Chapter 680: Opening Gambit
Mason stood in the fey in complete confusion. Creatures were running all over the place. The trees were on fire.
He heard shouting and screaming, the sounds of battle nearby. Ordinarily he’d try to figure out what the fuck, but he didn’t have time for this.
With his Wayfinder, One with Nature, and Essence of the Stag, he didn’t need to hear or even see much. He knew the godpaths by muscle and magic memory, and raced through the terrain trying to at least catch a few glimpses of what the hell was going on.
He eventually stopped when he found fire elementals battling with living trees. Then beings of dark stone as they attacked a bunch of growling beasts. Apparently ‘Spring and Summer’ were under assault. Mason had no idea how or why. Weren’t the ‘doom’ events strictly to do with the prime?
“Young wolf. Going somewhere important?”
The deep voice of Mason’s patron god boomed as something far too huge to move so fast came rushing through the trees. The ‘horned lord’ himself stepped into the path ahead as the trees seemed to part around him. And he was snarling. Or maybe smiling.
“Cerebus.”
As usual, Mason fought some confusing combination of instincts in the god’s presence. To run screaming always felt like the rational choice. It took some effort to just stand there and talk to a pacing predator.
“They’ve bent the rules,” Cerebus said, like he’d just remembered some amusing anecdote. He was holding a spear in one hand, and half a corpse in the other. “There is no law forbidding an attack on the other planes,” he continued. “But even I can hardly believe they’ve done it. I’m reminded of a simpler time.”
“I’m in a hurry,” Mason said, resisting the urge to just run. “I have a game to win for us.”
“Hmm? Oh yes. Off you go. Don’t worry about this…distraction. I’ll let it go on awhile. Good for a forest to burn.” Cerebus laughed loudly, but the amusement vanished just as quick. “Life sometimes needs a good cleanse.”
The way Cerebus said ‘cleanse’ would have sent a chill down Adolph Hitler’s spine. But Mason didn’t have time for the horned god’s shit. He turned and ran, no idea what any of this meant, and no attention to worry about it.
He raced across the fey, across the ‘ocean’ and into the lands of the Unseelie, and of ‘Fall and Winter’, which seemed entirely undisturbed. He was a step away from the mountain with his goblin allies, pretty close to the holy city, when the snow at his feet exploded.
The much more visually appealing, mist-shrouded silhouette of Queen Mav formed before his eyes.
Enter nature god number two.
“Horned prince.” Her voice was not as appealing as her silhouette. “You haven’t crossed my realm in months.” The voice got colder, if that was possible. “And now that you’re here, my realm is under attack at the same time. Such a coincidence.”
He just about stepped past her and vanished, but he had the feeling she could make that…difficult. ‘Fear’ wasn’t the right word. But he knew very well she could ruin his week. And it was not a good week to be ruined.
“I’m just trying to protect the prime,” he said with as much patience in his tone as he could. “They’re probably attacking just to get in my way, or make planar travel impossible. No offense, but I’m in a rush. If you’re not here to help…”
Mav’s glowing blue eyes stared from behind her mist.
“You’ve made a divine bastard, champion. So much like your sire already. I know what the sons of Cerebus are like, and I expected no different. But my daughter…she likes you. She’s still young enough to hope for something different. You will swear to visit her, and the child, when it comes, at least once a season. Swear it now or I will delay you. And without you, the prime will fall.”
Mason blinked as he watched the goddess’ angry eyes. Apparently the vampire queen could get pregnant. Because of course she could. But visiting her and whatever child they made was no hardship for him. And quite the opposite. He shook his head and put away his claws, taking a step forward.
“I swear it. I like Lilith too, Mav. I didn’t know she could…” He shrugged. “I promise to visit. As often as I can. But if the prime is destroyed, I won’t be around for anyone.”
The goddess stared like she might find the truth in his eyes. The glow of the ‘other’ nature magic started to fade as Mav’s mist receded. He felt the danger pass, like a winter storm moving away. Then he felt her magic infusing him, the ‘oath’ he’d spoken more than just simple words, but some kind of fey pact.
“Then go,” she whispered like the wind, and sounded tired. “Hold off death a little longer, son of spring. But you and I both know it will come. It always does, in the end. Life is so arrogant.”
“We prefer optimistic.”
Mav faded, unblocking the last few steps towards Mason’s target. He rushed through her mist, shivering with pleasure at the cool feel. Whatever she said, he sensed a soft core to the goddess of winter that was maybe once like the thing in her daughter. A hope buried deep beneath that ice. He smiled as he emerged from the cool mist and saw the text, feeling a strange sense of hope.
[Temporary Divine Title. Winter’s Grace. Something or someone has deeply upset Queen Mav to your benefit. Strike while the iron is cold. All mana costs for spells and powers greatly reduced for twenty four hours.]
Oh yes. He could make use of that. Life was going to last at least another day.
Mason touched the hill that represented the goblin mountain, warping back into the prime. He’d Shifted before he’d even touched the rocky side, wings spreading as he took to the sky. He had months of practice in the air now.
He dropped his weight, flapping with impossible strength and tucking his wings, bending physics as he launched like a missile towards the holy city.
