The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)
Chapter 504: I left a woman in a tree

Mason waited on the slow lift down to the ground level, mostly as an exercise in patience. The urge to leap off the side and climb, or maybe just fall, was a lot like the urge for a woman or something to eat. He figured maybe his road to self-discipline could start with baby steps.

The thought of food didn’t help. He was apparently starving again…which wasn’t at all a good way to lead a meeting full of men. At least he wasn’t exactly giving bad news…

He paused when Billy’s ‘restaurant’ came into view. It’d been so long since he’d actually looked at most of the settlement he hardly recognized it. Had he even gone in since the ‘nature’ theme? Since the Nexus? Probably not.

What was once a vaguely sci-fi looking burger joint had been transformed into something that looked straight up…classy. Hell, inviting.

It looked like a 5 star restaurant in the Houston woodlands, probably with pretentious names for all the food. There was a definite elven kind of architecture, too, with the curving wood and lack of anything plastic.

He walked inside, grinning as he got hit with the scent of roasting meat and something frying in oil. The people and cuisine, at least, hadn’t changed much,

“There’s no time for that!” he heard the old fisherman Hank grumbling from the kitchen. “Just throw it all in. The man said five minutes and that was four minutes ago we’re not braising anything for Christ sakes.”

Mason shivered with hunger as his gut grumbled. He was pretty sure he’d have eaten roadkill, so it was fair to say expectations were low. He saw maybe half the men of Nassau gathered inside, with others coming in the various entrances. He took a moment to walk into the kitchen.

“Baron uh…that is, Master uh…” Billy went pink.

“Just Mason is fine. I’m actually starving, can I just…?” he leaned over a cutting board covered in half filleted fish, battling the urge to pick it up and eat it raw.

“We’ll have it fried in…” Hank shrugged. “Five minutes. There’s even some beer, such as it is. If you give us a few more minutes we’ll chop up some potatoes and get them…”

Mason lost another battle against discipline, and shoved the raw fish into his mouth. He closed his eyes in pleasure, and chewed, feeling Streak perk up from somewhere in the settlement like the son of a bitch could taste it and thought ‘hey what about me?’

When Mason opened his eyes again he found both men staring, the younger with an open mouth.

“I, uh, live pretty rough on the road,” he said, swallowing and clearing his throat. “Can’t always make a fire. You get used to it.”

“I’m sure.” Hank’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Well. We’ll just keep…working away here.” He glanced at a nearby bucket of dead fish, then back at Mason with a questioning eyebrow. “If you’re still, ah, I mean feel free to…”

“I can wait.” Mason fought the embarrassment, slowly becoming self-conscious and glancing at himself for the first time since he’d left the fey.

Fortunately, his shapeshifting dealt with most of his Transformations, and when he shifted back he returned to ‘normal’. He told himself Haley would have stopped him if he looked too dirty or disheveled.

“Come join us when you’re done,” he said, “this involves you, too.”

“Sure, boss.” Billy grinned. “Oh and I’ve been talking to uh, Orlon, you know, the elf? You thought maybe I should look into being out there a bit more. That I have some skills or whatever to get away from the goblins. Figured I’d check it out. Train to be like, a scout, or whatever. Though I was never in the boyscout’s or anything.”

“Right.” Mason smiled. “Absolutely. You saved a lot of lives that day. We’d be glad to have you.”

The kid looked like he’d been knighted. Then Mason reminded himself the ‘kid’ was probably like two years younger than he was. But the desperate desire for approval in the other’s eyes showed the gap between them.

Mason had been so busy he didn’t take the time to really think about how much had changed since the beginning of the game. But whatever Billy was, Mason was something different. Something older. Harder.

He assumed people basically saw him as…hell, he hardly knew—a gruff but practical guy, just a drafted soldier trying to protect them. Sure, he was in charge. And he’d done a lot of crazy things. But he was still the same, basically. Wasn’t he?

He smiled politely and made his way out to the main room, more aware now as the men started to notice him. Conversation and laughter died away. The players nodded and sat up straight or moved to some kind of attention. The civilians took the hint and started doing the same.

Mason wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He knew he’d cultivated it, maybe even demanded it—describing the settlement as a kind of outpost run by martial law. The reality was even crazier than that, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t he really a ‘baron’? The head of the House of Mason? It made him a feudal lord in the eyes of the system. Did it really matter anymore how things used to work?

He walked into the room and waved a hand for everyone to be at ease.

