Chapter 668: Fear and transformation
Mason stood in the heart of Eve’s grove, Spring’s Embrace clinging to his skin, or maybe growing out of it. Sweat and blood leaked down his waist where the Blood Rose Belt had chewed him raw for the sixth time that day. He hardly noticed anymore, no matter how it tried to hurt him. The air hummed and reeked from his raw mana.
Demi stood beside him, one hand on his arm, ready to channel her own power. Eve watched from the edge of her pool, arms crossed beneath her breasts, one foot in the water, eyes glowing with challenge.
“I’m ready. Try again.”
Mason had made considerable progress over the past weeks and months. On top of his tree, stone, fire and solar runes, he’d added water, and wind. He’d gained a dozen new spells to his repertoire, including a heal, several enhancements, and a flat out mass destruction spell called ‘Hurl Comet’. It mixed solar, fire, and stone, and was pretty amazing. If he had the time to channel it, and if he could squeeze out the ridiculous mana.
But there was an answer there, too, on top of using his belt.
He and Demi had discovered their divine title let them cast spells together. He could use some of her mana, some of her overall power, and it sped everything up.
The magic built as Mason mentally slammed down the runes whole and channeled. It was apparently an unusual method, better for speed than power. But then he preferred speed in combat, and never intended or expected to be a ‘full’ caster. And he couldn’t bring himself to ‘draw’ the runes slowly.
Eve glowed with her own defensive magic. The illusion of the humanoid avatar all but shattered as tree roots rose up and formed a literal shield, wrapping in so much natural power it was like staring at a green screen.
She’d convinced him eventually he couldn’t truly hurt her with his form of magic, and that he should do everything in his power to try.
“It would be like trying to drown the sea, Champion,” she’d soothed after a long, frustrating day. “Your magic feeds me even as it causes disruption. Let loose. Stop thinking.”
So he did. Drawing on Demi’s energy as much as possible, he let the power swell between his hands. The green light of the tree mixed with yellow and white as sunlight poured through the interior canopy. As it grew, and grew, as he bled himself again and used nearly twice his entire mana pool—if just for a moment—Mason could have sworn he felt a moment of concern through One With Nature. Then he released.
A jagged shard of rock ripped through the tree wall from somewhere above. Mason blinked in panic as he lost track of what happened, only seeing a huge stone shredding through bark and wood like it was nothing.
The strike sent out a wave of force like a bomb, Mason quickly moving between Demi and the explosion. The noise went off like an artillery shell, ringing in his ears long after the magic ended and the moment stilled.
“Eve?”
He took a small step forward, heart hammering. What had he done?
He thought he heard a cry, and ran forward like a blur to pull the stone off the tree spirit. He’d ripped off a few chunks before he found her standing nearby, staring at the stone with her hands on her wide hips.
“How wonderful!” She turned to him beaming. “There’s really no good rocks around my tree. I send the gnolls for miles to fetch me decent sized chunks from the mountains. And it’s so beautiful! Look there’s some quartz. And pink garnet!”
His shoulders slumped in relief, and also defeat.
“But you did make an awful mess,” Eve muttered. “Nevermind. Would you care for some refreshments? I imagine you’re tired after that.”
He nodded helplessly and went back to Demi to make sure she was OK.
“I should have filled it with rotting, exploding mushroom gas or something,” she said, leaning into his chest and wrapping her arms around him for a hug. He grinned and held her, closing his eyes as his body healed. But it took his ‘spirit’ longer, and he really did need a rest.
After about a week with Eve, the ‘resting’ had become…somewhat changed. She and Demi had eventually made their peace—the tree spirit likely knowing it was the only way to get what she wanted. It was only a matter of time after that.
Her thin dress was dropped to the ground as she swayed towards them with two cups of spring water.
“My poor avatars. I’ve taxed you too much. Just relax. I’ll do all the work.”
