《Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story》


 Chapter 1 - Floor 0: Part 1 - Entering the Tower of Avarice

    <u>Chapter 1</u> ¨C Floor 0: Part 1


    He stood in front of the strange tower made of black stone and dark, tinted windows that allowed nothing of the interior to be seen. Despite the midday sun hanging overhead in a clear, blue sky, the environment seemed darker than it should, as if a cloud were blocking the light.


    Mathew¡¯s awareness of the crowd around him faded away as the door of the tower seemed to call for him to enter. He knew that all he had to do was give it a gentle tug to open them, and everything he had ever wanted was on the other side.


    It contained promises of immortality, treasures, and more powerful and strange items than he could ever imagine. All he had to do was enter, and they could be his.


    The temptation he felt was shared by others, millions of curious souls all eager for what was promised. Even now, he could see them pushing and shoving their way forward, seeking to be the first to seize the door and gain entrance.


    He craned his neck backward, following the tower to its very top. One hundred stories tall, made of the same black material seamlessly constructed by no mortal hands. It was monolithic in its appearance, dominating the space around it.


    The Tower of Avarice.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°I just thought there would be something more to life.¡± A young man said from his comfortable chair.


    The young man sat in a large office, tastefully decorated with light cream-coloured walls and gold accents. A sound machine played the gentle noise of a babbling brook, and he could see Central Park from the large windows. With his black business suit, white shirt and matching black tie, he fit in with the elegant, sophisticated air of the therapist''s office.


    Handsome, with black hair just long enough to brush the tips of his ears and swept back from his face, he could pass for a model or Hollywood actor. Slim and athletic, he adjusted the strap of his Rolex watch before looking up at the woman seated across from him.


    A middle-aged woman, the doctor was highly recommended for her insights and, most importantly, her discretion.


    ¡°Such as?¡± She asked, writing a note on the pad across her lap.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Something. It''s just all so¡­. monotonous. Waking up, going to work, exercising and going home to do it all again. There¡¯s no¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± He said, waving his hand vaguely as if he were trying to grab the word he was looking for.


    ¡°Goal? Purpose in it all? Mathew, people need to find their purpose in life. Sometimes it¡¯s a career goal or possibly family.¡± She replied, and Mathew scoffed at the statement.


    ¡°That¡¯s not exactly what I¡¯m saying. But you¡¯re right. It¡¯s not a goal that I¡¯m looking for, it''s more like the satisfaction of accomplishing something difficult. Unachievable or unattainable.¡± Mathew thought for a moment, tapping his finger against the leather arm of his chair before continuing.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you an example. I enjoyed my time in school, not because I¡¯m sociable or I enjoyed learning, but because it gave me the opportunity to be the best. Top of my class, top of the school! Harvard was the same, Summa Cum Laude, captain of the rowing team.


    ¡°While others were having fun and making connections, I strove to be the best, all for that single moment of accomplishment, that feeling that would come over me when I stood at the pinnacle.¡± Mathew explained, thinking back to the memory of his achievements.


    ¡°And you miss that now? You¡¯re still accomplishing things, Mathew. Youngest Partner in your firm¡¯s history, doesn¡¯t that give you the same feeling?¡± She asked, and Mathew sighed.


    ¡°Not especially. It¡¯s as if all of my past achievements are making the future easier. And it¡¯s my father¡¯s firm, not exactly hard to succeed there.¡± Mathew grumbled, wiping away a non-existent piece of lint from his suit jacket.


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    ¡°Perhaps a hobby?¡±


    ¡°Maybe. I¡¯ve tried a few different things.¡± Mathew looked away toward the window. He saw the light sparkling off Conservatory Water, the pond in the center of Central Park. The view from the office was incredible.


    ¡°What does Emily say about these feelings you¡¯re having?¡± She asked, and Mathew frowned at the question. For a moment, he was silent. He rarely didn¡¯t have an immediate response to a question.


    ¡°We¡¯re not together anymore.¡± Mathew muttered, and he felt a sense of loss at the statement. It was still new, and he hadn¡¯t yet come to grips with it. Some part of him thought it wasn¡¯t real, that she would return. But it had been months, and she was still gone.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mathew. I know that you were together for quite a long time. Do you mind if I ask what happened?¡± She asked, and Mathew let out a deep breath. He would need to confront the reality sometime; it might as well be now.


    ¡°Her mother is ill. Cancer. She wanted to go back to Connecticut to take care of her, and she didn¡¯t want me to feel obligated to go with her. I wouldn¡¯t do well in a small town.¡± Mathew confessed.


    He was uncomfortable with the admission. He thought it made him seem weak to be unwilling to follow Emily to her parent¡¯s home and petty that he would have chosen to stay in Manhattan even if she had given him a choice.


    ¡°Hartford is hardly a small town, Mathew. Are you sure there isn¡¯t something else about the decision to let her go that you aren¡¯t telling me?¡± His therapist asked. He was silent for a moment and was finally saved by an alarm on his phone telling him that their appointment was over.


    Standing and thanking the Doctor, he promised they would explore it further during his next appointment before he was finally free once again. It wasn¡¯t until he was out of the elevator and walking down the street that he sighed in relief.


    He needed a drink.


    Bundling his coat around him against the chill October air, he turned the corner and ducked into a nearby bar just as the first snowflakes began to drift slowly toward the ground. Not even noticing the small pub''s name, he sat on a stool by the bar, just in from the door enough that he wouldn¡¯t feel the cold when it opened.


    ¡°What¡¯ll it be?¡± The bartender asked. Mathew was so in his own thoughts that he never observed whether it was a man or a woman.


    ¡°Just a beer, thanks.¡± Mathew ordered. Picking up his phone, he ignored the sound of the football game on the television as the bartender set the drink on the bar top in front of him. The pub was only half full, and he let the noise wash over him as he checked his text messages.


    One was from his father, a simple reminder about an upcoming meeting. A couple from his mother asked for an update on his therapy session, to which he tapped a quick reply, telling her that it went well and that they were making progress.


    He wasn¡¯t sure if it was a lie or the truth; he didn¡¯t feel like they were, but the Doctor had told him he was getting better at opening up to her, so maybe it was the truth.


    Finally, an unread message from Emily had sat in his message app since last week. From the summary, he had seen a simple ¡®How are you doing?¡¯ that he didn¡¯t open for fear that she would see the read receipt and know that he had read it.


    How was he doing? He honestly didn¡¯t know. He felt stagnant, like the world was moving past him while he sat in one place, motionless. Maybe he should try to find a hobby or something new to divert his attention. He wanted something unfamiliar, to succeed at something difficult.


    As he sat, nursing his beer and thinking about what he would like to do with his free time that could be entertaining and rewarding, the television screen in front of him suddenly switched from a football game to a ¡®Breaking News¡¯ report.


    The interruption set off a riot of boos and shouts of anger, causing Mathew to miss the beginning of the report, but it quickly settled as a feeling of confusion and disbelief filled the room.


    ¡°- Not a hoax or a prank. The NYPD have cordoned off Central Park, and residents are urged not to interfere with barricades. We are awaiting confirmation from the White House, but we know that this seems to be a global event.¡± A news anchor appeared on the screen.


    He looked confused and slightly panicked, something that Mathew would never expect from a professional news broadcast.


    ¡°If you¡¯re just joining us, tower buildings have suddenly appeared in major cities across the globe, all in inexplicable locations. We go now to a live image of Central Park, where our Channel 7 news helicopter is reporting.¡±


    The image shifted to show the city. The New York skyline, iconic and easily recognizable to Mathew, was broken by a large, black stone tower that dominated the entirety of the park. It looked as if someone had plucked a skyscraper with vaguely gothic architecture and placed it in the middle of Manhattan¡¯s Central Park.


    ¡°Is this some kind of joke!?¡± Someone in the bar shouted, and Mathew agreed.


    Curious, he stood up from his seat and walked over to the large, ground-floor windows. Central Park would be blocked from where he was by buildings, but if this tower was as large as the news report showed, then he should be able to see the top.


    Not expecting much and already feeling foolish for falling for a childish prank, Mathew tilted his head back and stared east.


    He could see the Tower in the distance.

 Chapter 2 - Floor 0: Part 2 - Entering the Tower of Avarice

    <u>Chapter 2</u> ¨C Floor 0: Part 2


    ¡®That¡¯s not possible.¡¯ Mathew thought as the black tower rose above the buildings blocking his sight of Central Park. It caught the failing October light on its dark, tinted windows.


    Aside from his years at Harvard, he had lived in New York City his entire life, and he knew its features and streets like the back of his hand. There had never been a high-rise building in that spot. It would need to have been constructed in Central Park, something that would never be allowed.


    ¡°It¡¯s a prank. Some hologram or something.¡± Another patron muttered beside him, having the same idea to look for the tower.


    Mathew wasn¡¯t as sure. It certainly looked real. A hologram of a musician on a smokey stage in the distance is one thing. This is an entire building in the middle of the most densely populated city in the United States, sprouting out of nowhere.


    He remembered looking at the skyline while at his therapist¡¯s office only half an hour ago. That black tower hadn¡¯t been there. Turning back to the news broadcast, the screen was beginning to show other similar structures in other cities around the world.


    Los Angeles had one rising in front of Griffth¡¯s Observatory, the tower edging close to the building. It could be seen anywhere in the city, and helicopters circled it. He could see that the LAPD were still in the process of placing barricades around it.


    The image shifted to Chicago. Mathew could recognize it by Millenium Park and its iconic silver ¡®Bean¡¯ art installation. The tower rose behind the statue, rising so far that it met the clouds above the city.


    Rain beat against its windows, giving Mathew the impression that it had a ¡®physical¡¯ presence. It wasn¡¯t a hologram or trick of the light.


    Vancouver, Toronto and Edmonton, it seemed the Towers had appeared in Canada, as well as Mexico City and other places in North America.


    Mathew watched with fascination as the news report showed towers in Europe, Africa, Asia and Australia. One had even been spotted in Iceland, of all places, in Reykjavik. The tower there loomed over everything, a hundred stories tall. No other structure in the country could come close compared to its height.


    Every tower appeared the same, rising nearly fifteen hundred feet into the sky. Made of black stone with dark, tinted office windows that ringed every floor, they had a slightly gothic architecture, giving Mathew an ominous feeling about them.


    Each lacked a door. It was something Mathew had noticed as he stared at the television. There was no ¡®front¡¯ of the building or rear. No pathways led to its entrance, nor was there any visible entryway. To Mathew, it seemed more like a windowed monolith than an office building, a piece of art rather than a structure with a purpose.


    After an hour of watching the screen, a spokesperson for the White House appeared to discuss the event. It wasn¡¯t a hoax; the buildings were real, and they had no idea what their purpose was or who had erected them.


    Thousands of these Towers appeared from one moment to the next, and no one knew why.


    ¡°That¡¯s bullshit! Are you telling me that they don¡¯t know who¡¯s behind this? It would take thousands of people to do something like this. Engineers, construction workers, god only knows who else!¡± Someone in the bar shouted at the screen, and Mathew¡¯s attention was drawn away from the television.


    ¡°It¡¯s a hoax. They put something in the air or the water, and now we¡¯re all hallucinating. It''s MK Ultra all over again!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s aliens! I¡¯m telling you! I watched a video about the pyramids. The same shit happened in ancient Egypt. They were walking through the desert, and Bam! Pyramids plopped down right in front of them. They used them to land their ships on.¡±


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    ¡°You¡¯re off your meds! They¡¯re probably inflatable, like a bouncy castle. You¡¯ll see. They¡¯ll draw all kinds of attention to them, and suddenly, a white apple or a big ¡®G¡¯ will show up on the side. Think of the advertising they are getting from this.¡±


    Mathew listened to what they were saying but didn¡¯t believe any of it. There was something about what he was seeing that seemed too¡­real. And he didn¡¯t think it was finished yet. He was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.


    He didn¡¯t have to wait long.


    The television that had captivated the entire pub as it hung on the wall behind the bar began to glitch, and the broadcast started to distort. The feed, which had been showing towers from various parts of the world, faded away as something else ¡®hijacked¡¯ the screen.


    ¡°What the hell is going on?!¡± Someone shouted in anger.


    ¡°Is the cable out?¡± Another asked the bartender, who was looking at the television with confusion. Picking up the remote, he tried to change the channel, but nothing happened.


    Looking away from the television, Mathew picked up his phone to browse the internet and social media for more information. Tapping on the screen, nothing happened. He couldn¡¯t even open up any of his apps.


    Frustrated, he was about to hard reset his phone when a voice shouted from out from the television and his phone simultaneously.


    ¡°Hello, Earth!¡±


    A man appeared on the television, and Mathew could see that he was also on his and every other patron¡¯s phone. Somehow, this strange person had taken control of every technological device in the entire pub. Every screen was showing his face.


    The bizarre man was unlike anyone Mathew had ever seen outside of an eccentric movie character or television show. He wore an eye blisteringly bright red suit jacket with a fluorescent orange, high-collared button-up shirt beneath. A white top hat and cane completed the outfit.


    He looked young, in his mid-twenties, with the worst mustache imaginable, in Mathew¡¯s opinion. It was long and curled, like a villain from an old cartoon. As he called out from the television, he spread his arms wide, and the camera slowly zoomed out to show that he stood in a white void.


    Kicking his legs in excitedly with each word, he let his ¡®hello¡¯ drag on for a long moment, ending his greeting with a smile that showed a set of blindingly white teeth.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be alarmed! I come in peace!¡±The man laughed as if he were making a joke and expected everyone to join him.


    ¡°I do have the honour, as the Apostle of the God of Games, to welcome you all to the greatest contest in the history of your world! But, not just your world, but every version of your world!¡± The man exclaimed, and fireworks exploded across the screen.


    To Mathew¡¯s shock, explosions sounded from the sky outside, and the darkness was filled with multicoloured light to match what was happening on the television.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Mathew whispered. If this was a trick, it was a good one.


    ¡°The Gods, in their infinite wisdom and mercy, have deemed humanity ready for this grand undertaking. This magnificent competition, this stupendous sport!¡± The man was mad, throwing his arms wide and kicking his legs with every word.


    He threw his cane into the air at the end of his statement and caught it with a flourish.


    ¡°You have no doubt noticed the arrival of our venue for this sport. Thousands of Shards, all mere reflections of the one true Tower of Avarice! One hundred floors, at the top of which our winners will find that which they desire. Power! Glory! Unimaginable Wealth and Fame! Whatever you want, whatever you wish for, all will be fulfilled on the hundredth floor.¡±


    ¡°So the Gods have decreed.¡± The man¡¯s voice faded as he took off his white tophat and bowed to these ¡®Gods.¡¯ Standing upright after a moment, he tapped his finger against his lips in thought before snapping his fingers.


    ¡°But a contest needs players and participants. And that, my lovelies, is where you all come in. The Gods have given you a gift, an opportunity to seize! This contest is open to all! Young and old! Healthy and sick! Wealthy and poor! You are all equal in the Tower.¡±


    ¡°You have doubts. I can hear you now.¡± The Apostle cupped his hand against his ear, leaning his head toward the camera as his voice reached a higher, childlike pitch.


    ¡°This is a trick! How can we trust you when you say ¡®anything¡¯ can be won in the Tower?¡± His voice resumed its usual tone. ¡°Well, every game has rules, my lovelies. Guaranteed by the Gods, binding in this universe and every other! To prove it to you, simply say ¡®Rules¡¯ in a loud, clear voice in the language of your choice.¡± The Apostle finished.


    He seemed to be waiting, impatiently tapping his foot for the Earth to comply with his request. He even looked at a pocket watch, a golden accessory sparkling with diamonds.


    With looks to each other, several of the bar patrons spoke, their voices distinct in the total silence of the pub.


    ¡°Rules!¡± One woman shouted, and a book materialized in front of her. Hovering in the air, it waited until she held her hands out before it fell into her palms. Mathew could see the word ¡®Rules¡¯ emblazoned on the cover in gold.


    ¡°What the F-¡± Mathew shouted, his chair tumbling to the ground behind him. Every other person around him matched his reaction as more books materialized to called requests for ¡®Rules.¡¯

 Chapter 3 - Floor 0: Part 3 - Entering the Tower of Avarice

    <u>Chapter 3</u> ¨C Floor 0: Part 3


    Mathew returned to his apartment after the television screen resumed its typical broadcast. The news report had been in chaos due to the interruption, and everyone in the pub could see the book resting on the news anchor¡¯s desk.


    Rather than watch the endless debate, Mathew had taken his phone and went home. Ignoring the messages and phone calls from family and work colleagues, he set it on ¡®silent¡¯ and sat on the large leather couch in the center of his living room.


    Mathew couldn¡¯t see Central Park from his apartment window, but it did face in that direction. Rising above the buildings opposite to his own, the tower rose into the sky like a black monolith. Helicopters circled it endlessly, and multiple spotlights shone on its surface, lighting it in the night.


    Leaning back on the couch, Mathew took a deep breath to settle his nerves. He felt a sense of anticipation and nervousness at what he was about to do. It was as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff, about to plunge down into the unknown.


    Rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants leg, he held both hands outward, palms upright and spoke in a clear voice.


    ¡°Rules.¡±


    A large, heavy book floated in the air above his coffee table before settling into his grip. He was surprised by the weight of the object. It felt like it was bound in leather. The gold writing caught the dim light of his apartment.


    Turning it over in his hands, Mathew was reminded of the old ¡®tomes¡¯ that he had seen in history documentaries. Things like the bibles that monks would transcribe in a monastery during the middle ages. The paper was yellowish, and as he opened it to the first page, he noticed the writing had a beautiful, flowing script.


    The page contained a preamble, a simple passage that was reminiscent of a legal document to Mathew. It spoke of all those who entered the Tower will be bound to these rules. To his surprise, the ¡®Gods¡¯ that the strange man had spoken of would also abide by the rulebook.


    ¡®Looks like there won¡¯t be any cheating on either side.¡¯ Mathew thought as he skimmed the section. There wasn¡¯t much information here, and after reading it, he flipped to the next page where the actual ¡®rules¡¯ began.


    Rule # 1: There is only one exit to the Tower.


    The rule and a beautifully drawn picture were the only text on this page. Rather than ink or modern paint, it seemed to have been made with crushed minerals. Mathew ran his finger across the picture, feeling the material.


    It depicted a tower in black that Mathew suspected had been made from charcoal, although it didn¡¯t come off onto his finger. The building had a gold door at the bottom and another at the top. A small figure was shown entering the lower door and another exiting from the top.


    ¡°So, once you go in, you can only leave from the highest floor.¡± Mathew muttered.


    Turning the page, he read the following rule.


    Rule #2: There are dangers inside. The Gods will offer assistance to the worthy.


    The following picture showed a collection of monsters. Mathew recognized a little green creature, something that looked like a saber-tooth tiger and a¡­zombie? A person was facing the monsters with a sword in one hand and a small flame held above the other.


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    Floating in the sky behind the person, vaguely humanoid shapes with golden halos around their heads hovered. They were stretching their hands toward the person below them, and Mathew could only assume they were giving it some of their ¡®assistance.¡¯


    ¡°So it''s dangerous. But we¡¯re going to be able to get powers or the means to fight them? Are they going to turn us into superheroes or give us training? What does it mean to be worthy?¡± Mathew said, studying the picture. Did the flame mean that they would actually be able to control fire, or was it to symbolize something else?


    Eager to see more, he turned to another page.


    Rule #3: Everything is possible, but nothing is free.


    This picture depicted those same three creatures from the previous image, although this time, they were clearly dead. The person from before stood victorious, their sword raised into the air. Some kind of blue energy or mist was coming off the deceased monsters and flowing toward the person.


    This page had multiple images. The second showed the same person kneeling in front of the ¡®Gods¡¯, its arms raised as if it were offering the blue mist to them. In exchange, one of the ¡®Gods¡¯ was giving the person a shield.


    ¡°Huh.¡± Mathew was confused by this one. If it were a game, he would think that by killing monsters, they would gain ¡®Experience¡¯ or something and use it to exchange with the gods for power or items.


    ¡°The guy did say he was an Apostle of the God of Games. Did they base this Tower on a video game?¡±  Mathew said.


    He turned to the next page.


    Rule #4: Each floor contains a challenge to be overcome. You may not progress until you accomplish your task.


    This picture showed three levels of the tower. On the bottom, a person was fighting a group of little green creatures in front of a door that contained a set of steps to the next floor.


    On the next, the person with the sword and flame seemed to be conversing with a group of other people, all dressed in different clothing styles. Behind them, a shadowy figure held a knife in one hand and a key in the other. The door to the next level had a large keyhole depicted on it.


    The third level had dozens of doors, with question marks on each. There was obviously a puzzle or riddle to this floor.


    ¡°So it''s not just killing and fighting. There¡¯s going to be mysteries and problems to solve.¡± Mathew reasoned.


    Rule #5: Risk for Reward.


    This picture had the flame and sword-holding figure lying on the ground with a large pool of ruby-red blood around it. The person¡¯s eyes were ¡®X¡¯s,¡¯ and it was clear to Mathew that they had died.


    Just out of their reach, a treasure chest sat unopened. Golden rays of light had been painted around the chest, giving the impression that there was something coveted inside.


    Further down the page, a pile of hundreds of sword and flame-wielding figures were heaped on top of each other. At the very top of the mound of corpses, several living people each had their own treasure chest, and they were raising them high into the air in victory.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need an arts degree to interpret this one. It¡¯s dangerous, and many people will die, but the reward is worth the risk.¡± Mathew explained.


    Rule #6: Cooperation is encouraged but not required.


    Three figures with wildly different outfits and equipment were shaking hands while three different planets hovered above them. Mathew could recognize North America on the center planet, but the others were foreign to him.


    ¡°Wait¡­what? Aliens¡­no, they¡¯re all human. Different Earths? That Apostle did say something about this being offered to every version of Earth. How many people are going to be in this Tower at the same time?¡± Mathew wondered.


    Rule #7: Time¡¯s effects are diminished in the Tower. Age and Illness will not be a burden within.


    This was the strangest image yet.


    The tower¡¯s walls were holding back a figure with black robes and a large scythe. An elderly person was growing younger over a series of three scenes. Another person, their body covered in sores, was healed.


    ¡°You won¡¯t grow older when you¡¯re inside the Tower, and you can even get younger?¡± Mathew was amazed. But he had to remember Rule 3: nothing was free. There was obviously some kind of cost for such a blessing.


    Still, he could imagine the clamour to enter the tower now that it was promising youth and cures for disease.


    Mathew had come to the last page and the final rule.


    Rule #8: No items from outside can help you within the Tower of Avarice.


    The last picture was of a heavily burdened person with a bulging backpack and carrying even more things in their arms. On the other side of the entrance, they wore simple clothing and all their items were gone.


    ¡°Alright. That¡¯s self-explanatory.¡± Mathew said, closing the book and leaning back on the couch.


    There was only a single question left now. Would he enter the Tower or not?

 Chapter 4 - Floor 0: Part 4 - Entering the Tower of Avarice

    <u>Chapter 4</u> ¨C Floor 0: Part 4


    Mathew stayed up all night thinking about that question, going back and forth in his mind, weighing the outcomes and risks. He observed the television, listening to the commentators analyze every word the Apostle had spoken and reviewing the rulebook in detail.


    Mathew came to the conclusion that none of them had a clue what was going on.


    There were no new mysteries to be solved or clues to be gleaned from outside the Tower. The answers were within. The Apostle had made it clear that anyone who wanted to enter would be allowed and that some sort of entrance would appear when they were ready.


    The White House had issued a formal statement, making it clear that they would not allow anyone to enter the Towers, but Mathew doubted they could enforce it. Already, lines of the old and sick were gathered around the barricades, eager to be the first to enter.


    The promise of youth and cures to their afflictions were too much to ignore. And for many, they had nothing to lose by trying.


    Turning off the television, Mathew went to bed, unsure whether he would join the ¡®players¡¯ entering the tower. On the one hand, he would enjoy the challenge, the thrill of making it to the top. But on the other, Mathew had so much to lose! He was on the top here. Why would he risk it all?


    It wasn¡¯t until the following day, waking up tired and bleary-eyed from his late-night news binge, that something spurred him to action.


    He had checked his phone out of habit, scrolling through his multitude of text messages, when he immediately noticed that Emily had texted him. For some reason, it sent a chill through his stomach to see it.


    With everything happening in the world right now, why would she reach out to him in the middle of the night?


    Mathew,


    I wanted you to know that I¡¯m going to enter the Tower with my mother. The doctors didn¡¯t give her long, only a few months. This could be the only way to save her.


    I love you.


    ¡°Christ, Em! Pick up your phone!¡± Mathew cursed, calling her cell, but it immediately went to voicemail. Pacing his room, he tried repeatedly but couldn¡¯t get through. On his fifth attempt, he heard the television in the living make an announcement.


    ¡°Doors have appeared in the towers! The National Guard is trying to prevent people from entering, but tens of thousands are pushing through. Wait, they¡¯re standing aside and letting them through! The first person has reached the doorway opening, and we¡¯re seeing a wall of light.¡±


    Mathew walked to the living room, watching a crowd of people filing their way into the now open tower in the drizzly, early morning light. There must have been a hundred thousand people or more surrounding Central Park and spilling out onto the streets around it.


    He stopped trying to call Emily, knowing that she had either turned her phone off or, more likely, left it at home as she travelled to the nearest Tower with her mother. She was down there now, in that crowd. Hartford was only a few hours away from New York. She would have driven here last night and waited for the door to appear.


