Turned out the training hall could simulate 'shadow' opponent players, and you could fight as many as you liked, setting the difficulty on the same sort of scale as the 'tests'. He picked two, and set the difficulty somewhere around the same as his ‘king of the hill’ efforts. Then slaughtered them.

He bumped the difficulty, which made it a little tougher, but his enemies still couldn't hurt him enough. So he cranked it up a few difficulties at a time, partially just wanting to see all the different combinations and powers the system was simulating.

After every bout he fed Streak to keep him going, but the wolf seemed to match his energy. By the time Mason had the difficulty up to the top of the scale, Streak was growling in anticipation as the red and blue light flared.

He was also forced to change the settings to 'nature' themed because he was running out of mana, and it didn't come back nearly as fast as his body. The usually empty training hall court became a cluttered jungle, or a forest, or a jagged ridge with a steep elevation.

As he fought in the different arenas, Mason began to expect the tournament would test them in more ways than just player powers. Would it use different kinds of competitions, sort of like the training hall? Create bouts that weren't just straight fights to the death, but highest kill counts against neutral enemies? Or make them fight under water? On a cliff?

He passed along his suspicions to the other players, most of whom were in their own corners of the hall practicing. Most actually seemed happy, thinking maybe the system wouldn't force 'allied' players, especially in the same House, to fight to the 'death', and would be more likely to give them other kinds of challenges. Mason wasn't so sure.

He thought back to his tutorial—back to the system instantly changing his reward to speak with Blake once it knew that's what would motivate him. Whatever this thing wanted, it wasn't to help people get along. It wanted them suffering, struggling, with little bits of cheese before it pulled them back to suffer again.

But he smiled and pretended otherwise. Whatever a leader was, Mason decided, it wasn't someone who took people's hope away, even if he thought it was wrong. Not unless he knew for a fact they had to face life without it. And right now Mason didn't know much of anything.

So he went back to his corner of the training hall, and put a hand to Streak.

"Ready, boy?" he said, stopping long enough to make sure. Streak growled, ready as ever, despite already taking considerable punishment. Mason nodded, turned the difficulty up to the max, and stepped back into the court.

It took him longer to beat the next set. Exploiting Strike showed its purpose and strength, every blow seeming to move faster, his Claw eventually striking with force that didn't seem to obey the laws of physics. He shattered the 'shadow' players apart and summoned another round.

Sometimes they fought like melee players, other times like casters or ranged. A pair even conjured 'pets' like Blake, both hiding behind trees to block arrows, then sending a series of ghostly animals. It was working pretty well, until Streak got around and bit out their fake throats.

The hours ticked, and eventually Mason was alone in the training hall. He took a break and sat with Streak, active mind moving through the few fights, his brain still absorbing the tournament to come. He heard two people coming to the door and closed his eyes, breathing in Haley and Rosa's scents before they came closer.

"I've brought snacks,” Haley said. “And a cheerleader."

The blonde wiggled some kind of picnic basket and grinned. She and Rosa were both wearing pajamas, and looked tired. Mason smiled and gestured them closer.

"Bit surprised to see you," he said towards Rosa. "I know how you like your beauty sleep."

"Maybe I just wanted to come watch you and see you," she said as if offended. "Did you think of that?" When he kept on staring without expression, she rolled her eyes. "OK, I wanted to convince you to take me to the tournament."

Mason had already decided to take her, of course, but he raised a fake skeptical brow.

"Why should I do that?"

"Well." Rosa stepped forward and launched into what was obviously a practiced speech. "I know you can't use my potions in the fighting. But since we haven't actually met any alchemists, I figure even in the east they'll be pretty rare. So I can maybe sell some things. And if there are alchemists then maybe I can even learn some recipes, or buy some, or just chat with people and get them to...what?"

Mason couldn't fight the grin anymore. Rosa put her hands on her wide hips.

"Of course I'm taking you," he said. "But that was adorable."

Rosa actually went a little pink, and Mason laughed as he came forward. She slapped at his hands and turned her face away. When he turned it back and kissed her, she bit his lip. It took two more tries before she sunk into him and put her head against his chest and sighed.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"OK. I want in, too." Haley literally pushed her way in to make a three-way hug, and pretty soon Streak was running over and looking for a space to squeeze in his head. Mason sighed and gave him a scratch.

"Alright. Give me the basket. I'm going to bed."

He took the food and put his arms around the girls, then walked very slowly and peacefully back to his mansion in the trees. They didn't say a word as they walked, just holding each other close as they enjoyed the relative stillness of the night. Or early morning. Streak gave a little yip and ran back to his new home, his mind turned to food.

Once inside, Mason let the girls undress him, then eased himself onto the bed with an exhausted mind still cycling through a dozen scenes of violence. Rosa joined them in the big bed this time, cuddling up next to him quietly as Haley did the same, Becky and Naya already asleep on the other side of the huge bed.