Demi had the same ‘surrender’ face he did now, giving in to alpha nymph’s lust with the same feeling of inevitability. Eve seemed just as happy pleasuring a female avatar of the gods as a male. By the time Mason and Demi had lain down in each other’s arms, Eve was on top of them with busy hands and mouth, already slurping and moaning as she got to work.
“You’re improving,” she said between mouthfuls. “You’ve stopped asking permission from the world. Now it simply obeys.”
“Uh huh.”
Mason kissed Demi and helped pull off her clothes, grinning as he felt her desire nearly as urgent as his own. The idea of him being pleasured by the powerful Gaian daughter turned her on as much as anything else, and she loved holding Eve’s hair and being in control.
He closed his eyes and tried to shut off his mana-burnt mind, seeing an endless procession of runes, even with his eyes closed.
Twelve weeks of it now. His timer always ticking down. Winter came and went, the power of nature magic and system buildings growing them enough food through it all.
He went back and forth as he could. To Nassau, to the holy city, to the centaur and the orcs and every external settlement. He spent time with his animals, still unable to bond Violet no matter how much he tried. Even Kitya was confounded, saying it was like the animal had some kind of barrier it wouldn’t discuss.
With no solution, he moved on. He tested his Wildshaping, contorting his body in a hundred different ways as he pushed the limits of his form.
He conferred with his main people, his scout teams, and his dungeon teams, cleaning out the last bits of unexplored grey from the world. He helped assign who handled what dangers as they were found.
None of it was worthy of his personal attention. He’d transcended the basic risks of the world, and didn’t want to strip the rewards from any other player who was trying to catch up. He needed them powerful. Armed and ready. And for that they had to take risks.
There’d been losses. At least a dozen player deaths so far. They lost a whole group in one failed dungeon. Phuong had made his report looking like a man who’d lost his dog.
“We don’t know what happened. The dungeon was a risk for them, but within their abilities.”
“It’s not your fault,” Mason said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We need trained knights, Phuong. Not militia. I made you risk them. It’s on me.”
The older man had smiled sadly.
“Thank you for your efforts, Patron. But they were my soldiers. I know we will lose more.”
Maybe a lot more, Mason thought but didn’t say, thinking of the final event.
He’d moved on, checking in with Carl, with Chinua, even Blake (who seemed very content in his new marriage, tower, and responsibilities). He’d spent the night with his other girls in Nassau—an exhausted night of frantic lovemaking, then back to the tree. Back to the grind.
His players faced their dangers. His civilians moved settlements more frequently and with more comfort. They grew more food and built up their combined knowledge, building weapons and armor and trinkets for the players as fast as humanly possible.
It was working, for the most part. Though Mason had a constant anxious feeling that there was more that should be done, more that should be risked. That he was missing some key detail that would cause the end of mankind. And then he’d take a breath, and get back to work.
So it went. Until three months turned to four. To five. Spring came and went. The women of the post-apocalypse swelled up with pregnant bellies. The men of the post-apocalypse watched the consequences of their porn-like fantasy world.
Mason did what he could for his girls. Which was mostly nothing. He went back to his tree and blasted Eve with (literally) everything he could, and learned more about magic than he’d understood in the entirety of the great game thus far.
Another month and the first births started happening, including Haley’s. Mason got the message, and without needing to say a word, took Demi and warped back to his hall. Haley decided to have it in the Gaian temple, right next to the base of Nassau’s great tree and a little creek.
Mason held her hand feeling useless, despite being filled with druidic magic power. Fortunately, the ‘Queen of Nassau’ had so many attendants she eventually yelled at most to ‘go away!’, leaving just the nurse Aila, immediate family, and Calypsa the nymph. Between the nature magic and the scientific tools of the civilians, there wasn’t much danger to anyone.
A few hours later Mason had a daughter with a ridiculous French name.
“Bonjour, petite Gabrielle.”
Haley leaned against the tree and held their child, exhausted and covered in sweat. Mason had never felt like such an ugly, giant, murderous ogre of a thing until he looked at his own tiny, blonde-haired, blue eyed infant.
