MBGSP Chpt 171-173

Hey everyone! Here's the advanced chapters for this week! We are only five weeks from the conclusion of the story.

In other news, as one story winds down, so does another begin. Later this week I'll be posting the first few preview chapters for DOR - Department of Otherworld Rescue, which will be my next web serial. If you like the idea of a shady government organization sending military teams through portals to other worlds to mix it up with monsters, demons, warriors, and wizards, this one will be for you. I've already got almost 30 chapters of it written, so we'll be able to hit the ground running with a solid backlog and Patreon subs will once again have plenty of advanced chapters to look forward to ahead of Royal Road releases. Here is the blurb:

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Each year, teens around the country are spirited away to other worlds and made to fight on their behalf. It is this department’s position that these events are tantamount to human trafficking and child-soldiering. We’ve been empowered to make all efforts toward their recovery.

Before you ink your name on that dotted line, let me tell you these kids ain’t being called to the Bahamas. These are desperate, dying worlds. You have to be at the end of your rope to put all your faith in little Johnny with a sword and an F in algebra.

The danger is real. That’s why the casualty rate is there in bold print. But when you play in their sandbox you play by their rules. Rules that could let you peel open a tank like a can of C-rations if you play your cards right.

Figured as much. Welcome to the team.

Don’t forget to fill out the next of kin info.

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With that out of the way, please enjoy this week's MBGSP chapters!

Chapter 171 - A Deep Impact

<Your tribe has increased to 6580 members>

This time, the procession was much larger. Banners and trumpets preceded the prince, along with a column of armored knights—humans, this time. A few dragons, as well. I spotted the black bulk of Gyrfax, along with two smaller striped breeds with blue and white skin. Behind, I could see our boosters spread across the backs of several wagons chained together. Several robed wizards walked alongside what must have been the prince atop Rava’s version of a horse—remarkably similar to ours, except that it sported four eyes instead of only two, and its feet terminated in four stubby toes rather than hooves.

The prince himself was young, mid 20’s maybe, with a neatly trimmed beard and a sword at his hip. I was surprised to see he was only level 27. Not the most powerful human I’d encountered, I suppose you don’t gain a lot of levels doing statecraft. Conversely, his inner circle were all at least level 35, and two of the mages were over level 40. I glanced back at  the bivouac, for the recoilless rifles trained on our position. While we’d reinforced, and I now had 30 members of my secretive service here with plate carriers made from null devil hide, the majority of our number still waited behind the meager wooden walls.

Attendants worked to erect the pavilion again, and the prince took his place beneath it. I took a deep breath and left the majority of my troops behind, taking only a small retinue. The prince was the largest obstacle still in my way. If I was going to leverage Habberport’s deep water docks in order to get materials from the Midnight Queen, and continue the rocket program without a major war, this might be the most important conversation I’d have in my entire time on Rava.

History wasn’t on my side. Habbe had a long, bloody story with goblins. A goblin king had ravaged their country in times past and they hunted goblins for medicinal components. Looking up at the calm, stoic face of the prince I could still sense some energy, some sense of anticipation brewing beneath the surface. He rubbed his fingers together and then turned to his retinue.

“Leave us,” he commanded. His voice was steady and commanding, the voice of someone used to giving orders. “I will speak with this creature alone.”

“But, your grace…” said one of his attendants—the low-level lord who had treated with me the previous day, I realized. The prince held up a hand that silenced him. “I have spoken,” he said.

Reluctantly, his retinue retreated to a moderate distance, ready to come back in if I made any errant move. The prince glared down at me, easing forward until his elbow rested on his knee. The stare he gave me was so direct, so intense, that all my hopes for the success of these negotiations began to drain away.

“They tell me your name is Apollo,” he said.

“That’s right,” I said.

The prince leaned in even closer.

“Alright, Apollo. Before the bug people get here, level with me: you’re from Earth, right?”

I stopped, mouth falling open. “I, uh… yeah, I am.”

The prince sat straight up and snapped his fingers, grunting.

“Mmm, I knew it, bro! As soon as I heard your name I freaking knew it! And then those rockets started launching, and those weird jets.” he leaned back and put his palms together. “Thank you Baby Jesus, I knew I couldn’t be the only regular person. When did you get here?”

