The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 430: Just a game

Mason raced up the curved wall towards his brother and the platforms. He knew his climbing speed up the hand and footholds would be ridiculous, but for a moment his brain tried to contrast his time on earth against his current ability, and just about shut down in amazement.

He practically flew up the wall, instinctively grabbing the holds and leaping or pulling himself up in big jumps at a time. This was a good thing, because Blake was just flying up. And also apparently using his 'Making' abilities to 'unmake' handholds near the top.

"Whatever's up here isn't going to change things," Mason shouted, trying to keep an eye on whatever the hell his brother was doing. Then he noticed something on the wall was...moving. Like maybe some of the handholds were falling off together, severed by one of Blake's spells, or...wait, why did the falling handholds have fangs?

He slowly comprehended a large, spider-like...thing, the same colors as the wall. It raced straight towards him, several legs clicking along as two more raised with spear-point ends.

Mason climbed on, waiting for the first bladed leg to jab. When the construct caught him and tried, he reached out with increasingly inhuman speed, seizing the black leg just beyond the blade, snapping it off with a violent tug. The other came immediately after, but Mason was bored with it already.

He let the blade strike his hip, turned himself to get a little leverage, then smashed the thing's bulbous body with a front kick. It went sailing off the wall in silence, shattering most of its limbs when it hit the ground.

"There's more where that came from!" Blake called, still making whatever nonsense up on one of the platforms.

Mason felt his jaw clench as he kept climbing. As he saw more handholds vanishing he stopped and started activating Shapeshift.

"You think I need these?" he growled. "You think you can stop me with stupid tricks?"

He shuddered as his body popped and contorted. His fingers and toes curled slightly and grew claws, his limbs lengthening and narrowing, his jaw expanding and growing fangs. It felt disturbingly good as always, like he was loosening some tightened muscle.

He dug his claws into the wall, and smiled. Then he launched upward, using all four limbs to grip and hurl himself up as fast as possible.

He'd done it several times before the wall he leapt to somehow...vanished. It was like a good three feet of the plastic-like surface had just been cut out.

Mason growled in rage, scratching and grabbing for something, anything as he fell. He eventually slowed himself with one claw, dragging it down the wall until he could jam his other deep enough to stop.

Blake was hovering again, coming towards him with blue light shining from his eyes.

"The orbs are pretty much infinite mana," his brother called with a smile. "Navi thinks they respawn. Isn't that delightful?"

Mason knew it was probably a lie. On the other hand, it was just the kind of ridiculous arena Blake would get to fight him. So now what, exactly? Did he just keep climbing and getting knocked down until one of them got bored?

"Great. Now how exactly are you going to kill me?" Mason said, trying to brace himself with just his feet. If he could dig in his claws or possibly use two good rests, he decided he could probably get a shot off with his bow...

"Not sure yet. But I'll come up with something. I always do."

Blake started channeling, and Mason summoned his Bow of Anshan. He kicked his clawed toes awkwardly just above two of the holds, leaned his body back and drew, releasing a Power Shot just as he lost his balance and fell.

The shot slammed into Blake's shield and flared, but didn't pierce. An Arcane Blast followed a moment later, slashing a gash across Mason's face, just beneath his eyes. It was a crazy accurate shot, and a bit of blood sprayed down his chin. It was also a shallow wound and would heal almost instantly.

"Ha! And to think I was aiming for your claws!"

Mason caught himself and started climbing again, doing his best to stay clam. Blake was obviously putting on a show. Goading him. Doing his best to show the eastern continent they'd had a falling out and that Blake would be a welcome ally.

It made a perfectly rational sense, in a very Blake kind of way, but Mason didn't want to do it anymore.

First of all, considering how difficult this new world was for everyone, he wasn't sure their relationship was strong enough right now to pull it off. They were both changing and playing this game differently, and it was hard enough just to keep an open mind and communicate properly. Nevermind engage in some kind of…secret scheme.

Lying and sneaking and betraying were effective tools, no doubt. But they weren't how you built lasting trust. It was things like this that had already ruined Blake's reputation in Nassau, and Mason decided it was only a matter of time before Mason ruined his, too.

But the whole damn world was watching and it wasn't like he could just say 'I've changed my mind, call off the fake betrayal!'n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

All he'd wanted was for this to be over. And somehow, yet again, it was like roboGod had swooped in with exactly the right pin for his Mason-shaped voodoo doll, and jabbed it in.

"I think I'll try some flyers," Blake called. "I have a few new models. Arcanes with a big spear. I'll be back in a bit. Now stay down there and don't make me vanish half the wall so you can’t climb up."

Mason half closed his eyes as he started channeling. He was torn between a test and trying to end this in a single, devastating blast of lightning. But as Blake floated further and further he was forced to pick somewhere halfway in between.

Mason heard Blake's annoying floating robot call out a warning. But too late.

Energy coursed through Mason’s skin as the channel came to an end. He held up a hand and gestured at his escaping brother, and the brilliant bolt lit the black walls in a flash before the boom. Mason saw just enough to see Blake's shield flare.

"I can deal with magic now, too!" Blake shouted, voice untroubled. "Though that sound was…extremely unpleasant. Stop it."

Mason sighed, his hope for a quick victory coming to an end. Unless this arena started doing something crazy, he saw no obvious way to reliably get up there and deal with a mana-boosted Blake in the air. All he could think to do was keep trying now, and quickly, reaching the platforms before Blake destroyed too much of the arena walls.

With no more thoughts about magic or his bow, Mason dug his claws into the plastic, and again started to climb.

Blake was soon taunting him again. He summoned flying and more spider constructs as promised, and both started trying to skewer Mason as he picked his way past the now holdless section of wall. Mason did his best to fend them off, but just as often let the damn things hit him.

His back and limbs were soon a torn up mess of ruined armor and bloody, healing flesh. That it was Blake doing this to him felt vaguely impossible, like he was in some kind of awful dream he couldn't quite grasp. But it was just as hard to believe what he himself intended when he caught his brother.

It's not real, he told himself. It's just a game. He'll be fine the moment he wakes up.

The stink of arcane magic filled the air as one of Blake's flying constructs seemed to make half its body a spear and dove. Mason twisted and struck it with a Sleeve in the final moment, turning it off course to smash into the wall and drop.

Mason's grip vanished again, the wall around him 'unmade' in a square. This time when Mason went to catch himself, he felt an invisible force pulling him further from the wall. Blake was trying to fling him off with Telekinesis.

First Blood flared. Mason set his will against the magic, feeling the force like a physical thing trying to find some better purchase on his mass. It soon became obvious it couldn't move him so much as 'hold' him. And not for long.

After a second of falling, he burst out of the effect and again slashed his claws into the wall, climbing back even faster with ever increasing strength. And anger.

Blake wasn't taunting anymore. His remaining constructs came back for another round, and he started Making a new metallic wall, like a roof over Mason's head. Mason reached it and smashed it with a fist, denting it badly.

His third strike broke the metal, and he yanked it wider and pulled himself through, scraping himself bloody, then using the small lip as a platform to leap up with all his might.

Blake hadn't had the time to get rid of all the holds up near the top of the spherical arena. Mason launched himself easily now, racing across the holds until finally leaping for one of several available platforms.

The metal clanged beneath his feet, his clawed toes drumming the platform as he stood and stared at his brother only a leap away.

"You got a plan B?" he growled, walking forward as he flexed a clawed hand. It was time to end this.