CHAPTER 590: ROADS AND DUST

Mason led his and Chinua’s players (plus about a hundred goblins) towards the holy city. The goblins looked more concerned about the giant sky than where they were going, or the army of humans waiting at the end. Sometimes they pointed out clouds like they were afraid they might start dropping bombs, or something.

The players weren’t doing much better. Mason could sense the unease—he could smell the fear. For the moment he said nothing, knowing it was one thing to face monsters in some dungeon designed to be dealt with. But the rules between players were a lot less clear. These were people, human beings. And no one knew what would happen when they got to the city.

They all pretended to be calm, though, and Mason didn’t disturb the fiction. There wasn’t much difference between courage and faking it. The physical exertion of keeping up to him helped. The casters and support players were doing their best, but they were definitely starting to sweat.

He was about to slow down and give them a break when Lodie suggested they ride with the engineers on their scooters. After some false starts and laughter, even Alex managed to get himself up and holding on.

There were a few jokes about which man got to ride with Lodie. But before Mason had even given them a look, the goblin princess hissed like a cat and flicked some switch that made a threatening hum. The men backed off, and she was back to all smiles.

The short march continued. Chinua eventually found his way up to Mason’s side, nodding before glancing at the goblins.

“How is it you came to have such allies? I’ve never seen a creature in this world that wasn’t hostile.”

Mason snorted. He knew how that felt.

“I guess we’ve figured out goblins are sorta like us. Humans, I mean. Some nasty, some nice. Orcs and centaurs are further on the nasty side. But my brother thinks…” he trailed off and shrugged. “I try to be fair. And it’s nice to have the occasional thing that’s not trying to kill you.”

Chinua nodded as if this was sensible. They walked in comfortable silence, the heat of the afternoon eastern sun soon enough to make even the more physical players sweat. They saw some scattered trees, a few small bodies of water. And absolutely no sign of any threatening wildlife.

The east was definitely a different place to the giant forest Mason had started in. You could see in every direction here, with mostly a rolling plains filled with tall grass. They’d even started to pass some farmland now—crops that were maybe half grown and would start feeding people in a few months.

Some civilian farmers stopped and stared at Mason and his people. They were obviously frightened, but with no idea how to react. A few of Mason’s people waved or smiled, and the confused farmers either waved back or ran off.

They found some fruit orchards, some actual livestock penned up behind fences. There were little towns or at least clusters of dwellings, with dozens of people lining up to stare at the ‘invaders’. There was even a nice, paved road that started up with the towns, and branched off in a few directions.

“Jesus,” muttered John the Scot. “We were fightin’ for our lives. And these bastards had time to make fuckin’ roads?”

Mason snorted, flicking a sign that read ‘Holy City’ with a big, green arrow as he walked by. A few players laughed, others just shook their heads. It was hard to imagine having spent the last few months in such dominance and safety you could literally announce to the whole damn world where you slept.

“I had to strap myself into trees at night,” he muttered as Carl came up for a look.

“We had nice, big walls,” Carl said, looking more serious. “They didn’t save us.”

He meant his first settlement, ‘Sanctuary’, that had joined Nassau when attacked by orcs. Mason nodded. He rarely felt safe, and when he finally did he’d lost five people. Better to be sharp and ready to fight. Was Jeong?

“Not worried about enemies, I guess.”

Mason regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He felt another wave of concern from his people, a fresh dose of anxiety as the walls of the holy city slowly entered view in the distance.

After all, if people weren’t worried about being found or attacked, there was usually a reason. But he expected that reason was hubris. And a lack of being challenged properly.

“What happens?” Chinua whispered later, walking up right beside him. “If you cannot defeat Jeong?”

Mason snorted. What did he want him to say? The man was a soldier. Surely he understood. But as he looked at him he realized he was just testing. Probably to see if he doubted himself. If he was afraid.

“You’ll have to kill all the demons yourself,” he said.

Chinua just nodded, his stone face not even cracking a smile. They walked on a little while before he spoke again.

“I would prefer it if you succeed.”

“Yeah,” Mason said. “Me too.”

The walls got bigger and bigger—maybe thirty feet high, with an ancient, stacked rock kind of look. Chinua had dropped back to his people, and everyone seemed to be leaving Mason alone. At least until Becky and Demi came up with forced ease.