It was a strange feeling. A numbness tinged with warmth. There was no lightning bolt of emotion. Just a solemn understanding that here was a person to whom he owed an allegiance. A weak life which required his strength, and now took precedence over his. But there was so much of that feeling on his shoulders, it was hard to know where to fit it in.
Rosa popped next. She swore so much during the delivery even Becky stopped finding it funny. She named it Sofia, after her grandmother, and she too had her mother’s features.
The jokes started when Lexi had a girl (Laura), who had her mother’s greyish eyes and tiny features. ‘As if he’s not outnumbered enough by women!’ ‘You’ll need to start building more bathrooms, chief!’
Yes, very funny. Much laughter.
But they weren’t laughing long. Practically every surviving man in Nassau and the holy city became a new father. Civilian productivity dragged to a crawl, as nearly everyone in the settlements who wasn’t critical was on baby duty in some form or another. Becky’s life became what she’d predicted it would—waiting on the other girls hand and foot, giving Mason constant glares if he was nearby.
Naya and Ayet were uncomfortable at first, but really started to come through. At some point it seemed they’d just decided to embrace new life in any form, and were as enamored with the new babies as anyone. Lodie, too.
“I’ve been thinking.” The goblin princess/engineer had cornered him one night in the bedroom as she started to undress. “I’ve decided we should make human goblin babies now. That is, if big lord Mason wants. But…they will be strong and smart! And best pale green and just amazing.”
She’d been so cute and excited (and sexy) he didn’t fight it. When she experienced Blessing of Gaia properly for the first time she practically exploded and passed out. He’d grinned and covered her with a blanket on the bed, then went back down to the others.
That night he wandered Nassau, amazed at all the differences since its humble beginnings. He could hear the young great tree’s hums on the wind. His Wayfinder and One with Nature were filled with living dots, teeming with life all around him. He’d lost track of all the new buildings, making a brief tour before finally ending at the Menagerie that held some of his animals, and Streak’s growing pack.
He was welcomed by a horde of excited young wolves, smiling as he did his best to pet or scratch them all. But he knew it wasn’t the more familiar creatures that brought him. He walked past them, grinning at a sleeping Breaker, to the sandy dirt patch where Violet sometimes slept. He sensed her there and waited, feeling that ever-present distance between them—like a block she’d put up to prevent their bond.
She emerged and stared with those dark, glossy eyes, big purple body still except for a rippling of spikes.
I know why you’ve come, she warbled.
He was reminded this was no ‘normal’ giant worm. That there was an alien intelligence there he’d never quite grasped.
“There’s a great battle coming,” he said. “I need every scrap of strength I can get.”
I know you are powerful, ranger. That is why I fear to bond with you.
He shook his head in confusion. Violet had sworn to serve him the day he ended the Devourer. He hadn’t know why, exactly, other than it had called the thing ‘kinslayer’, so it was probably about revenge and obligation. They hadn’t been able to communicate that well at the beginning, and he hadn’t tried much since gaining One with Nature.
The worm was still staring at him, and eventually made a sound he knew was like a sigh.
I was meant to be what you call a Devourer. A birthing queen amongst my kind. It is a slavish fate of eating and birthing and little else. You move slowly. You ache with the weight of your own girth. I fled, and my rival destroyed the nest of my kin after she ascended.
He said nothing for awhile, mostly feeling sympathy for the creature. But he understood.
“You’re afraid the bond will transform you. To make you into some kind of Devourer.”
The worm didn’t respond, but the answer was obvious. Mason looked away, thinking maybe he and the creature weren’t so different after all. Maybe no living thing was.
“Your logic is off, Violet. You think the choice is to stay as you are, or to change. Those aren’t your choices. You become the thing that faced fear, or the thing that didn’t. You understand? You act, or you do nothing. You’ll be transformed either way.”
With that he’d walked off into the night, wondering how many living creatures would have to make the hard choice for the world to survive. He walked with his mind full of chaos, and the image of a synthetic god’s lidless stare.