Chapter 677: The Assault

Day two. The first real day, probably.

Mason stood in the heart of the great forest, eyes half-closed. One with Nature stretched across half the western continent like a spiderweb, thrumming back to him with a growing horde of prey.

Also the trees were complaining again. Like a lot. They sounded somewhere between kids and old men. Possibly both. Arguing at the same time.

South. Near the mountains by the river fork. Hurry!

On me on me on me!

East. At the edge of the forest. Most important by far.

North. Near the great tree. Come now. Come faster!

Heeeelp.

Mason warped. He killed.

Portals kept flickering open—tiny, annoying ones mostly. Fire imps here, a pack of frost elementals there, some squid-looking assholes trying to slime a river. Nothing he couldn’t handle in a few minutes. But they were almost perfectly placed at the edges of major landmarks, usually out of the great forest. Just far enough apart to keep him fey hopping.

“Motherfucker,” he growled as he marked the next closed portal on his Wayfinder. He was slowly starting to feel the day’s pattern. “You’re trying to keep me busy.”

The system didn’t answer. But he could practically hear roboGod’s subsystem giggling somewhere in the void. About ten seconds later he got Kiaan’s message.

Patron: East Continent not yet hard pressed. Believe if all settlements were targets attacks would have proceeded mostly at night, and in vast number. Personal intuition only. Prediction: Major attack on the holy city. Imminently. Suggest all possible defense.

It confirmed his own feeling, and he accepted it as likely. The only question was what exactly to do about it. But the answer was probably: Pull all stops. Right now. Better safe than sorry. He responded to Kiaan, seeing no reason to explain himself.

Understood.

But he didn’t waste time. A few jumps to the nearest mountain, then a mental flick of mana, and he Feywalked straight into Eve’s grove. The tree spirit rose from her pool, already glowing, beautiful and…distractingly naked.

“Champion. What a lovely surp—”

“I need your help,” he said, cutting her off. “I need the nymphs, all of them. The gnoll tribes. Everything. Protect all the great trees so I can move away without worrying. Can you handle that?”

Eve’s eyes flashed green fire, like she didn’t enjoy being interrupted or commanded. At least not in this context. But she didn’t ask questions. Power rippled through her, and her grove seemed to writhe with life, like it had detected some new predator or prey.

“Gaia will defend what’s hers, druid. That I promise you.”

It was good enough. He didn’t need details. He gave her a quick, apologetic grin, then stepped back into the fey. He already owed Eve a hell of a lot, and the bill was growing. But he could spend the next century or so paying.

All that mattered was winning. The system was taking a risk coming on so strong so early. He knew it had rules it could bend but not break. The ‘gods of destruction’ had to bid, they had resources like real generals. What they sent now would cost them. Maybe if he could crush this attack he could almost guarantee their victory.

But it was a big continent and a big world, and he needed more help.

Night Eyes was next. Mason was a few steps towards the Green Sea before he stopped and considered. There was a zero percent chance the cunning shaman wouldn’t feel the storm coming and act. And the reality was, Mason trusted the creature more than most humans.

So he turned and sprinted away, Stag soon at his side, silent, ready. Excited? Then he was back in the forest, reaching out again. The trees were…yep, still whining.

He was about to narrow it down and pick a portal when he saw the flashing messages in his profile. It wasn’t just Kiaan’s ‘intuition’ this time. Yellow alerts. Orange alerts. A message from Chinua.

Eastern Nexus under official attack. Recalling all teams with beacons. Closer teams coming on foot. No further information yet.

Mason took a breath, digging claws into one palm as he tried to keep steady. Three new portals lit up in his mind like red dots on a map as the trees narrowed it down. He had to keep calm. The eastern city was well defended and had plenty of players. They didn’t need him. Not yet. Not unless things got out of control.

But the west needed him. Now. And if he abandoned it the destroyers would likely get a bunch of footholds. He had to defend everything with the minimum necessary force. Not just win, but win utterly, and change the odds in the final days.

He smiled, relaxing as the decision was made, the only thing left now a day of constant violence and death. In other words, a very good day.

He feystepped to the closest portal and took in the barely formed planar rift. Looked like abyssals—the ‘stupid’ demons that would just mindlessly rush to their objectives. Most were still weak. He pulled up his powers.

“Time to go to work, boys.”

He summoned Breaker and Shawk. The massive bear and noble eagle roared/screeched into reality in a flash of green light, immediately understanding what he wanted. The bear lumbered down towards the portal, already foaming hungrily at the mouth, annoyed at being disturbed. Shawk took to the skies and swooped for his first targets.

“Don’t die,” Mason called, already opening his own portal. “I’ll need you later.”

The next attack was relatively close to Nassau. Infernals this time. Forming up already into little units like a proper army. Mason called to Streak and his pack. The big wolf howled with pure joy, the sound carrying from miles away. Last he summoned Stag. The animal loved little more than killing demons, and it misted into the Prime with a look that said finally before vanishing into the trees.

“Just keep them busy,” he said quietly, knowing the animal would understand. “The cavalry is coming.”

