The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 41: Wayfinder

Mason woke up coughing. Smoke filled his vision, covering everything except the ground and especially the small dip into his stream. Pain came second, coursing from his gut up and down his body. But at least he woke up.

He remembered the assassin and the dagger in his side, and checked his wound. The flesh was already mostly healed. He moved his limbs and shifted his body, relieved to find he still had considerable strength. He felt hot, and in general pain, and expected he was fighting infection. Without his power of regeneration, he knew, he’d be a dead man. One life down, he thought, how many left?

He wasn’t exactly sure where he was. The smoke kept him from inspecting the trees except at the bottom, and he couldn’t even tell which direction was which. Or indeed how much time had passed. But he had another group of raiders to kill, and he needed to move. The corpses, he realized, I should check the corpses first.

With a long, suffering groan he forced himself to his feet. Smoke could kill you too so he knew he had to be careful. Still, he walked out into the mixture of charred and slightly burnt trees, head down and shirt over his mouth while he looked for what he thought was the places he’d killed the raiders. One by one he found them. But with the exception of a few pieces of metal, everything they’d had was completely burnt away. He clutched his bow, and thanked God he’d had the presence of mind not to leave it.

Now what? He wondered, still trying to figure out which direction to move. Then he noticed his profile was blinking and pulled it up.

[You’ve earned enough experience to reach level 12! Please choose a power or one will be selected for you.]

Oh shit. He flipped to the power list and hoped he wasn’t already out of time. The list was considerably longer. The now familiar ranger powers were all available, but he quickly realized the druid had a much larger range of options. Ranger Mark was still tempting, but also probably unnecessary. It seemed like it made a target vulnerable, but he hadn’t encountered anything he couldn’t kill. The druid powers mostly seemed like ‘spells’, used anywhere from healing others to covering an enemy in swarming insects. Nearly all of them sounded kind of awesome, but Mason had very limited mana to actually use them. It was likely better to wait. He also realized he had a new ranger option: Wayfinder.

[Wayfinder: never ask for directions again.]

The typically vague description remained annoying, but it sounded very much like a mapmaking power. If it was even remotely close to as useful and powerful as his trap function, he knew he had no choice but to take it, either now or later. He chose now.

He blinked, then the world changed. In the corner of his vision he saw an expandable toggle that could instantly cover his entire view. It was a God damn map.

Not only did it show North, East, South and West—it showed which way he was facing. He turned his body just to test it, and the damn map adjusted like a GPS. He stood there just staring in sheer bloody amazement for longer than he should have, but there was little time to admire his newfound ability. He needed to get the hell out of the smoke, and find the second group of raiders.

Nassau was already shown on his map, and with a grin he started walking to test the pain. He felt vaguely ill, but healthy enough to move quickly, and soon broke into a jog. As he moved away from the impromptu battlefield, he saw his map had actually marked it with a small flag as a ‘point of interest’. Apparently it would expand and grow based on where he’d been, remembering things for him. He realized he was able to move it, too, and began looking around to see the map also knew where he’d been thus far. It showed the Great Trees, the coast, and a variety of other smaller details.

Focus, he chastised himself. New shiny toys weren’t relevant. He knew where Nassau was, and that was good enough. The town would certainly be on high alert. But what would they do? Send out more people? Not likely that they had much left, unless they sent out every player they had. He wasn’t actually sure how many that was, but he knew it had to be a small number.

So, what to do? Run around chasing the other raiders, maybe uselessly? And for how long? A day, two? Or else he could go back to Nassau at top speed and see what kind of damage he could do. After a few moments, the decision seemed fairly simple. It was time to attack Nassau.

Jogging was painful but he pushed himself harder. He’d heal as he went, and if he couldn’t fight the infection with regeneration it meant he’d get worse and die so he had little time. When he got out of the smoke he felt somewhat better, increasing nearly back to full speed as he whipped through the trees, feeling as usual like the plants themselves were clearing him a path. Hours passed. He was working hard now and couldn’t even tell if the fever was with him, but it didn’t matter. He felt strong and healthy enough to fight. It would have to do.

The walls of Nassau came into sight, and Mason hardly remembered the run. It was late afternoon now, and the forest was cool and quiet in the last hour before sunset. He inspected the walls, circling Nassau with no sign of patrols or guards or of Kiaan. The scout had told him he’d trigger some kind of alarm if he climbed the walls. But an alarm only helped if you had the strength to enforce it.

If they did, Mason decided he could kill and run. With a last deep breath and the decision made, he ran at the wall and leapt the entire length, gripping the top and pulling himself up. It was time to end this.

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