    Not thinking, Mathew grabbed his jacket and rushed out of his apartment. He needed to get down there now and find her. Maybe he could talk some sense into her. Running into a tower with her ill mother wasn¡¯t the way to do this.


    All the while, he thought of the sixth rule. Cooperation was encouraged.


    ¡°Goddamn it, Em. I would have gone in with you if you had just asked.¡± Mathew muttered as he burst out onto the street in front of his building. Central Park was only a few blocks away, but the crowd had reached his building, making a line down the road.


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    Sprinting ahead, he kept an eye out for Emily¡¯s dirty blond hair. She would be with her mother, who had been in a wheelchair when Mathew and Emily were still together. The crowd was massive, and they were all moving forward toward the open tower in the distance.


    ¡°Emily!¡± Mathew shouted, but he had no hope of being heard over the din. There was shouting, sirens and the constant noise of the helicopter circling overhead. Not willing to give up, Mathew pushed through the crowds, slipping through wherever there was a gap.


    Eventually, he entered Central Part. The pathways were packed with people, and the NYPD kept a sort of order as they directed people forward. It seemed they had given up trying to keep people from entering, focusing instead on ensuring there wasn¡¯t a riot.


    Running across the grass field, he spotted someone who looked like it could be Emily pushing a wheelchair.


    ¡°Em!¡± Mathew shouted, approaching the person only to see that it wasn¡¯t her. The hair was similar, but the woman was much older than Emily.


    He was beginning to lose hope, turning and looking at the crowd as it passed him. She had to be here. He knew her better than anyone. They had been together for years, ever since they had met in college. They had been inseparable, and he knew how she thought.


    Her mother was all she had left. The woman had sacrificed so much to give Emily a good life. She wouldn¡¯t let her die without trying everything she could to save her. She had chosen her mother over Mathew, and he couldn¡¯t blame her for that. He would have gone with her to Connecticut if she asked, but she knew it wouldn¡¯t have made him happy to do it.


    ¡°Emily.¡± Mathew whispered. He was near the Tower now. Its black stone surface glistened in the grey morning light. It was real. This wasn¡¯t an illusion or a trick. The doors were in front of him, calling to him, when he saw her.


    Emily was wearing a white sweater and black pants, her hair tied up in a messy bun as she pushed her mother¡¯s wheelchair toward the open doors. The middle-aged woman was frail and sickly, her cheekbones sunken and her skin greyish-white from her illness.


    ¡°Emily!¡± Mathew shouted, trying to reach her. She turned around to look in his direction, her eyes searching the crowd for whoever had called her name, before turning back toward the Tower. In an instant, she was gone.


    ¡°Shit! Emily!¡± Mathew pushed his way forward, heedless of everyone around him. He was only a few feet away from the door when the reality of what he was about to do hit him.


    He was going to enter the Tower. He was going to find Emily and help her. He was going to win, and they would all come home again.


    Craning his head backwards, Mathew looked at the Tower as it rose high into the air, the top disappearing in the cloud cover above. The doors were open in front of him, calling him to enter and seek the rewards within.


    Mathew took the last step and entered the Tower of Avarice.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    He was in the lobby of an office building. It could have been taken from any business park, city, or world, with marble tile floors, white walls and elegant, tasteful furniture arranged in large sitting areas.


    There were large windows taking up the entirety of three of the room¡¯s walls, and he could see Central Park and the gathering of people outside. But he was standing alone. There was no one else in the office lobby with him and no exit behind him.


    ¡°Where is everyone? Emily?¡± Mathew called out. He had entered with thousands of other people. How could he be the only person here?


    ¡°Hello, how may I help you today?¡± A voice called out. Turning to the front of the lobby, Mathew blinked in surprise.


    There was a young woman sitting behind a large desk. The wall behind her had an enormous sign that read ¡®Tower of Avarice.¡¯ She wore a grey suit jacket and matching skirt, her hair pinned in a tight bun. There was a closed door behind her.


    ¡°Uh, hello. I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t understand. Where am I, and where is everyone else?¡± Mathew asked hesitantly. The young woman smiled at the question.


    ¡°You¡¯re here for the Tower? Right this way, I¡¯ll have you registered in a moment. Name?¡± She asked, typing into a desktop computer.


    ¡°Mathew Larson.¡±


    ¡°Very good. You¡¯ve read and understood the rules?¡± She asked brusquely. Mathew nodded.


    ¡°Please proceed through the door behind me. The test will begin shortly.¡± She explained, finishing typing on the computer. She gestured to the door behind her. Mathew heard a loud ¡®click¡¯ as it unlocked.


    ¡°Test?¡± Mathew asked in confusion. The rulebook hadn¡¯t said anything about a test.


    ¡°To establish a baseline and determine your starting Blessing. It¡¯s standard, and you may quit at any time without penalty. Depending on your performance, the rewards you will receive will change. If you prefer, you may forgo the Blessing and directly enter Floor 1, but I would not recommend that.¡± The young woman explained.


    ¡°Alright¡­.are you real?¡± Mathew asked after he had taken a few steps toward the door. The young woman smiled again at the question.


    ¡°What a silly thing to ask! Of course I¡¯m not real. Please enjoy your time in the Tower of Avarice.¡± She replied. When Mathew blinked, she was gone as if she had never been there at all. Spinning around, he looked around the empty room for her, but she was nowhere to be seen.


    Feeling even more confused, he pushed open the door to the first test.

 Chapter 5 - Floor 0: Part 5 - Entering the Tower of Avarice

    <u>Chapter 5</u> ¨C Floor 0: Part 5


    Mathew found himself in a large office with dozens of cubicles. Each had a workspace with a computer and chair, seemingly mundane and boring. Personal effects were scattered across the desks, giving the impression of a functional office.


    There was music playing, some kind of pop song that he hadn¡¯t heard before. Streamers were hanging from the ceiling tiles, each reading ¡®Happy Birthday John!¡¯ on them in multicolored, shimmering paper.


    It was an office party. Mathew had seen dozens of similar ones before. Despite how much you decorate and provide food and alcohol, they all had the same dreary feel to them. There were people gathered in groups, wearing business casual clothing, and Mathew could see the New York skyline outside the windows.


    It wouldn¡¯t have been strange to see anywhere in America except for a single fact about the partygoers. They were marionettes. Mathew could see the strings guiding their limbs as they stretched up into a black void above them.


    ¡°What the hell is going on?!¡± Mathew hissed, terrified at what he was seeing. Was this a test? The puppets were lifelike, but the strings combined with their awkward movements made it clear they were not real people.


    They were speaking to each other, and Mathew could make out their conversations'' ordinary and dull content. They even repeated their lines, like they were programmed only to have a set amount of responses. He seemed to be the only actual person in the entire area.


    Burning words appeared on a wall beside him, explaining the nature of the test. No one except Mathew seemed taken aback by their appearance.


    Test 1/3


    ¡®John¡¯ has a secret. Find out what it is by any means necessary.


    Mathew read through the message quickly, and it faded away as soon as he did so, leaving black soot marks on the walls in its wake.


    ¡°A secret? That¡¯s it?¡± Mathew muttered.


    He ran a hand down his jacket to wipe away the sweat on his palms when he noticed his clothing had changed. He was wearing a cheap, polyester suit with a tan colour and a black shirt. His Rolex was gone, replaced with a digital, plastic wristwatch.


    ¡°When did¡­¡± Mathew muttered, confused, before he recalled that nothing could be brought into the Tower from the outside.


    ¡°Right. Focus. Get this done and find Emily.¡± Mathew whispered. Preparing himself, he strode toward the closest Marionettea, a man and a woman who were talking near a window.


    ¡°Hello. I¡¯m looking for John.¡± Mathew stated. He didn¡¯t expect them to answer because they were puppets, but they turned and looked at him, their expressions uncanny as their strings moved their limbs.


    ¡°Ah, Mathew! Enjoying the party? I was just saying to Stef that you¡¯ve been doing a fantastic job the last few weeks. Really carried the team!¡± The male puppet said, and Mathew was taken aback by how it knew his name.


    ¡°Uh, thanks. Listen, I need to speak to John. Do you know where he is?¡± Mathew asked, looking around the party at the dozens of other marionettes. He had no idea which one he was looking for.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Sure! He¡¯s speaking with Margery right now in the conference room. But they didn¡¯t want to be disturbed. They even locked the door. They¡¯re probably talking about our bonuses!¡± The female puppet replied, and Mathew smiled at the answer.


    ¡°Thanks, I¡¯ll just¡­head over there.¡± He said, already walking away. Christ, this was weird!


    Passing the offices that occupied the center of the floor behind the cubicles, he searched the doorplates for the ¡®conference room,¡¯ only to stop when he saw one that said ¡®John.¡¯


    ¡°Maybe the secret is just in his office?¡± Mathew said, stepping forward and opening the door. The interior was a standard, sparsely decorated middle management office with a few pictures of a puppet man that Mathew could only assume was John and his family.


    Looking around for anything that could hold a secret, the only thing he could find was the powered-on computer. Clicking the mouse, he was greeted by a password screen.


    ¡°Password. Great. What is it? Puppet? Marionette?¡± Mathew muttered as he typed into the keyboard. Locked.


    ¡°What would this John use as a password? Do I need to speak with him first?¡± Mathew idly sat in front of the computer, looking around, when he saw a post-it note stuck to the desktop case of the computer.


    ¡®Reminder: the password is your favourite hobby!¡¯


    ¡°I¡¯m honestly not surprised,¡± Mathew said, plucking the post-it note off the case. IT had given his Firm multiple talks about cyber security, but there were still many people whose password was ¡®password¡¯ or had it written on a note.


    ¡°Favorite hobby¡­¡± Mathew looked around for a hint. ¡®John¡¯ had a lot of pictures of a boat in his office, with several showing him holding a massive fish made of paper, funnily enough.


    ¡°Boating? Fishing?¡± His second guess got him access to the computer. There was a single opened email on his desktop. Clicking it, he found a short message.


    ¡®Meet me in the conference room, lover. Don¡¯t tell anyone, especially your wife. M.¡¯


    ¡°John is having an affair? That¡¯s the secret?¡± Mathew looked around the office, waiting for more burning text to appear, but nothing happened.


    ¡°Not good enough? Do you need a name or something? M¡­John is meeting Margery in the conference room¡­. John is having an affair with Margery?¡± Mathew said, and to his relief, burning letters appeared on the wall.


    Congratulations. Would you like to proceed to the next test?


    ¡°Yes?¡± Mathew said, unsure of if he should just say it. The room faded into bright light, leaving Mathew alone once more before it disappeared, and he was in a new location.


    He was standing on the side of a dirt road, surrounded by forest. The road bent, preventing him from seeing far down either side. The sky above him was clear of clouds and blue, with a yellow sun hanging directly overhead.


    It was warm, and the air had a scent of woodsmoke. Mathew was utterly alone but could hear running water in the distance and what sounded like shouting.


    ¡°What the hell? How did I get out?¡± Mathew wondered. The rules were clear. There was only one exit to the tower. Was he kicked out? How would he find Emily if the Tower tossed him out into the middle of nowhere?


    Looking around, he realized his clothing had changed again. He was wearing a rough woollen shirt in off-colour white and durable, coarse pants in a dark grey.


    More burning letters appeared on the dirt road in front of him, glowing brightly in the sunlight.


    Test 2/3


    You have barely managed to escape the ravages of war. The only safety lies across the river, where you will find sanctuary.


    ¡°Alright¡­I¡¯m still in the tower. Cross the river, got it.¡± Mathew said. The tests were insane, first puppets, and now he was in the woods. Was there no limit to what the Tower could do?


    With no choice, Mathew picked a direction that seemed to be where the sounds of shouting and water were coming from. His leather boots sent up puffs of dust with each step as he walked down the road.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°You bastards! You have no right to keep us here!¡± Someone shouted as Mathew came upon a chaotic scene. More Marionettes were stationed in front of, and on, a bridge that divided a wide, raging river. He could see there was a village on the far side, a small hamlet with stone buildings.


    The bridge was narrow, barely enough to drive a single car down, and made of wood. There were hundreds of Marionettes in front of it, all dressed similarly to Mathew. The dozen or so Puppets keeping them from crossing looked like bandits or street toughs. They were even holding wooden clubs menacingly.


    Cautiously approaching a Puppet on the edge of the crowd, Mathew asked what was happening.


    ¡°They want a gold coin for each person to cross.¡± An older male Marionette said, spitting on the ground in disgust.


    ¡°A gold coin? Where the hell am I going to get a gold coin?¡± Mathew wondered.

 Chapter 6 - Floor 0: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 6</u> ¨C Floor 0: Part 6


    Rooting around in his pockets for a gold coin, Mathew¡¯s hands came back out empty. He had no money, no gold coin to purchase passage across the bridge.


    He looked at the ¡®guards¡¯ preventing him from crossing. At the end of the day, they were marionettes. Their weapons appeared to be dangerous, but how much strength could a puppet have if they attacked him?


    Still, he would prefer not to test it unless he had to. The last thing he wanted to do was to get into a fight and risk injury or worse when he hadn¡¯t even begun climbing the Tower yet. He wanted to pass this test with flying colours, as he had done when he was still in school.


    Glancing past the gathered crowd, Mathew eyed the river itself. There was a strong current, and the far bank was a quarter mile away, maybe a bit further. He could swim as long as the water wasn¡¯t too cold and the current didn¡¯t take him too far downstream.


    He was assessing his options when a glint of light caught his eye. His wristwatch, which had started as a Rolex and had morphed into a cheap piece of plastic with a digital face during the last test, had changed once again. It was now a bracelet, gold and shiny.


    Mathew had an idea. When he was in college, he used to do a trick in bars, something he had learned from a book on sleight-of-hand street magic. It had only ever been helpful in getting free drinks and the occasional phone number, but now it might get him past this bridge.


    Pushing his way through the crowd, careful not to tangle their strings as he did so, Mathew stopped in front of the cudgel-wielding puppet in the front.


    ¡°Hey! See this?¡± Mathew asked, ripping the gold bracelet from his arm and holding it up.


    ¡°It¡¯s worth more than the coin you¡¯re asking for. I¡¯ll make you a bet. I toss a coin in the air, and if it comes up ¡®heads,¡¯ you let me through, and I keep the bracelet.¡± Mathew taunted the Guard, letting the bracelet catch the light.


    He could see the grin on the man¡¯s face at the proposition of getting a treasure and not having to do anything in return.


    ¡°And if it''s tails?¡± The Guard said.


    ¡°You keep it, and I stay here. But I get to toss the coin.¡± Mathew replied. The Guard looked at his companions for a moment before turning back and nodding. The strings attached to his limbs made a jerking motion as he tossed a coin to Mathew, who deftly snatched it out of the air.


    ¡°Alright. Watch carefully.¡± He tossed the coin in the air. It arced upwards, spinning rapidly and letting the sunshine on its two golden surfaces. The ¡®head¡¯ side was of a crowned man while the tails were some words in a language Mathew didn¡¯t understand.


    As it descended, Mathew snatched it out of the air. Let it slip around his palm for a moment, he subtly ensured that it would show the side he wanted. Slapping in on the back of his hand, he held it forward.


    ¡°Heads!¡± Mathew shouted, and the Guard groaned loudly.


    ¡°Fine! You can pass. But you don¡¯t get to keep that coin!¡± The Guard shouted, holding out his hand for Mathew to return it. Flicking it into the air toward the Guard, Mathew stepped across the bridge before anyone changed his mind.


    As he reached the far bank, the world turned to white once again.


    Mathew was in a large room, and the walls were lined with bookshelves. There were no windows, and the only door was at the far side of the space. A statue of a knight stood in front of it, with a giant axe in its hands. The axe''s head rested on the ground at its feet.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    There was a table of weapons to Mathew¡¯s right. Clubs, hammers, a sword, and even an old-fashioned rifle that wouldn¡¯t have been out of place in the Civil War made a motley collection.


    To his left was a large table with beakers and vials of different coloured liquids and herbs. It reminded Mathew of a chemistry set, but one that an Alchemist could have used in Medieval Europe to treat the plague.


    ¡°What am I supposed to do now?¡± Mathew asked out loud. In response, the burning letters appeared on the wooden floor before him.


    Test 3/3


    A stone guardian defends the exit. There are many ways to bypass or defeat it. The answers are all around you.


    ¡°Helpful. Thanks.¡± Mathew muttered dryly. He looked at the statue once again.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to come alive, aren¡¯t you?¡± Mathew asked, not expecting a response. He looked at the weapons beside him, comparing them to the large axe the statue held. Even if it were blunt, he wouldn¡¯t want to get hit by it.


    ¡°So. I can fight it or¡­ brew something to stop it? I¡¯m in a library for a reason. What do you want to bet the answer to your demise is in one of these books?¡± Mathew spoke to the statue once again. Ignoring the vials of liquid, the herbs and the weapons, Mathew strode to the nearest shelf.


    Pulling out a book at random, he skimmed through its contents.


    ¡°A young man was walking through the forest when he came upon a sphinx. The creature asked him three riddles.¡± Mathew muttered. Looking at the statue, he thought for a moment.


    ¡°Do you have a riddle for me?¡± Mathew asked. The silence continued.


    ¡°Of course not.¡± He muttered, throwing the unsuccessful book on the ground. He picked up another one.


    ¡°A cooking book? Useless.¡± Mathew scoffed, throwing this one to the side. He continued for nearly an hour until he had an entire bookshelf bare when he came upon an answer.


    ¡°Stone-eating acid.¡± Mathew stated, nodding in satisfaction.


    ¡°This¡¯ll do.¡± He walked to the table with the vials of liquid. Lifting them up one at a time, he read the labels and placed the ones that he needed in front of him. He didn¡¯t know the names of the herbs, but the book was very detailed and helped him identify what there were by their leaves, stems and even their scent.


    Crushing some in a mortar and pestle, he added precise amounts from the vials using the measuring devices he found in one of the drawers. It wasn¡¯t hard; it was like following directions while cooking, something he didn¡¯t do often, but even he could put his mind to it when it meant not fighting a stone statue.


    With the last drop of a greenish liquid in a beaker, the fluorescent orange acid began to boil and smoke. The book had warned him it would do that, so Mathew wasn¡¯t too concerned. He carried it to the front of the room and studied the statue carefully.


    As he took another step, he could hear the statue begin to thrum with energy. A grinding noise filled the room as it slowly began to move. Its axe left a gash on the wooden floor as it gradually turned upright, held in two massive stone hands.


    Mathew threw the beaker at the statue, letting the glass smash onto its stone torso. The orange liquid clung to its surface like bright paint. Mathew could hear a sizzling sound as the room filled with smoke. In seconds, it ate away at the statue¡¯s body.


    The axe fell to the ground with a loud crash, followed by the statue''s upper body. Observing it for a moment to ensure it wasn¡¯t going to move again, Mathew picked his way past the fallen guardian.


    ¡°There you have it. Knowledge is power.¡± Mathew quipped before opening the door.


    He was back in the lobby of the Tower of Avarice. Looking around with confusion, he saw that nothing had changed. The outside still showed the same, drizzly mid-morning New York outdoors with people gathered to enter the Tower.


    The desk in front of him was once again occupied by the smartly dressed young woman who was busy typing on her computer. Looking up, she smiled at him.


    ¡°Hello, Mr. Larson. I have your test results if you would like to step forward?¡± She said.


    ¡°Uh, sure. Listen, was that real? Like, any of it? The puppets, the outdoors part with the bridge¡­.the statue? Or am I hallucinating?¡± Mathew asked as he leaned forward against her desk. The woman laughed, adjusting her black-framed glasses before responding.


    ¡°Of course, it wasn¡¯t real, Mr. Larson. The test is the god''s way of judging your abilities before you enter the tower. You wouldn¡¯t have been harmed by anything you experienced. You merely would have been pushed onward to the next test. Even in failure, the gods can learn much about you.¡± She replied.


    ¡°The gods¡­right. Listen, can you explain what the hell is going on? Who are you? Who are the gods? Why did they send this tower?¡± Mathew asked desperately.


    The young woman shook her head at the question.


    ¡°Answers will cost you, Mr. Larson. And unfortunately, you don¡¯t have anything to purchase them with at the moment. Don¡¯t worry, you will have an opportunity later. Now, would you like to review your results?¡±

 Chapter 7 - Floor 0: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 7</u> ¨C Floor 0: Part 7


    The young woman put three separate sheets of paper on the top of her desk. With a small, closely written font, the words took up the entire page. Tapping the far left one with her finger, she began to explain.


    ¡°For your first test, you were asked to find a secret about ¡®John.¡¯ Like all of our tests, there are infinite ways to go about it. Depending on your method, the gods will judge your actions.¡±


    ¡°They were watching everything I did?¡± Mathew asked in concern.


    ¡°The gods see all that happens within in the Tower.¡± The young woman said with a small smile before drawing his attention back to the top of the page.


    ¡°You used your charm and charisma to find out the location of ¡®John¡¯ and then proceeded to stealthily break into his office and determine his password using clues around you. No one in the office around you became aware of your actions.¡± She explained.


    ¡°For your ease, only the top three comments from amongst the gods are reflected on this page.¡± Her finger, with a bright red lacquered nail, tapped on the middle portion of the sheet.


    The god of Perfect Subterfuge is pleased.


    The god of Unprovoked Murder is displeased.


    The god of Broken Secrets is pleased.


    As Mathew read through them, his head lifted quickly in alarm.


    ¡°Should I be worried that a god is displeased with me?¡± Mathew asked in concern. Especially one with such a worrying name as ¡®the god of Unprovoked Murder.¡¯


    ¡°The gods cannot interfere with those who have entered the tower. They will be pleased or displeased with your actions as you climb the floors. Their attitudes will be reflected in the Blessings they choose to offer. I would not concern yourself with them.¡± The young woman said, shaking her head at the question.


    ¡°The gods have chosen not to give you an additional Blessing for your performance in this test.¡± She finished, pulling the page back and placing it on her desk beside her keyboard.


    ¡°Then what was the point?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Your actions in the test will be reflected in the Blessings offered at the end. Three Blessings gathered from amongst the gods. You will choose one. Additionally, you will be required to select a Discipline aligned with one of your Patron deity¡¯s demesne.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Mathew replied after a moment in confusion.


    ¡°I will explain further when it is time for the selection. Let us continue to the second test.¡± The young woman stated, directing his attention to the second sheet of paper.


    ¡°For the second test, you used guile and trickery to bypass the guards and reach safety. This was an uncommon approach.¡± She finished her explanation, and Mathew looked at the gods¡¯ reaction to his sleight-of-hand trick.


    The god of Petty Trickery is delighted.


    The god of Unprovoked Murder is greatly displeased.


    The god of Arcane Knowledge is intrigued.


    ¡°I assume they are upset I didn¡¯t kill everyone in sight and walk across soaked in blood.¡± Mathew dryly stated as he saw the murderous god¡¯s reaction.


    ¡°The god of Petty Trickery would like to offer you a boon.¡± The young woman said, holding up a small, black box with a bright blue bow on the top. Mathew was hesitant to touch it for a moment, considering its source, but finally decided to bite the bullet.


    It was a small silver coin with a crowned man on one side and the same strange words he had seen on the test¡¯s currency on the other. A small note was tucked into the box.


    The Trickster¡¯s Coin. It will always turn up whichever side its owner wills when thrown.


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    Giving it a test flip with a whispered ¡®heads,¡¯ the coin fell on his palm with the crowned image showing. He placed it in his pocket.


    ¡°Thanks for the uh¡­magic coin?¡± Mathew said, looking around the room¡¯s ceiling to convey who he meant to direct the gratitude. He didn¡¯t get any response, so he merely shrugged his shoulders. He was resolved to take everything in stride after what he had experienced already.


    ¡°The third and final test. You ignored the weapons and the many of the books. Each would have given you a possible means of bypassing the guardian sculpture. You chose one of the harder options, brewing the ¡®Stone-Eating Acid¡¯ potion. Following the directions meticulously, you defeated the door¡¯s sentinel.¡±


    The young woman turned the page toward him so Mathew could read the god¡¯s responses. Like the pages before, only the top three were shown.


    The god of Chivalrous Combat is disappointed.


    The god of Riddles and Enigmas is disappointed.


    The god of Alchemical Concoctions is exceptionally pleased.


    ¡°Is there a god of everything?¡± Mathew asked with disbelief. It seemed every option in these tests had a god backing it.


    ¡°There are as many gods as there are stars in the sky, Mr. Larson.¡± The young woman said without expression.


    ¡°The gods have chosen not to grant you a boon, but one of your offered Disciplines will be changed to better reflect your performance. A more common Discipline has been replaced with its rarer counterpart.¡± The young woman finished, placing the page with the other two on her desk.


    ¡°So, that¡¯s it? On to the Blessings and whatever else you were talking about?¡± Mathew asked, stepping back from the desk.


    ¡°Not quite. Prior to your entry into the 1<sup>st</sup> floor of the Tower, the god of Games grants you this Boon.¡± The young woman took out a plain silver wristband. Gesturing him forward, she placed it around his right wrist, where it closed in a seamless loop.


    The metal, cold at first, quickly warmed.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Mathew asked. After the first Boon of the coin, he doubted this gift was decorative.


    ¡°This bangle will display various information regarding the game and your place within it. Simply say ¡®Display¡¯ and it will respond.¡± She explained, nodding at him in encouragement.


    ¡°Display.¡± Mathew stated, and the wristband grew warmer. A holographic image appeared above it, showing three words.


    Status | Inventory | Blessings


    ¡°This really is like a game.¡± Mathew whispered, licking his lips nervously. He hadn¡¯t played many games but was familiar with the more popular ones. He compared it to an RPG, with various classes and spells.


