Chapter 414: Just like old times

And so begins book 10! Thanks so much for reading and coming along for this weird (at least for me) chapter-by-chapter adventure. As ever, the comments/feedback really helps with my own interest in the story. And there's plenty to go. Two updates:

1. I am taking my first vacation in two years. There will be no chapters from The First Great Game posted next week (Dec 30 to Jan 3). I will, however, be posting 5 chapters from an entirely different unpublished story on my Patreon for free, for anyone, so you can go there and check it out without paying, if you're so inclined. (Which story will depend on the results of a patron poll, but it'll either be more harem, or a story from my 'main' writer name that's more traditional fantasy.)

2. I have at long last started working with audiobook narrators for this series, and the story will be turned into ebooks/audiobooks probably by February 2025. But usual chapter programming will continue, so if you're keeping up to date with the story this won't matter to you at all. Unless you want the ebooks/audiobooks, of course!

That's it. Thanks again, and merry Christmas / happy holidays / keep the change, you filthy animals.

Shortly after Mason beat the emperor's two man team alone, the system started a new round of endless combat.

Match after match with no more than fifteen minute breaks, a mixture of individual and team combats that left every player an exhausted, mentally numb mess. Except Blake, apparently.

"What do you mean you're sleeping now?"

Mason sat across from his brother in his house's private balcony trying to swallow down as much Texas barbecue as he could. Pretty soon he'd be back in Nassau, after all, eating more or less the same three gamey meats.

"I mean, brother, one half of my brain is sleeping, and the other half is sitting here talking to you." Blake sipped his pretentious looking cocktail and reached for a piece of sauce-slathered pork, pulling back after a glance from Mason.

"You were never like this, you know,” he grumbled. “You're like a dog now. You can literally make infinite barbecue."

"Then make your own," Mason said, shoving another piece in his mouth.

Giving each other shit was back to normal for the Nimitz brothers. Because all in all, they were both in a pretty good mood. They'd been slaughtering their way through the largely eastern continent competition, individually beating everyone with something approaching ease, all while managing to avoid each other.

Blake's 3 man team was now almost certainly in the top five with only a few matches left. And so were Mason's players.

They had to 'fight' each other soon, but Nassau and the western players in general were largely destined to take the top spots in the whole tournament, with the more numerous players coming in behind with all their teams just because they actually had them.

"You don't have to give up, you know," Mason said, ripping off another chunk of meat from a smoked turkey bone. "I mean we can fight to some kind of determined point. We're supposed to be putting on a show for your wizard friends."

Mason meant the currently half-hearted ruse that Blake might betray Mason and the west for budding new arcane friendships in the east. Blake shrugged and grinned at his own forming plate of brisket covered nachos.

"You're not a good enough actor to pull it off. And if you want to fight my constructs you only have to visit me in my tower. There's dozens now. Actually, I take it back, it took a long time and I don't want you breaking them all."

Blake's current existence in his ridiculous orc tower was a big source of tension between the brothers, but Mason had largely come to terms with it. He knew Blake was going to do whatever he wanted and to hell with what anyone else thought.

Or what reality was. He'd have to let him play it through to ever change his mind, or watch him somehow pull it off. Whatever it exactly was.

Mason eventually sat back with a deep exhale, looking at the ludicrous number of empty plates stacked beside him. Until he came to the Neutral Zone, he hadn't really eaten until he was 'full' in awhile, or paid attention to how much he was eating. He wasn't really sure how it was physically possible.

"Lust. Gluttony. Wrath. Working on pride," Blake said staring at the stack. "I'm not sure if I should be disgusted or impressed."

"I feel a little like throwing up," Mason said, taking a few deep breaths. He felt Streak's jealousy through their bond, the wolf now in his claimed corner of the balcony already stuffed beyond reason. Mason looked at him and shook his head. "You literally can't eat more. And when we get back home you better not turn up your nose at anything. This is temporary."

Streak's usual complete disregard for the notion of 'time' came back through the link as he lay his head down and closed his eyes. He was in good company. Pretty much every player in the whole damn promenade except Mason and Blake were passed out on lounges or mats, or else back in their hotel rooms.

‘Gluttony’ helped when you were sleep deprived. But it could only do so much. Even the civilians had been swamped in the last twenty-four hours, with new system point 'discounts' and inventory, with their own private 'market' temporarily growing and expanding the already bustling trade taking place between every human civilian in the world.

Or so they'd been told.

Haley and a few of the other civilians had apparently been doing the math and weren't so convinced. They'd been talking to players from the east about their tutorials, about the initial stages of the game, getting on pretty friendly terms with a lot of them. Especially since Mason had beaten the emperor in combat, and he'd 'left' the tournament.

No one knew quite knew how or why, but after Mason beat him and his partner in the two man arena, ‘Emperor’ Jeong had simply…disappeared from the Neutral Zone.

After that, a lot of his people had gotten more open and friendly. Whatever happened next in this insane game was anyone’s guess, but it was clear lots of civilians had decided it was wise to start keeping their options open.

