The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 420: Allies

Mason growled when Streak tried to leave his punishment corner. The wolf hunched and sat back down with his face on his paws.

"Yes, you were bad. Very bad. No I don't care about the traps. I'm in charge, not you, and I said no eating players. So sit there and feel bad about yourself." He rolled his eyes when the wolf just whined and stared at him with confusion.

The satisfaction of winning his bout had been pretty much stolen at finding his enemy screaming with half his face ripped off. The emperor and his cabal of supporters were one thing. But he wasn’t going to win support by maiming and terrifying all his opponents.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Excessive violence against a human who had no choice but to fight would have been bad enough, but Mason also knew the whole damn world was probably watching. Now he looked like some kind of sadist who fed people to his wolf alive.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," said Carl, all grins after his own victory. Then he watched the video and winced. "OK. It was...well, it was pretty bad."

"I have seen much worse on the battlefield," Phuong said, also back after earning another easy victory, smiling politely and trying to be helpful. Mason sighed and got himself a beer and some wings, readying to pick away at the chicken bones as if in heaven as Streak watched.

"Oh yes I will," he said to the wolf's indignation. "Food's the only thing you understand. So you just sit there."

He groaned in fake pleasure as he chewed the meat, offering wings to every player in sight. He could pretty much feel the drool on his leg before Haley came up the stairs.

"Mason?"

He glanced up and smiled, and she hurried over to explain he had a man who wanted to speak to him waiting at the stairs.

"Brave guy after our little display." Mason gave Streak another swat on his flank, and the wolf growl/whined but didn't move. "We know anything about him?"

"Only what he told me. He said he was military in the old world. French Legion. The UN." She leaned in closer. "He said his name is Chinua. And from our talks with their civilians, there's some kins of outcast rebels who escaped Jeong led by a man named Chinua. He might be a potential ally."

Mason sat up straighter now. He was occasionally reminded he was young and had no actual experience leading people. Or dealing with foreign dignitaries. Or fighting in wars. He was just some damn kid from Texas.

Sure, he'd survived the apocalypse, and gotten increasingly, ridiculously powerful. But probably so had real army commanders and politicians.

"Alright,” he said, not sure how best to prepare. “Let him in."

Haley squeezed his hand then collected their guest. Chinua was a lean, six foot black man with grey stubble covering his scalp and face. His skin looked as hard and weathered as his eyes, his mouth curled in a kind of perpetual frown. He gave the overall impression of a man who saw the world clearly, and didn't much like it.

"Baron," he said, coming forward with a hand extended. Mason stood and shook it, instantly glad he had apocalypse strength at the other man’s grip, but not trying to flex his own.

"Just Mason, please. Made up titles annoy me."

Chinua didn't smile, or frown, or really react whatsoever. He just let go of his hand and stood there watching Mason's eyes.

"I won't waste your time. I belong to a unit of players with limited civilian resources, currently with no settlement. Assuming we're able to reach you physically, in return for your protection, particularly of our civilians, we would be willing to serve your house in an affiliate or allied capacity. I am authorized to negotiate terms."

Mason blinked and tried to keep up. It sounded like the man wanted to join him without becoming part of his house, which frankly Mason didn't care about anyway. If it didn't have advantages he wouldn't have made the thing in the first place.

"If you can join us physically," Mason repeated. "Does that mean you're in the east?"

Chinua stared. His stone face finally cracked enough to make sound.

"You can appreciate geographic information is highly sensitive."

"Yeah." Mason snorted and gestured at a chair, taking a seat himself. After a moment of hesitation Chinua sat opposite.

"It doesn't really matter," Mason added. "Wherever you’re from, we’d be happy to accept you. There's no terms except don't make violence. Everyone knows already we have a lot of space and resources, so it doesn't cost me to say so. There's plenty of room for you and your people. You don't have to join my house or make any promises except to defend our settlement. If it comes to that."

After another soul-searching stare, Chinua spoke.

"Define 'defend'."

Mason grinned.

"Physical invasion," he clarified. "Anything or anyone who comes to us looking for violence. That happens, I'd expect your help. That's pretty much it unless we worked out something else."

Chinua blinked and shifted in his chair as if uneasy.

"How would we...support ourselves. Could we hunt? Fish? Farm? Does your settlement have..." he looked a bit at a loss. "What are the rules? The laws?"