I ran a hand over my head. The Prince of Habbe, the boogeyman of my months on Rava, the scion son of a house notorious for their hatred of goblins, had just referred to me, the goblin king, as a regular person. “A few months ago. I’m an astronaut for NuEarth. My rocket blew up and I woke up here. My real name is Chris, by the way.”

“Sick, dude! I’m Ben. I crashed my truck, like, years ago, coming home from a UCF Mixer. I had a couple too many, and I’m pretty sure I went through the windshield. Seatbelts, am I right? Should have worn one. Anyway, I woke up in a big-ass bed with servants and stuff. I figured I was someone important, so I told them I had lost my entire memory, and they actually bought it! They sent me out here to ‘recover’ while they taught me how to be a prince.”

UCF. University of Central Florida. Ben was a college student. System, what is it with you and kidnapping people from Florida?

“You sent hunters after me.”

“Bro, I was trying to talk to you! But these people, they’re like, super weird about goblins. Like fixated. I guess there was like a war or something. And then there’s the alchemists and stuff. You know what those little Keebler-looking gooners do with goblin ears? It’s gross, dude.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely something we need to talk about,” I said.

The prince, or rather, Ben, continued. “But this place has like, levels and skills and stuff, so we’re in like, a game or a computer program, right? Like that really old movie with the robots and the dudes in the weird clothes?”

“Tron?” I asked.

“Nah, The Matrix,” he said.

Putting aside our differences in what constituted a really old movie, I nodded along. “I thought that at first too,” I said. “But no. Rava is real—though whether it’s another planet or a whole other universe is up for debate. I only recently learned from the Midnighters what’s really going on here and what the System is.”

“So what is it?” he asked, eyes earnest.

The Midnight Queen had said the prince would never understand, that humans would never understand. Well, Ben wasn’t a human like the local stock. He’d seen sci-fi movies. He knew about technology. I decided to lay it all out for him.

“Alright, so there’s basically a psychic celestial space dragon asleep in the moon. It was supposed to wake up a few hundred years ago and fly off, but these alien parasites stumbled by the planet and they’re keeping it asleep while they feed off its psychic energy. But it’s getting so big it’s starting to break the moon apart, and if it does that, it’s probably going to destabilize Rava’s orbit, but huge chunks of it are going to destroy all life on the surface first. So this space dragon figured out a workaround to the parasites, and that’s the System that manages levels and skills. It worked with the Midnighters to summon people from Earth hoping we could reach it and wake the thing up before it destroyed both planets.”

I took a deep breath.

Ben leaned back. “My guy… That literally makes so much sense. It’s like that sweet movie where they gotta go to space with the fat dude and save the world.”

“Armageddon?” I asked.

“Nah, Moonfall,” he said.

There was some commotion as a buzzing sound mounted in the air. I spotted one of the Midnighter priestess palanquins being hauled between a handful of the flying beetles, and a handful of elite guards, beside. The human retinue was wary as they landed, but my goblins—despite having just fought Midnighters the previous day—were still used to having them at Canaveral and mobbed the delegation as soon as it landed with excited squawks and greetings and offerings of snacks.

This palanquin was massive, and I spotted the elite general who had held us on the deck of the flagship. I swallowed. The Midnight Queen had come herself. Her servants erected what I can only describe as a portable tent, and yes I know all tents are portable. But most are at least staked down. This one was a black fabric canopy that a dozen servants moved across the grass while their mistress walked within. I was surprised that she’d come herself, but then she was probably powerful enough to tear her own way out of the area if negotiations went sour. She still had a level too high for me to see, and I wondered if Ben had set his menus up to display levels the way  I had.

Even through the thick fabric, I could see the silhouette of the queen shifting within. The attendants unpinned and folded down a panel of fabric, leaving a thinner screen that would allow communication.

“King Apollo, Prince Habbe. I have consulted the stars, and I—”

“Hold up a minute,” said Ben, standing and raising his hand toward the panel. “Chris, er Apollo,” he winked at me, “already filled me in on the thing with the moon and the space dragon and what’s at stake. Whatever you guys need, I’m in. I don’t know anything about space stuff, but like, if I can make something happen I’ll make it happen. Let’s do this thing.”

The queen went silent.

“Just like that?” I asked.