“We wait for the food,” he said, which got a few chuckles and seemed like it calmed nerves a little. Then he sat with Phuong and Carl, feeling a growing distance from most of the others but still not with them. The older men both smiled and nodded.

“You weren’t gone too long this time,” Phuong said. “Everything is well? We haven’t even sent out a team yet. Though we’re close. I figured half or so staying back would be wise, considering the…situation.”

He meant the ‘demon invasion’ situation. Mason nodded.

“Sounds good. We’ll deal with this and then I’ll be heading back out again. Maybe east, if I can manage it.”

“For Chinua and the others,” Phuong said, and Mason nodded. “Does your power let you cross the ocean?”

“It should.” Mason shrugged. “I haven’t tried, but I don’t see why not.”

“You sure you should try that alone?” Carl raised an eyebrow after a gulp of beer. “Maybe they’ve…got some kind of protections. Maybe they set a trap.”

“I doubt it.” Mason’s mind wandered to Blake, thinking it should be the two of them going over, facing the unknown. “Anyway, they’d have to be real ready to stop me. I can come out pretty much anywhere. I’ve never seen another human in the fey. At least not one I didn’t bring.”

Carl nodded, and for a few wonderful minutes they talked about mundane settlement problems, Phuong’s rescued son, and then mostly nothing, just enjoying each other’s company. The food and more drinks arrived, and Mason gorged himself with abandon, ignoring a few mocking comments from Carl.

“You know it’s the women who have to eat for two,” he finished. “Which is a good thing because I’d bet you’d be eating for about five by now.”

“Three,” Mason said, still chewing. “Well maybe four. Not really sure.”

Carl shook his head, then started laughing.

“You’re so fucked,” he said, wiping at his eyes before Phuong grinned, and Mason leaned back before all three of them started.

He sighed when it was over, thinking yeah, I probably am. But I’m not the only one.

“Well. No time like the present.” He smiled and wiped himself with a napkin and tossed it, giving Carl a grin.

The older man narrowed his eyes with a kind of ‘what do you know?’ glare. Mason stood and found a spot the men could all see him. He nodded to a few of his key people and took a breath.

“I’ll just come out with it, gentlemen. You’re all taking elven wives.” He paused, but they were all too stunned to say anything. “Our objective is to get them pregnant. Literally. I’m pretty sure you’re all going to get the message from the system when the thing is official. They haven’t been able to do it in a hundred years, so it’s not as simple as it sounds. Any questions before I go on?”

The men were looking at each other now, a few grinning or exchanging a laugh.

“You’re serious?” Tommaso shouted, because of course it was him.

“As a heart attack. Now, as I say, it’s not as easy as you think, but I’ve managed some kind of result with, uh, conception in a Gaia-blessed pool. In a nymph grove.”

More men were laughing now and Mason grinned and gave it a minute.

“Yeah, yeah. But this is a race of people nearly gone. They’re here for this. Half of them died for it. They don’t seem to be that excited about humans, either, so you have your work cut out for you. And if you think this is all rainbows and unicorns, and that your girlfriends are going to be happy with a bunch of pointy-eared beauties moving in, you haven’t thought this through.”

A few smiles died down at that. Though not a lot.

“Can we, uh, make some exceptions?” Carl said, going a bit pink. “I mean I’m happy to leave more for you boys.”

“Thanks, Carl,” someone shouted, and most of the men lost it.

Mason frowned. He’d considered this. He wanted it to be a kind of ‘house’ objective, to be everyone’s responsibility. He also wanted to mix his people with the elves, to get them crossing the current cultural chasm and becoming unified. And he couldn’t have his most senior men not doing it.

“No exceptions,” he said, and watched the concern in Carl’s eyes. “Sylvie is going to have to understand. It’s an order.”

“A fecking good order,” Seamus said, and the men all laughed again.

“Seriously, boss,” said Garet. “This can’t be it. I mean…we figured you’d say there was flesh-eating plague, or some new demonic invasion coming. We all get mandated elves? That’s the whole thing?”

“That’s the whole thing.” Mason smiled a little. “And it’s all fun and games until it doesn’t work, and your elven wives get angry. We’re going to have to try different things.”

The men were still all smiles and laughter (with one or two exceptions) and Mason didn’t fight it. They deserved to enjoy themselves. And they were right, it was a hell of a good order, even with the complications.