“Are you the cheer squad?” he said with a neutral expression. “Here to boost my spirit?”

“Maybe.” Becky winked. “We were talkin’ back there and figured there’s a nice hill over yonder.” She pointed with her mace, now summoned and resting on a shoulder. “Might be we could gather up on that. Look pretty from their towers.”

“My power is still down,” Demi said, looking miserable. “I was hoping it would…” she shook her head. “I shouldn’t have used it in that stupid raid.”

“You saved lives,” Mason said. “And the hill is fine.”

“Maybe Jeong has similar powers, I mean with long cooldowns,” Demi said. “Maybe if we make him fight, then keep back, you know? Like fight him twice? And you can always bring him to us.”

He took the time to slow down and give his lover a smile. He knew she was just worried about him, and he didn’t need to smell any floating magic motes.

“I’ll be alright,” he said, taking her hand. “This is what I was made for, remember? A good, loyal sheep dog. If you want, just come a little closer than the others. Make sure our titles stay in range.”

Demi nodded and fought some tears, which made Becky roll her eyes.

“I could get somewhere and hide,” the cowgirl said. “Pop out and give you my Aegis. Ain’t exactly fair, maybe, but to hell with this asshole. And you just know he’s gonna try and cheat!”

Mason gave her a smile, too. ‘Cheating’ in war—there was a concept. He knew Jeong would do anything and everything to kill him, that there were no rules, no limits, no consideration of honor or principles of any kind. He would just have to overcome it all.

“If I need to, I’ll fall back to the hill. But I expect to have to fight some other players first.”

“What if he just ignores you and hides in the damn city?”

That seemed likely. But Mason wasn’t going to get tired or go away.

“I’ll knock down the walls.”

“Uh.” Becky glanced at the obviously thick stone. “Why? Like…with goblin bombs, or somethin’? Probly easier just to climb or jump ‘em.”

She was right. It would be much easier. But he knew what the steady pounding of his fists would do to the people inside—how they’d feel as they watched a man smash his way through their pretty stone with his bare hands.

And it would get Transformation and Duality of Strength ticking.

Ordinarily, he wouldn’t want to get himself too dense and heavy—too covered in Transformations and slowed before the duel. But with his gravity-defying boots, he had no idea what his limits even were. How ‘dense’ and strung like a coiled spring could he be and still move without the effects?

He didn’t know. But physics was going to have a weird fucking day.

He and the girls walked on in silence, and he led his people to the hill, staring out at the city.

“Show time,” he muttered, mostly to himself, feeling the nerves, and the anticipation. A part of him was afraid of failure. Another part was excited for the blood and the challenge and the suffering. But in that moment he recognized the boy and man he’d been, and knew he hadn’t lost himself. Not entirely.

Beneath it all, he just wanted the madness to be over. He wanted the monsters put down, and everyone else to muddle their way through without needing a man like him. Let them quibble about the best housing and who ate what when.

That was the business of men, not the gargoyles on their churches. Or the sheep dogs, he thought with a smile.

In that moment he wanted to put revenge against robo-God from his mind. What was done was done, and you’d never convince a thing with no guilt or compassion to feel it. He just wanted to win, and to settle in the woods with his family and friends, and never kill again except to eat.

But there was one man left standing in his way. And then a time of peace, time to prepare against whatever climax their synthetic overlord had planned. Probably an army of demons to put down. Maybe a god. And then it was done.

He looked back at the others. His players, and Chinua’s, and his ridiculous goblin allies. They made quite a sight on that hill, a true army of ‘irregulars’.

“Stay here. Be ready for anything?” Carl shouted, to a chorus of nervous laughter from his people. But their eyes were getting harder now. Their spines straighter. Violence was here and violence was a thing they’d begun to understand.

Phuong’s purple blade was out and weaving as if unconsciously. Seamus was shooting little sparks of fire between his fingers. Garet and Tommaso were over their hangovers, talking in the back as the tactician started getting in Phuong’s ear. Annie looked calm. So did John the Scot. Alex looked…well who the hell knew. But at least he had a pretty flower necklace.

With a nod and a grin at Carl, Mason turned for the city. But he paused and blinked, utterly surprised and not sure what he was seeing. There was a line of dust coming straight at him from the city gates.

It looked like a single man, running as fast a car.

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