“Hey man, I like this place,” he said. “I was a medieval studies major. This is kind of my jam, if I’m being honest. I don’t know about orcs and elves and magic and all that other weird stuff, but this planet is pretty cool and I got to ride a dragon. I don’t want to see it get destroyed. Especially not while I’m on it.”

I turned to the tent of the Midnight Queen, grinning. “Humans, right? So impossible to work with.”

Chapter 172 - Trials and Errors

“It’s  actually kind of wild. Like, why am I even here?” said Ben. He’d insisted I stay and hang out, for at least a bit. Apparently after four years he was extremely starved for conversation with anyone from his home planet. “It makes sense for you. You’re, like, an astronaut and you can build rockets and stuff. All the technology I know about was 10th to 14th century. What am I supposed to do, make them a water-wheel? They already have ‘em! I don’t know how to build an airplane or a refrigerator or make gunpowder.

“So you’ve spent those years basically playing what you thought was a game?” I asked, scooping another load of ice into Ben’s drink. If his retinue was scandalized that he was taking ice from a goblin, they were circumspect enough to not protest, at least.

“I mean, I was pretty good at it. It’s not like I was good at much back home. You were an astronaut, I was a college student.”

“Well, I wasn’t an astronaut yet. At least, not when you got here.”

“I’m just glad I’m not the only one anymore.”

I grinned. “Actually, you haven’t been for a while. There’s another goblin king down south who’s actually a kid from Florida. Got here about the same time you did, if my math is right. Goes by the name Ringo.”

“What? No way! Like that cartoon lizard movie?”

“I don’t get that reference,” I said.

“Yo, what’s with this space dragon and people from Florida?”

I laughed. “No idea! You know, it’s kind of funny, but I visited Cape Canaveral around that time. I actually got into a pretty bad accident on the way…”

I stopped, pit growing in my stomach. I’d gotten into an accident on my motorcycle when some idiot didn’t stop at a red light and smashed into the car ahead of him, which pushed that car into the intersection, where I’d hit it full-on. I’d lost my legs in that crash. Spent years rehabilitating from it and learning to walk again and then pushing further to run and start flying again and applying to the corporate space programs. But it had set me back years filled with mind-numbing pain and physical therapy.

I’d woken up in the hospital. I never learned who the other people involved in the crash were. But there were fatalities…

“Bro, you look like you saw a ghost, what’s up?”

System, Did you accidentally pull Ringo and Ben to Rava the day I crashed my motorcycle?

I didn’t expect System to actually answer me, so I was surprised when it responded.

<It was supposed to be you.>

I stood so fast two or three of the human soldiers drew their swords.

“I have to go,” I said.

“Are you sure?” asked Ben. He sounded disappointed. “You gotta come back soon, my guy. I’m gonna go crazy if I have to go another few years without talking to someone from my millennium. Maybe bring that Ringo kid, I’d love to meet him.”

“Maybe,” I said. Armstrong had keyed in on my distress and was starting to position the goblins in case of an emergency. I signaled him down but stumbled out from under the shaded pavilion.

“Good luck with the moon,” said Ben. “I’ll keep my guys off your back while you get it fixed.”

“I appreciate that,” I said. I started to raise my hand for him to shake but stopped halfway. You ruined my life.

Or did I ruin his?

Was it his fault? How much of it was his drunk driving, and how much of it was System nudging physics? How much of it was the Midnighters warping System’s influence so that it could pluck a champion from another world? Did some last-minute swerve on my part turn what was meant to be a fatal motorcycle crash into years of painful rehabilitation? Had my survival necessitated a second attempt that cost even more lives?

Ben saw the aborted gesture and smiled, glancing at his retinue. “Yeah, probably smarter not to. You know how these guys are with goblins. Take care, man. I’ll see you around.”

What conditions needed to be met for the stolen Midnighter magic to work? It was clear the person had to die for System to snatch their consciousness across the stars. And the idea that its first attempt lined up with a major motor vehicle accident, and then again on the day of my moon mission was simply too large a coincidence to ignore. The System had killed Ben and Ringo. It had killed Sanders and Davis. It had taken my legs. It had ruined my life. Had it been a conscious decision? Had it been compelled by the Midnight Queen? The queen who would launch a war just to keep a city from possibly interfering? What would the lives of four other-worlders weigh to her against her entire planet?

Where does the blame lie?