    Had the god of Games based Earth¡¯s version of the Tower of Avarice on a tabletop role-playing game?


    ¡°You may browse each at your leisure later, but they are rather self-explanatory. Status will give you a summary of your current state and progress within the Tower. Inventory is a ¡®space¡¯ that will hold all of your belongings. You will notice that the coin you received is no longer in your pocket. It has been stored within your bangle. You may retrieve it at any time from your inventory.¡± The young woman explained.


    Mathew used his hand to dig into his pocket, finding it empty as she said.


    ¡°The final ¡®Blessings¡¯ will explain all blessings you have received or purchased from within the Tower.¡± She finished. Pushing back her chair, she moved past a stunned Mathew, who was still staring at the holographic screen.


    ¡°You have been given a choice of three Disciplines. After you select one, you will choose between three blessings corresponding to your chosen Discipline. Decide carefully. You may not select a new Discipline until you have gained sufficient ¡®levels¡¯ in your current one.¡± Arriving at the far end of the lobby, Mathew could see three pieces of art hanging on the wall.


    ¡°These depict the offered Disciplines the gods have made available to you. Your bangle will reveal more information. I may not assist or influence you in any way in your selection.¡± The young woman finished, stepping near the wall and not speaking further.


    Lowering his right arm that had the silver wristband, Mathew looked at the three paintings that showed these ¡®Disciplines.¡¯ From what he understood, games were like ¡®jobs¡¯ or ¡®classes,¡¯ influencing his development.


    ¡°Levels?¡± Mathew asked, turning back to the woman as he thought about what she had said.


    ¡°The process of growing stronger and more experienced in your chosen Discipline. Aether obtained from the floors may be used to increase your ¡®level.¡¯ Each Discipline affects the growth of your three main attributes: Body, Mind and Spirit. Your Discipline will also be affected by your attributes in turn.¡± She explained.


    ¡°Alright. And how do I know what my ¡®attributes¡¯ are?¡± Mathew asked, and the young woman smiled at the question.


    ¡°That information is contained in your ¡®status¡¯ screen, along with a brief explanation.¡±


    ¡°Status.¡± Mathew said, and the bangle on his wrist lit up to show another screen.


    It was a simple picture of him with a short summary of information.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: N/A


    Level: 0


    Aether: 0


    Attributes


    Body: 1.2


    Mind: 1.5


    Spirit: 0.3


    ¡°If you would like more information on something specific, ¡®focus¡¯ on that part of the screen.¡± The young woman interrupted. Mathew looked at the ¡®body¡¯ part of his attributes.


    Body: Physical strength and dexterity. Affects appearance and overall health, stamina and endurance.


    Mind: Ability to use Mana and its effective potency. Affects clarity of thought and memory retention.


    Spirit: Connection to the gods. Your faith and trust in the metaphysical. Affects Blessings tied to the the divine.


    ¡°And the numbers? What do they mean?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°A ¡®1¡¯ is the numerical representation of the average human.¡± The young woman replied.


    Closing the screen, Mathew turned to look at the offered disciplines.

 Chapter 8 - Floor 0: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 8</u> ¨C Floor 0: Part 8


    As the young woman had said, there were three Disciplines to choose from. Hanging from the wall, each depicted a scene in a painting set within a heavy frame.


    Starting from the left, the painter captured an image of a man like Mathew surrounded by roughly dressed men and women. He appeared to be in an alley or enclosed space. Bare-chested, the figure in the painting raised his fists aggressively, and several of his opponents were lying unconscious on the ground. Many more were preparing to swarm him.


    This painting was set in a simple wooden frame that lacked any decoration.


    ¡°Display.¡± Mathew said, holding up the silver wristband to the painting. Information filled the screen, giving him a summary of this Discipline.


    Discipline: Thug


    Rarity: Common


    Attributes per Level: Body ++, Spirit +


    Summary: You¡¯ve never needed to learn or train to fight. The best way to learn is to do; after a lifetime of fighting, you¡¯ve become a force to be reckoned with. Knuckles like steel and skin as hard as leather. You can take a punch.


    Mathew snuck a glance at the young woman but chose not to ask her a question. She had made it clear that she wouldn¡¯t attempt to influence his choice. He moved on to the next painting.


    This one was in a bronze frame with elegant patterns on the exterior. It depicted a man in front of a large, black cauldron, stirring it with a bulky wooden stick. He was wearing a white shirt and black pants as he added some herbs to the boiling pot.


    Discipline: Amateur Alchemist


    Rarity: Uncommon


    Attributes per Level: Mind +, Spirit +, Body +


    Summary: Self-trained and self-taught, you can brew a simple potion or identify an essential herb from a book or scroll. With determination, a sound mind and faith in yourself, you step foot on the long, winding road of learning Alchemy.


    Mathew was interested in this one. He had seen how powerful the Stone-Eating Acid potion had been against the guardian of the third test. It would be helpful to have a whole slew of potions ready to toss at his enemies if he needed to.


    The only concern he had was where to get the equipment and ingredients. He momentarily looked at the young woman, wondering if he should ask before moving on to the last painting.


    This one showed a man standing in front of a large crowd of spectators. He was wearing a black cloak that billowed dramatically in the wind. He was holding up his right hand, palm facing the sky, and a large flame was hovering above it. The crowd clapped their hands at the display of magic, and he saw a pile of coins at the man¡¯s feet.


    This painting¡¯s frame was silver with thorns around the edges.


    Discipline: Charlatan


    Rarity: Rare


    Attributes per Level: Mind++, Body +


    Summary: Using magic, bending Mana to your will, and enhancing your abilities with Aether requires years of patient study and unshakable faith in the gods. Forgoing your studies and eschewing the gods, you learned a few simple tricks and made your way out into the world, entertaining the masses with your magic and swindling them out of their hard-earned coin.


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    Mathew couldn¡¯t hold in his questions anymore, and he turned to the young woman who was silently waiting for his decision.


    ¡°Magic is real?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Of course. Mana exists within all creatures. Your chosen Discipline will allow you to access it. Combined with the appropriate Blessing, you may bring that Mana into reality in a variety of ways.¡± She replied.


    ¡°Where would I get ingredients for the potions if I choose ¡®Amateur Alchemist?¡¯¡± Mathew asked. The young woman was silent for a moment, considering if this would influence his decision. She decided it did not since he would learn of the ¡®shop,¡¯ regardless.


    ¡°Each floor has a temple dedicated to the gods. You may purchase items, weapons, Blessings and even new Disciplines there. Of course, you may also trade with other players, provided the floor you are on is open to others. Temples will also be where you ¡®level¡¯ your chosen Discipline.¡±


    ¡°Using Aether?¡± Mathew asked. The young woman nodded in response.


    ¡°Does the rarity of a Discipline matter? Are the rare ones more powerful or useful?¡± Mathew asked. Again, the young woman was silent for a moment before replying.


    ¡°No. They are simply more ¡®exclusive,¡¯ requiring a god to recommend it for you. In this case, your performance in the test drew the attention of several. They used their influence to grant you these Disciplines over the more common in the hopes that you will join their Demesne, thereby offering your Aether to them.¡±


    ¡°Alright. So basically, they are giving me preferential treatment now in the hopes that their investment pays off in the future?¡± Mathew reasoned, and the young woman smiled.


    ¡°Indeed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine with that. I choose Charlatan.¡± The thought of magic appealed to Matthew, as it would practically anyone who lived in a mundane reality. Summoning fire was impressive if that was what its ability was.


    Charlatan¡¯s status as a rare Discipline certainly helped his decision. Exclusive was always better. Otherwise, why would it be rare?


    ¡°Very well.¡± The young woman stated, and the paintings on the wall shimmered as the scenes shifted. Mathew could feel something profound inside his chest. A spreading warmth started in his torso and moved along his limbs before moving back above his heart.


    Was this Mana?


    ¡°Please select your Blessing.¡± The young woman added, gesturing to the pictures.


    They had changed. Mathew looked to the one of the far left again. This one was in a bronze frame, and it depicted the same black-robed figure from the Charlatan painting standing in front of a different crowd. He was pointing at a burning pile of wood, and the fire was rising into the sky.


    Blessing: Create and Control Flames


    Summary: Using your Mana, you harness the power of simple flames to your will. Ignite combustible materials at your command, controlling the flames as you direct. The fire''s size, shape and quantity are limited only by your Mind and control of your Mana.


    The second painting depicted the robed figure holding a stone in its hands. Magic surrounded the rock, making it glow with power. Another stone was already striking a shadowy monster in the distance, exploding on impact.


    Blessing: Imbue the Mundane


    Summary: Imbue an ordinary, mundane object with chaotic Mana, causing it to explode on impact.


    The third, in a matching bronze frame as the rest, depicted the black-robed figure using magic to remove a large amount of earth from the ground at his feet and forming a pile beside him. He was grinning at the action as a group of angry villagers waving torches were about to fall into the hole he had created.


    Blessing: Mold the Earth


    Summary: Use your Mana to excavate the ground near you or loosen rock and hard-packed dirt. The amount of earth moulded and changed is determined by your Mind and the amount of Mana.


    Mathew let out a deep breath. It really was magic. He would be able to do one of these things, possibly all of them, eventually.


    But what would be the most useful? Creating and controlling fire was impressive, and it could be used in a variety of situations. Imbuing something with magic would be handy in a fight, something that the Rulebook had made clear was likely to happen if the images shown there were to be believed.


    Molding the Earth would be useful as well, but only if he were outdoors. Thinking for a moment, he pointed at the far left image.


    ¡°Create and Control Flames.¡± Mathew said, and the young woman nodded.


    ¡°Very well. Your Discipline and Blessing has been added to your status screen. As you progress through the Tower, you will have opportunities to change your Discipline to ¡®complementary¡¯ paths. Additional Blessings can be purchased from temples, provided you meet the requirements.¡±


    ¡°Please follow me.¡¯ She said, gesturing for him to follow as she returned to her desk. The door behind her had changed into an elevator with metallic doors. With a loud ¡®ding,¡¯ the doors slid open to reveal the interior.


    Mathew walked to the elevator. Seeing there was only a single button on the door marked ¡®1,¡¯ Mathew pressed it and waited for the doors to close.


    ¡°Thanks for your help. Hopefully, I¡¯ll see you again.¡± Mathew said to the young woman right before the doors cut her off from sight.


    He was finally going to begin his journey through the Tower of Avarice.

 Chapter 9 – Floor 1: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 9</u> ¨C Floor 1: Part 1


    The elevator doors opened with a loud ¡®ding,¡¯ sliding soundlessly to the side and revealing the first floor of the Tower of Avarice to Mathew¡¯s eyes. It was bright, so blinding that he was forced to hold up a hand to block it from harming his eyes.


    Mathew stepped forward, his shoes left the tiled floor of the elevator and sank into soft grass. The light faded with his exit, and he could see again.


    He was in a field of grass on the edge of a forest. The clearing in front of him showed a field of green grass that led to the walls of a small town that could have been plucked from medieval Europe. With a wooden log wall and a trench surrounding it, the town was more fortified than Mathew would have expected to find in a modern world.


    It reminded him of the second test with the bridge, with a rustic aesthetic that was too real to be faked.


    The air smelled of woodsmoke, and he could hear voices in the distance from the town. There were less than a hundred buildings, all made of stone and wood with clay tile roofs. He didn¡¯t see a single automobile, and none of the roads were paved.


    ¡°Where the hell am I now?¡± Mathew muttered aloud.


    He moved to close his jacket against the chill air when his fingers touched soft cloth instead of the expected leather of his coat. Looking down, he was surprised to see he had changed clothing since leaving the Elevator.


    His jeans, white shirt and black leather jacket, had been replaced with soft black pants, a high-collared white button-up shirt and a black cloak like the one that he had seen in the painting of his Discipline. He was wearing a mirror-matching outfit of the Charlatan.


    The silver wristband was still around his right wrist, but his Rolex watch was gone. Checking his pockets, he found they were also empty. Aside from the clothes on his back, he had nothing to his name. Before he could look around further at his situation, the silver bangle began to heat up and vibrate.


    Lifting his arm in surprise, the burning letters from the test reappeared, this time occupying the full holographic screen of his wristband.


    Floor: 1


    Summary: The continent of Thassa had once been peaceful. Worshipping the gods of both the domain of Life and Death, the cycle of mortality and rebirth was interrupted. The balance of the world tilted, and the dead began to live while the living died. The Last Temple called to the gods for mercy, and they sent their champions.


    Goal:  As a summoned champion to this world, it is your responsibility to free the city of August from the undead. Once the city is cleansed, the path to the next floor will be revealed.


    ¡°Wait, undead? Like zombies?¡± Mathew asked, shaking the wristband to try to get more information, but nothing happened. After he had finished reading, the image faded, leaving the status, inventory and Blessing screen like it usually was.


    Lowering his arm, Mathew looked around fearfully for a horde of undead to attack him.


    But things seemed peaceful here. He could even see people standing on the walls of the town, staring at him and pointing. The small village in front of him didn¡¯t seem much like a city; perhaps August was further away, and this was a stopping point?


    Shaking his head, he began to walk across the grass field toward a dirt path that ran toward the town''s gates. He was attracting more attention now. There were at least a half dozen people standing atop the wall, observing him as he approached.


    A voice called out to him when he was about twenty feet away from the gates.


    ¡°That¡¯s close enough, Firstie. We have to go over the rules before you enter.¡± A woman spoke, and Mathew shielded his eyes with his hand as he tilted his head back to look up at the wall. At only around ten feet high, it wasn¡¯t a massive wall, but enough that he couldn¡¯t see the town''s interior from where he was standing.


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    The woman was leaning over the top of the wall, wedged between two sharpened points of logs that protruded past it. Blond looked to be in her forties and wearing what Mathew could only assume was a padded jacket layered with thick wool or linen. A spear was resting beside her, the sharp metal of the tip catching the light.


    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m here for the first floor of the Tower. Could you let me in?¡± Mathew replied, and the woman scoffed.


    ¡°Of course you are, Firstie. We¡¯re all here for the tower. Like I said, gotta go over the rules before we let you in.¡± The woman said.


    ¡°Why do you keep calling me ¡®Firstie?¡¯ Name¡¯s Mathew.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t care. What level are you?¡± She called out.


    ¡°One. Oh.¡± Mathew realized where the name came from now.


    ¡°Yeah, everyone coming here is a Firstie until you level up. Until then, don¡¯t expect anyone to learn your name. Now, the rules are simple. There is no stealing, no fighting inside the town, and everyone serves their shift on the walls. If you want supplies, you pay in Aether just like everyone else. Temple services are in the stone building at the center of town. You got all that, Firstie?¡± She finished, sounding slightly bored now that she had gotten a good look at Mathew.


    ¡°Yeah, you the boss or something?¡± Mathew responded, earning himself another scoff and a barked laugh.


    ¡°Yeah, this shift. Like I said, we¡¯re all here for the Tower. Stay out of everyone else¡¯s way, keep your mouth shut and your ears open, and you¡¯ll do fine. Open it up!¡± She called, and the gates began to open with a creaking noise.


    The woman met Mathew on the ground inside the gate. Hefting her spear over her shoulder casually, Mathew frowned as he approached her. There was something off-putting about her, like a warning inside his mind that she was dangerous.


    But of course, she was. She was carrying a spear, for Christ''s sake. But it wasn¡¯t the weapon that gave Mathew the feeling. It was coming from her. It was as if she were bigger than him, somehow, even though he was taller. A prickling sensation was at the nape of his neck, and his stomach clenched.


    The woman immediately noticed his discomfort. Coming forward, she slapped him roughly on the shoulder.


    ¡°Feeling ¡®the buzz,¡¯ are you? Always a laugh when we get a Firstie. One of them pissed themselves in the street when they felt it. I thought they were going to pass out in their piss puddle. You¡¯re not going to do that, are you?¡± The woman joked, eyeing him carefully for signs of wetness.


    ¡°What? No! What¡¯s ¡®the buzz¡¯?¡± Mathew stammered slightly before he recovered. The feeling faded somewhat as he tried to get it under control using deep breaths.


    ¡°That feeling you¡¯re getting, like you¡¯re trapped in a cage with a tiger, and you have nothing to fight it off but your bare hands? That tells you someone of a higher level than you are around. It¡¯ll drive you crazy at first until you get a few more of your own under your belt. Sucks at first, but it gets damn useful. Come on, I¡¯ll show you around.¡± The woman offered.


    ¡°Thanks. You got a name?¡± Mathew asked as they walked down the main dirt path of the small village. It had a worn-down and abandoned feel to it. Most of the house windows were boarded up, with weeds along the walkways and moss growing on the stone and clay tiles.


    Mathew counted at least a hundred people wandering around the town with them, moving from building to building on errands or hanging out chatting on the front steps of homes. There was a large structure to their right, where Mathew could hear a lot of voices shouting and laughing.


    In the center of the town, a stone church rose above all the other houses, the spire visible from where Mathew was walking.


    ¡°Maria. Spearmaiden.¡± Maria replied, waving hello to people as they passed.


    ¡°Nice to meet you. I¡¯m Mathew.¡± Mathew replied politely. It didn¡¯t hurt to try and make friends, especially if this place was as dangerous as he expected.


    ¡°That it? What¡¯s your Discipline, Firstie? Introductions here always include them.¡± Maria explained.


    ¡°Oh. Charlatan.¡± Mathew replied. Maria looked at him for a moment, judging before shaking her head.


    ¡°Never heard that one before. It must be rare, but it¡¯s not a very trustworthy Discipline name. Was Snake-Oil Salesman taken?¡± Maria joked, laughing at herself as she walked. Mathew smiled.


    ¡°Alright, here¡¯s the ins and outs. You can stay in any home that isn¡¯t already taken. There are a few on the west side that are free. August is about two miles down the road; the undead stay inside until nightfall, and then we get busy grinding.


    ¡°Someone will find you when it¡¯s your turn on the wall, but we don¡¯t lean on the Firsties too hard. You guys break too easily. When the sun goes down, find me on the wall and watch, no heroic shit. Last Firstie got himself eaten, and I don¡¯t want to have to watch that again.¡± Maria said, pointing at the empty houses near the wall''s far side.


    ¡°How long have you been here? We¡¯re all doing the same thing, clearing August City?¡± Mathew asked. The Towers had only opened for maybe an hour before he entered, but it seemed like people had been here for weeks, if not months. People seemed settled in what they were doing.


    ¡°Yup, we¡¯re all doing the same thing. I¡¯ve been here for two months, but a couple of people have been here for three. They found the town and the wall and hunkered down, or they died.¡± Maria explained with a shrug.


    ¡°Wait, three months? The Tower only opened an hour ago.¡± Mathew asked his guess about their time here having been confirmed. But it was longer than he expected.


    ¡°Your Tower opened an hour ago. Mine¡¯s been open since last June. Every Earth is different, Firstie. Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll learn. See you on the wall, sun¡¯s setting in a couple hours.¡±

 Chapter 10 – Floor 1: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 10</u> ¨C Floor 1: Part 2


    Mathew came to two critical realizations before dawn arrived.


    First, Emily wasn¡¯t on this floor. As far as he could tell, no one from his Earth was there. He didn¡¯t know why, but it seemed that there were many variations of the first floor, and he was on one of them.


    Mathew wasn¡¯t sure if every floor was like that, but his hope was that there would be fewer deviations as they progressed and he would be able to find Emily.


    The second and more immediate realization came to him as the sun fell. Night on the first floor was terrifying.


    It started with a wail by the treeline, a loud screeching sound that came from thousands of throats, rising and falling on the wind. It put a chill in Mathew¡¯s bones, and an icy feeling spread from his stomach.


    Even the veteran ¡®players¡¯ around him who had experienced this before had grimaces and fearful looks on their faces as they gathered atop scaffolding along the wall¡¯s interior. Gripping weapons in hand, they all stared in the same direction, where Mathew was told that the city of August lay.


    The wails were soon accompanied by the sound of stomping feet and the rustling of trees and brush, the crackling of fallen branches and the scuffing of dirt and rocks by boots.


    The night was pitch black; clouds covered the moon and the stars, and the light of the torches and fires along the wall didn¡¯t extend very far. But he had no trouble spotting the first of the undead as they emerged from the forest.


    Their eyes shone with an eerie red light, forming an extensive line of rubies in the night. There were thousands of them, moving forward with a shambling gate.


    As they came closer, Mathew saw the first as it entered the torchlight. It was a man, his body decayed and rotten. The clothes that it was wearing were covered in blood, long since dried, black and flaky. Its expression was twisted and hateful, and its red eyes stared at the defenders along the wall with the hunger of starvation.


    To match its red eyes, another light shone from its chest above where its heart would be. It pulsated in the night, beating to provide the undead with a mockery of life.


    ¡°Just like a horror movie, you need to destroy their heads and pierce their hearts to put them down.¡± Maria advised him, watching beside him from atop the wall.


    ¡°This is insane. This can¡¯t be real. How in the hell are these things possible?¡± Mathew whispered back in horror as he gripped the top of the wall with a white-knuckled grip to steady himself.


    ¡°Don¡¯t know, don¡¯t care. They always come back every night, no matter how many we put down. When the sun comes up, the bodies burn away. Something in August is recreating them.¡± Maria explained, letting out a huff of air.


    ¡°No one knows? Don¡¯t we have to clear August to go forward?¡± Mathew asked, and Maria shook her head.


    ¡°Groups have cleared August before and moved onto the second floor. It doesn¡¯t make any difference to these things. They just keep coming so another group can fight them. Like an endless game, we¡¯re just here to grind them out until we¡¯re strong enough to clear August.¡± Maria clarified.


    ¡°Grind?¡± Mathew asked, unfamiliar with the gamer RPG slang.


    ¡°Kill them, gather Aether and level up. Rinse and repeat while trying not to die. Stay here, Firstie, I would rather not watch you die on your first night. The best time to grind is before they mob us.¡± Maria said, patting him on the shoulder before seizing her spear.


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    By this time, the first line of the undead had nearly reached the trench in front of the wall. A few were stumbling on the loose ground, righting themselves before moving on. Mathew estimated there were at least a hundred and more on the way. It was a sea of glowing red eyes and hearts.


    With a shout, Maria leapt off of the wall. Clearing the top, she sailed through the air, her spear already pointed downwards as a dozen more people followed. With superhuman strength, she passed the trench and landed in the midst of the undead, her spear already piercing a zombie¡¯s heart.


    With another guttural yell, she tossed the body into a group of others to clear some space.


    Mathew was stunned by the display. How strong was someone of a higher level? It was astounding. Maria must have leapt at least a dozen feet without breaking a sweat. The others were the same. A man with a sword and shield was hewing through the undead like he was cutting wood, methodically and without slowing for a moment.


    Flights of arrows sailed out from the behind the wall, and Mathew heard a loud ¡®bang¡¯ as someone loaded an antique, gunpowder rifle that blew a hole through a line of zombies, taking limbs and gouging chunks of flesh.


    Even more surprising were the shouts of strange names that Mathew assumed were Blessings.


    ¡°Firebolt!¡±


    ¡°Frostbite!¡±


    ¡°Lightning Lure!¡±


    Streaks of reddish-orange fire, bright blue ice and crackling white lightning shot down from the wall toward the undead. Several caught on fire, flailing wildly as they crashed to the ground. Others, frozen in ice, had limbs and body parts cracked off from the brittle cold. A flash of lightning struck a zombie¡¯s heart, piercing the red glow and smothering it.


    Everywhere that the undead fell, a misty blue glow would suffuse the area before gathering into a single point and dispersing. He watched as those who killed most of the undead seemed to have the same blue glow around them.


    He had seen something similar in the rulebook. Was this the vaunted Aether that could be used to grow stronger and purchase more Blessings?


    Even with their superhuman strength and abilities, the undead outnumbered them more than 10 to 1. They were soon surrounded by grabbing hands and gnashing teeth.


    Mathew watched as one warrior who was using a club to bash in the heads of his enemies slipped on a loose patch of earth. In a second, he had three of the undead figures clinging to him, trying to wrestle him to the ground. Only the timely intervention of one of his companions saved him, but he didn¡¯t come out of the conflict unscathed.


    Drenched in blood, the man stumbled back toward the gate.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough, fall back!¡± Maria shouted. The group slowly retreated as they continued to slaughter everything in their path. The gates opened a crack to allow them entry before closing once again.


    Maria and the others who had gone out to fight were panting from the exertion when Mathew came upon them. Straightening her back from where she was hunched over, she lifted her spear again across her shoulder as she met him on the stair leading back to the top of the wall.


    ¡°What happens now?¡± Mathew asked, gesturing to the gates where he could hear the horde of undead banging their fists and bodies against them. It was a frightening sound, and Mathew worried that the gates wouldn¡¯t hold and they would be forced to fight them in the streets.


    Maria merely shrugged, jerking her thumb toward the top of the wall.


    ¡°Now we pick off a few until dawn. They won¡¯t get through the wall or the gate. That hasn¡¯t happened in a while, not since we dug the trench outside. You¡¯re as safe as houses here, Firstie. Come on, let''s go see what you can do. Give you a chance to strut your stuff unless you don¡¯t have a Blessing that can kill an undead?¡± Maria asked curiously.


    They walked to the top of the wall, and Mathew could see an ocean of undead spreading out from the town.


    Some appeared to have just recently died, their bodies almost intact and untouched by rot, but many of them were nearly skeletons, whatever force keeping them together still propelling their bodies forward despite the lack of flesh.


