Mason led his increasingly large and powerful pack of players across the forest, his mind on the battles ahead. He didn't want to get overconfident, but it was hard to imagine anything he'd seen in the forest posing a threat.

The only thing he could think of was another giant pack of goblins and trolls, but he doubted they could make such an attack again any time soon. According to Blake, it cost the tower orcs quite a lot to make a raid, and they could only do so in limited numbers. He expected the goblins would be similar.

Still, as he trekked through the forest he kept his senses tuned to any change. Occasionally he spoke to the trees with Speak with Nature, asking what they'd seen. He sent Streak ahead to scout, but he always came back with no sign of danger.

By early evening they reached the foot of the mountain, and Mason turned to the others for a quick inspection. The physically weaker players looked somewhat exhausted.

"Calypsa," he turned to the nymph. "Can you refresh everyone? I don't intend to camp."

The raven-haired warrior nodded and held out an arm, and instead of the acrid fumes of arcane magic, Mason's senses filled with the scent of fresh life and morning dew. He sighed and almost shivered in pleasure, realizing the magic had affected him as well.

"Bloody hell that's good," said the big Scotsman with a smile. Then he glanced around and seemed to realize he'd spoken aloud, turning slightly red as he nodded to Calypsa. "Thanks kindly, miss."

Calypsa, as usual, said nothing. That the man's affinity was likely arcane probably didn't help.

"There's some kind of illusion right there, Mason." Blake pointed at the mountain, and Mason quirked an eyebrow. Blake gestured at the little...sphere-thing floating over his shoulder. "Navi here identified it. I'm guessing it's hiding an entrance."

Mason stared at his brother in his...cart, then at the silent constructs. He reminded himself that things with Blake had changed quite a bit. They needed to have a longer conversation about his new powers and what all he could do.

"Can you get rid of it?" he asked. "Or do we just walk right through?"

"Yes." Blake smiled, then started forward. Mason held him back.

"First things first. I want one group at the entrance. The rest of us are going to do a quick sweep." He quickly assessed the group and decided. "Phuong, Calypsa, Becky, you're with me and Streak. The rest of you stay here. I don't want anything leaving that entrance alive. Understood?"

Blake nodded, and Mason realized he had to leave someone officially in charge. He briefly considered leaving Phuong instead but fought the notion.

They didn't trust Blake anymore, and he knew why, but frankly at the moment he didn't give a shit. He wasn't going anywhere, and Mason would be relying on him for all kinds of things in the future. They all had to get used to it.

"Blake's in charge," he said, then without another word, turned and raced east around the mountain.

* * *

Blake flinched as his brother ran off. He'd rather his 'return' to any kind of authority waited for a bit more trust to build. But he supposed things never happened exactly when you wanted. He put on a big smile and glanced at the others.

"Well. Seems we got the easy job. I'm going to get a little closer to that illusion. Feel free to come along."

He stepped off his chariot and offered his hand to Seul-ki, which she took with a polite smile. For a moment he wasn't sure if he should keep holding her hand or not but decided against it, mentally commanding his constructs forward and following in their wake.

Annie instantly followed. The others a few beats after that.

To the left of their position was a small lake, to the right a series of hills that rose up along the mountainside. Mason had obviously brought them to the entrance on purpose using whatever map power he had, but to the naked eye it looked more or less like a flat rise with some cliffs above.

"There, master, on the wall," Navi chirped. "There are several kinds of illusion magic. So it may not be runic in nature. But since there is a lingering effect, it will have some kind of physical trigger, or be easily dispelled."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Thank you, Navi." Blake smiled warmly at his familiar. Despite Blake's failure to consider how to fully utilize the thing, she really was priceless. Her knowledge constantly increased his understanding of the game, and he couldn't imagine a more important function.

He approached the mountainside without much concern. Between his own shield, Alex behind him, his constructs and all the other players, he couldn't imagine being ambushed. Even so his heart beat slightly faster, but mostly from excitement. Here he was in this crazy new world, exploring the unknown with who knew what rewards.

He knew it was all vaguely dreadful, of course. How many people had died, he wondered, since all this began? Surely it was in the billions. The fate of the elderly was still unknown, but more and more Blake expected they'd been more or less discarded. So much death and tragedy and apathy from their new, synthetic god. And yet here Blake was, gaining ever in power and opportunity, enjoying every moment.

Life remained, he supposed, supremely unfair.

As he moved closer to the mountain, his vision began to blur as if heat were rising from beneath. Then the rock shimmered and blue symbols began to emerge like etched markings on the surface. Blake could read them as well as English words, and text flashed before his eyes.