What followed were all kinds of ‘try different things’ jokes about positions and holes, and Mason waved a hand in defeat. He’d tell them later about the nymph in the great tree, about trying the fountain or the temple or apparently Haley’s ‘love herbs’, or who the hell knew.

He just hoped it wasn’t all a lost cause, and that the only thing that worked wasn’t his Blessing of Gaia.

Because his first new solemn act of discipline: he wasn’t taking more women into his ‘harem’. And knowing himself now he knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep with half the elves in Nassau as a ‘one time thing’, then send them off without caring. Better to distribute the problem now and take away his temptation.

He went for the door, but a few men lined up with questions. Kiaan asked if his already promised wife meant he’d get two elven wives, and Mason decided yes. The scout went away looking exceptionally pleased. Carl was next.

“Uh, so, listen kid, I get the whole solidarity and all, but some of our wives are gonna go…fucking ballistic. I’m good, I don’t need another woman. I can hardly handle the one I got.”

Mason sighed. He was tempted to give in, but decided this might not just be good for Nassau, it would be good for Carl.

“There’s four or more women for every man if we count the elves, Carl. Polygamy is just our practical reality. You’re my Chancellor—the most important man I have in the settlement. You should already have two or three. So Sylvie is going to have to understand. You don’t have to buy the elf flowers or whisper sweet nothings. How you handle it is up to you. But if you want…cultural lessons or something, I’m sure we can arrange it.”

“Jesus.” Carl wiped a hand over his baldness. “How the hell am I going to tell her?”

“Blame me, if you like. But do it.” Mason fully expected an enraged Sylvie in his (or probably Haley’s) office. But that woman could be a damn problem, and the experience of not getting her way on a regular basis would be good for her, too.

When the men of Nassau finally left him alone, he put the thought from his mind. Managing their relationships were officially their problem. He had enough trouble managing his own.

The men stayed behind him, still drinking and eating and laughing, and he felt a part of them but also at a distance. He realized he was maybe finally beginning to feel like their leader.

It made actually leading easier—he didn’t feel like an impostor anymore. He’d earned his position with blood and hard decisions. But it made it lonelier, too.

He walked back out into the evening air, mind busy with the story Dariya had spun, thoughts of all-powerful robot gods, immortal satyrs, his brother, and half a dozen beautiful women.

He had a lot to do, but he was at least starting to feel like he was getting a handle on things. Like the world made a kind of sense and he was starting to feel its rhythm.

[Congratulations, players and civilians, on surviving the first wave of phase 3. You have made it to the main portion of the Great Game.]

The world seemed to ‘stop’ as the text scrolled. Mason closed his eyes and cursed silently, but the God damn text appeared even in the darkness of his eye lids.

[Initial planar invasions are now ended. Randomized minor planar events are now in effect. Biological imperatives have been slightly reduced. All beacons are officially active. Good luck, players and civilians. The world is officially open. All dungeons, items, and events are available. You have at least one month until the final portion of the phase.]

Of course, Mason thought. He was just feeling vaguely comfortable. So why wouldn’t the system go ahead and change everything again?

“Hear that, boss?” Garet shouted from inside. “Sounds like less demons. Maybe we’re out of the woods, eh? At least we can go exploring again.”

“I don’t want to go exploring,” someone else shouted. “I want to stay home with my new wife.”

The men were laughing and shouting ‘amen’ and similar things, their mood improving by the minute. Mason’s instinct was to walk off and stew alone, but he knew that wasn’t right anymore. He wasn’t alone. He had a hall full of people behind him ready to help. A new family at the end of all things.

“Apparently the meeting isn’t over,” he called, flopping back down at a table inside.

“Told you that wouldn’t be all, boss.” Garet walked by and slapped his shoulder, inspiring another round of hilarity.

“You fucking jinxed it.” Tommaso threw a piece of food at him, but the men seemed like friends again.

Mason and the men went word for word over the announcement, deciding what they figured it meant. They were half drunk but still serious. Phuong’s eyes were focused and ready. Carl still looked flustered but had his game face on.

Mason looked around at the men, impressed. They weren’t afraid. They were ready for the next challenge. They were in it together.

As the afternoon wore on, Mason realized he had blinking lights in his profile, and it reminded him he had other things to do.

“Shit,” he said, getting up and gesturing at the others to continue without him. He looked at a questioning Carl and shrugged. “I forgot I left a woman in a tree.”

They laughed him out of the restaurant, but he couldn’t help but smile along with them.

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