    Everyone on the walls was fighting them off with long spears, arrows or even rocks that they had gathered. Several people were lifting large stones they had collected during the day to drop on their heads, an effective way to kill them.


    Unlike the slaughter that had occurred when Maria and the others were outside the walls fighting, things were slower now. He could see why she went out there. The amount of Aether they were gathering now was nowhere near the amount from earlier.


    ¡°So, are you just going to stand there and let everyone else get that Aether?¡± Maria asked, knocking him on the shoulder with her hand. Shook from the sight of the endless horde of zombies, Mathew nodded before looking around for a target.


    ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s see how this works.¡± Mathew whispered, trying not to think about the undead gathered below, ready to devour him.


    ¡°Um¡­create flames?¡± Mathew muttered, pointing at an undead below him. He waited a second before frowning. Nothing was happening, and the silence stretched awkwardly.


    ¡°Woah, impressive. You really are a Charlatan.¡± Maria commented sarcastically. She patted him on the shoulder before walking away with her spear.

 Chapter 11 – Floor 1: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 11</u> ¨C Floor 1: Part 3


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Maria asked.


    The Spearmaiden had come upon Mathew standing in the field of grass outside the wall in the early morning dawn light. The undead had retreated with the sun¡¯s rising, the bodies they had left behind melting away like shadows.


    Mathew looked up from the pile of leaves and tree branches that he had scrounged together.


    ¡°I¡¯ve finally figured out how to use my Blessing.¡± Mathew replied.


    He had spent an embarrassingly long amount of time the night before trying to use ¡®Create and Control Flames.¡¯ Nothing he seemed to do would work, and even repeatedly reviewing the summary of the Blessing failed to unlock the secret of its use.


    Left without any other choice, he had wasted the night pointing at various things, whispering every word he could think of to ¡®ignite¡¯ a fire when he suddenly had success when he had snapped his fingers at a pile of dry timber someone had stacked for their cooking fire.


    There were rules to the Blessing. He couldn¡¯t burn anything moving or if someone was wearing it. It also required fuel, meaning he couldn¡¯t create a fire on a bare patch of dirt. He also couldn¡¯t control magical flames, limiting him to managing his own fires or the torches lining the wall at night.


    ¡°Oh? Let¡¯s see it then.¡± Maria replied, crossing her arms across her chest. She hadn¡¯t slept yet, and even with the improvements her levels gave her to endurance and stamina, she felt tired. But for some reason, she felt like indulging this Firstie.


    Standing back from the pile, Mathew focused on it momentarily before snapping his fingers.


    With a ¡®whoosh,¡¯ the leaves and sticks caught fire. Flames shot up into the air to almost five feet in height in a flash before settling down to consume the debris Mathew had gathered. A campfire was burning merrily in the field at his feet in seconds.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Maria asked with skepticism. She had seen Blessings that hurled magic across the grassy plain and destroyed the undead. This seemed much tamer in comparison.


    ¡°Really? I just created fire!¡± Mathew shouted incredibly, gesturing to the burning pile in front of them.


    ¡°So can a few other people. The difference is they can do something with it. Hell, I can make a fire by rubbing two sticks together. It¡¯s impressive if we had some marshmallows and needed you to make a fire to toast them, but it won¡¯t get you any Aether from destroying the undead.¡± Maria replied.


    Mathew sighed at the response.


    ¡°The difference is their fire stops burning after a few seconds, while mine keeps going for nearly a minute if I concentrate or until it consumes whatever is fueling it. I could build some pyres around the trench near the wall and wait for the undead to gather around them, then¡­¡± Mathew accentuated the words with a snap of his fingers.


    ¡°Whatever you say, Firstie. Just try not to burn us all in our beds.¡± Maria said as she walked away, waving her hand at him. Mathew stared at her retreating figure for a moment before shouting after her.


    ¡°I could use a hand!¡± Mathew yelled, but Maria kept walking.


    ¡°It¡¯s good that you got two of your own then!¡±


    <u>Page Break </u>


    Mathew sat on a log at the forest''s edge, chewing a strip of jerky and softening it with sips of water from a canteen.


    His inventory contained a week¡¯s worth of rations and a change of clothes. It had been a welcome surprise when he finally opened it this morning to read through the summary of his Blessing again. Wedged between the mundane items, the Tricker¡¯s Coin was listed as well.


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    He had just returned from the Temple, where he found out how much Aether he would need for his first level-up. One thousand units of Aether would let him reach level 2. It would take five levels in total before he could purchase an improvement to his Blessing, making the fire he could conjure bigger and allowing him to create two at once.


    He would also be eligible to buy another Blessing at level five, but the holographic screen on his wristband hadn¡¯t shown him what would be available at that time.


    The ¡®Shop¡¯ and the ability to gain levels were only available within the confines of the Temple walls. He had looked through the items to purchase quickly, seeing various mundane things like food and clothing and weapons and equipment that grew more expensive as he scrolled.


    Without Aether, they were all ¡®greyed¡¯ out, and he couldn¡¯t even see the descriptions. Everything on the second page and beyond had level restrictions, preventing him from knowing the items available at higher levels. He wouldn¡¯t be able to plan ahead.


    Draining the canteen, it disappeared into motes of light once it was empty. With a sigh, Mathew stood up and stretched his weary muscles. He had been gathering tree branches and logs for hours, making a large pile just outside the walls for tonight.


    His plan was to have a row of tinder piles along the trench where he would ignite them once the undead bunched together. The ditch had dirt walls on both sides, protecting the wooden wall from his flames.


    If it worked, he should be able to take out a few undead for their Aether. If it didn¡¯t, perhaps he could convince Maria to give him a hand with a new plan. He had thought about digging a pit and filling it with debris. Once the Undead fell in, he would set fire to the tinder within and burn them.


    But it would be time-consuming and backbreaking work to dig a hole big enough. With Maria¡¯s help, it would go much more quickly, but the Spearmaiden had shown no interest in giving him a hand.


    Lugging a bundle of sticks that he had tied together with a length of cloth he had found in the town, he slowly drudged back to the wall. A few more hours of this and he should be done, and he could catch a few hours of sleep before the undead arrived.


    ¡°Level two, here I come.¡± Mathew muttered, hoping all this was going to be worth it. Like every other challenge he had in life, he would overcome this one as well. He wasn¡¯t planning on spending months on the first floor while Emily became further out of reach.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The night was a near mirror of the last, but there were a few slight alterations this time. Mathew stood on the wall, the same as he did the night before, but unlike his first time, he was ready for what he would be facing.


    The horde of undead emerged from the tree line, their shambling walk slow and uneven. The horrible sound of their moans and screams filled the air and still sent a shiver down Mathew¡¯s spine.


    Maria and a dozen others leapt over the wall, intent on destroying as many undead as possible before they were pushed back through the gates.


    The Spearmaiden had told him that if they were efficient, they could earn as much Aether in that short amount of time as the rest of the night combined. It explained why they took such a risk fighting the undead face-to-face rather than from up high on the wall.


    In only a few minutes, they retreated through the gates, and Mathew was filled with tense nervousness as he watched the hundreds of undead turn into thousands. They began to press up against the wall, banging on the wooden logs and attempting to force their way through the gate.


    ¡°Just a few more feet.¡± Mathew whispered, observing the undead falling in the trench in front of the wall. They scrambled slowly to their feet, the footing uneven from the loose dirt and the debris that he had spent the day gathering. When he felt that there were enough, he focused on the first pyre he had built near the gate.


    Focusing his mind, he raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.


    There was a loud ¡®whoosh¡¯ as fire erupted from the kindling and leaves. The flames reached five feet into the air and nearly as wide. The darkness was abruptly lit, throwing the undead horde into colour and light, where before, there was only grey and shadow.


    Three undead who had been standing on the debris pile were engulfed in flames. Mathew watched as their flesh bubbled and burned. They shuffled forward two more steps before collapsing. The fire he had created consumed them.


    More of the zombies stumbled into the fire, and sweat beaded on Mathew¡¯s brow as he struggled to maintain the blaze. He could feel the heat that had been present in his chest since he had selected his Discipline gradually cool.


    With a gasp, he let go of the spell. He leaned against the top of the wall wearily, his limbs shaky from the exertion.


    He had done it. His hard work had paid off. He had taken out at least three, with a few more injured by the now dimmer fire. Soon, the stomping feet of the undead doused the flames. But he still had a few more piles that he could ignite once he caught his breath.


    ¡°Well Firstie! Colour me impressed. Popped your cherry, did you? We¡¯ll turn you from a Charlatan into a Champion in no time!¡± Maria congratulated him, slapping him heavily on the shoulder as she watched the zombie horde approach.


    With a weary sigh, Mathew looked to the next pyre.

 Chapter 12 – Floor 1: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 12</u> ¨C Floor 1: Part 4


    Mathew took nearly a week to reach the Aether requirements to level up his Discipline.


    The days and nights formed a continuous, monotonous cycle that left Mathew exhausted and half in a daze. During the day, he would gather brush and materials to burn, placing them along the sections of the trench that he had dug deeper and sloped further.


    After a few hours of rest, the sun would set, and the undead horde would arrive. After a few hours of nerve-wracking and terrifying combat, he would consume all his gathered objects and a half dozen or more zombies.


    Counting his Aether gains, he would wait on the wall for the sun to rise and drive the undead away once more. A few more hours rest, and he would be ready to repeat the cycle.


    Mathew felt like a zombie himself, shuffling across the grassy field and through the forest in search of items to burn before returning to the safety of the walls. Even the constant ¡®buzz¡¯ from the other, higher-level people around him barely registered in his tired brain.


    But it had all been worth it. He had gathered nearly twelve hundred Aether, enough for a level-up and some supplies from the shop.


    The Temple walls, made of thick and sturdy stone, enclosed Mathew as he stepped into the silent and empty building.


    It was early morning, and he had just come down off the wall. Most of the others would use the Temple services throughout the day. Only those who were excited about levelling up like Mathew would rush there as soon as they had gathered enough Aether.


    The Temple was empty, save for a single statue at the front of the building. Split into two parts, the sculpture comprised two trees with their trucks intertwined. One was young and healthy, its boughs full of leaves, and Mathew could see stone birds nesting in its trunk.


    The other was a barren husk, long dead and dry. Its limbs were crooked and twisted, giving it a sinister feel.


    The statue represented the two domains of the gods that oversaw this floor: life and death. From Mathew¡¯s reading of the floor summary and his discussions with the other people in town, they theorized that different gods administered each floor.


    The administrating gods even affected the Blessings, Disciplines and Items available for sale in the Temple. Mathew had heard several people bemoan the fact and consider saving their Aether for levelling rather than buying unsuitable Blessings and Disciplines, despite the fact that you couldn¡¯t level a Discipline past five without selecting a new one.


    Shaking away the errant thoughts, Mathew stood in front of the strange statue and raised the silver wristband. The screen appeared, with the additional words ¡®Shop¡¯ and ¡®Level up¡¯ joining the ¡®Status¡¯ ¡®Inventory¡¯ and ¡®Blessings.¡¯


    ¡°Level up.¡± Mathew said, and the screen shifted.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Charlatan (Level 1) -> Charlatan (Level 2)


    Level: 1 -> 2


    Aether: 1179 -> 179


    Attributes


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    Body: 1.2 ¨C> 1.3


    Mind: 1.5 -> 1.7


    Spirit: 0.3 ¨C 0.3


    Confirm?


    ¡°Confirm.¡± Mathew stated, and he felt a heat build within his body once again. It spread across his limbs and through his head before creeping down his spine and gathering above his heart once again. Ignoring the screen, Mathew tried to judge the changes he felt with his new level.


    His thoughts felt clear, like a fog was lifting or a new energy was revitalizing his brain, driving away a lethargy he wasn¡¯t aware of. It was strange. His memory seemed sharper. He could remember the details of his day that hadn¡¯t been apparent at the time.


    If asked, Mathew would find it difficult to describe. He didn¡¯t feel more thoughtful or intelligent, but he knew there were changes. He would need to test it out further.


    His body was much easier to assess. He felt fitter and in better shape. His muscles had instantly gained more tone. He punched the air quickly before hopping from one foot to the other. He seemed to be quicker on his feet.


    ¡°This is significantly better than going to the gym everyday.¡± Mathew mused. After a few more minutes of gauging his Mind and Body enhancements, he raised his wrist once more and went to the ¡®Shop¡¯ screen.


    Most of the items were still ¡®greyed out,¡¯ with only a few available for purchase.


    A single unit of rations, which included a day¡¯s worth of food and a canteen of water, an item that would ¡®clean¡¯ his laundry that he hadn¡¯t tried yet but had seen work, and a few odds and ends like playing cards, pens and notebooks were all he could afford.


    Mathew bought enough rations to last him a week and a few of the cleaning items that looked like a laundry tab that directed him to ¡®snap¡¯ in half and his clothing would be cleaned by magic. Once he was finished, Mathew was as poor as he had been when he first arrived.


    After a week of hard labour and burning undead, he reeked. Taking the laundry tab out of his inventory, he snapped it between his fingers. A surge of magic swept across his body, scouring the dirt and sweat from his clothing and leaving him feeling fresh and clean.


    ¡°The gods could make a killing introducing this to market.¡± Mathew observed. It had even removed the wrinkles and creases from his shirt and pants.


    Closing the screen, he returned to the level-up portion of the wristband.


    ¡°I need¡­three thousand Aether for Level 3.:¡± Mathew read. He had expected it to increase. Maria said that as you gained levels, the price increased along with it.


    Worse, the amount of Aether you gained from the undead decreased as you grew stronger. She assumed it was a way to motivate you to leave a floor and not spend years grinding. At level five, it was barely enough to survive, meaning most people would assault August City at that time.


    ¡°It took me a week to earn enough Aether for Level Two. That means I can assume it¡¯s going to take another two weeks for the next. I¡¯ll be here for months until I can get strong enough to leave. Will Emily do the same? Will she and her mother wait on the first floor before continuing?¡± Mathew asked himself, his voice barely a whisper.


    That was assuming everyone went to a similar version of the first floor. For all he knew, there could be countless variations with different progression times.


    He needed to get stronger fast.


    ¡°At least I¡¯m no longer tired.¡± Mathew muttered. The level-up had refreshed him, leaving him feeling as good as new. Better yet, the minor scrapes and cuts he had on his hands from gathering timber and brush had healed, another miracle of gaining a level.


    Looking around the Temple, Mathew pulled up the wristband information screen to review one final thing. Under the ¡®Blessings¡¯ tab, he found that there were no offerings for new Blessings from the gods. Either he hadn¡¯t earned one yet, or there were none available for him on this floor.


    But his existing ¡®Create and Control Flames¡¯ had an upgraded version.


    Create and Control Flames II


    Allows the user to summon two fires simultaneously while also increasing their size. Fuel consumption is halved, and the distance the user can summon flames is doubled. The duration of summoned flames is determined by the ¡®Mind¡¯ Attribute.


    Cost: 5000 Aether.


    Required Level: Two


    ¡°Pricey. But it is worth it if it reduces how much fuel it uses. Most of my days are spent lugging around timber.¡± Mathew observed. Closing the information screen, Mathew left the Temple.


    He was no longer exhausted and needed to head out to the forest and gather materials for tonight¡¯s fires. He was curious how his new level would affect his control. Maybe he could hold it for longer than a minute now?


    Regardless, it looked to Mathew that he would be in this little town for another month at least. Despite his feeling that he needed to hurry, he didn¡¯t want to rush too quickly. If there were nearly a thousand undead assaulting their walls every night, how many more were waiting for him in August City?

 Chapter 13 – Floor 1: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 13</u> ¨C Floor 1: Part 5


    ¡°You¡¯re leaving now?¡± Mathew asked. His voice was filled with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.


    He and Maria were sitting in front of the house she had claimed for her own, eating breakfast after a long night of battling the Undead. The sun had risen only a few minutes ago, and this was the time they would sit and chat before going their separate ways for the day.


    For Mathew, his daytime usually involved a few hours of sleep and an afternoon of gathering materials for his fires. For Maria, she usually slept until late midafternoon, which would then be followed by a few hours of hard drinking with some companions of hers in a large building converted into a tavern.


    ¡°In a couple of hours. We want to be in August City by noon. Things should be easier at that time, with the sunlight driving the undead back into their hiding holes.¡± Maria said, taking a bite of dried jerky with a grimace.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be in heaven if the next floor offers something better than jerky and crackers.¡± Maria complained, taking a pull from her bottle of hard spirits beside her.


    The shop was lacking when it came to items for sale, with the more premium products being restricted behind higher levels and large amounts of Aether. Someone had set up a still in the town, a lifesaver for the bored players who wanted to drink the hours away that they weren¡¯t fighting or sleeping.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to take some more time to plan this?¡± Mathew asked. It had only been a week since he reached level two, and he didn¡¯t even have half the amount of Aether needed for the next level.


    He still had a month or more on the floor before he could tackle August City, but he had been hoping that Maria and a few other high-level people would hold off a little while and wait for him to catch up.


    That hope had been dashed with her announcement that they were leaving soon.


    ¡°What¡¯s there to plan? We¡¯re all fifth level and capped out. Aether is too thin for us to make any progress now. We should have left last week, but we held off for some of the weaker in the group to prepare. This is as good of a time as any.¡± Maria shrugged off the question, tossing the remaining scraps of her jerky to a nearby bird.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you need a bigger group? There are only fourteen of you. If you wait a few more weeks, you could double that number. You¡¯re going to be clearing an entire city.¡± Mathew pointed out.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter for August City. A bigger group just means more undead. People have watched the clearing parties before, so we reasonably know what to expect. The undead seem to scale with how many you send. Fourteen is more than enough, maybe even too many. You can only fit so many people in those buildings anyway.¡± Maria explained.


    The goal would be to enter dozens of large structures and destroy all the undead you find before night fell. Arriving at noon, they would have over six hours to accomplish their goal or return to the small town to hide behind the walls to try again another day.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. There could be thousands of undead in August City.¡± Mathew replied, wiping away the crumbs of the cracker he was eating that had fallen onto his pant leg.


    ¡°Take it one piece at a time. You work in groups, cycling people to the front and taking breaks in the sunlight. The hardest part is at the end, when the sun¡¯s about to go down. Do you stay and try to finish in time, or play it safely and retreat? You¡¯ll know if we made the right choice if no undead shows up tonight or we come back screaming with our tails tucked between our legs.¡± Maria finished, standing up and stretching.


    ¡°Take care of yourself while I¡¯m gone, Firstie. Oh wait, I guess I can¡¯t call you that anymore. Take care of yourself, Mattie.¡± Maria grinned, slapping him hard on the arm as she walked into her house to grab an hour or so sleep and get ready for the final assault on the City.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°You to.¡± Mathew replied, staring at her closed door for a long time.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew stood on the edge of the forest, taking a break after hauling a large bundle of sticks and branches, when he saw the group of men and women leave the town. Heavily armed, with backpacks and bundles on their backs, the fourteen looked like a company setting out for battle and adventure with no intentions of returning.


    Maria was head and shoulders above the two people around her, the long spear with its iron tip resting against her shoulder. She had added armour to the thick quilted jacket he had first seen her wearing. Wide shoulder and arm pads provided additional protection, and a set of shin guards completed the outfit.


    He watched them for a moment, and Maria turned to look toward the tree line. He caught her eye, and she waved merrily at him, her hand extended far above her head. He returned it and hoped he conveyed just how appreciative he was for her help over the past few weeks.


    Mathew wasn¡¯t sure how he would have handled everything without someone to show him the ropes, calm his nerves, and guide him on what to do. She was right, looking back on his arrival. A level one newcomer like him wouldn¡¯t have made it a single night without others backing him up, and he hoped to return the favour to her one day.


    Wishing them luck, he returned to his task.


    As the sun crept across the sky, Mathew filled the trench in front of the wall with an assortment of tree limbs and leaves, along with a few scraps of wood that he had found discarded in the forest. There never seemed to be an end to the material he could find. It was like the undead, they returned every day.


    He had a decent system working, with designated areas marked by black soot and scorch marks. The struggling undead that would fall into his trap would damage the ditch he had widened and deepened, meaning he had to spend an hour or so every day reinforcing and repairing it.


    But all of his hard work was worth it. With his level increase came increased skill with his Blessing, meaning he could maintain the fire longer and spread its flames wider. He wouldn¡¯t be fighting on the front lines anytime soon, but with adequate preparation, he was as dangerous as any of the other people around him.


    The sun crested the horizon, a slim piece dying the clouded sky a deep red when he finished. Wiping his hands on the legs of his pants, Mathew took a final look at his work before nodding in satisfaction.


    It was hard to believe that he was working in his family¡¯s law firm two weeks ago, reviewing contracts and finding his life incomplete. Now, he was hauling timber to create magical fires that would burn undead zombies for Aether in order to grow stronger.


    It was surreal.


    Chuckling at the thought, Mathew headed back to his house. With Maria and the others destroying the undead in August City, it meant that he would be free for this evening. He could sleep the entire night and have a rare day off tomorrow. Perhaps he would get cleaned up and head over to the tavern for a few drinks.


    Maria was gone, and Mathew would need to find new partners for when he was ready to go to August City.


    He had just begun walking down the dirt road to the tavern with a few of the others who still remained in the town when a noise interrupted their conversation. The horrid wailing sound that was always a prelude for an undead assault erupted in the night.


    But Maria had said that when a group conquered August City and defeated all of the undead there, the following night would be peaceful.


    ¡°They failed.¡± Mathew whispered in disbelief. Looking around at the others who seemed equally as shocked, dozens of people emerged from the tavern where they had been preparing for an uncomplicated night, drinking and laughing.


    Nearly a hundred people, all that remained in the small town, pelted down the dirt road toward the wall. Slinging on armour and equipment that they didn¡¯t think they needed as they ran.


    Climbing the stairs to the scaffolding two at a time, Mathew pushed his way through the crowd to a clear spot along the top. In moments, the shouting from the undead had reached a crescendo as the first figure was visible on the tree line where the road curved toward August City.


    Red eyes glowed in the darkness, and the shambling horde descended the small hill and across the grassy plain.


    Mathew couldn¡¯t believe what he was seeing. Was it possible that Maria had been wrong? Perhaps the undead came regardless of whether they won or lost. Maybe the previous groups that cleared the floor had done something different to earn a reprieve for the town.


    He couldn¡¯t believe that a group as strong as theirs, with Maria and fourteen other level-five people, had failed. It was inconceivable.


    ¡°No, they made it. She was just wrong.¡± Mathew muttered, still holding onto hope.


    That feeling faded when the first undead entered the torchlight, and Mathew could see that they were recently deceased. Wearing the same clothing as they had when they had left, the group of ¡®Players¡¯ that had such confidence in themselves were now assaulting the town they had defended in life.


    Mathew stared at them, his breath short, and a pain gripped his chest. In the center, her quilted jacket ripped and hanging off her body, Maria¡¯s face was twisted with hatred, her eyes glowing with the same red light as her companions.

 Chapter 14 – Floor 1: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 14</u> ¨C Floor 1: Part 6


    Maria and the others had returned to a horrific mockery of life and would not stay dead. They had joined the ranks of the undead, and no matter how many times Mathew burned their bodies or one of the other people in the town cut them down or blasted them away with magic, they would return the next night to haunt and torment them again.


    Mathew incinerated them until nothing remained but ashes, but they returned night after night. What had been horrible and terrifying had morphed into something worse than a nightmare. It had become pure torture.


    He walked slowly through the town, too tired to respond to the greetings of the others. They were all in a similar state. What had happened was unprecedented. No one who died in the past on this floor returned to life. Something different had occurred during the attack on August City, but no one was strong enough or willing to find out what it was.


    All he could do was carry on, destroying the undead and gathering Aether. After another week, Mathew earned enough to level up but chose to upgrade ¡®Create and Control Flames¡¯ to its second tier.


    He could now create two fires while using half the materials. It cut down on the amount of work he had to do during the day and made him more efficient at fighting the undead. But it had the unintended consequence of giving him more free time.


    When he was alone with his thoughts, they were unbearable. Mathew hadn¡¯t experienced someone close to him dying before. He had never been confronted with that kind of loss. Worse, it was right in front of him, staring at him in the face and trying to kill him night after night.


    Shuddering, Mathew drew his cloak closer around himself as he returned to studying his work. He had found that the trench around the town wall only provided so much space for him to work.


    He needed a line of sight to the material he would be igniting, and with the way the wall curved and how the undead mostly approached a single side, Mathew was limited to how many he could destroy at a time.


    Mathew¡¯s solution was to purchase rope from the ¡®Shop¡¯ and attach it to stakes driven deep into the ground. By making a ¡®U¡¯ shape, he could lure a large group of undead into a single spot where he had littered the ground with leaves and tree branches. The rope would burn, but so would a dozen or more of the undead.


    He had tried a miniature version the night before, and it worked well at trapping several of the undead, so he was expanding it.


    The work kept him busy and his mind from wandering to more unpleasant topics. Too bad it couldn¡¯t stop the dreams.


    Last week, Mathew had dreamed of Emily and her mother surrounded by the living dead. They had been ripped apart by teeth and nails, only to return to join their ranks. He had trouble sleeping since then, only risking it when he was so exhausted that he knew the dreams wouldn¡¯t find him.


    Finishing tying the last knot, he ran an eye critically over what he had done, searching for flaws. He gave it a few test tugs to ensure it was secure before returning to the town. He still had to purchase a few things from the Temple and plan for his next level-up.


    Letting out a huff of air that left a cloud of white mist in front of him, he stretched his aching back and walked back to town.