Then he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, ignoring the nearby demons as already dead as he reached out for other threats. The portals weren’t all created equal. And he’d saved himself the biggest he could find.

He arrived at the most dangerous just as something big started pushing through. This one felt different—thicker, older, like the system had finally stopped fucking around. Mason extended both sets of blades and claws, black and green and razor sharp. He planted himself right at the glowing edge.

The creature that stepped out was some kind of eight-foot obsidian knight. Its armor was like dark stone. Its red eyes burned like glowing coals. It lifted a sword that ate the light with dark shadow.

Mason smiled as it saw him and froze mid-step, staring at the horned, clawed, tattooed welcome waiting six inches from its face.

“Hi.”

***

Chinua stood near the southern wall of the holy city, shield raised, spear humming in his other hand. A whole lot of bullshit dinged and splattered on his defences.

He was a man accustomed to adapting plans. To things falling apart at first contact with the enemy. But even for him, this was a bit ridiculous. Everything around him was pure chaos.

Six-legged demons screeched and flew past like giant cockroaches. Floating crystal golems hummed with mana, and he had the feeling he’d better stop them soon. Some kind of screaming harpy swarm were whipping magic darts or something at him with their wings.

Portal after portal just kept vomiting nightmares onto the fields outside the walls.

“Julio, left flank!” he finally barked.

The ‘Tidebreaker’ threw out his ridiculous support power. A rippling wall of force engulfed the players, and now froze the edges of the magic tunnel with jagged, outward-facing spears.

Adela raced straight through, chakrams singing as they carved some harpies then smashed a few golems into glittering dust with a single throw. Mathias’s arrows found eyes and joints with machine-like precision. Annie jogged down the tunnel without hurry, axe swirling back and forth with her red braid, splitting anything that tried to push in.

And then there was Blake.

The man didn’t even look like he was in a battle. Smiling and calm, he moved about as if just out for a morning stroll, taking in the scenery, his thin arms behind his back. Though of course he wasn’t walking at all. He floated twenty feet above them on a…plastic disc.

Anything that touched him just fizzled away and bounced off a shield, like the loss of mana didn’t bother him. Chinua and the others followed him around the battlefield from below, cutting down anything that got too close as he did his work.

And by all that was holy, how he did his work.

Once they’d reached about fifty feet, the portals fizzled and popped in seconds. The emerging creatures came apart mid-summon. The suction-like effect of the severed connection yanked away the rest.

Chinua disengaged his static defence and moved, his team arranging around him as he followed Mason’s brother further around the walls. Despite the man’s incredible ability to close the portals, they weren’t moving fast enough, not getting to them fast enough. More were opening all the time. Soon enough they’d be overwhelmed.

Chinua watched as the newest portal collapsed in under ten seconds. He caught a little glimpse from Blake above, like the young man had made some kind of mistake and was checking to see if anyone noticed. Could he do it even faster than he was? Was he trying to hide his own power?

Chinua had many concerns about that young man, though it was difficult to explain. And it was too late for them. Right now, they needed every ounce of their attention stopping this invasion. Blake was helping them, that was all that mattered.

His team pressed forward, slowly closing the distance to the next breach. The walls behind them were alive with fire—player spells, civilian ballista, Blake’s bizarre, city constructs making a mess around the gates. The city was holding easily so far.

But it was obvious to see: the field teams were slowly getting surrounded.

“General!” a guard shouted from the wall. “Scouts report more portals opening on the north side!”

Chinua didn’t flinch or respond. There was nothing he could do about that. He had to rely on Phuong and the other player leaders to adjust. It was all he could do to keep momentum here.

A massive, six-armed demon lord stepped out of the largest portal yet, shrieking as she raised weapons made of darkness. The thing’s mad eyes locked on Blake, and it pointed one blade, then charged like it had a personal grudge.

Blake saw it coming. And laughed, just laughed, like it was all some tremendous joke. He made a lazy gesture, and a wave of incredibly powerful arcane magic flew through the air, unrecognizable to Chinua’s runic sight.

The demon stopped and reached for its throat. It looked like its necklace had started to shrink and choke it. Its weapons all popped and vanished, until one seemed to be trying to stab it, two of the demon’s arms battling the thing in confusion.

Ice crawled up Chinua’s spine.

He trusted Blake’s power because he had no other choice. The man was clearly the second strongest player alive—stronger even than he let on, and had been instrumental in the Nexus especially. But that deep soldier’s instinct that had kept Chinua alive through the many perilous years on earth, and then through Jeong’s madness, screamed that Blake was dangerous in ways no demon ever could be.

The city needed him. Humanity needed him. And Chinua had no evidence to distrust him. In the end, he also trusted Mason to keep him under control. So he took a deep breath, adjusted his grip on his shield, and charged forward with his team.

“Next portal,” he ordered, voice steady. “We’re ready when you are,” he shouted up for the young man to hear.

Blake caught his eye from above and gave a cheerful little wave, like they were old friends having fun. Some kind of spinning, floating ball appeared in the air and spun off towards what was left of the harpies—another impressive power used while it looked like Blake himself was paying no attention whatsoever.

Chinua fought on. He didn’t wave back.