<I’m sorry, Chris.>

I left the pavilion. Ben’s retinue tore it down and carted it all back to the city. A few dozen of my goblins were already cutting the boosters into pieces small enough to be carried by helicopters, after which we’d haul it back to Canaveral to be reused.

Dame Redfang watched with me from just outside the bivouac.

“We got the boosters,” I said. “Your ransom is paid.”

“Yes, it is,” she acknowledged. “But it also seems that your words somehow moved the Prince. That there’s to be no war, no further sorties for the knights, and that the Midnight queen is going to dismantle her war fleet and cart it through the streets of Habberport so that you may fly it south.” Redfang shook her head. “Truly, these are strange times. And strange times make for strange bedfellows. I have volunteered to be a liaison to Tribe Apollo for the Prince.”

My mind was still reeling from the revelation that my accident had not been an accident at all, such that I’m sure the surprise of Redfang’s request barely registered on my face.

Who could say whether the actions of the Midnighters were justified? How much say did System have when it came to their magic? It wasn’t even conscious, and maybe magic was some sort of outside influence hacking or reprogramming its dreams. It had bound itself by its own rules in order to slip its influence past the interference of the null devils on Raphina. It’s possible that no party was fully to blame. Surely Ben had been driving his truck after too many drinks, System had caused collateral damage when it targeted me, and the Midnighters had desperately invoked a powerful force they didn’t fully understand.

It didn’t change what I had to do. There was naught but to press on. Raphina awaited, and the only obstacle that remained was a gulf of vacuum and a swarm of magic-devouring super-predators.

Chapter 173 - The Real Treasure

<Your tribe has increased to 10,240 members>

A flurry of activity consumed the following weeks. Resources poured in from the City of Brass in the south, Midnighters sent even more through Habberport in the northwest, and the orcs to the east continued sending refined materials from the null devil and its nymphs. The tribe numbering in the five figures meant we produced enough fuel for a launch every 3-4 days and the transitory station in orbit had grown to such size that you could see it with a simple spyglass.

I’d actually had the System put a cap on new goblins spawning in order to keep us just at attrition replacement numbers instead of having the population balloon out of control. The 30,000 strong goblin pestilence that had swept Habbe had done so because the goblins outgrew their own local resources. I wasn’t about to let the same thing happen here. We had what we needed.

“Hold still, boss,” said Javier, the chief of my clothiers. Rather than airship envelopes, plate carriers, and nets, his crew of needlers were putting the finishing touches on my and Armstrong’s space suits—which I was pretty sure was supposed to happen before we put them on.

I fidgeted with the tight suit, unused to the feeling of clothes against my skin after running around for months in nothing but loose leather wraps and the occasional poncho or plate carrier. Javier checked it again, oddly thorough for a goblin. But then this was his king’s space suit and if it ruptured during an orbital EVA, eventually he would be on the chopping block. It was a combination of materials from all over Lanclova: air-tight null-devil leather that could withstand the vacuum of space, orc rubber gaskets, brass fittings from the Ifrit city, and even heat-resistant dragon scales from the rookery at Habberport—shed, mind you, not taken by force.

It seemed like half the tribe had found their way to Canaveral under the loosest pretext or no pretext at all. The bluff swarmed with a sea of blue and green fur jostling for position and, in many cases, pushing each other off the edge of the bluff in what probably looked from the outside like a very fuzzy waterfall. But it wasn’t just goblins who had turned out.

Dozens of Ifrit hovered above the crowd in coaxial vessels. Orcs of the Flock and Dawn’s light watched from the side of the Midnighter pyramid, and even a squad of Dame Redfang’s landed dragons perched at the pinnacle, eager to see this artifice that could fly higher and swifter than a dragon with no magic at all. The prep area was being kept mostly clear, aside from the VIP section that had been cordoned off for my guests of honor. Once fitted, I waddled my way over to them.

“I don’t know if I’ll see any of you again,” I said. “Even if I succeed up there, I don’t know what will happen.”

Dame Redfang snorted a puff of smoke. “There are yet trees and ore and sand upon Raphina, yes? I’ve watched this tribe only a short time, but I’ve no doubt that given two sticks, a sharp stone, and a vein of copper that you could find your way back before the solstice festival.”

I reached out and put a hand on the scales of her foreleg. She huffed and looked away, tail thrashing.