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    <u>Page Break</u>


    Create and Control Flames III


    Allows the user to summon a single fire without the need for combustible material. User can manipulate existing, non-magical flames within sight. The user can control the size and shape of the fire at will. The ¡®Mind¡¯ Attribute determines the duration of summoned flames.


    Cost: 10000 Aether.


    Level Requirements: Four


    Mathew reviewed the Blessing while trying to plan how long it would take him to earn enough Aether. He needed three thousand Aether to reach level three, and it would take him six thousand to level four. By that time, the amount he earned from the undead along the wall would decrease significantly.


    He would need another month to reach level four and another few weeks after that to upgrade Create and Control Flames. Finally, another month after that for level five.


    Mathew sat in the temple, tapping his finger against the wooden floor as he leaned against the stone wall. Could he stay another two months in this town? But what other choice did he have? He didn¡¯t want to rush it, not when Maria and the others had perished trying to clear August City.


    But the thought of staying here for that long was dreadful. Mathew had been here for weeks already, and he had seen a dozen other ¡®Firsties¡¯ arrive. To his surprise, two of them were from his Earth. He had helped them as much as he could, but there was only so much he could do.


    Despite his best efforts, they had lost one the first night after an undead had made it through the gate before they could close it.


    Letting out a sigh, he banged the back of his head gently against the wall. He was interrupted by the moaning wail of the undead, heard even through the thick stone walls of the temple. Dragging himself to his feet, Mathew hurried to the scaffolding, where another night waited for him.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when the moans and screams of the undead reached their peak, Mathew forgot that life existed outside this floor. It was easier, in a way, to ignore Earth and all the people he had left behind.


    Focusing on burning one pyre after another, watching the flesh melt from bones and leaving nothing but ash behind required a unique mindset.


    Now and then, when he was alone in his house in the morning, and he couldn¡¯t sleep, Mathew would laugh until tears came out of his eyes at the thought of trying to explain this hellish floor to people outside the Tower.


    Would they believe him? Would they think he was insane when he described the satisfaction he felt in annihilating his enemy? Would they think he was sick for participating in the betting and the games the defenders had created to pass the time?


    Who could kill the most undead in a given time period? Who could take out a specific creature while leaving the others untouched? How long would it take for him to burn away a body until there was nothing left?


    Maybe they were all a bit insane.


    Mathew snapped his fingers, watching as another pyre near the treeline erupted into a towering bonfire. He had taken to mixing oils, grease and alcohol to his piles of debris. Anything that would let it cling to a body better.


    He was getting better at killing, becoming more creative in how he did it. Sometimes, he would stay up in the mornings, talking with the others and coming up with ideas on how to be more efficient. More often, it was trial and error.


    Mathew¡¯s traps had been a success. He could corral dozens of undead for a few minutes, long enough for him to ignite the pyre and burn them down. Plus, he didn¡¯t have to risk damage to the wall. As he grew stronger, his flames reached further, and it was becoming a problem for those fighting on the wall.


    It''s better to have it at a distance.


    ¡°Mathew!¡± A voice called out. He ignored it, his mind wandering.


    ¡°Mathew! Hey, the sun¡¯s up! You can stop!¡± The voice repeated, and a hand gripped his shoulder. It was one of the other high-level players in the town. He forgot his name, but they used to drink together when Maria was still alive.


    ¡°You alright? You don¡¯t look so good.¡± The man repeated, and Mathew stared blankly at his face for a moment before he remembered. It was Greg from Vermont. But not his version of Vermont, but another one. A multiverse of Vermonts.


    Blinking his eyes, Mathew shook himself out of his daze. Christ, what was happening to him?


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good.¡± Mathew assured Greg. The man stared at his doubtfully for a moment before nodding.


    ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s get a drink.¡±

 Chapter 15 – Floor 1: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 15</u> ¨C Floor 1: Part 7


    A woman appeared in a forest clearing beside a dirt path. She wore a pair of blue jeans, a grey T-shirt and a black windbreaker. Middle-aged, she was thin and looked unhealthy, as if she had been ill for quite a long time and had only recently begun to recover.


    Coughing into her hand from the cold air, she looked around at the new place she found herself in.


    Amanda had entered the Tower of Avarice as soon as it had opened, like many of the people in the long-term hospice facility she had been staying in. Years of smoking had caught up to her, and the doctors only gave her a few months to live. She had been taking care of things, putting her affairs in order for her inevitable death, when a miracle had occurred.


    A man had appeared on television and offered her a chance to live. All she had to do was enter the Tower and obtain the cure.


    The entire experience had been strange and terrifying. The test where she interacted with puppets frightened her to the point where she had to quit without even attempting to find the secret.


    Amanda had been too tired and ill to cross the bridge, forcing her to give up without trying that one either. The only test she had felt she passed was the last one. She had begged the statue to please let her pass, and it had!


    Her reward had been a drink that would soothe her throat and lungs, letting her actually walk without having a coughing fit and a Discipline that let her summon an animal to help her.


    The silver bangle on her left wrist began to heat up and vibrate, revealing words for her.


    Floor: 1


    Summary: The continent of Thassa had once been peaceful. Worshipping the gods of both the domain of Life and Death, the cycle of mortality and rebirth was interrupted. The balance of the world tilted, and the dead began to live while the living died. The Last Temple called to the gods for mercy, and they sent their champions.


    Goal:  As a summoned champion to this world, it is your responsibility to free the city of August from the undead. Once the city is cleansed, the path to the next floor will be revealed.


    ¡°Undead?¡± Amanda whispered, unsure of what that meant. Was it going to be something like the walking skeletons she had seen the kids wear on Halloween?


    Closing the screen, she began to walk down the path. After only a few minutes, she cleared a cluster of trees and could see a town in the distance. There were fewer than a hundred houses, and smoke was coming out of some of their chimneys, making greyish-white puffs in the chilly air.


    She could hear people talking and spotted several people on the walls pointing and waving at her. The sun was nearly setting when she reached a tall, wooden gate that blocked the dirt path.


    ¡°Hold it, we¡¯ve got to go over the rules with you, Firstie!¡± A man shouted, and she could hear stomping and the scuffling of feet. A man climbed up from behind the wall, leaning over the top with one foot braced against the side.


    He was handsome, and his hair was longer in length and wild-looking. He had a smile on his face that Amanda felt was unnerving for some reason. He didn¡¯t seem entirely trustworthy, and she got the impression that he was dangerous.


    Unlike her regular clothes, the man was wearing black pants and an immaculate white shirt with a long, black cloak that made him look like a street magician she had seen perform in Las Vegas once.


    ¡°Alright! Rules are simple. There¡¯s no stealing or fighting the other players in town. Once nightfall comes, everyone stays inside the gate. If you cause any trouble for anyone else, we¡¯ll toss you out the gate and let the undead get you. Clear?¡±


    The man asked as if he didn¡¯t care if she agreed. His smile didn¡¯t reach his eyes, and Amanda wondered if the first person she would meet in the Tower was a psychopath.


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    ¡°Mathew, you could try to put a little effort into your speech. The woman is clearly terrified.¡± Another man interrupted, leaning over the wall. He gave her a much friendlier feeling than the other one. But she was still unsure about him. He looked rough, like he had been having a tough time, and his smile was forced.


    Amanda felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, and she had trouble catching her breath as the two men stared at her.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright. Follow what we do, and you¡¯ll be fine. Come on in. The sun''s almost down. I¡¯m Greg, Poacher, and this is Mathew, Charlatan.¡± Greg explained as the gate opened with a groan.


    ¡°Poacher, Charlatan? What strange last names.¡± Amanda said, walking in through the gate before it closed behind her. The pair of men were waiting. Greg wore a hunter¡¯s camouflage outfit with a plain, wooden bow strapped to his back.


    ¡°Not our last names. Those are our Disciplines. It¡¯s a bit of a tradition around here to add it to your name so people know what you can do. What¡¯s yours?¡± Greg replied, stepping forward and offering her his hand to shake.


    ¡°Oh! Amanda. I¡¯m a Caller.¡± She replied, and Mathew gave her a curious look. She took a step backwards at the stare. The prickling sensation grew worse, and her stomach started to feel queasy as she stepped forward to shake Greg¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Caller?¡±


    ¡°I can summon an animal to help me. I¡¯ve never done it, but that¡¯s what the painting said.¡± Amanda explained, trying to take deep breaths to settle her stomach. Greg looked at her with concern while Mathew smiled like it was funny.


    ¡°You alright there?¡± Greg asked, stepping back as Amanda¡¯s face went white, and she placed a hand over her mouth.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay. It¡¯s just ¡®the buzz¡¯. It happens when you¡¯re around people who are at a higher level than you. Mathew and I are the two of the highest in the town, so it''s no surprise that you¡¯re going to-¡± Greg was cut off as she leaned over and vomited on the street.


    She felt a bit better when the two men stepped back, eyeing her warily for any more sudden vomiting.


    ¡°You take this one.¡± Mathew stated while patting his friend on the back and returning to the wall. Greg watched him depart before turning back to the new arrival.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it. Mathew and I are both Level 4, just shy of 5. It can be a bit overwhelming at first, but you''ll fit right in once you gain a couple of levels. Let¡¯s go get you settled, and I¡¯ll give you a tour.¡± Greg offered.


    Now that it was just the two of them, the feeling of fear and panic subsided, and her stomach settled. They walked around for nearly an hour, with Greg showing her all the facilities and the house where she could stay. The Temple had been a revelation, with its ¡®shop¡¯ and Blessings for purchase.


    ¡°Can I ask you a question? What¡¯s the deal with your friend¡­he seems kind of strange.¡± Amanda asked, and Greg barked out a laugh at the question.


    ¡°You can say that. We all get a little loopy here after a while. It hits people differently.¡± Greg explained, but it only left her more confused.


    ¡°What hits differently?¡± Amanda replied, but Greg only shook his head.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see, the sun is almost set. Just don¡¯t freak out too much. You¡¯re safe inside the walls. Just take your time. No one expects you to fight them all on your first night.¡±


    ¡°Are you talking about the ¡®undead?¡¯ What are they like?¡± She was interrupted by a horrible sound coming from outside the walls. The sun was only a tiny crescent to the west, and someone had started to light torches around the top of the wall, inside the buildings and along some of the roads.


    ¡°Come on.¡± Greg said.


    He brought her back to the wall, where it seemed like a hundred people had gathered to look at something near the trees where she had come from. Whatever was making the noise was getting louder, and she could hear it echoing off the buildings behind her.


    It sounded like moans mixed with screams. The feeling of danger that came when she met Greg and Mathew grew worse until she was shaking. At least her stomach wasn¡¯t bothering her, but she could barely stand.


    At the top of the wall, she leaned on the railing next to Greg as something came out of the trees. Glowing red dots started approaching the town, and when she saw what they were, she screamed.


    It was hundreds of dead bodies walking in a group toward them. The horrible sound was coming from them, and she could see that even though they were deceased and rotting, they had expressions and seemed alive.


    ¡°Oh my god. Deliver us from evil...¡± Amanda began to pray, which only elicited a scoff from Mathew who was standing a little way down from them.


    ¡°Praying won¡¯t do you any good. Who do you think created them and brought you here? We¡¯re doing all this for the gods, and they¡¯re trying to kill us.¡± Mathew stated before his face split into a grin.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start the show.¡± He shouted. With a leap, he landed on top of the wall. His black cloak caught in the wind, and it trailed behind him. He reminded her more than ever of that Las Vegas Magician, putting on an act even with those awful things down below.


    ¡°Bang!¡± Mathew shouted, snapping his fingers at the end of his sentence. With a loud ¡®Whoosh,¡¯ a massive fire erupted in the distance. She could see nearly twenty of those undead clustered together, and he burned them all.


    Again and again, he would shout, snapping his fingers each time to create a fire. Amanda lasted for nearly ten minutes before the sickly smell of burning flesh sent her running toward her house.


    She had heard later that Mathew had stayed there all night, lighting fires one after another. She understood now why he was so strange. Doing that night after night, it would drive anyone insane.

 Chapter 16 – Floor 1: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 16</u> ¨C Floor 1: Part 8


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Charlatan (Level 5) -> Max Level


    Level: 5


    Aether: 3212


    Attributes


    Body: 1.7


    Mind: 2.5


    Spirit: 0.3


    Blessing


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    He had done it. It had taken him over two months of struggling and killing creatures that were already dead, but he had done it.


    Mathew looked at the screen in satisfaction. He had finally accomplished what he needed to leave this floor. He wouldn¡¯t have to stare at the faces of his deceased friends every night, watch their expressions of hatred burn away along with their flesh.


    He could finally go to August City and put an end to this. But would it truly ever end? What he had experienced here would stick with him forever, and it was only the first floor. How bad would the next be, or the one after, if this was how the Tower of Avarice began?


    Greg informed him that the new arrival, Amanda, thought he was insane. Perhaps he was, but she would understand over time. Let her get a few more nights fighting the undead, maybe watching as those she knew in life joined their ranks in death.


    Then, she would understand what was wrong with him. Or perhaps it wasn¡¯t only the stress of being here affecting him.


    Mathew had a theory, and his recent observations of the others only further confirmed it. His idea was that as you gained ranks in a Discipline, you began to exhibit traits that adhered to it. He had only to look at his own behaviour to confirm it.


    He had never been a person to take the spotlight, to leap in front of a crowd and try to entertain them. But since he reached Level 4, he found he craved the attention. Standing on the side of the wall, snapping his fingers to ignite fires that lit the night and drawing the awareness of the others to him, it was invigorating.


    He had thought he was losing his mind, finally driven to madness by the terrible nights and monotonous days, until Greg made a comment that made Mathew take notice. Greg had hated hunting before entering the Tower. He could never bear to kill a housefly, let alone an animal in the wilderness.


    But since he took the ¡®Poacher¡¯ Discipline, he enjoyed hunting. He would shoot birds and roast them on the fire or fish in a stream outside the walls during the day. Greg couldn¡¯t understand why he suddenly felt like doing it, but Mathew did.


    Maria mentioned that she hadn¡¯t been much of a fighter when she was on the outside but on the first Floor? She was a predator, using her spear like it had always been a part of her.


    Perhaps their Disciplines shaped their behaviour, and Mathew could only imagine what the higher-level Disciplines would do to them.


    Closing the screen, Mathew left the silent Temple behind. Returning to the bright, sunny day, he walked over to where Greg was watching the Firstie, Amanda, practice with her summoned dog. ¡®Mavis¡¯ was a medium-sized canine, around forty or fifty pounds, but Amanda assured them it would grow bigger as she levelled up.


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    As a Caller, her animal companion was her only means of protection, but Mathew had his doubts about how effective the dog would be against a horde of undead. Maybe she could fight on the wall when she reached level 3 or 4, but for now, Greg had advised her to throw rocks and drop stones on the undead until ¡®Mavis¡¯ was ready.


    After all, no one was sure what would happen if the dog was injured or killed. Would Amanda be left alone? The dog would appear from motes of light when Amanda summoned it, but there was no way of knowing what would happen, and she didn¡¯t want to test it.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to go scout August City.¡± Mathew said, ignoring the dog and its owner and focusing on his friend. Greg was leaning against the outside of the Temple, nursing a glass of clear liquid that Mathew knew was alcohol nearly as strong as paint thinner, when he reached him.


    ¡°Now?¡± Greg asked, starting forward like he was about to get up before changing his mind. He looked up at the early morning sunlight. They had just finished their time on the wall and would usually take an hour or two to relax and blow off steam before catching some sleep.


    ¡°Now¡¯s as good a time as any. It¡¯s a half-hour walk to August City, and we¡¯ll need to make multiple trips to develop a plan of attack.¡± Mathew reasoned.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to get some sleep first?¡± Greg asked.


    ¡°I won¡¯t be able to sleep, and besides, I¡¯m feeling refreshed from that level up. You don¡¯t need to come with me. I¡¯ll just observe it from the edges and come back.¡± Mathew clarified.


    ¡°Listen, I don¡¯t have a problem with you going during the day, but you¡¯re out to lunch if you think any kind of plan is going to be enough to clear it. Maria and the others took every level five we had and most of the level fours, and they couldn¡¯t clear it. What hope do we have?¡± Greg replied.


    ¡°Bigger isn¡¯t always better.¡± Mathew responded, ignoring the laugh from Amanda at the innuendo. He continued.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got you and me, plus two other level fives. That should be enough. After a few trips, we''ll know if we can do it or not.¡± Mathew argued.


    ¡°And if you wait a few more weeks, we can have another three or four. There¡¯s no rush, Mathew.¡± Greg countered.


    ¡°Tell you what, I¡¯ll flip you for it. Heads we go, tails, we all stay here until we¡¯re old and useless.¡± Mathew retorted, pulling a coin from his pocket and giving it a flick into the air. Greg sneered at the suggestion.


    ¡°Get your cursed coin away from me. I watched you flip it ¡®heads¡¯ forty-seven times in a row. I¡¯m not falling for it like some Firstie. Go and scout it if you want, but I¡¯m not going to August City unless you¡¯ve got a rock-solid game plan. And even then, I think we should wait a week.¡± Greg answered, waving his friend away.


    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll be back by midafternoon. If I don¡¯t make it, just assume I cleared it by myself.¡± Mathew responded, walking toward the now open gates.


    The dirt path led across the grassy plain and to the trees where he had been gathering brush and materials for his fires over the past two months. Beyond it was a small clearing where Mathew had arrived on his first day.


    Passing the spot where new people arrived, the path curved slightly until it reached a wide stream where Greg and some of the others would fish or swim if the day was particularly hot. A small wooden bridge arched over it, and a thick layer of dust had gathered on top of it, evidence of how long it had been since anyone had crossed.


    Marching past, the dirt path gained large paving stones nearly a mile after the stream. Mathew passed a few houses, and nothing remained of the structures aside from burnt remnants. As they fled the undead, someone had set fire to every building outside of August City.


    The day grew warmer, and Mathew could hear birds and cicadas singing in the distance. Even though this world was dead, there was still life to be found.


    Cresting a rise, Mathew caught his first sight of August City.


    Made of stone and wood, the buildings had clay roofed tiles, and the city lacked a wall surrounding it. It bordered a river on its far side, with piers extending into its water. Mathew could see boats still tied to the wharves.


    Someone had started fires here as well. At least half the city was covered in black soot, with gaping holes where buildings used to stand. In the center, a Temple rose higher than all the other structures, save for a large, lavish-looking building that looked like a palace or mansion.


    Mathew couldn¡¯t see a single undead anywhere in sight, but they wouldn¡¯t come out during the day. They were most likely lurking in the buildings, taking refuge there until nightfall.


    He had no idea how many could be down there, but he was confident about one thing. He wouldn¡¯t find out lurking this far away. He needed to get a better look at the city if he was going to come up with a plan to burn it to the ground.

 Chapter 17 – Floor 1: Part 9

    <u>Chapter 17</u> ¨C Floor 1: Part 9


    ¡°How much grain alcohol do we have in stock?¡± Mathew asked Greg immediately on his return from August City. The afternoon sun was hanging in the sky to the west, casting long shadows across the ground.


    ¡°A couple of barrels, plus whatever people have in bottles kicking around. Why?¡± Greg replied. The poacher was still sitting outside the Temple, and Mathew wasn¡¯t sure if the man had even slept that day.


    As the ¡®Body¡¯ stat improved, it increased a person¡¯s stamina and endurance. Mathew had no doubt Greg could stay awake for an entire day and night and not feel the effects much.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to need to dilute it. Not a lot, just enough so we can extend it further while still letting it burn. If we wait for a windy day, we might be able to use the draft to spread it. That guy¡­the weird one who laughs like a hyena, do you know if he¡¯s improved that wind Blessing of his, the one that lets him knock an undead down?¡±


    ¡°Patrick? Yeah, I think he got it to tier two. Why? What are you planning?¡± Greg asked warily. He hadn¡¯t seen Mathew worked up like this before. It was apparent that he had something big planned.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to burn the city to the ground. We won¡¯t need to fight the undead. We¡¯ll drive them out of their holes and let the sun do the work for us. It hasn¡¯t rained in months, and the place is a tinderbox. Half of it is already char, and we just need to finish it off.¡± Mathew clarified.


    ¡°You¡¯re talking about what¡­ making Molotov cocktails? I don¡¯t know if we have enough for that, even if we dilute it. And aren¡¯t those buildings made of stone?¡± Gerg replied doubtfully.


    ¡°The exteriors are, but there¡¯s still a lot of timber there. If we get it going and plan it right, we should be able to set a few good fires. Then, we just tend to them and let nature take its course. We do it early in the morning, right after the sun rises, so we have the whole day. At worse, we pick off a few stragglers after the sun sets.¡± Mathew described.


    ¡°We¡¯ll need to do an inventory of what we have, and I want to take a look at the city as well. I¡¯m not saying ¡®no,¡¯ I¡¯m just not agreeing to anything yet. Let¡¯s talk to the others first.¡± Greg asked.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    They had found a wagon in one of the outlying farms, still in good condition despite being left outside for a while. After scouring the town and a few farmsteads nearby, they had come with three barrels of strong grain alcohol that the ¡®Players¡¯ had been making over the last year or so, long before Mathew had arrived.


    They had even found a few buckets of pitch resin that the locals had been using for weatherproofing their homes and boats that they sailed in the nearby river. They had been using it to make torches around the walls, and it was one of the few crafting materials that the Temple ¡®Store¡¯ also had for sale at level one.


    No one had bought it in bulk since there were much more economical and pressing needs for the Aether instead of buying bucketsful of black tar. But when Mathew suggested to the group that they burn August City to clear it, someone had brought forward the proposal.


    A week after Mathew had first laid eyes on August City, nearly thirty people began marching up the dirt path toward the city again. Ranging from Level two to Level five, collectively, they were much weaker than the expedition Maria had joined a month previously.


    But they weren¡¯t planning on fighting. With the wagon loaded down with diluted grain alcohol, buckets of pitch and hundreds of torches made from tree branches and cloth torn from bedsheets, they were going to set a fire that would put the city to flame.


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    ¡°Do you think they¡¯ll come back? After we burn the city, I mean. If there isn¡¯t anything left of August City, will that mean the floor will clear for everyone?¡± Greg mused, his feet kicking up puffs of dirt as he walked beside Mathew.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I suppose it depends on what was creating them in the first place. Maybe there¡¯s something deep below the city that brings them back? We¡¯ve seen Maria and the others return even when there was nothing left of their bodies.¡± Mathew replied, frowning at the thought.


    ¡°Like a boss or something? If this is similar to a game, then there would have to be a boss. A king undead beneath the city that is making more?¡± Greg contemplated.


    ¡°You¡¯re thinking of a Lich. I doubt there is a Lich beneath August City.¡± Someone else interrupted from the other side of the wagon.


    ¡°Whatever it is, it¡¯ll burn just like all the rest. If we destroy all the buildings and still can¡¯t clear this floor, then we¡¯ll just need to plan again. Besides, I doubt clearing a single city will solve everything. This entire floor is dead, and maybe they¡¯ll just shift the goal for the others.¡± Mathew replied.


    They were silent for a moment before Amanda spoke up. She had reached level 2, and her animal companion had grown in size. ¡®Mavis¡¯ was still too small for her to feel comfortable sending him against the undead, but she didn¡¯t want to stay behind.


    ¡°What do you figure is the point of all this? Even if we clear the city, there¡¯s still another one after that, like Mathew said. Do you think this floor is an entire world? And if it is, are there people here who are hiding, waiting until we rescue them or is everyone gone? How do you fix an entire planet?¡± Amanda inquired, her questions coming one after another.


    ¡°I have no idea. We don¡¯t even know if this is ¡®real.¡¯¡± Mathew responded.


    ¡°It¡¯s real. It has to be. It¡¯s too messed up to be fake.¡± Greg added, and there was a murmur of agreement from a few others around them.


    ¡°Whatever the point is, it doesn¡¯t matter right now. We¡¯ve got a job to do, and once it''s done, maybe we¡¯ll get some answers on the next floor.¡± Mathew cut in, putting an end to the conversation.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The creaking of the wagon¡¯s wooden wheels echoed off the abandoned buildings of August City. The entire place had a desolate and neglected feeling. This had once been home to thousands of people and still was if the undead could be considered as still inhabiting it.


    The wind was coming off the water, channelled through the narrow streets before rushing out the broad open plain that bordered the city.


    The plan was to start the fire on the boats and buildings that lined the river and work their way inland. With the noon sun directly overhead, they had more than six hours to start an inferno before they had to retreat. If they weren¡¯t successful at destroying the city, then they would fight the undead, provided there wasn¡¯t an overwhelming number of them.


    Worst case scenario, they would retreat and start again tomorrow.


    Offloading the wagon by the docks, Mathew picked up a half dozen clear glass bottles of diluted alcohol with rags sticking out of the tops and a few torches. He would use his magic to start the fires, with the materials giving it an extra hand to burn bright and strong.


    Walking down an alley, careful to keep in the sunlight, Mathew peered into every building, looking for a sign of the undead within. But there was nothing. Perhaps they were clustered deep inside, cautious of even a hint of the sun¡¯s grace contacting their defiled bodies.


    Whatever the reason was he couldn¡¯t find them, Mathew didn¡¯t care. He would be happy if he could clear the city without ever spotting a single one.


    Walking a few streets over from where they had left the wagon, he found his target.


    It looked to have once been a stable or an animal pen. There were no horses or animals to be seen, but plenty of piles of dry hay were inside. Some had drifted into the street, forming mounds by some of the nearby houses.


    It was attached to a large building, an inn or an apartment complex, if Mathew was correct. Made of stone with wooden timber to hold it together, its doors and windows were closed tightly.


