Chapter 399: Is it over?

Chapter 399: Is it over?

The system made Mason and all the other players fight for another twenty four hours, approximately every 30 minutes.

Which was at least was better than every 15. There were far more individual bouts than team bouts, and Mason's opponents were almost always Easterners. Despite a few very bad arenas, they always had no chance.

One or two gave him a workout. These were faster players who kept their distance and were good at dealing with his arrows. But his regeneration, near endless stamina, and either infinite or nearly infinite arrows (the mana cost was getting pretty damn low for him now, even in unnatural environments), meant it was always just a matter of time.

The more direct and melee-oriented types he slaughtered, their strength and speed just totally inadequate. The casters were rare, interesting, and sometimes surprising, but never any real threat.

Eventually Mason was also forced to fight some of his own players.

"Ah hell." Garet had stepped out with a pink face and a salute. "I'd like to play it out, chief, if you don't mind. But you know...maybe just...go easy on me."

Mason had nodded and started with a few easy shots in a relatively open arena. Garet apparently had a kind of 'deflection' spin with his spear, and he did a good job with the basic arrows.

Power Shot had him cry out and leap to the side, though, the missile blasting a chunk out of his bicep. He looked at it and winced.

"OK to keep going?" Mason called, and the tough spearman nodded. Mason drew his Claws and advanced, giving a few test swings before Garet growled and activated his 'phantom spears', or whatever it was called.

Being on the other side of it was actually a good experience—Mason was glad to see just how terrifying it was.

Ghostly spearpoints jabbed at him in a half circle, basically forcing anyone with any sense to withdraw. Garet came charging straight through it with a powerful thrust and a good ambush, but the attack was just too slow.

Mason deflected it easily, pretty sure he could just wade into the phantom spears and end it. But he backed up like any normal fighter would. They went a few more blows before Garet just shook his head.

"Man you're fast. Not sure what to do about that."

"Can you close those spears?" Mason said. "Like make a full ring all around me?"

Garet shook his head. "I wish. It makes me give you an out. And I can make it a lot bigger if I make it straighter. If I could get you cornered, maybe, like against a wall."

Mason nodded, reminding himself that all kinds of other people were very likely watching, analyzing.

"We can train later. Well fought. I'll see you after."

Garet had nodded and muttered a surrender, and the arena vanished.

Mason fought Seamus, too, and the fire mage leapt out from behind some kind of bunker with his prestige class power blasting, raining death as he threw every projectile and some kind of fiery lance, all in a well-timed inferno.

Mason just stood in the middle and took it. His flesh burned and healed, Apex Predator flaring with elemental affinity, Transformation started changing the very nature of his flesh as he waited until it was done.

"Good enough?" he said.

Seamus slumped and unsummoned his staff, fiery glow in his eyes shrinking until he sat down and kicked a rock.

"You know it's even more depressin’ that I got it off, and that it didn't do a fecking t’ing."

"Not true," Mason said. "It hurt. A little."

"Thank the lord." Becky collapsed onto Mason's couch in their hotel suite, flopping on top of him. "You're not a good pillow," she said, eyes closed and mouth half pressed against his chest. "Too hard. Need more donuts."

Haley, Rosa and Lexi all came out of the bedroom in various states of dress. He’d kept them about as busy as players.

"Is it over?" Haley had slightly bruised eyes and she was walking like most of her body was sore.

"For now," Mason said, looking his three civilian girls up and down. Their hair was totally disheveled, their legs bare, their tops covered in ruffled, hastily thrown on t-shirts. Mason was pretty sure they hadn’t left the hotel room for...quite awhile.

Without much else to occupy his mind or time, and almost never enough time to sleep, he'd been practically banging them routinely every 30 minutes for a day. Or maybe it was two days.

"Haley," Rosa said, her voice a pleading whine. "He's looking at us again."

Haley linked arms with her, then Lexi on the other side. They all sort of raised their chins like righteous warriors fighting for their cause.

"Mason," Haley said. "Our jaws are sore. And...so are other things. We haven't slept properly since I don't know when. And Becky can speak for herself. But we all need to sleep and then maybe get massages and a little relaxation time. We're not sex robots. We're on strike."

Becky seemed to snort, but when he looked down she was basically drooling on his chest, so she was probably already asleep. He looked at the three girls and fought his smile as well as he could.

"OK."

Haley looked back and forth like it was some trick.

"The bedroom is off limits," she said, like she hadn't expected success. "It's for girls only. For...eight hours."

"OK."

Rosa whispered something in her ear and Haley licked her lips.

"Also, we're not saying we didn't like it."

"Sex strike. Eight hours. Tired but you liked it. Anything else?"

"Umm.” The girls conferred again in whispers. “No."

With that they all kind of stepped back towards the bedroom like Mason might change his mind. After stopping and exchanging a final look, they all came forward and gave him a kiss on the forehead one by one, then turned and practically ran back to the bedroom.

Lexi went last, giving him a big smile and blowing another kiss before she vanished and closed the door.

Mason grinned. He ran his hands through Becky's hair and felt his eyes starting to close, letting the intensity of the last few days drain beneath his cowgirl's warm body.

It wasn't over, he knew. Not by a long shot. He hadn't fought any of the eastern 'council', or learned if the others had.

And, of course, he hadn't fought the emperor. He wasn't sure how important it was. If a victory bought Nassau peace or if it would enrage the man and invite war even faster.

Would it create some doubt and chaos in the east? Bring down this 'emperor' without firing a metaphorical shot in the real world?

Mason just didn't know, and probably couldn't. But he decided to leave the politics for others. All that mattered, in the end, was that he was going to step into a ring with other men one or two at a time, and only Mason was going to come out alive. The reasons didn't matter, and the doubt was a waste of time.

He was going to fight, and he was going to win. As his eyes closed and his mind drifted, it was the only thing he knew for sure.