Chapter 42: Want to see my magic?

Chapter 42: Want to see my magic?

The remaining players of Nassau brought Blake, the re-disguised Seul-ki, and all their civilians to Sebastian’s ‘meeting hall’.

Sebastian sat at the end, his three most loyal minions intimidating everyone into the chairs. Alvaro was a stocky black Cuban, who carried a metal cudgel and seemed to have no powers other than a touch attack that the others said could basically wither anyone into a husk. David, who was maybe Mexican, carried a seemingly endless supply of knives, and juggled them like an acrobat when he was bored. Then there was Norman, a teenage track star from Arkansas, who understood the game better than most, and moved like a damn hunting cat with a pair of short swords. They were all very dangerous, and Blake had little doubt they’d be able to kill his allies, even without Sebastian’s help.

Blake had never actually seen the ‘chief’ fight. All he knew was from the minds of others, and that he carried a big metal disc that was probably a shield. He was some kind of ‘tank’ class that could soak up a lot of violence without going down, but he was also very strong.

“I want bonded contracts,” the big man growled in Blake’s direction. “At least a year in length. I want them now.” His dark eyes almost trembled, the anger in his voice barely suppressed.

Blake looked around the room. The civilians all stared at the table, or the walls, or their feet. If it wasn’t for Blake of course they’d still be rotting in a prison, half starved and dehydrated while Sebastian sweated them as far as he could without the system penalizing him. They’d already signed a service contract, but being bonded was something else entirely. It put them at the mercy of the chief and his goons, who could literally command them like slaves, and do anything except cause lasting physical damage, or kill them.

“Use your magic and make it happen,” Sebastian barked. “Or you’re a useless mouth to feed.”

Blake sighed, not sure how to pacify the man in such a state. “Don’t we have bigger problems, chief?” He countered with his most submissive tone. “Isn’t there some murderer out there trying to kill us? What difference does a bunch of civilian contracts make?”

Sebastian slammed the table. The closest leg snapped, and Blake realized whatever his other powers, the strength part was not an exaggeration. “You let me worry about killing who needs killing,” he growled low and dangerous. “It’s under control. You just get me what I want, and you do it right god damn now, or I’m going to beat you to death in this room.”

Blake swallowed as he felt the presence of Alvaro and his cudgel directly behind him. He tried to meet the eyes of the civilians but none would look at him. None, that is, except Hank. He gave a brave smile.

“I’ll sign,” he said. The others raised their heads in surprise. The angler met Sebastian’s eyes without a hint of fear. “Don’t think it’ll last long, to be honest. I expect you’ll be dead pretty soon.”

With that his eyes unfocused, and he swiped his hand as if in signature, then shivered as some effect took hold. Sebastian practically licked his lips.

“You shouldn’t have spoken like that to me. Get up,” he growled. Hank obeyed. “Strip off your clothes and sing the anthem.”

Hank rolled his eyes, but didn’t hesitate. He stripped down entirely naked and started singing with a surprisingly good voice, and Blake felt his chest swell with pride at the man’s courage.

Sebastian looked almost wet with sweaty anticipation. He looked at Blake. “The others. Now.”

Perhaps it was Hank’s example that inspired the others. Or perhaps it was watching him shamed. One by one the other civilian men stood and swiped their hands, then they stripped off their clothes without being ordered, and stood shoulder to shoulder with Hank. None of the women moved.

“Women too,” Sebastian licked his lips. “Now.”

Blake could hardly stomach the ugly look on the man’s face. He knew instantly the women would never, ever sign, nor would he try to make them.

He took Seul-ki’s hand beneath the table, for the first time truly understanding the depth of her fear, and indeed why so few women were players. Then he focused his mind. He flooded it with mana and will, releasing it in a spear of control straight at the least trustworthy of Sebastian’s minions—the mercenary knife thrower, David, just as he signaled his allies.

Now, or never, he whispered in their minds. Fight and be free in living or dying. Or do nothing, and crawl as Sebastian’s dogs.

The doors behind Blake and the girl smashed open as a group of young men burst out behind them.

“Now, or never!” Blake was shouting as he raced down the hill. Mason didn’t need instruction. He stopped and drew, already accepting anything not Blake or Haley or apparently this new girl was his enemy. He loosed his first arrow, then three other men—who’d apparently been hiding on the top of the hall—either leapt down or started throwing spears.

Mason didn’t much care who they were or why. He loosed a steady volley of arrows at anything and anyone on the ground that moved closer to Blake, for now saving Power Shot and Crippling Strike and just using normal arrows. He pierced limbs and torsos of at least two of the players before the melee turned into a swirling maelstrom of weapons, magic powers, and curses.

“The ones on the roof are with me!” Blake shouted as he nearly reached the bottom of the hill.

Mason nodded, but still didn’t much care. As he was about to loose another arrow, one of the young men vanished from the melee, and appeared maybe two steps from Blake’s back.

“Duck!” Mason shouted.

They’d known each other too long and too well for Blake to hesitate. He grabbed the girl beside him and launched them both to the pavement. Mason blasted a Power Shot straight through where he’d been standing.

The duel wielding teleporter was smashed off his feet in a spray of blood. But Mason believed in finishing one’s target. He stepped forward and loosed arrow after arrow into the squirming body until the system sent its message.

[Player killed. Experience awarded.]

“Get behind me,” he growled, and Blake and the girl scrambled off bloody hands and knees to do as instructed. “Where’s Haley?” he said, watching the fighting but for a moment not interfering.

“She’s in that house.” He gestured. “But, she’s fine. You have to save my friends!”

I don’t have to do shit, Mason thought, pretty happy to watch the others trying to kill each other.

The roof jumpers had a casualty on the ground who looked like he’d been torched to a crisp. They’d taken down the guy with a club, but the big man with the shield was chasing them off easily now and seemed to basically ignore their attacks. The guy with the knives was protected behind him.

Mason decided it was time to kill knife-boy. He was about to start launching a new volley when the nearby gate screeched and started opening. A group of male voices went from joking to alarm as the second group of raiders came running through, weapons in hand.

Mason’s heart finally started moving faster. He tried to drop his traps, but apparently they didn’t work in the town, either. He took a breath and readied to take down the knife-thrower as planned, knowing his time was quickly running out.

Blake wouldn’t be able to get over that wall. He couldn’t just run away, and this was no damn place to fight them all. He should have been in the trees, where he could withdraw and hide and pick them apart. But he wasn’t. Things were about to get interesting.

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