    Perfect.


    Not bothering to use anything he was carrying, Mathew focused on a large hay pile right in the stable''s center. With a snap of his fingers and a loud ¡®whoosh,¡¯ a bonfire exploded into existence. Crackling merrily, it burned brightly with the amount of mana he was pumping into it.


    The warm feeling in his chest that he associated with his magic began to cool, warning him he was reaching his limits for his Blessing before he needed to stop and take a break. Cutting off the flow of mana, the fire calmed slightly before catching onto another nearby haypile.


    Launching a glass bottle, he watched it sail through the air, spinning slightly as it caught the light. With a loud smashing sound of broken glass, it shattered on the stone of the stable. Instantly igniting from the fire, it quickly spread throughout the entire interior.


    Lighting another one, Mathew picked a new target and got to work.

 Chapter 18 – Floor 1: Part 10

    <u>Chapter 18</u> ¨C Floor 1: Part 10


    Standing on the rise outside of August City, Mathew watched as the roof collapsed on the extravagant mansion or palace that dominated the west side of the town. Sparks were sent skyward as a fountain of flames erupted from within.


    The sun was about to set. The sky above them was streaked with red and orange as the smoke caught the last of the light.


    Mathew¡¯s plan had been more effective than what even he had expected. The entire city was aflame. The few buildings that had appeared to be outside the reach of the inferno were being focused on by torch and fire arrow-wielding arsonists.


    Sitting on the wagon, Greg and Amanda were whispering quietly to each other. Mathew could see their nervousness, and it was a feeling they all shared. He had no idea if this plan would work, if burning the city would count as clearing it or if there would be a horde of undead waiting for them as soon as the sun disappeared over the horizon.


    ¡°Get ready to run.¡± Mathew said unnecessarily.


    Everyone knew that if the undead emerged, they couldn¡¯t be caught in the open. They would need to retreat back across the stream, possibly destroying the wooden bridge in the process to buy themselves more time to get back behind the wall.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to work, Mat. You can feel the heat from here. I can¡¯t imagine anything surviving inside that hellhole. You just gotta have faith.¡± Greg replied, earning a scoff from his friend.


    ¡°It can¡¯t be this easy. There has to be a trick or something.¡± Mathew responded.


    ¡°You call that easy? I¡¯ve never burned down an entire town before, so I have nothing to compare it to, but there was nothing easy about that.¡±


    They had used an entire wagonload of supplies and Blessings to increase the spread of the fires. Combined with the lack of rain over the last few months, they hadn¡¯t had much trouble putting the city to the torch. But it was still a sizable endeavour.


    ¡°We¡¯ll find out in a minute if it worked.¡± Amanda stated, pointing to the rim of the sun that finally dipped below the horizon.


    They waited in silence, the roaring of the fires consuming August City the only sound as light retreated from the world, leaving it in darkness. Mathew strained his ears, waiting for the start of that horrid wailing that always precluded the undead¡¯s arrival.


    But there was nothing. The stars peeked through the smoke and cloud cover above, shining down on a City that had finally succumbed to its death.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s that then.¡± Greg said, sliding off the wagon and looking around at the others.


    ¡°If that were true, then why haven¡¯t we cleared the floor?¡± Mathew wondered.


    ¡°Maybe it needs to burn down completely? Perhaps a few undead are still trapped within, and they haven¡¯t perished yet?¡± Amanda commented, and Greg nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯s it. Once the sun comes up, the rest will be finished. Worse comes to worse. After the fire stops, we go in and mop up any we missed.¡± Greg added.


    ¡°Or maybe we¡¯re just waiting for the ¡®boss¡¯ to appear.¡± Mathew retorted, and the ground began to rumble before Greg could respond. With a loud ¡®crash,¡¯ several buildings toppled in the center of the city. The collapse was followed by a loud roaring sound, a bestial cry that echoed.


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    ¡°Damn it all! You couldn¡¯t get your big mouth shut, Mathew.¡± Greg cursed, hefting his bow and fitting a tar pitch-covered arrow to the string.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The undead that emerged from beneath the streets of August City was massive. Over ten feet tall, it was bulky and oversized. Its face was bestial, with two large horns protruding from its skull. Its bones were visible through enormous, rotten gaps in its skin.


    Standing in the street amongst the flames, it raised its head to the sky and screamed. The noise quickly carried the distance between it and the cluster of humans waiting outside the city.


    Seemingly unaffected by the heat coming off the burning buildings surrounding it, it slowly turned towards their group. Its red glowing eyes focused on them, and Mathew shuddered in fear at the attention.


    ¡°We should run!¡± Greg said, only to be surprised that Mathew shook his head and stood his ground.


    ¡°The wall isn¡¯t going to stop that thing. At least here, we have room to move around. Once it leaves the city, throw everything we have at it!¡± Mathew ordered the group.


    The rumbling continued as each step the creature took shook the ground beneath it. With a lumbering gait, it took off in their direction.


    ¡°It¡¯s slow and clumsy! Spread out!¡± Mathew said, running downhill and to the right of where the creature was approaching.


    ¡°God damn it.¡± Greg muttered, taking off to the left while setting his notched arrow ablaze. The dozens of others followed suit, keeping their distance from each other while readying weapons and Blessings. Once the monster cleared the last of the building, Greg let loose an arrow.


    The projectile streaked through the night sky, arching gracefully before slamming into the undead¡¯s torso. The flames flickered and caught, the burning tar splashing across its skin. Ignoring it, the undead continued forward.


    Another set of arrows stuck, followed by a spear that hurtled through the air with a whine and struck the creature in the leg. Stumbling, it seemed as if it would fall, but it righted itself.


    ¡°Come one. Just a little bit closer.¡± Mathew muttered, carefully judging the distance.


    ¡°Patrick, keep it in place for a moment!¡± He shouted, directing the other man to use his Wind Blessing to keep it in place. A gust of air pushed past them, directed by Patrick¡¯s outstretched hand.


    As a ¡®Forecaster,¡¯ Patrick had access to two Blessings at level four. His second wasn¡¯t helpful for combat since it could only keep rain from falling onto him, keeping him dry even in the worse weather.


    The undead held its hands up, shielding its face from the stinging, ash-carrying wind that suddenly struck it. It was pushed back slightly, its feet digging into the soft ground. Patrick panted at the exertion, having to drop the spell after only a second, but it was enough for Mathew.


    With a snap of his fingers, a fire sprang into existence beneath the giant undead¡¯s right leg. It roared angrily, swiping at the fire while trying to free itself from the flames and the wind. In an instant, it tore through the spell, its body too strong and large to be held for more than a fraction of a second.


    The flames clung to its leg for a moment before fading, leaving the leg black and charred.


    ¡°Hit it again!¡± Mathew shouted, watching the monster rampage. It began swinging its large arms in broad, sweeping motions. Another arrow struck its torso, setting another section alit while a spear drove into its shoulder.


    A brave man wielding a large axe swung at the undead¡¯s damaged leg only to be struck full-on by one of its arms. Mathew watched as the warrior sailed through the air and landed on the ground with a sickly, wet splat.


    Snapping his finger, Mathew conjured another fire, striking the same leg. With a bellow, the undead punched out, hitting a trio of people who had clustered too close together, drawing the attention of the monster. Mathew watched them disappear in a bloody mist.


    For minutes, the group fought to bring down the undead, whittling away at its flesh and limbs and sustaining more losses to their own ranks until it collapsed onto the ground. Firing another arrow into the creature¡¯s head, piercing its skull, Greg dropped his bow in exhaustion at the realization that it was defeated.


    Not satisfied, Mathew set one last fire around its head, burning it away until nothing remained but ashes.


    Floor 1: Complete!


    You have freed August City from the undead menace, earning the gratitude of both the continent of Thassa and the gods who rule here.


    Completion Bonus: One Discipline choice will be randomly upgraded to the next Rarity during your following selection.


    Please proceed to Floor 2.

 Chapter 19 – Floor 2: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 19</u> ¨C Floor 2: Part 1


    A loud ¡®Ding accompanied the burning letters that appeared above all of the player''s wristbands.¡¯ The elevator had returned. Its doors opening in the middle of the grassy plain had appeared from nowhere.


    Mathew had blinked his eyes, and it was there as if it had always been present, but he had just been unable to see it.


    A cheer erupted in the night as those remaining shouted their gratitude at being alive and free from this hellish floor. The thought of being able to sleep at night, removed from the awful screams and moans of the undead, was a heavenly bliss to them.


    Several people didn¡¯t even wait for the others, sprinting the distance to the open doors and disappearing in a flash of white light. Some were more hesitant, saying goodbye to friends they had made before entering in groups.


    Mathew turned to Greg, the only person he had grown close to since Maria died.


    ¡°Take care of yourself. Maybe we¡¯ll see each other on the next floor.¡± Mathew said, sticking out his hand to the other man, who promptly shook it.


    ¡°You too. Try to stay out of trouble.¡± Greg flashed him a grin before setting off toward the Elevator with Amanda and her dog beside him. In seconds, they were gone.


    ¡°Well, here goes.¡± Mathew took a breath and stepped inside the elevator. There was a bright burst of blinding light, and he heard the elevator doors close. Opening his eyes slowly against the glare, it faded to reveal the interior of the elevator.


    He could hear the humming of a motor as it carried him to his destination and faint music from a speaker in the ceiling, although Mathew didn¡¯t recognize the tune. The elevator''s motion told him he was moving, but as seconds turned to minutes, he was left wondering how far he would need to travel to reach the next floor.


    After nearly five minutes, Mathew pulled up the display of his wristband, displaying his status that hadn¡¯t changed since that morning, aside from the amount of Aether he was now holding.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Charlatan (Level 5) -> Max Level


    Level: 5


    Aether: 15212


    Attributes


    Body: 1.7


    Mind: 2.5


    Spirit: 0.3


    Blessing


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    It seems that he had received over ten thousand Aether for either his part in killing the giant undead or burning down August City. Turning to the following sections, Mathew was surprised to see another tab available, wedged between ¡®Inventory¡¯ and ¡®Blessings.¡¯


    He opened the ¡®Judgement¡¯ section with a large amount of curiosity. Who was judging him, and on what criteria?


    The god of Chivalrous Combat is severely disappointed in your actions. They have barred you from obtaining a Discipline from their Demesne during your next selection.


    The god of Blazing Condemnation is exceptionally pleased with your actions and wishes to offer you a boon. A new Discipline will be made available from the Demesne during your next selection.


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    The god of Unconstrained Longevity is indifferent to your destruction of August City. They will not offer a boon for your completion of Floor 1.


    The god of Bound Decay is indifferent to your destruction of the undead within August City. They will not offer a boon for your completion of Floor 1.


    Mathew stared at the screen in silence, wondering how much trouble he could be in if he was ¡®barred¡¯ from a Demesne. The young woman in the lobby had said the gods couldn¡¯t directly influence him, so it shouldn¡¯t be able to make his life difficult. Could it?


    At least he had drawn the attention of another god, making them very pleased. But ¡®Blazing Condemnation¡¯ had a sinister sound to their name. Did they like that he burned the City down? With a title like ¡®Blazing¡¯ in it, he could only assume that was why they offered him a boon.


    Closing the wristband and still trapped in the elevator, Mathew sat on the clean, tiled floor and leaned against the cool metal wall. It had been a long night, and he was exhausted. In moments, his eyes closed, and he fell asleep.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew woke when a loud ¡®ding¡¯ rang out through the elevator. Disoriented for a moment, he thought he was still in the village, behind the wall and waiting for the undead to begin their assault. It took him a moment to realize where he was and what had happened.


    Running a hand over his face, he slowly stood. Stretching his arms and legs, he thought that he must have been asleep for hours.


    By the time he was ready, the doors silently opened, revealing an entirely new world.


    Mathew stepped out into a stone room, barren of everything save a wooden door to his right. It was silent and peaceful, reminding him of the Temple that had given him a similar feeling. Checking his Wristband, he saw that ¡®Shop¡¯ and ¡®Disciplines¡¯ were available, confirming that he was indeed in a Temple.


    Before he could do anything else in the tabs, the image above his arm shifted, displaying a summary of the second Floor.


    Floor: 2


    Summary:  The City of Bellmare holds a festival every decade in celebration of the gods associated with the Harvest Demesne. Six crystals must be gathered before the Harvest Moon, or the crops will wither and die.


    Goal: As the summoned Champion of the gods, you must gather the crystals from the six Houses and present them to the Mayor within thirty (30) days. Failure to do so within the required time will result in expulsion from the Second Floor and the required completion of the ¡®Penalty¡¯ Floor.


    ¡°Penalty Floor? How bad would a penalty floor be if the first floor was fighting a city of undead?¡± Mathew asked, not willing to find out.


    ¡°Alright, find the crystals, give them to the Mayor. Sounds a lot easier than burning down a city.¡± He nodded, closing the tab and opening the ¡°Discipline¡¯ portion of the wristband. Gradually warming on his wrist, a streak of light shot out of the silver bangle, showing three images on the wall.


    The first showed Mathew in white priest robes, holding his hands up in prayer while a pillar of fire fell down on a horde of undead. The bangle offered a description below it.


    Discipline: Preacher


    Rarity: Uncommon (Discipline offered by the god of Blazing Condemnation)


    Attributes per Level:  Spirit +++


    Summary: A bringer of holy flame, you smite down your enemies with divine fire. Your Blessing provides you a portion of their power through your connection to a Patron Deity.


    Unique Blessing: Sacred Flame


    Summary: Divine Radiance of the god of Blazing Condemnation falls upon your foes, burning them with holy fire. Your Spirit Attribute determines the size, duration and intensity of the flame.


    Cost: 15000 Aether


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­.probably not going to pick this one. My Spirit stat isn¡¯t great, and I already have a Blessing that lets me create a fire.¡± Mathew muttered, turning to the following Discipline.


    The next showed Mathew wearing black robes, pointing to an armoured person rushing toward him with a sword raised high above their head, about to slash down at a skeletal hand reaching up from beneath the ground, gripping them tightly.


    Black energy was coursing up from the hand and through the armoured figure''s leg. They were clearly in pain and were screaming in terror.


    Discipline: Occultist


    Rarity: Uncommon (Enhanced by completion boon for clearing a floor.)


    Attributes per Level:  Mind +, Spirit ++


    Summary: You have been around death, felt its power and desired to harness it. Through unholy rituals and magic, you can touch the other side.


    Unique Blessing: Touch of the Undead


    Summary: Summon an undead hand to grip and attack your enemies. Drain them of their life force to prevent their recovery while they are in death¡¯s icy grasp.


    Cost: 15000 Aether


    ¡°What the hell. I¡¯m all about progressing through the Tower, but this seems evil.¡± Mathew said, hurrying past the middle painting. So far, he was zero for two for desirable Disciplines. Hopefully, the last one had something that he wanted.

 Chapter 20 – Floor 2: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 20</u> ¨C Floor 2: Part 2


    The last painting was framed in black wood, cracked and splintered. It showed Mathew running for his life from a crowd of people. He had his hands up in front of his face, screaming with terror. Incredibly realistic, Mathew could even see the tears running down his cheeks.


    The Mathew in the painting wore a black business suit and a white shirt. Pinned to his lapel was a single white feather.


    The wristband displayed the summary automatically.


    Discipline: Coward


    Rarity: Extremely Rare (You have earned the contempt of a god through your actions, granting you the choice of this Discipline.)


    Attributes per Level:  Body ++, Mind +,


    Summary: You are afraid to fight honourably and face challenges as a coward would. The god of Chivalrous Combat offers you this Discipline to mock your behaviour. Enhance your body by running from risk, and train your mind to identify hazards to avoid them.


    Unique Blessing: The Coward¡¯s Brand (Passive)


    Summary: You are so fearful of combat and being harmed by your foes that you have branded your body with a magical symbol to protect it from harm. Using your mana, The Coward¡¯s Brand will make your skin, muscle, and bones resistant to:


    Tier 1: Slashing


    Tier 2: Slashing/Piercing


    Tier3: Slashing/Piercing/Bludgeoning


    Resistance given is determined by Body/Mind Attributes


    Cost: 15000 Aether


    Mathew paused, staring at the painting and Discipline summary. This was intended to ridicule him for not fighting the undead and the statue during the test in a fair and ¡®chivalrous¡¯ manner.


    ¡°That¡¯s absurd. I found a better way to fight, and you¡¯re mocking me for it?¡± Mathew scoffed at the notion.


    Still, this Discipline was appealing. Resistance to attacks? The body stat provided more strength and endurance, and Maria had been able to punch a hole in a stone wall without cutting her hand. But Mathew had been focusing on his ¡®Mind¡¯ attribute. Resistances could be extremely useful, especially since it was passive. He assumed that meant it would be active all the time.


    ¡°Mathew, Coward.¡± He chuckled at the sound. It was more attractive than ¡®Preacher¡¯ or ¡®Occultist.¡¯ He wouldn¡¯t have to worry about people thinking he was about to give a sermon or conduct a ritual sacrifice.


    Besides, he already had an offensive Blessing. He could use something defensive, like the brand.


    ¡°I choose Coward.¡± Mathew declared, and his accumulated Aether plummeted. Switching tabs, he reviewed his new stats.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Coward (Level 1)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 6


    Aether: 212


    Attributes


    Body: 1.9


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    Mind: 2.6


    Spirit: 0.3


    Blessing


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Tier 1)


    Mathew felt a wave of energy surge through his body and out to his limbs. His muscles contracted and spasmed for a moment before the energy returned to his chest. He felt more robust, his mind refreshed. The energy gathered in a single spot near his right shoulder.


    A flash of intense heat seared his skin, causing discomfort but not pain. Pulling the collar of his white shirt, he noticed that he was now wearing a black business suit with a white feather on his lapel. Ignoring the outfit, he lifted the shirt to reveal the symbol beneath.


    It was of a sword flashing downwards. It was black against his white skin like a tattoo, and it glimmered faintly in the torchlight of the room like it was metallic. He could feel it tugging slightly on his mana, drawing it to the symbol and returning it to his chest in an endless loop.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to test it out later, but let¡¯s get out of this room for now.¡± Mathew remarked, fixing his clothing to hide the symbol. He took a step forward and noticed that he wore black, polished dress shoes to match his suit and a bright yellow tie.


    Mathew sighed, flicking the white feather with his hand and feeling that it was securely attached to his jacket. A player could purchase new clothing from the shop, but they were expensive. More often than not, they provided buffs and bonuses, restricting them to higher levels.


    They were also dependent on a player¡¯s Discipline, meaning that whatever was available, Mathew suspected they would stick to a ¡®theme.¡¯


    ¡°Might as well just write ¡®Coward¡¯ in large letters on the back.¡± Mathew muttered, looking over his shoulder to see if it had done just that. Thankfully, it was blank.


    At least the suit was comfortable and high quality, made of wool instead of cheap polyester.


    His shoes make a satisfying click-clack sound on the stone floor as he crossed the room and opened the wooden door. Leading to a long hallway, Mathew looked in both directions for an exit when he felt something to his left. It felt like a pulsating heat, drawing in and exhaling like breath.


    The feeling reminded him of Mana, how it circulated through his body from his chest to his limbs and back again. Curious, he followed the feeling. He instinctually knew that it meant him no harm.


    Coming to another door, he heard murmured voices behind it, rising and falling in rhythm with each other. Gripping the handle, he threw the door open and was greeted by a large interior of a Temple.


    The long hall was filled with people, and their heads were bowed in prayer as a group of purple-robed priests led them in a chant. Their hands were clasped together, and they all faced toward the front of the Temple where Mathew had just entered.


    Above them hung another symbol of the gods. This one was of a bundle of golden grain, tied together with purple string. He assumed that it represented the gods of Harvest Demesne since they seemed to administer this floor if the summary was correct.


    At his entrance, the crowd looked up, and the priests stopped their chanting. Feeling awkward that he had interrupted their sermon, he was about to speak when they started to cheer.


    ¡°A Champion! Our prayers have been answered!¡± The lead priest yelled, throwing up his hands in gratitude as the crowd took to their feet.


    Now that he had a better view of them, he could see that they were dressed like medieval peasants. Plain cloth, with old fashioned dresses and men wearing tunics. Mathew, in his suit, stood out like a sore thumb.


    ¡°Hello, I¡¯ve been summoned to assist the Mayor. Could someone lead me to them?¡± Mathew replied, giving them a smile that he hoped was friendly while nervously eyeing the jubilant crowd who seemed about to charge toward him.


    ¡°Of course, Champion! Of course! Please follow me. The priest who was leading the sermon stepped forward. Wearing purple robes, he also had a large, conical hat with a grain symbol on the front. Coming in front of Mathew, he shook his hand before gesturing him forward.


    Tentatively, observing the priest out of the corner of his eye, Mathew stepped into the crowd, who began to part for him along the center row.


    A long, purple rug ran the length of the hall and as Mathew walked down, the crowd would touch his arms or shoulder and tell him how happy they were that a Champion had answered their call.


    ¡°This is entirely different than the last floor. There must be some kind of trick. Are they all secretly evil or something?¡± Mathew wondered to himself as he passed the crowd and left the Temple through the large, arching doors that remained open.


    There was no way this would be simple, not after what a nightmare the last floor was.


    Mathew came out under a bright yellow sun, the blue sky was free of clouds, and he could hear birds in the distance. The air smelled clean, lacking any of the woodsmoke he had come to expect from the last floor.


    ¡°Welcome, Champion of the gods, to Bellmare.¡± The Priest greeted him, making a sweeping gesture with his arm to showcase the city before them.


    The Temple was on a hill and overlooked a city far more extensive than August City. A large wall surrounded it, with thousands of stone houses and buildings inside. In the distance, Mathew could see a large body of water, either a lake or an ocean.


    Outside the wall, golden fields stretched as far as the eye could see. White sailed boats were tied up on the docks, and several more were visible on the water beyond.


    Bellmare looked clean, prosperous and, most importantly, safe. It was apparent to Mathew that he was walking into a trap.

 Chapter 21 – Floor 2: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 21</u> ¨C Floor 2: Part 3


    As they walked from the Temple steps to the palace of the Mayor of Bellmare, the priest explained the city''s layout.


    The Temple was located on a hill on the city''s eastern side, where five hundred steps carved from stone separated it from the surrounding buildings. It formed the Temple District, along with the houses and buildings supporting the priests and the maintenance of the structure.


    From there, the street split into three directions. One led to the Mercantile District, where various shops, warehouses and the docks were located. The center street led to the Residential District, the most extensive section of the city. Finally, the third path led to the Upper District, where large mansions and homes dominated the space.


    Mathew attracted stares and excited exchanges as they walked down the cobblestone street. Most of the people he met were dressed simply, but some wore silk dresses and outfits. A cart bearing a wealthy-looking couple passed on the other side of the road, but even they craned their heads to look at him.


    Compared to the people of Bellmare, Mathew appeared foreign and alien. Handsome and wearing strange clothing, the rumour of a Champion appearing spread like wildfire ahead of them.


    Leading him to an arched gate with a low wall separating it from the other areas, a pair of guards wearing leather armour and holding spears stood beside it. Letting them pass without saying a word, Mathew could feel the eyes on him as they continued up the street.


    The Buildings became grander, the area cleaner and the quality of the people¡¯s clothing became much better. There were even flowers planted along the road, with tall, well-maintained trees providing shade to those who passed by.


    ¡°Right this way, Champion. The Mayor will have no doubt heard of your arrival.¡± The Priest said, guiding him to a large, three-story house with stone walls and a red clay tile roof. Large banners hung down the sides of the building from the ceiling, each in purple with the golden bundle of wheat displayed on the front.


    Inside, Mathew was greeted by signs of evident wealth. Paintings hung from walls, and statues stood in designated alcoves in the hallways. Going through another set of doors, as guarded as the others, Mathew finally saw the ¡®Mayor¡¯ that he was here to help.


    The Mayor sat in an oversized chair with purple cushions liberally embroidered with gold thread. He was leaning back in his seat, holding a goblet in one hand. The man was exceptionally overweight. Mathew estimated he was tall and at least four hundred pounds, if not more. He was dressed in robes, black with gold stitching.


    A servant stood behind him, cooling him slowly with a large fan in the room''s warmth.


    ¡°My lord, a Champion of the gods has arrived.¡± The priest said, clasping his hands and bowing his head as he stepped aside to let Mathew inside. Standing in front of the massive Mayor, Mathew controlled his features, trying to stifle a frown at the sight of him.


    This was the person he was here to ¡®serve¡¯? He looked well off. Why couldn¡¯t anyone here gather the six crystals that the gods demanded?


    ¡°Ah! Our prayers have been answered. Praise to the gods and their divine mercy. I am the Mayor, Tarkam of Bellmare.¡± The large man said, not even trying to stand up. Mathew didn¡¯t detect any insincerity in his tone, but he got the instinctual feeling that he wasn¡¯t as pious as he was trying to appear.


    ¡°I¡¯m Mathew Larson of Manhattan. New York City.¡± He added belatedly once he realized no one would understand what he was talking about. Then, he realized even by adding ¡®New York,¡¯ they wouldn¡¯t have a clue what he meant.


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    Something bothered him about the Mayor, and Mathew jumped straight in, not wanting to engage with him for longer than he needed to.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been tasked with gathering these crystals for you before the Harvest Moon. Point me in the right direction, and I¡¯ll be on my way.¡± Mathew stated.


    ¡°Ah, Mathew of Manhattan! Bellmare welcomes you! We have been hoping the gods would send a Champion to deliver us, and so you have come. What is mine is yours. Consider this your home while you are here.¡± The Mayor replied, bowing his head slightly.