He felt all their warmth, their softness, such a contrast from the other part of his life— the inevitable violence of the great game. He considered stripping off the girls' pajamas and turning the night into something else, but he was tired, and enjoying his time just touching Rosa without sex. He lay there with his girls in his arms, and in his sight, eventually closing his eyes.

Then he woke in a dark, damp cave.

"God damnit." He looked up at the crone by her cauldron, pain shooting through his legs as he lay on the hard, cold stone. "Why do my legs always need to be broken?"

The crone smiled with her toothless mouth.

"I think it does us both good to remember what you are, young buck."

She stirred and stared, stared and stirred, the sound of her stick tapping against the cauldron.

"And what's that?" Mason asked, getting himself to a sit with a groan.

"A flawed and wounded warrior, seeking wisdom."

"I was seeking sleep."

The crone cackled.

"You think your dream is my doing? They are called druid dreams for a reason, young buck. They are yours to invoke. You called, consciously or not. I merely answered."

Mason found this somewhat disturbing, because it didn't ring nearly as false as he'd hoped.

"And why would I do that?" he asked. The crone or nature god shrugged.

"For answers. To feel less alone. How should I know? Come, little immortal. Look into the waters."

Mason groaned and stood, his legs healing already.

"I don't need answers. My path is pretty clear. I have to fight men. To beat them. To dominate them."

"Ah, yes," the crone rolled her rheumy eyes. "Go and preen and rut in your little spawning ground. But what will you do next, mighty ranger?"

Mason frowned because he had absolutely no idea. And he knew then why he'd apparently 'called' to Gaia. Because while he had plenty of things that were worth doing, he wasn't sure what to focus on. He walked forward and looked into the cauldron, seeing a dark, murky soup until he stared long enough to see something moving beneath the water.

"Is that..." it looked vaguely like a snake swimming back and forth, back and forth, making waves with its disturbing little coils. Then it broke the surface, hissing as it lunged at Mason and opened its jaw.

He pulled back with primal fear, then found himself at the edge of a forest, looking out towards mountains as flakes of snow fell all around him. The crone stepped up beside him, leaning on her cauldron stick.

"There's much that's been forgotten. You haven't finished seeking the blessing of the druids of old, young buck. You must walk the paths of the ancient gods."

"How?" he said, his heart still pounding.

"You've already begun. Go to the places that frighten you. The highest mountains. The deepest pits. Look."

Mason saw flying snakes in the mist above the mountains. He shivered and saw the clouds ignite with sparks, and he knew they were dragons like 'The Destroyer' he'd fought for the nexus stone.

"Great," he said with a sigh. "I can't wait."

The crone cracked her toothless smile, then reached out and grasped Mason's hand. The sky shattered with thunder and lightning, the world transforming and closing in until Mason fell to his hands and knees. Everything was black as pitch, the sound of his own heart thumping so loud he thought he could hear an echo.

He was under the earth.

Much that once walked the surface fled to escape the doom, Gaia's voice whispered in Mason's ear. Time and darkness have warped them. All manner of gods and spirits have twisted them beyond my sight. But you must seek them out. There are secrets buried in the deepest places of this world.

Mason shivered, not sure if he'd rather fight giant snakes or go into some massive underground. But he was reminded he needed to spend time with Violet, that he could maybe adapt himself to handle it. The world vanished again as he blinked, and he was standing in the crone's cave staring into her cauldron.

She smiled, and the young, disheveled, wild-looking woman flickered with the image of the old.

"The horned god too will have his...distractions for you, druid. Do what you will. But know that I am watching. Your actions with the children of the fey have pleased me. And you will give the elves new life soon. For this, you will earn more of my favor."

She held up a hand, and Mason felt like he stepped into a gale force wind. He flew back and skipped across the surface like a human stone, grunting as he tried to steady himself, then plunged into the water.

[Objective gained: Impregnate elves of Sharisse. Gain House, Patron, or Lineage rewards based on success. Reward determined in: one year.]

[Objective gained: Explore the entire Western Continent. Reward: Patron and Wyrdwalking rewards based on actions.]

[Objective modified: Obtain a blessing from every ancient druid on the Western continent. Reward: improvement to all individual druid blessings.]

Mason woke to the first few flickers of sunlight coming through the skylights of his room. Haley and Naya had both found him and cuddled into his sides in the night, Becky still sound asleep and twisted up with a pillow a little ways away. He smiled and touched them all, taking a moment to enjoy the calm.

Today was the tournament. Though he wasn't sure exactly how and when it would 'start', and what would happen next. He was glad he could take players and civilians, and intended to take both Haley and Rosa, and of course Becky because she was a player. He doubted he could bring Naya, but who the hell knew.

As he rose up and summoned Eve's Vestments, stepping out of the room to start his day, he supposed he was going to find out soon enough.