Metal Mage 13 by Eric Vall
English | 2020 | Fantasy | ePUB | 3.8 MB
No bio is available for the author.
The war has officially begun, and it’s time for Mason to make his first offensive strike.
But first he’s gotta round up his allies, overcome centuries of racial prejudices, and make sure the elves, ogres, dwarves, and mages don’t kill each other before it’s time to move out.
Good thing he’s got his deadly, terrifying women to keep things in check.
“Drink!” Grot ordered again, and I nodded before I took a long, deep swig of Rosh from a stone mug larger than my head.
The ogre ruler did the same as he scratched his sweaty belly rolls, and while I did my best to match the twelve-foot-tall ogre, his four scantily clad ogre women began peeling the charred meat off his kill for him with their teeth. I tried to avoid having to look at their huge bikini-clad asses while they hunkered down on all fours beside the fire, but it was difficult to manage without Grot noticing how put off I was by the sight. So, I ended up focusing twice as hard on my mug like it was the only thing in the world to me, but still, the ogre ruler insisted I hadn’t had enough to drink yet.
Three of my own women were patiently seated in proper ogre formation behind me while I obeyed Grot’s command once more, and from the far back corner of the feasting caves, I couldn’t make out the entrance through the hoard of ogres who followed us here. Returning to Jagruel was like coming back to a frat house after being gone for a month, and the ogres chanted my name all the way through the lair and along the lava falls of the cliffs, too. They grabbed up fresh kill as we went in preparation for a feast I didn’t expect to join in on, and while I was flattered by the warm reception, I was mostly thinking of my battle dragon the whole time.
I told Deya we would only be gone for fifteen minutes when we left her in the forest beyond the lair, but I hadn’t expected Grot to insist I spend the last half hour drinking before he’d let me get to our discussion. Deya was probably content hunting in her dragon form for now, but I was still antsy to get back to my pregnant lover, and the number of things I had to accomplish before nightfall made the situation that much more ridiculous.
Still, when an ogre as huge and short-tempered as Grot orders a man to drink, he drinks. Even when the fate of the realm relies on him gathering his allies in time to dismantle his enemy’s colossal plan to unleash a possessed army on the world.
A feat which, it turned out, was more intimidating than I first thought.
After months of scrambling to defend any regions I could from the Master’s forces, I finally found an opening to form an offensive attack, but now, I’d come down from that initial high. Ever since I realized I didn’t know how much time I had to get everything organized, my blood pressure seemed to be stuck in an elevated state, and I could have sworn my left eye twitched a couple times on the way to Jagruel.
This all seemed like an understandable reaction, though, because I didn’t have time to verify my knee-jerk instinct about the underground tunnels yet, so I couldn’t even be sure my epic plan was possible.
All I knew was the Master’s fortress had looked deserted for a few days now, and attacks in the southwest were ramping up to draw my troops away from the foothills. This meant the underground tunnels branching out from the Master’s headquarters could already be packed by the hundreds with possessed creatures, and my guess was wherever those tunnels ended marked a portal to the surface.