    The response took Mathew off guard. Taking in the building, the servants and the appearance of the Mayor, Mathew expected a man who would seek to use him, to benefit in some way from his presence. Maybe this Mayor was on the up and up.


    ¡°Thank you, Mayor. The Crystals?¡± Mathew asked after a moment of stunned hesitation.


    ¡°Of course. The crystals! Please bring out the manuscript for Manhattan Mathew to examine.¡± The Mayor asked his fan-bearing servant, who stopped and gave a bow before exiting the room. Returning a moment later, he carried a large book in his arms.


    Placing it on a table before them, the servant flipped it open and gestured for Mathew to come forward and read.


    The book showed six crystal orbs placed on pedestals around an altar with the same bundle of golden grains. A light was coming off of them, forming a halo above.


    ¡°The six Bellmarian Crystals. Given to us by the gods of Harvest after the first blight. Once gathered under the light of the Harvest Moon, they will drive back the affliction that infects our soil and grant us a bountiful crop.¡± The Mayor explained, and Mathew leaned closer to the book to understand better what they were.


    ¡°Alright, and the ¡®Six Houses¡¯ have them?¡± Mathew asked, remembering the summary he had been provided on his arrival.


    ¡°Yes. The gods have granted each House a single crystal in the spirit of cooperation and goodwill. The ritual will only work if each House willingly brings their crystal to the altar to ensure that we are never at odds. For five hundred years, we have never once missed a cycle.¡± The Mayor clarified.


    ¡°Alright, I think I understand. So, what¡¯s the problem? Were the Houses destroyed, and you need me to clear monsters or undead from them and retrieve the crystals?¡± Mathew guessed, and the Mayor had a horrified expression at the statement.


    ¡°Gods have mercy, no! Nothing of the sort. Bellmare is at peace. The Houses are refusing to bring their crystals to the altar for ulterior reasons. They are demanding a Champion negotiate on behalf of the gods. That is why we have prayed for your arrival.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Mathew let out a sigh. ¡°How far away are the Houses? Is thirty days enough time to reach them all and make it back before the Harvest Moon?¡±


    ¡°Of course, the Houses each are in a prominent location of Bellmare. They each control one of our districts. You can visit each quite quickly.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­They¡¯re all in the city? Then what do you need me for? Just go get them yourself! Why do you need the gods to negotiate for them?¡± Mathew exclaimed. He was beginning to think that this floor would be nothing like the previous one.


    ¡°I can¡¯t, Mathew of Manhattan. The crystals must be voluntarily given to the altar, and what they demand for them is not within my power to give.¡± The Mayor said, holding up his hands helplessly.


    ¡°What do they want? Money? Land?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°No, if that were the case, you would not be here. They want change, to be free of the cycle. What we see as a blessing, the eternal ritual to bring about our harvest, they see as a curse.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. What¡¯s so bad about it? So, they have to hand over a crystal every year. That doesn¡¯t seem like such an awful thing.¡± Mathew shook his head, not comprehending the issue. The Mayor shifted uncomfortably on his oversized chair, his eyes flicking to the book and back.


    ¡°Turn the page, Mathew of Manhattan. It¡¯s not the matter of handing over a crystal that is the problem.¡± The Mayor said.


    This new image, along with words in a language Mathew didn¡¯t understand, showed a person being covered in holy light. The next picture showed them changing, shrinking, and transforming into a small crystal.


    ¡°Please tell me I¡¯m misunderstanding. Where do these crystals come from?¡± Mathew asked with dread.


    ¡°The gods choose a member of the House, their very best, to represent them in the ritual. The crystals contain the life essence of the Chosen, taken from them and sacrificed to the gods. Through giving their lives, they ensure that the rest of Bellmare survives.¡± The Mayor explained.


    ¡°You¡¯re asking me to force them to make this sacrifice?¡± Mathew asked, and the Mayor shrugged.


    ¡°The Houses must willingly give the crystals, or it will negate the ritual. If I were to order them to comply or use force, their resentment toward Bellmare would taint the energy. It would be for the best if you could convince them to do so without bloodshed.¡±


    ¡°But as Champion, it is within your power to¡­persuade them in any way you see fit. They would see your actions as the will of the gods, leaving the energy untainted.  That is why we have prayed for your arrival.¡±

 Chapter 22 – Floor 2: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 22</u> ¨C Floor 2: Part 4


    Mathew walked the streets of Bellmare unescorted, although it didn¡¯t matter much. He stood out enough that anyone could track his movements by the crowds. Traffic and activity came to a halt as he passed.


    He needed time to clear his head and think through the problem. But even after a few hours of walking, he was no closer to an answer.


    The expectation from the gods was clear: he was to retrieve the six crystals from the Houses and return them in time for the ritual. If he didn¡¯t, he would be punished. So, his options were to force six others to die or risk himself by entering a floor designed to dissuade him from failure.


    If he were being honest, he would prefer that they die rather than him. He wasn¡¯t a saint, nor was he without a sense of guilt at what he was about to do, but he wouldn¡¯t die for strangers. Besides, the Mayor had made it clear that thousands of people would starve if they didn¡¯t perform the ritual.


    At the end of the day, the choice was simple. Kill six to save thousands. And thankfully, he wouldn¡¯t need to do the deed. He just needed to convince them to go through with it. Maybe he could just remind them of the cost.


    Letting out a deep sigh, Mathew turned to look at the first place he would visit. House Livermore was responsible for overseeing the Mercantile District. They had a large mansion on the waterfront, where they controlled the warehouses and docks.


    Coming upon the building, he noticed that half of it was on stilts, or piles, that held it above the water. A crowd was gathering around the structure. Roughly dressed sailors and merchants in expensive clothing were coming and going.


    The Mercantile District smelled like fish and spices, and there were items on display in shopfronts and at kiosks that Mathew had never seen before. Not having any desire to stay on this floor for longer than necessary, he made his way through the crowd and through the open doors of House Livermore.


    The interior was a combination of office space and a brokerage house. He could see people sitting together at tables, discussing deals with contracts open on the tabletops. Employees bustled about, all wearing similar uniforms with a set of golden scales on the chest.


    All conversation stopped when Mathew stepped inside. The busy employees halted what they were doing and stared at him.


    One young woman was so shocked at his appearance that she dropped a small chest of coins that she was carrying. They crashed to the ground loudly, and the clinking of silver coins filled the room until they finally stilled.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to see whoever is in charge of the House Livermore Crystal.¡± Mathew stated, looking around the room for someone to step forward. Eventually, an older man wearing the same uniform as the others walked toward him.


    ¡°Of course, Champion. Right this way.¡± The man said, leading Mathew to a set of stairs. At the third landing, they reached a set of closed doors with the same set of golden scales on them. Knocking sharply, the man opened them immediately after.


    The room Mathew entered was a large office. Piles of silver coins covered a large wooden desk that dominated the center of the room. Bookshelves line the walls, along with paintings of men and women who all wore similar clothing and bearing the set of golden scales.


    The man who had been sitting behind the desk stood as soon as they entered. Wearing fine robes, he was young and handsome. He had a cocky grin on his face, and Mathew was instantly reminded of a similar type from New York.


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    Young venture capitalists and sons of the city¡¯s elite, with more money than sense. All were looking to make a name for themselves with expensive suits and dining at the finest restaurants.


    In a way, they were similar to Mathew, except they lacked the work ethic. While they were playing at business, he had been working to make a name for himself, separate from his parents.


    Mathew instantly took a dislike to the young man.


    ¡°Champion, I¡¯m Padraic Livermore. I understand why you are here and would like to propose a proposition. Please, sit.¡± Padraic greeted him, gesturing to an empty wooden chair in front of his desk. The employee who had guided him bowed deeply before leaving.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what there is to negotiate. I¡¯ve been sent here to collect six crystals and bring them back to the Mayor before the Harvest Moon. Otherwise, I¡¯m going to be punished. I doubt you could offer anything of interest.¡± Mathew replied casually, taking a seat and crossing one leg over the other.


    ¡°You misunderstand, Mathew. May I call you Mathew?¡± Padraic asked, and Mathew quirked an eyebrow at the man¡¯s casual admittance to knowing who he was. He had only left the Mayor¡¯s house a little while ago. The word carried fast in Bellmare.


    Better yet, if Padraic knew his name, then he also knew that the Mayor had told Mathew to do whatever it took to get the crystals.


    ¡°Yes. Is that it?¡± Mathew asked, pointing to a side table on the room''s far end. A clear crystal was placed on a pedestal. It caught the light, sending rays across the wall and floor around it.


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s the Livermore Crystal. It has been in our House for five hundred years. And has cost five hundred of our lives.¡± Padriac replied, his face creasing in a deep frown.


    ¡°And brought prosperity to your City. The Mayor mentioned something about a blight. I take it your House wouldn¡¯t have survived without their sacrifice.¡± Mathew reasoned.


    ¡°It infects all of our crops, a deep rot within the soil. Without the ritual, everything would die. Even the fish in the lake rely on it to survive. And as I said, you misunderstand. I have no issue with House Livermore making the sacrifice. It¡¯s who that¡¯s been selected that I have difficulty accepting.¡± Padraic explained.


    ¡°And who had been selected?¡±


    ¡°Me. Hence my proposition. By the will of the gods, I have been chosen as a ritual sacrifice, but, as Champion, you may select a new martyr for our survival. I don¡¯t expect you to do so for free. You will be well compensated for your mercy toward me.¡± Padraic said, and his sly grin deepened.


    ¡°I¡¯m not interested. Whatever you have, it¡¯s no good to me. Wealth doesn¡¯t mean much where I¡¯ve come from and where I¡¯m going.¡± Mathew responded immediately. He doubted he could carry it to the next floor, and there was nothing to spend it on anyway.


    The dislike he felt toward Padraic deepened toward loathing.


    ¡°But there is one thing that I have that will interest you. Our records speak of a substance gathered from the prayers and piety of the faithful, condensed into physical form.¡± Padriac opened a drawer of his desk and removed an object.


    He placed it carefully on the top of his desk, and Mathew leaned forward to inspect it closer.


    It was a cube filled with bright blue light. It gave off a feeling of warmth and comfort to him. Mathew felt the mana inside his chest stir in desire for whatever it was.


    ¡°Allow the selection of a new candidate to replace me, and this is yours.¡±


    Mathew¡¯s wristband began to vibrate, and the burning letters appeared when he held it up to his face.


    <u>Padriac offers you a Bargain. </u>


    <u>25000 Aether in exchange for the ability to choose a new sacrifice for House Livermore.</u>


    <u>Do you accept?</u>


    ¡°Aether.¡± Mathew whispered, and the desire in his voice was impossible to mask. Every ¡®player¡¯ had a craving for Aether. It could purchase levels and Blessings, making his body more robust and mind intelligent. It could buy life-saving items and things to help him climb the Tower.


    This Floor seemed like it wouldn¡¯t be a charnel house like the first, but what about the next? Every unit of Aether would help him in ensuring that the subsequent floors would be easier.


    ¡°Who would you select?¡± Mathew asked, licking his dry lips and not taking his eyes from the cube. He didn¡¯t care where Padriac had gotten it. All that mattered was that Mathew needed it.


    ¡°Does it matter? Would it make it easier to accept if I told you it was someone old? Or sickly?¡± Padriac replied, and Mathew could hear the lie in his voice.


    It wouldn¡¯t be anyone like that. It would be someone young and healthy, some hidden requirement which was why Padriac had been chosen in the first place.


    Even then, Mathew was tempted. What did it matter if it was this loathsome jackass in front of him or someone else? A person was going to die regardless. All that mattered was the cube and the Aether inside.


    But why did Mathew feel like he was being offered a deal with the devil?

 Chapter 23 – Floor 2: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 23</u> ¨C Floor 2: Part 5


    The Entertainment District was located on the far west of Bellmare. Most of the establishments there wouldn¡¯t open until nightfall. By the time Mathew finished his business with House Livermore, the sun had already sunk below the horizon.


    To Mathew¡¯s surprise, Bellmare had large oil lamps lighting the streets. Although not as powerful as the electricity-powered illumination he was accustomed to, it was more than enough for the populace to feel comfortable walking the roads and visiting the businesses there at night.


    The Entertainment District was separated from the central city by a large gate with a sign above it. Reading ¡®Welcome to House Wilde¡¯s Entertainment District,¡¯ it showed characters of people in various outfits. Dancers and musicians, firebreathers and circus entertainers.


    Passing under the gate, Mathew was taken aback by the variety of services available. Restaurants and Bars lined the street, each having live music. Another large building was advertising a play, while another was a concert.


    The further he traveled, the more risqu¨¦ the advertisements became. Brothels and bordellos replaced bars and Restaurants. Entertainers, nearly always beautiful men and women, began to wear less clothing, and their songs were more ribald.


    Mathew was in a terrible mood after the events of House Livermore. He felt dirty like his soul was tainted by the proposition. Thankfully, the crystal was tucked safely into his inventory, and although he regretted the loss of twenty-five thousand Aether, he was satisfied with the fact that he could live with his decision.


    As soon as Mathew had declined his offer, Padraic had been ¡®absorbed¡¯ by the crystal without any fanfare or delay.


    Now shining with a bright light, it had been a simple matter to pick up the crystal and place it within his inventory. No one had questioned him when he left. The employees there had merely accepted that House Livermore had fulfilled their agreement with the Champion.


    Standing out amongst the crowd with his modern, expensive, well-fitted suit, Mathew ignored the offers from patrons and businesses trying to tempt him into entering and enjoying himself. He wasn¡¯t here to enjoy himself, and the thought of what he would need to do at the end of this walk put him off any desire for entertainment.


    House Wilde occupied a large casino at the end of the street. Brightly lit and colourfully painted, it called to everyone to enter and enjoy themselves. There were thousands of people milling about, and it seemed like the flow of traffic was inevitably heading there.


    Five stories high and dominating a large portion of the district''s landmass, the Wilde Casino had a set of wide stone steps that led to the entrance. On each, a beautiful woman or a handsome man wearing red and gold clothing was greeting the customers, handing them free tokens or coupons for drinks.


    Halfway up the steps, a young woman walked toward him with a similar outfit as the others.


    ¡°Welcome, Champion. How may House Wilde serve you?¡± She asked, her voice was silky smooth and tone polite. She gave a slight bow at the end.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to see someone about the Wilde Crystal.¡± Mathew explained, and the woman nodded.


    ¡°Of course. Would you like to play one of our many games or enjoy some of our entertainment first?¡± She asked, gesturing to the open doors behind her.


    ¡°Just the crystal, please.¡± Mathew replied, shutting down the option.


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    ¡°Right this way.¡±


    She brought him through the open doors, past rows of games where thousands of people were gathered at hundreds of tables. Mathew saw them playing cards in circles, tossing dice on tables or on the ground. He even saw people betting on marbles, dominoes and a hundred other games that he had no idea how they operated.


    Weaving through the crowd, she brought him upstairs, where even more gambling was happening. On the third floor, a large mob circled a pair of men, barechested and fist-fighting. The crowd cheered with every blow, and Mathew saw coins exchange hands.


    The fourth floor had a variety of animals racing around a circular track. Some doglike beasts practically flew across the ground as people shouted encouragement for their chosen animal.


    Finally, Mathew reached the fifth and highest floor, where dozens of wealthy people were lounging while a group of musicians played instruments on the center stage. The room was filled with the sound of music, conversation and laughter that fell silent as soon as Mathew entered.


    The band continued to play for a moment longer before slowly stopping. He grew uncomfortable as dozens of eyes focused on him. The awkward silence lasted for a moment before it was broken.


    ¡°Welcome, Champion. Several of us had a bet on the order and time you would visit us. I had thought you would wait a few more days and leave House Wilde for third. My sister, however, was convinced you would not delay, although she expected us to be first. I suppose we both have lost.¡±


    A middle-aged man spoke from where he was sitting on a couch. Beautiful Women flanked him on both sides. On another chair, a woman who Mathew assumed was the man¡¯s sister, raised her glass in greeting.


    ¡°I¡¯m here for the Crystal.¡± Mathew replied. This time, it was the woman who spoke.


    ¡°So direct. Fine, to business then. The crystal is here.¡± She stated, pointing to the table in front of them. Like the Livermore crystal, this one was dark and lacked the required sacrifice to energize it.


    ¡°And the sacrifice?¡± Mathew asked, coming closer and taking a seat across from them.


    ¡°To be determined. We hold a lottery, allowing us even chances for anyone in our House to be selected. Unless you would like to make a wager, Champion? It¡¯s why we have asked for you to come, refusing the sacrifice until you bet with us.¡± The woman finished, and her brother smiled broadly, draining his glass and gesturing for a servant to get him another.


    ¡°What¡¯s the wager?¡± Mathew asked, already expecting something to be amiss. Would every House have a proposition, wager or scheme?


    The woman looked to her brother, whose smile turned sinister for a moment.


    ¡°One bet. If we win, you will allow another to take the place of House Wilde to provide sacrifices from now on. We will be free from the obligation.¡± The man explained, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°Alright, and if I win?¡±


    ¡°We will provide the sacrifice with no complaints or attempts to change our fate.¡± He finished, and Mathew immediately shook his head.


    ¡°Why would I agree to that? Not much of an incentive.¡±


    ¡°You will also receive this.¡± The woman said, retrieving a cube and placing it on the table in front of them. Mathew immediately recognized it as either the same cube from Livermore or a similar one they had received.


    ¡°We know that Padraic Livermore offered you this cube in exchange for his life. You are a man of morals, Mathew of Manhattan. We may not know much about the greater universe here in Bellmare, but we know that the gods themselves covet this item. Of course, their Champion would be no different.¡± The woman finished.


    ¡°Do we have a deal?¡± The man asked, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°Fine, but I pick the game we play.¡± Mathew replied, and the man burst out laughing.


    ¡°Excellent! A gambler like us, a brother in spirit to our House! Name the game, Champion.¡±


    Mathew opened the inventory, although it appeared to those in the room as if he just raised his wrist. They could not see his screen or any of the burning words it displayed. He had confirmed that with Padraic.


    With a tap, he summoned the Trickster¡¯s Coin to his hand.


    The Trickster¡¯s Coin. It will always turn up whichever side its owner wills when thrown.


    ¡°A single flip of the coin. You may call it as it is in the air, heads or tails.¡± Mathew replied, holding the coin up and pinching it between his fingers.


    ¡°Agreed, but I will flip it, and neither of us will touch it until it lands on the ground. I want to inspect it first. Please do not think I do not trust you, Champion, but one sees many suspect coins in a Casino.¡± The man said, and Mathew flicked it across to him from where he sat.


    Carefully examining it, the man gave it a few test flips before nodding.


    ¡°Very well. I will flip, and my sister will call.¡± The man said. Placing it on his thumb, he launched it into the air. It spun until it nearly reached the ceiling before arcing back toward the ground.


    ¡°Tails.¡± The sister said, and Mathew smiled.


    ¡®Heads.¡¯ He thought, and the coin obeyed its owner.

 Chapter 24 – Floor 2: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 24</u> ¨C Floor 2: Part 6


    Mathew returned to the Temple to level up immediately after leaving the casino. With the cube worth twenty-five thousand Aether and a crystal charged with the soul of a member of House Wilde, he was already third of the way to clearing this floor, and he had only been here a day.


    Emotionally and spiritually exhausted from collecting sacrifices of living people, he would return to the Temple to level up rather than sleep at the Mayor¡¯s house.


    The less time he spent here, the better.


    Bellmare was an evil place covered in a beautiful and benign veneer. Using the lives of six people every year to fuel their prosperity was abhorrent, made worse that everyone took it as a matter of course.


    Entering the empty Temple just before sunrise, Mathew sat on a pew in the back of the long stone hall and brought up the level-up screen.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Coward (Level 1) -> Coward (Level 2)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 6 -> 7


    Aether Required: 21000


    Aether: 25212 ¨C> 4212


    Attributes


    Body: 1.9 -> 2.1


    Mind: 2.6 -> 2.7


    Spirit: 0.3 ¨C 0.3


    Blessing


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Tier 1)


    ¡°Confirm.¡± Mathew said, and the familiar feeling of warmth swept through his body. Making him stronger and fast, the body stats improvement was immediately noticeable. As for his ¡®Mind,¡¯ the effects were more subtle.


    He could recall every interaction he had on this floor with perfect clarity, but strangely, the previous floor was ¡®fuzzy.¡¯ Some of the faces were blurry, as were the town he stayed in and August City.


    Worse still, his memories of outside the Tower were growing increasingly hazy. Maybe it was just in comparison to the new memories he made with his upgraded ¡®Mind,¡¯ but his life before the Tower felt like a dream.


    Shaking off the thoughts, Mathew closed the screen.


    He would need twenty-eight thousand Aether for his next level up and forty thousand to upgrade his Blessing, ¡®The Coward¡¯s Brand¡¯ to Tier 2.


    Feeling refreshed, Mathew left the Temple and began to trek through the streets toward his next destination.


    Wedged into the corner of the city closest to the wall and farthest away from the Temple, the ¡®Lower East¡¯ District had another name that was far more common and well-used than its official title. The ¡®Slums¡¯ were where the city''s poorer citizens resided.


    To Mathew, it was as easy to find as the docks or the casino had been. All he had to do was follow the signs of destitution. Buildings became older and less grand, the roads dirtier and less maintained until the paving stones turned into dirt and mud.


    Clean clothing in thick wool, cotton and silk turned to hoarse hemp and cloth, often patched or with holes. If Mathew stood out in the other parts of the city, he was like a beacon in the Slums.


    He had grown accustomed to the stares, so with the morning sun just rising to the East, he entered the Lower East District looking for the House of the Destitute.


    Unlike the Livermore¡¯s or the Wilde¡¯s, who were more like families with hundreds if not thousands of extended relations, the House of the Destitute was a Clan. As part of the agreement to join, they would provide shelter and food to its members, but once a year, anyone from the clan could be called upon as a sacrifice.


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    Mathew had no idea what they wanted, maybe a bigger stipend from the municipal government in exchange for providing victims to the ritual? In his brief conversation with the Mayor, before he left, the man had been vague about why they were holding out this year.


    The road eventually turned to mud, and some enterprising individuals had placed planks of wood to create walkways. Even those were covered in a layer of filth, and Mathew¡¯s clean shoes were soon sullied. Ignoring them and the variety of awful smells that were assaulting him, Mathew continued on toward the large building in the area.


    A ramshackle establishment, it was a housing complex that the Clan owned, with their senior leadership occupying most of the space. From here, they distributed food, clothing and other supplies to the thousands of impoverished people of Bellmare, as well as the surrounding areas.


    Walking up the street along the wooden boardwalk, Mathew was stopped by a large gathering of children at the entrance. Ranging from only a couple of years old to teenagers, each of them was wearing warm clothing but showing patches and frays.


    ¡°You the Champion?¡± An older boy asked from where he was sitting on the step, eyeing Mathew carefully.


    ¡°That¡¯s what they say. I¡¯m Mathew. I¡¯m looking for whoever is in charge of the Clan.¡± Mathew replied with a shrug.


    ¡°Are you here about the sacrifice?¡± Another teenage girl asked from where she stood beside a few other children. Her dress looked to have been a bright white when it was new, but it had a yellowish tinge to it now from too many washes over too many years.


    ¡°Yeah. Can you let me through? Or better yet, guide me to whoever I need to see?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Prove it.¡± Another teen said. Standing on the steps, he towered over the others.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Mathew asked, taken aback by the directness of the question.


    ¡°Prove that you¡¯re the Champion. I don¡¯t believe you. I think you¡¯re someone the Mayor dressed up to look like a fool and parade himself down here.¡± The teen challenged.


    Mathew stared at him for a moment, considering, before nodding.


    ¡°Fine, but then you¡¯ll take me to whoever¡¯s in charge.¡± Mathew ordered. Focusing on a clear spot on the muddy road a dozen feet or so away, Mathew snapped his fingers.


    A fire roared to life, reaching nearly ten feet in height. The kids around him jumped in fear, taking a few steps away from him as they stared at the flames. A more adventurous youngster stepped forward, tentatively reaching out her hand toward the conjured fire.


    ¡°It¡¯s warm.¡± She said in surprise.


    ¡°Now, who do I have to see about the crystal?¡± Mathew asked, letting the fire die. The children¡¯s expressions had changed to respect and awe at his capabilities.


    ¡°Wait here, I¡¯ll go get her.¡± The teen who had challenged him said, quickly running up the steps and inside the building. As soon as he was gone, the children bombarded him with questions. He tried to answer them as best he could.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m from a place called New York.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can do other things, and no, I¡¯m not going to show you what.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m twenty-seven! Why would you think I¡¯m hundreds of years old!?¡±


    The questions kept coming, and once the teen from before returned, this time with an older woman in tow, he was relieved to see them.


    The older woman was wearing a sweater and long skirt, both in muted greys and browns. She had white hair, but her face lacked wrinkles. Her hair made her look older than she was.


    ¡°He¡¯s the Champion.¡± The teen said dismissively, gesturing to Mathew.


    ¡°I could guess that, Garrick. Take the others and go.¡± The woman said, letting out a sigh at the comment and waving them all away. Before Mathew could speak, the woman continued.


    ¡°You want the Crystal.¡± She stated, and Mathew knew it wasn¡¯t a question.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to save us all a lot of time. If you want it, you¡¯re going to have to do something for us first.¡± The woman said.