Sourtooth and Lura waited next to her. Lura grinned down at me. “If return was your intent, the Stampede marches on, little brother king. Find us by the trail of dust in the east. But sights of yours are set on besting my glory and more, these Midnighters tell me. Beliabog, brother mine. You go to trample not just the ground beneath your feet, but the stars, as well.”

I laughed. “Lura, I owe you so much and more. Of the time I’ve spent on Rava, the time I spent with the orcs on the badlands is what I’ll look back on as the best of it.”

Sourtooth stood next to her, scowling down at me. He spat on the ground. “Not one, I, for lengthy partings. Get ye on your way, little brother.”

The quiver in his voice betrayed his true feelings. I tapped the side of his prosthetic. “Take good care of this. If it needs replaced, my igni will see to it.”

Sourtooth’s scowl deepened further, “Aye, little brother. Be your feet upon this world or any other, count yourself a part of the Flock, through and true.”

Next to him, stood a person my equal in stature. Ringo stood, still unsteady on his own prosthetics. No longer needing to be carried by boglins, he was learning to stand on his own. George stood next to him, slightly smaller and eying me warily.

“I wish I could go with you,” he said, sniffing. “I don’t want you to go.”

“A slight betrayal,” muttered George. He glanced up between me and Ringo. “But we ought forgive it, this time,” he said.

Ringo nodded, and then surged forward to wrap me in a hug.

“You’re not alone, anymore,” I said. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re safe. Look after the boglins. They still rely on you.”

I managed to pry Ringo off and turned to my minister of trade. Rufus looked down at me, openly dabbing at his eyes with a cloth.

“Rufus, you were the first friend I made on this world. If not for you, I doubt I would have lasted a month—let alone be heading for the moon in less than a year. Take care of yourself.”

“You believe you’re speaking the truth,” he said. “But I doubt much on this planet could have stopped you, Apollo. The Great Spirit chose its champion well.”

I was the one to pull the half-badger down into a fierce bear hug. He was half again as tall as me and covered in a coarse pelt. When he squeezed me back, I thought my head might pop off.

“I shall miss you, King Apollo. Rava will be worse for your absence. But you go to be clad not in sky or earth, but in stars.”

I pulled back. “You have it?”

Rufus produced his journal and nodded. “Knowledge of your world’s medicines and artifice—food preservatives, construction, mathematics, automation, and electricity. To be shared and spread for the betterment of all those bereft of magic. This learning will be your legacy upon Rava.”

“Good,” I said. I hesitated. “You know, there’s still time to get you fitted for a space suit if you want to come with us.”

What little skin showed through the badger fur blanched. “I prefer to keep the stars in the sky where they belong, o’ king.”

I laughed. “That’s what I figured.”

“Boss, boss!”

I looked over, where Eileen was running up to me. “Our launch window, boss!”

I nodded and took one last look at my friends—from my first days on Rava to those I’d known bare weeks. “I guess it’s time to go, I said.” I raised my hand in salute and took my helmet from Javier. “You’ll know I succeeded if the moon doesn’t blow up.”

Armstrong and I followed Eileen from the prep area to the launch pit where, despite all insistences, the igni were still welding concurrently with the fuelers shoveling goblin scat infused with bomb-fruit juice into the boosters. I shook my head. Goblins would ever be goblins. And I never would have gotten this far without them.

Chuck waited for us on the gantry lift next to Buzz, Sally, Chuck, and Neil. Armstrong, Sally, and I joined them. My OG taskmaster crew, together and looking almost like proper astronauts. I’m sure I was grinning so wide that it was a miracle the top of my head stayed on.

“Alright, guys. Everything we’ve worked for, every day, since the beginning. It’s all been for this. For today. And I can’t begin to say how proud I am of my crack team, and every one of your teams for making it possible. It’s been nothing short of miracle after miracle.” I looked at each of their faces in turn. “Think you can help me to make one more?”

Rather than answering, my taskmasters, as one, surged forward, cackling and cheering, and hoisted me up into the air for all the bluff to see. The lift started to raise as well, and the thousands of goblins on Canaveral went nuts. Cheers and squawks and a roiling sea of blue, furry goblins jumping with excitement and crowding each other so tightly that more continued to spill over the edges of the bluff every second, and the lifts bringing them back up were overloaded.

It was time.

I’m coming, System. Ad Luna.