walls in case we need them. There’s no reason to fight out here.”

“That we know of,” Carl said, glancing at the light in the distance.

Phuong nodded. It was very possible Mason and Blake knew something they didn’t. It was dark from the growing clouds and getting harder to see, which was part of the reason Phuong wanted to fall back.

“We have to make a decision,” he said. Carl frowned.

“Not we, my friend. You’re the Minister of War. What’s your gut tell you?”

“To fall back,” he said instantly. “I don’t trust this darkness, or Blake. We shouldn’t be out here so far. We fall back.”

“There you go, then.” Carl put a hand on his shoulder. “These people’s lives are in your hands. Mason would want you to do what you felt is right.”

Having the man’s support made Phuong feel much better. He hadn’t really wanted to come out from the city in the first place, but figured they could skirmish their way back in some kind of retreating battle, at least get a sense for the enemy.

They’d done that, now it was time to defend. He called for the others, intending to move in half groups all the way back to the wall.