**
Phuong stepped back as two shadows rose like mountains before him. He stared with a fist clenched on his Spirit Blade, the other dripping sweat and demonic blood. He stared and experienced something rare, unwelcome, but not unfamiliar: failure.
“Phuong! We gotta fall back! We did what we could, but we need more players!”
Brave Becky. His most loyal soldier. She was right, obviously, but it was too late for that. Phuong felt the demon’s magic moving all around them like the walls of an arena. Just as he’d heard the creature’s voice in his mind. It was a chatty one.
I knew this day would be glorious. The Infernal’s voice was like a beetle had smoked a few packs of cigarettes then learned to talk. But a Soul Keeper? Almost alone? Before I’ve even crushed the Nexus? You’ll pay for reducing my rift’s energy, mortal. Your vulnerable little soul will suffer for a thousand years.
It laughed as it rose from the portal like an infant from its mother, the dark slit of the planar rift squeezing violently as the demon lord emerged. It had a chitinous lower half with a dozen insect-like limbs, its upper half mostly humanoid and carrying two curved swords. It was also at least twice Phuong’s height, and half made of smoke instead of flesh and bone. It came chittering and scrambling forward with immense speed.
Becky was shouting, but Phuong couldn’t hear her anymore. Whatever the circle was that had formed around him and the demon, not even sound was getting through.
The others had their own problems. The second planar lord was released, too—and Phuong understood the deception and plan before he saw the system text. It was a mountainous creature made of stone. Some kind of earth elemental. And it was in the shape of a living battering ram.
[Planar Event: Opening Gambit. Defeat the two planar lords, Crazzix the Shadow, and Morag the Breaker, before they destroy the holy city and conquer the Eastern Nexus. Rewards will be based on individual, team, and overall player performance. Good luck!]
Phuong put the battle from his mind. There was no more war, no more doom, no more anything except the next few minutes. If the others could help him, they would. But he had to assume he was alone. He had to assume he won this duel, or he died.
Yes, the demon whispered. You are alone, Danh Phuong. You have always been alone. And that’s what you deserve, don’t you? You abandoned your brothers and comrades.
That was true. Phuong knew it was true. He had never been a true communist, he had only wanted to protect his country, but had lost sight of how, and fallen to despair.
You abandoned your family. Your wife. You abandoned your son. The demon laughed. There are more bastards you abandoned, too. Shall I show you their pictures? No, no. We’ll have plenty of time for all that. When your soul is mine, burning in the infernum.
Phuong shut out the past and the horror of his enemy. He felt the thing’s power trying to enter his mind and flicked it away with Blade-Soul. Until it destroyed his sword, it couldn’t bring him down with magic. The creature was glad to have him on his own because he was a prize. But he was a prize because he was a dangerous predator of the demon’s kind.
Now it was time to demonstrate why.
He waved a stun and a blast in quick succession, both deflecting off the charging demon’s shield. It was powerful, but it would weaken with enough time and attacks. It couldn’t out-do his soul-infused sword and speed. He would cut apart everything it threw at him, and beat it down one attack at a time. Phuong would outlast it.
He kept light on his feet. Ready to attack, to defend, to roll away and reset the fight. The demon seemed far less circumspect.
It rushed straight in, insect legs clicking on the rocky ground. The curved blades sliced paths of darkness that lingered in the air like heavy smoke. It didn’t fade, and Phuong soon realized he couldn’t stay still and just exchange blows, or those dangerous blades would get visually lost in the patterns.
He deflected and fell back, still testing, cutting with the immense force his Soulblade generated against demons. Even a small swing blasted energy far beyond his weapon. The affinity-infused energy struck off the demon lord’s innate shield, sizzling with diametrically opposed force.
For a moment their eyes met through the weaving blades.
Phuong didn’t fear the demon’s bluster or mind powers. Nor its attempt to intimidate or distract him. But in the demon lord’s eyes he saw through the mask to the thing beneath—he saw cold, hard calculation. A killer like him, watching, waiting, assessing.
Phuong twisted and attacked with more speed, blade deflected, the counter almost instant. He shifted and recovered as he fell away from the patterns of darkness being painted in the air. The demon gave him just a moment, but enough time to weave his own.
Another blast/stun, the patterns practiced a thousand times. Both absorbed into that shield. The demon lord rushed on, making no sign of annoyance or having been harmed. But that shield wouldn’t last forever.
Their weapons hummed and clanged. More psionic forced tested the edges of Phuong’s protection even as the demon tried to rip him apart. It was loosing more and more energy. And the ‘patterns’ it was leaving in the air still weren’t going away.
As Phuong stepped back enough to look, he realized they weren’t random. The thing was literally carving runes in the air. They were pulsing with demonic power, and as he met his enemy’s eyes again he realized: it wasn’t pressing the attack. It was delaying. It was distracting him.
The demon’s expression seemed to sour as he realized. Neither of them smiled or said a word—just a silent exchange between deadly foes.
Phuong didn’t know what his enemy was doing, but he knew he didn’t want it to happen. It was a risk, but he had to change tactics. Had to press the creature so it couldn’t think, or else destroy it before it finished whatever it was doing.
He activated Adrenaline, and attacked at full speed.