"I'm telling you, there has to be more people," Haley had told him on the fifth night. "The easterners had way less casualties than us. And when you start breaking down the population of earth and putting any kind of average per cent survival rate, it doesn't make sense. There should be more people."

Mason had mostly just shrugged, not interested in trying to figure out what the hell their robotic God was doing or why. For all he knew it had wiped out a big chunk of humanity because it didn't like the cut of their jib. Or because it was Tuesday. You couldn't predict or understand this thing. It wasn't human, and probably not remotely like them.

"You saw the beacon lights," he said, meaning the Communication Beacon that had lit up and showed them all the settlements on their continents. "There's us, and a few stragglers, and them. That's it. That's all there is."

"Unless there's more continents," Haley said. "Maybe there's more 'worlds', more 'games'. Maybe it's just hiding the others from us."

Mason shrugged because yes those things were all possible. Maybe even likely. But he didn't see what the hell difference it currently made. They had enough to deal with.

"One day feel free to say 'I told you so'. But for now I deal with what's in front of me."

Haley had eventually accepted this with a smile, unwrapping her robe to reveal the very appealing body beneath and all his. Mason's mind started drifting back to the long, enjoyable evening before Blake snapped his fingers in front of his face.

"Neutral Zone to Mason. Were you even listening, or is this a meat coma?"

Mason blinked, banishing several images of his women with a sigh.

"What vital insight did I miss?"

"I was trying to invite you to my wedding."

Mason found his mind temporarily blank. He eventually blinked and wiped his hands absently on some paper towel, trying to process literally what the actual shit. Blake wasn't the marrying kind. Nevermind now...in his...situation.

"Are you telling me you're marrying an orc?"

"Her name is Ilya. But yes. An orc tower lord. Er lady. Which will make me a tower lord. And it's about time I start a 'House', which I can't exactly do without supporters. And since most of the humans are taken, well, it just makes sense really. You don't have to be a best man or anything. Orc marriages are pretty simple affairs. But we'll need a little pageantry for the whole 'first orc and human' thing."

Again Mason just stared as his brother semi-rambled. Once his brain had caught up and started thinking like Blake, he eventually frowned.

"You're worried they might try and kill you. You want a show of force."

Blake blinked.

"Leadership has truly changed you, brother. The cynicism is almost unbelievable. Here I am, your only living relative, inviting you to the first inter-species marriage, which might possibly cement a lasting alliance between..."

Blake trailed off as Mason stared, then sighed.

"Would it really be that much trouble? I was thinking...you could bring a few players. And Haley, of course. Or however many women you're sleeping with now."

"I wouldn't bring a civilian within ten fucking miles of those towers," Mason said.

Their first experience with orcs had been nearly getting killed by them. And the last time Mason was at the towers he had slaughtered a dozen orcs, including a tower lord, then told Blake he would only ever be back to kill the rest.

So asking him to an orc wedding so soon took the kind of balls only Blake possessed. The prick smiled with his perfect, white teeth.

"Just some players, then, hmm? Maybe...Phuong? Some of the young men? There'll be plenty of curious orc women. And maybe even some goblins. Though…I haven't really seen many. I think maybe the wizards have been hiding them. They aren't the most trusting creatures, it has to be said, though I don't suppose..."

"I have a lot of shit to do," Mason said, then sighed, fighting against himself but knowing he'd lose. "We can teleport now. With our Scout Enclave. So technically we can just warp over once a week with a group. I'm not saying I agree. And what we really need to do is explore the rest of the continent, which is exactly what I'll be doing. But, if you gave me a date. With a lot of time in advance. I guess I could...probably..."

Blake clapped his hands and shook Mason's arm, which was more like rubbing since Blake couldn't actually move Mason in the slightest.

"My man! Just think of the fun we'll have. It'll be like old times. Even an idiot can get laid at a wedding. We'll introduce you to a nice, thick orc lady with more courage than sense. Pretty soon you'll see they're not all bad. We'll make some friends! Don't act like you don't need some with that emperor seething across the pond now."

Mason took a breath and tried to shut off his brain.

"I ate too much meat for this. I forgot how exhausting you are."

Blake nodded in total agreement as he smiled, and Mason shook his head. First the man gained mind powers to talk to him from pretty much anywhere, including in his dreams. And now he could apparently 'sleep' while he was awake. There was absolutely no escape.

"I should have left you in the forest," he muttered, opening a dessert window before fighting back another urge to vomit.

"I'd have made it somehow," Blake said with a sniff, ordering another drink. "Brothers forever. We made a pact. And I for one intend to keep it."

Mason fought the grin and any sign of affection, knowing he'd never hide it well enough. He supposed an orc marriage would be kind of interesting, and as long as it was just him and a bunch of players he really wouldn't have to worry.

And if the orcs did something crazy, it would give him another excuse to…remind them what their situation was. With that logic, he might even get Carl to come along.

"You see?" Blake said, apparently noticing some sign of pleasure. "You look downright enthusiastic."

This time, Mason didn't bother to fight the smile.