Mason shrugged. "No need. About the food, I mean. Of course your civilians are welcome to help or do whatever their specialties are. I mostly let the civilians handle themselves. As for the players, my soldiers have some duties. They'll probably get more. But if you're just guests..." he ran a hand down his face. "We've agreed to three civilian women per man. But it's more like a guideline. Just don't hit on anyone else's girl and we'll probably be fine."

Chinua kept on teaching statues a lesson in stillness. When he seemed to get tired of that he put an elbow on the table, though his posture didn't change.

"You mean to tell me, my people may stay in your settlement, protected by your players, with access to food...water. Housing? And all you ask is we...defend the settlement, and therefore ourselves, if attacked?"

Mason pursed his lips and shrugged again.

"Yeah. I guess so."

"That...isn't sustainable," Chinua said flatly.

After taking a second to see if the man was serious, Mason laughed.

"I’m starting to see maybe you eastern boys have had a different experience of the post-apocalypse. Where I'm from, we don’t worry much about laws. We worry about survival. If we get that knocked out then maybe we try and enjoy ourselves for a minute. Then it's right back to getting stronger and not dying before the phase changes. And that's pretty much it."

Chinua watched his eyes, and Mason felt his concern about old world generals and politicians slowly fading as he accepted all the rules had changed. These people were still thinking about a world where physics had been understood and taught in books. Where magic and gods and an actual creator were just things in art and religion, not the concern of worldly men.

"I'm not re-building mankind, Chinua," Mason said, meeting the man's stare. "Frankly, if in a hundred years people want to live like communists or monarchists, or if they want to build temples and worship clouds, I don't really care. The only thing I'm doing, the only thing I care about, is keeping humanity alive. So you're welcome in Nassau, not because I need you, though I probably do, but because I want you and your people to live. What you do is your business. And frankly I'm way too American and Texan to give a shit."

It took awhile, but Chinua the statue eventually cracked. His weathered face tried hard to remember how to smile.

"Alright, Baron Mason of House Mason, who does not like titles. My people are in the east, as you say, the last remnants of those who would not be slaves to Jeong and his ambitions. And though we currently have no way to cross the ocean between us and your settlement, when this farce is finished, know that doing so will occupy our every waking moment."

Again the man held out his rough, callused hand, and again Mason took it.

"If we can come get you, Chinua, we will. And I'd bet my last dollar that’ll happen sooner or later. So just keep safe, and hold on. If you don't want to give me more precise geographic detail, I understand. We have seers and scouts and we'll look for you. But I'll leave that up to you."

Chinua didn't hesitate this time. He took out a folded up piece of paper and placed it on the table.

"This is my civilian scout's map of the eastern continent. It includes a few dungeons, resource settlements unattached to the capital, monstrous dangers and tribes, along with the usual topographical information you'd expect. It's dated, of course, as we've been separated from the capital for months. But most will still be accurate. Our location is marked."

Mason slowly took the map, a grin sliding across his face.

"This is more valuable than you know, Chinua. I might be able to teleport using this information. We could be closer than you think."

"Than I am pleased," said the old soldier. "I have decided to trust you. I accept the possibility of destruction if this is an error. But in life, as in battle, sometimes a man must commit, and face what comes."

Mason nodded, liking this stone-faced man, and pretty thrilled at the possibility of having not just a new group of players, but probably men who understood war and violence.

With time he hoped they'd become just like any other person in Nassau, binding their fate together and doing everything they could to help. If their leader was any indication, Mason expected they would.

His paranoia tickled the back of his spine as usual, but the gift of the map (if accurate) was a huge boost to his trust. And if Mason was able to teleport across either with the beacon or with Wyrdwalk, he'd be discovering if the soldier was telling the truth very soon.

They both stood, and Mason nodded a goodbye.

"Good luck to you and your people," he said, "in the rest of the tournament, I mean. I'm sorry if we knock you out. And I'm happy to offer mutual surrenders if it looks over."

Chinua finally smiled with a bit of teeth, the whiteness a stark contrast to his near pitch black skin.

"May the best teams win," he said, then walked towards the stairs.

Mason sat and soon welcomed Haley back with a grin and an arm around her shoulders, feeling a lot of anxious tension fade.

"So it went well?" she said, obviously knowing it did. Mason kissed her cheek and 'teleported' them a couple drinks before staring at the table screen.

Apparently it was time to look up Chinua's team and their match history...

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