[Enchantment Identified. Perpetual Minor Effect.]

He grinned, and opened True Making. He had already learned this particular enchantment in the dungeons, and with less than 5% of his mana and a few moments effort, he pulled apart the symbols and the rock they were inscribed upon. The illusion vanished with a pop.

"Well son of a bitch," muttered Garet, and Blake gave him a wink.

Where before had been nothing but flat, rising stone, now stood huge double doors roughly the height and width of two trolls. The ground around it was covered in filth and refuse, and as the illusion magic vanished the players were also assaulted with a profound stink of rot and waste. Blake covered his nose.

"I didn't expect a red carpet, but this is a bit much."

He heard some retching behind him which definitely didn't help. But as he did his best to keep himself steady, he looked out over the nearby cliffs and started to see what looked like the circular openings of pipes.

"They have a damn sewer system," he muttered. "Would be nice if they could teach the orcs."

Seul-ki glanced at him with a curious brow, and he just sighed and patted her hand.

"Let's...move slightly back," he suggested to the others. "We'll have to wait for the others. And I'd rather not wait in goblin poop. And apparently Jason's vomit."

"Not my fault," the quiet man wiped at his nose and started walking back to the woods. "Got a weak stomach."

* * *

Mason found his first troll less than a mile from the entrance. It was another 'semi-tamed' version without armor or brands, so Mason didn't bother with any of Rosa's acid vials.

With a silent glance at Phuong and Becky, he moved forward with Streak until he saw the creature smell him. It turned and roared in challenge, and Mason was happy to oblige.

The wolf, nymph and players advanced in a ragged line, then circled the troll as it turned back and forth, clearly not sure who to attack.

Finally it roared and launched itself at Mason, who fell back as Streak and Phuong ripped into its legs, and Calypsa skewered its guts with her spear. When it gave up and spun to deal with them, Mason charged with Aspect of the Cheetah and buried his Claws into the thing's back.

It roared and spun in angry circles, but it was too slow. Phuong and Streak sliced and tore chunks as Mason climbed the creature with his swords, then started hacking at his neck and face. It soon tripped and fell as it tried to pull him off, and the wolf and swordsmen ripped it apart.

[Mountain Troll killed. Group experienced gained.]

"Ya'll didn't need me at all!" Becky frowned with her hands on her hips, and Mason gave her a fierce grin.

"You worried you won't get any action, country girl?"

She wiggled her eyebrows, then her hips. When Phuong cleared his throat and started to protest both Mason and Becky laughed.

"Let's go, old man. I want to get a few miles in both directions. But it looks like the bastards are already hiding."

Phuong nodded. "I agree. Maybe they've already been informed their attack failed."

"I expect so. Whatever else they are, these creatures aren't stupid. We might be walking into all kinds of unpleasant traps."

The thought was sobering, but didn't change a thing. Mason led the others onwards, finding nothing but another troll or two, equally isolated and oblivious with no chance to face the group.

Then they turned and made their way back, Mason leading them through some smaller hills that bisected the mountains to come out the other side. They found the exact same situation there—a few wandering trolls with no support or goblin attention.

It was a little disappointing, if Mason was honest. The killing urge still rippled up and down his limbs, the cold anger to find and kill every creature that had come to destroy the things he loved. But he knew he's soon have his chance.

The sun was gone entirely when the group returned to the other players at the goblin entrance. They found them laughing and relaxed by a fire, in what looked like lawn chairs, playing cards on a circular table.

"Where in the hell did y'all get any of this?" Becky's eyes went wide as she inspected, then dropped when Blake cleared his throat.

"I can make more than chariots, my dear. A quick game of whist, brother?" Blake's smile turned slowly to a frown when he met Mason's eyes. "Right. Straight to murdering. Just trying to have a little fun in the apocalypse. Off we go!"

The chairs and tables crumbled in a circled rotation, everyone rising in time except Garet, who collapsed in the dirt. A few players grinned, but turned serious quick now that Mason had arrived. It was a lonely feeling, in a way, but he knew it was how it had to be.

They gathered behind him, and for a moment he stared at the double doors leading into the mountain, imagining a giant maze of bombs and booby traps and flame shooting goblin engineers. But he'd brought a lot of firepower. And he knew they wanted revenge almost as much as he did.

The 'Greenblood Order' had killed a player right in front of him, and who knew how many more. They'd all but destroyed a great tree. And they'd killed two civilians as they tried to wipe Nassau off the map. Now it was time to put an end to them once and for all.