    ¡°Alright, what do you want?¡±


    ¡°Look around you. The City pays us a pittance for our sacrifice. Enough to survive on but not enough to thrive. We want our fair share. The Mayor and his ilk think that we¡¯re just chattel to be used as they see fit. If you want the crystal, we want our fair share of the rewards.¡± She stated.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I can do that. I don¡¯t have much say on how things get distributed.¡± Mathew replied, only for his wristband to vibrate. Burning words appeared above the silver bangle.


    Offer the House of the Destitute their desired share of the Rituals bounty?


    Yes / No


    Note: You will receive no Aether bonus for clearing the Floor if you accept this deal.


    Mathew stared at the words for a moment before lowering his wrist and looking at the woman. He took a deep breath, slowly exhaling.


    ¡°I want to help you. I truly do. But I¡¯ll be honest with you: if I give you what you want, it¡¯s going to make things much harder for me in the future. If I agree to give you your part, what¡¯s in it for me?¡± Mathew asked, cringing slightly on the inside as he said it.


    He felt like he was standing in front of a charity, demanding they pay him their fair share when people were starving all around him. He felt awful, but he didn''t know if he could succeed without Aether and the levels and Blessings it provided. He needed to go further up the tower to find Emily and ensure she was safe.


    And a small part of him also wanted to reach the top for himself.


    The woman stared at him for a moment, judging him, before nodding.


    ¡°Give us our fair share, and I¡¯m sure the gods will respond to your kindness.¡± She said, and his wristband vibrated again.


    (Modified) Offer the House of the Destitute their desired share of the Rituals bounty?


    Yes / No


    Note: You will receive no Aether bonus for clearing the Floor if you accept this deal, but your following Discipline selection will change to reflect your actions.

 Chapter 25 – Floor 2: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 25</u> ¨C Floor 2: Part 7


    Mathew felt exhausted. Even though the sun was directly overhead, and he had level-upped that morning, he was tired. The benefits of Aether could drive away physical fatigue, but it couldn¡¯t repair the weariness he felt in his spirit and soul.


    The sacrifice for the House of the Destitute had been an old man, surrounded by family and friends who would receive a large stipend from his death. Mathew had watched a life compressed and condensed into energy that filled the crystal, causing it to shine with light.


    And no matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it was for the greater good, there was no denying he was watching people die.


    Returning to the Mayor¡¯s House and ignoring the greetings of servants and everyone else inhabiting the building, Mathew collapsed onto the bed in the room given to him for his personal use. He hadn¡¯t even noticed the expensive furnishings or the plate of fruit and pitcher of wine they had left for him.


    Tired, he faded into sleep in seconds.


    Awaking hours later with a start, Mathew groggily stood and opened a shade to discover the sun was about to set. Rather than feeling better, his nap had only made him more tired.


    Worse, he was irritable and in a terrible mood. Deciding that it was best to push on, he left the Mayor¡¯s house and travelled through the Upper District to the site of the next House.


    The University, which had a sprawling campus on the far side of the Upper District, was a haven for philosophers and free thinkers. Teaching arts, science and medicine, House Comte was the patron of the university. They would ensure that every student could study without paying tuition by providing funding and backing.


    In return, a single student would be selected each year as a sacrifice.


    Mathew walked along the extensive paths that meandered through the campus. With flowers and trees, the air smelled like lilac, and massive lawns with closely cropped grass still held students despite the approaching evening.


    Coming upon a group of students sitting on a bench along one of the paths, their conversation stopped as they recognized him as a Champion from his unusual clothing and the rumours flying throughout Bellmare of his arrival.


    His irritation and lousy mood had only worsened on his walk, especially when he thought about what lay at the end of this trip. Another death and he was having more difficulty convincing himself that it had nothing to do with him.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to collect the crystal.¡± Mathew said, assuming everyone would know what he was talking about. A young woman stood from the bench, running her hands across her skirt to smooth non-existent wrinkles.


    Pretty, her hair was done in a long braid.


    ¡°Of course, Champion. You will want to speak with the Dean. She¡¯s in that large building just over there.¡± She said, pointing at a prominent, three-story brick and stone building at the end of the path next to them.


    Nodding his head in thanks, Mathew trekked down the path, ignoring the stares and the whispered conversations of the students he passed. Climbing the stairs to the front entrance two at a time, he moved swiftly through the open doors.


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    ¡°Where¡¯s the Dean?¡± Mathew asked the first student he saw. A stammering young man pointed down a hallway. Following the directions of another half dozen people, Mathew found himself in the Dean¡¯s office on the third floor.


    A beautifully furnished room with bookshelves and a heavy and well-designed desk with a wall of windows that overlooked one of the gardens, the Dean hadn¡¯t been alone when Mathew arrived.


    Three people awaited him.


    The first was a tall, muscular man wearing armour with a golden bundle of grain engraved on the front. A sword was belted to his hip. He didn¡¯t give Mathew the ¡®buzz,¡¯ so he estimated that he was either a level one or below. He had a mustache and a stern expression on his face. He was leaning against the wall when Mathew entered.


    The second was a scholarly-looking older woman with long purple robes and a towering, elaborate hat that swept up and backwards in a curve.


    The last was a Nobleman with silk robes and enough jewelry that left no doubt of the wealth he possessed. His hair was perfect, carefully styled without a piece out of place.


    ¡°Good Evening, Champion.¡± The scholarly woman greeted him.


    ¡°Good Evening, Dean?¡± Mathew asked, and she acknowledged him with a nod.


    ¡°I represent House Comte in these negotiations.¡± The dean replied.


    ¡°And these two?¡± Mathew asked, knowing that they weren¡¯t random guests, nor were they here as lackeys or bodyguards.


    ¡°Marshal Pershing, House Pershing.¡± The warrior replied.


    ¡°Lord Bellmare, of House Bellmare.¡± The nobleman introduced himself with a white-toothed smile.


    ¡°Gentleman, looking to get all of this unpleasantness out of the way at the same time?¡± Mathew asked, not even wondering how the three remaining Houses knew where he was going in order to meet him. Everyone in Bellmare seemed to be tracking his movements.


    ¡°Keeping a united front.¡± The Marshal replied, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°So you all want the same thing. Let¡¯s just cut to the chase: I¡¯m tired and hate it here. I want to get out of your hair as much as you probably want me gone. What is it you want for the three crystals?¡± Mathew asked.


    The three shared a look for a moment before the Dean replied.


    ¡°We wish to have access to the land of the gods.¡± She stated.


    ¡°Sorry, what?¡± Mathew asked, stunned. He had expected they wanted a better share or to pawn off their responsibilities to someone else. This request came completely out of left field.


    ¡°We want the opportunity to travel as you do. We wish the opportunity to become Champions of the gods, to travel the heavens in their service.¡± The Nobleman explained, and it took Mathew a moment to process.


    ¡°You wish to enter the Tower of Avarice?¡± Mathew asked. This time, they were surprised.


    ¡°We know nothing about a ¡®Tower.¡¯¡± The dean revealed.


    ¡°That¡¯s how I entered the ¡®service of the gods,¡¯ as you called it. A Tower appeared where I lived, offering whatever we wanted in exchange for entering and reaching the top. Each ¡®floor¡¯ is a task; this is my second one.¡± Mathew explained.


    ¡°And in serving the gods, you grow stronger?¡± The Marshal asked eagerly. Mathew nodded.


    ¡°If you survive, yeah. I¡¯ll be honest with you: it hasn¡¯t been a walk in the park. People died on the last floor; I expect more will die in the others. If you want this, you need to be prepared.¡± Mathew paused, thinking, before letting out a snort of a laugh.


    ¡°It¡¯s pointless anyway. I don¡¯t have any control over who can enter the tower. I¡¯m just a messenger.¡± Mathew was about to continue when his wristband vibrated. Raising his arm, burning words appeared above it.


    The gods offer their faithful a chance to enter the Tower of Avarice.


    Cost: Double the amount of annual sacrifices required for half the results.


    Accept?


    Yes / No


    Mathew stared at the words silently, wondering if he should even speak them when the Dean interrupted.


    ¡°We accept the cost.¡± She said, and Mathew¡¯s head jerked up abruptly.


    ¡°You can see this?¡± Mathew asked, and the trio nodded.


    ¡°Of course, the words were meant for us.¡± The nobleman replied.


    ¡°You¡¯re task here is complete, Champion. The crystals will be collected immediately, and the ritual will commence at the Harvest Moon. Until then, rest and enjoy your time in Bellmare. You have done us a great service.¡± The Dean said, standing and bowing toward him.


    The others followed suit, and Mathew could only sit silently.


    Why did he feel like he had just done the gods¡¯ dirty work?

 Chapter 26 – Floor 2: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 26</u> ¨C Floor 2: Part 8


    Mathew spent the next four weeks staying at the Mayor¡¯s house, sitting on the balcony of his room and enjoying the culinary expertise of the household Chef and the collection of fine wine that the Mayor had amassed over the years.


    Four boring weeks were spent watching the Tower that had appeared in the center of Bellmare immediately after he had struck a deal with the three remaining Houses.


    It was eerie, seeing the Tower again in a strange city. Mathew was currently inside the Tower, but here he was again, seeing it from the outside.


    Was this a new Tower or a reflection of the same one he had entered in his world?


    The doors to the Tower were closed. They wouldn¡¯t open until after the ritual during the Harvest Moon, meaning he couldn¡¯t re-enter it and try to receive answers to the questions he had.


    The city was filled with excitement, and people were already planning to enter their gods'' service. Despite Mathew¡¯s warnings, he expected tens of thousands of people to rush through the doors as soon as the ritual was over.


    The longer Mathew spent on this floor, the less he cared about the people here. They wouldn¡¯t listen and he couldn¡¯t help them, so what was the point?


    Draining another bottle, he placed it on the table beside him. A servant would periodically take the empties and leave full ones in their place. For his service to Bellmare, the Mayor was more than happy to cater to Mathew¡¯s every need.


    Apparently, Mathew¡¯s efforts were a smashing success, ensuring the city would continue to thrive. He thought he had done very little, but who was he to argue at this point?


    Finally, the night of the ritual came.


    It was a cloudless evening; the sun had sunken below the horizon, and a brilliantly bright full moon hung in the sky above them. To Mathew, it seemed bigger than the moon of Earth, filling half of the heavens beyond.


    Thousands of people were gathered outside the city walls in a space cleared for their use. The priests had set up six pedestals in a circle, with the head priest at the very center. His hands were held up high, and he was leading a chant.


    Standing beside the Mayor, Mathew just wanted it to be over so he could leave. The affair had a creepy atmosphere, made worse by the knowledge that the six crystals he was about to offer were filled with the life energy obtained from living people.


    ¡°Champion, please bring forth the Crystals!¡± The priest shouted, and the crowd cheered. Letting out a huff of air, Mathew pulled the crystals from his inventory. Placing them one at a time on each pedestal, they lit the night with their radiance.


    As he placed the last crystal on its stand, he heard a loud ¡®Ding!¡¯ from around him, and his wristband began to vibrate. A pulse of mana swept over the landscape, soaking into the ground. Mathew could see the crops visibly growing giant and more ripe before his eyes.


    Floor 2 Complete!


    You have successfully gathered the Six Crystals needed for the ritual and have delivered them in time for the Harvest Moon. You have earned the gratitude of the people of Bellmare.


    Completion Bonus: None. You have given your bonus to the destitute people of Bellmare.


    Please Proceed to Floor 3.


    Mathew lowered his wrist, looking around quickly. He spotted the elevator doors outside the gathering of people. Ignoring the Mayor and everyone as they tried to speak with him, Mathew pushed his way to the doors.


    He didn¡¯t relax until they were closed.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    The elevator began to move, and Mathew settled down onto the floor of the lift to wait. The last time, he had been too exhausted to do anything, but he had the opposite problem this time. He had spent weeks doing nothing.


    ¡°Status.¡± Mathew muttered, pulling up his status.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Coward (Level 2)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 7


    Aether Required For next Level: 28000


    Aether: 4212


    Attributes


    Body: 2.1


    Mind: 2.7


    Spirit: 0.3


    Blessing


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Tier 1)


    ¡°Blessings.¡± Mathew switched to a new tab and reviewed the requirements for Tier 2 of ¡®The Coward¡¯s Brand.¡¯


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Tier 2)


    Cost: 40000 Aether


    Summary: Adds ¡®Piercing¡¯ resistance to the Brand.


    ¡°Judgement.¡±


    As it had when he completed floor 1, the ¡®judgement¡¯ tab was back. And, like the last time he had viewed it, it appeared the gods had mixed opinions of his performance in Bellmare.


    The gods of the Harvest Demesne are pleased with your actions. They have not offered you a boon.


    The god of Unprovoked Murder is disgusted with you. They have prohibited other gods from granting you a boon.


    The god of Charitable Equality is delighted in your actions. Their boon has been denied.


    ¡°Thanks. Real helpful. I suppose if I had simply murdered my way through Bellmare, charging the crystals with my victims, you would have been delighted.¡± Mathew scoffed, shaking his head at the comments.


    The lady at the start of the Tower had been right; they couldn¡¯t directly influence him, but they could make life more complicated. But the counterpoint to that was, although one god was disgusted with him, others were happy that he had helped.


    Hopefully, it all balanced itself out.


    Closing the wristband, Mathew didn¡¯t bother looking at the shop. He didn¡¯t have much Aether, and he didn¡¯t really need anything. Most of the magical items were locked behind level 10, and he didn¡¯t need mundane things like food, clothing or random objects.


    He had just closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall of the elevator when he heard it ¡®ding¡¯ again.


    ¡°That was quick.¡± Mathew murmured. The last time, he had slept for what felt like hours. Was this floor closer, or had it been giving him a break before?


    Climbing to his feet, he adjusted his clothing and waited patiently for the doors to open.


    The screaming was the first thing Mathew heard when the doors silently slid open. They were loud enough that even in the bare stone room that he found himself in, he could hear them echoing.


    Joining the screams was the clash of metal on metal, the shouts of anger and loud crashes that shook the room.


    Stepping out of the elevator, Mathew looked around for a moment.


    He was in a Temple, and the familiar feeling of its atmosphere was instantly recognizable. Made of bare stone, it only had a single door. His wristband was still not offering him any insights on what he was supposed to do on the third floor.


    Opening the door, he walked out into a large Temple hall that was filled with people cowering and huddling together. Wearing clothing similar to the inhabitants of Bellmare, Mathew already knew that he was likely in another Medieval-era world.


    Strangely, no one commented on his appearance or his strange arrival. They ignored him as if they had seen his type before.


    Walking through the long, stone hall that lacked any decorations or even symbols of the gods, Mathew exited the Temple to a scene of chaos.


    It was nighttime, and the city in front of him was burning. Buildings were crumbling, and streaks of fire soared through the air from outside a tall stone wall. Each would strike inside, sending up a pillar of debris and flames as they crashed into buildings.


    Mathew could see people running down the streets toward a set of massive, wooden gates that were half open, splintered from a force colliding against them. He could see that they were ¡®players¡¯ like him, even from where he stood.


    Wearing out-of-place clothing and equipment, they were gathered in groups as they rushed to the gates. They stood out from the locals, who were wearing old-fashioned outfits and lacked weapons.


    Standing outside, with the air thick with smoke and the deafening sound of battle and screams of the fearful and the dying, Mathew¡¯s wristband began to vibrate. Fiery words appeared in the air in front of him.


    Floor 3 ¨C Under Siege!


    Goblins have amassed an army and launched an annihilation campaign against their hated enemy, humanity. Falling back to the frontier city of Averatha, the armies of humankind have been broken and, in their desperation, have beseeched the gods for intervention.


    Objective: Destroy the Goblin army and protect the city of Averatha.


    Lifting his eyes from the burning words, Mathew stared at the devastation around him. Through the broken gates, small creatures streamed inside. Welding sharp knives, swords and spears, the short Goblins launched themselves at the defenders.


    Hundreds of people were fighting back, and destructive magic was unleashed by both sides. Hooded Goblins hurled fire and rays of energy at the human defenders.


    ¡°What are you standing there for!? Come one!¡± Someone shouted as a group of ¡®players¡¯ pushed past him. Caught in their midst, Mathew was dragged toward the gates by the tide of people.

 Chapter 27 – Floor 3: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 27</u> ¨C Floor 3: Part 1


    Standing wedged between two of his fellow ¡®Players¡¯ in the Tower of Avarice, a man wearing chainmail armour and holding a sword and shield, and a woman wearing a sweater and jeans who was holding a deck of cards gripped tightly in her hand, Mathew had his first close look at a Goblin.


    The creatures stood around three or four feet tall, ranging in colour from greyish-green to orangish-pink. They screamed and yelled in a language Mathew didn¡¯t understand and fought with a ferocity that he could only compare to savage beasts with no regard for their own well-being.


    They hurled themselves at the defending humans, ignoring wounds that would kill a person in order to take down their enemies with them. They used a variety of weapons, including bows and magic, and Mathew estimated that the creatures were as strong as the Players they were fighting.


    He was being pushed and shoved to the front. The Goblins'' madness was shared by the ¡®Players¡¯ who were incensed by the Aether they were collecting from the monsters. From the snatches of conversation and the shouts of his fellow humans, Mathew gathered that the Goblins were giving large sums of Aether when they fell.


    He could understand the appetite for Aether, the need to grow stronger and better with every level and new Blessing. Still, he didn¡¯t want to throw his life away in pursuit of it.


    The ground around them was covered in human and Goblin bodies, and reinforcements were streaming in from both sides. It seemed there was a continuous flow of new arrivals from the lower floors to this one, all joining the battle.


    ¡°Christ, Emily! Is she here?!¡± Mathew hissed to himself, looking around for a moment for a familiar face. But there was too much chaos, too many people fighting, shouting and dying all around him to find a single person.


    Averatha was a meat grinder, and humans and goblins were fed into it.


    A final shove from behind sent Mathew sprawling onto the ground. The paving stones were wet with water and blood, soaking into his clothes and making him shiver with the cold. As he pushed himself upright, bare greyish-green feet stepped into his view.


    The Goblin towered over him, holding a long knife that was practically a sword to its small frame. Covered in blood, it looked sinister and terrifying in the light of the fires around them. Not hesitating, it leapt toward him, slashing downwards with its weapon.


    Mathew had never been in a fight before, not a proper one anyway. He had burned undead from the safety of the walls or behind a cluster of his companions blocking them from approaching, but he had never been in a close-quarter brawl with an opponent.


    The Goblin, although short and wiry, was all muscle and sinew. Its strength belied its size, and it could stand toe to toe with its larger opponents.


    Time seemed to slow to him, and the descending blade was in stark detail to his eyes. It caught the light on its edge, revealing how terribly sharp it was. On instinct, Mathew threw up his arm to stop the knife.


    It easily slashed through the material of his jacket and the long-sleeved shirt beneath. When it touched his flesh, Mathew felt the Coward¡¯s Brand on his chest burn with mana. The knife sliced through the skin, but rather than easily part tissue to reach the bone, Mathew¡¯s skin slowed the blade like it was cutting leather.


    Mathew had thought the knife would go so far as to sever his arm from the force the Goblin exerted. Instead, it stopped once it struck bone. Surprised by the resistance, the Goblin was a second slow to react.


    Time sped up once more, and as blood began to well from the wound in his arm, Mathew threw his right hand forward, summoning his mana.


    A bonfire erupted in front of him, reaching nearly ten feet in height with red-hot intensity. The Goblin shrieked as it let go of the knife and stumbled backwards, flailing its limbs. Mathew watched its skin char and blackened before it fell to the ground and scrambled away.


    Snatching the knife before it could fall, Mathew regained his feet and let the fire block him from more attackers.


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    With the bloody knife in hand, Mathew let the others fighting around him to move ahead of him. With another snap of his fingers, the fire he had summoned died.


    ¡°Damn it.¡± Mathew muttered. Now that he was safe for a moment, he ripped off a piece of his shirt. Wrapping the white cloth around his arm, it died red in seconds but stopped the bleeding.


    He had to thank the god who had given him the ¡®Coward¡¯ Discipline. It had just saved his life. He didn¡¯t think he could have survived that by just relying on his ¡®Body¡¯ stat.


    With his arm bandaged, Mathew clutched the bloody knife that had almost killed him and moved forward once more.


    It was time to earn his keep. He would need every bit of Aether to survive this floor if an entire army of Goblins were waiting for him.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew sat on a chunk of rubble from a nearby collapsed building. Exhausted and hurting, his arm was in agony from where it had been cut, and his mana had utterly run dry. He doubted he could create a spark, let alone a fire.


    The Goblins had retreated, leaving hundreds, if not thousands, of their dead behind. An equal amount of humans had died, their corpses a mixture of Players and locals.


    It had been a massacre for both sides, and Mathew didn¡¯t know how long either side could keep it up.


    He didn¡¯t know how many Goblins there were outside the gates. He hadn¡¯t had the energy or desire to look beyond the wall or the shattered gates that were now blocked by debris the survivors had piled to keep the enemy out, but he knew there was still a sizable number.


    More people were joining the fight, new players from the lower floors being tossed into the melee all night long until things stopped with the sun¡¯s rise. Apparently, Goblins disliked the sun; they could still fight it in, unlike the undead, but it seemed they preferred night assaults.


    Soon, Mathew would need to go to the Temple for healing. He didn¡¯t know if anyone had a blessing that could do it, but the shop had potions that could seal wounds and heal injuries. They were expensive if what he had heard some of the other defenders say was correct, but he had earned quite a bit of Aether last night.


    The Goblins didn¡¯t die easily, but they were worth their weight in Aether.


    Soon, he would heal and rest before searching the dead and the survivors for any sign of Emily. He couldn¡¯t imagine her here, not in this hellscape. The undead had been evil enough, but there was still a separation from reality.


    This battlefield was too real. The sounds, the smells of blood and death, there was no escaping it. It was right in your face all night long.


    Damn it, he had just arrived and had already seen more death than the months spent on the other floors.


    The worst part, Mathew thought, was that it was starting to not bother him as much. He didn¡¯t know what to think about that anymore. A person should feel something when people were dying around him or when he was killing, but he just felt¡­.numb.


    Mathew leaned against the wall on his piece of rubble and let the sun warm him. The agony of his arm was the only thing keeping him awake; if it were absent, he could have fallen asleep instantly.


    ¡°Mathew, is that you?¡± A voice called out. Mathew¡¯s eyes snapped open, focusing on the speaker.


    ¡°Greg? Good god, you¡¯re still alive?¡± Mathew asked, half in disbelief.


    His friend from the first floor looked as tired as Mathew felt. His camouflage hunting gear was replaced with leather armour and a giant crossbow on his back. He even had a large knife belted to his hip, giving Mathew the impression of a competent adventurer.


    ¡°Barely. I managed to scrape through the last few nights. I¡¯ve taken to hiding on rooftops and picking off stragglers. I thought I saw someone lighting fires last night. I didn¡¯t know it was you.¡± Greg said, flashing him a grin as he sat down beside him.


    It had only been a month since they had seen each other last, but it felt like years.


    ¡°Where¡¯s ¡®what¡¯s her name¡¯? The one with the dog?¡± Mathew asked. The pair had entered the elevator together. He didn¡¯t know if that meant you stuck together through the floors, but it was a possibility.


    ¡°Dead. Didn¡¯t make it through the first night.¡± Greg from Vermont replied, and Mathew felt a twinge of emotion creep its way through the numbness.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Mathew replied, and that was all that there was to say. He didn¡¯t know her well, but they had been on the same floor together. That counted for something. The silence lasted for a while after.


    ¡°Can I ask you a question?¡± Greg asked, his voice quiet.


    ¡°Shoot.¡±


    ¡°Do you regret coming in here? I can¡¯t think of anything else.¡±


    ¡°Every minute. But I¡¯ve got to find someone. Maybe you seen her? Her name¡¯s Emily. She¡¯s about this tall.¡± Mathew raised his hand to where he remembered her height had been. ¡°Blond, blue eyes. She¡¯s with her mother.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ve seen a lot of people, but not many of them stick, you know? I can help you look if you want.¡± Greg replied, and Mathew let out a sigh as he leaned back against the wall.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I would want to find her. Not here, in all this. Maybe there are different routes through the Tower? Maybe we don¡¯t all end up in the same place. What was your second floor like?¡± Mathew asked, curious as to what he experienced.


    ¡°We had to escort a family from one city to the next. There''s not much to it, really. Fought off a couple of groups of bandits, not really a challenge after August City.¡± Greg replied, and Mathew was relieved.


    So they all didn¡¯t experience the same thing each time. Maybe there were only a few communal floors, and there were probably limits on how many people could enter those as well. Maybe Emily wasn¡¯t here and would never experience this.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go get that arm looked at.¡± Greg said, and Mathew wearily nodded.


    Time to get back to work.

 Chapter 28 – Floor 3: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 28</u> ¨C Floor 3: Part 2


    ¡°Ten thousand Aether for a healing Potion, and it¡¯s only good for ¡®light¡¯ wounds?! The shop is a scam.¡± Mathew exclaimed, smearing the bright red potion onto his arm. It was as thick as maple syrup, and he had to tilt the small glass vial over the wound for several seconds before it all came out.


    It flowed into the cut, filling it before slowly being absorbed by his skin. The inflamed wound immediately looked better, as if it had been healing for months instead of hours. In a minute, it was gone, leaving nothing but a white scar in its place.


    ¡°Better that than dying, Mathew. Just don¡¯t get wounded, and you won¡¯t have to worry about a thing.¡± Greg observed while they were leaving the Temple.


    ¡°Come on, I got a spot we can rest at. It¡¯s nothing much, but it''s clean and dry.¡± Greg stated, leading the way through the city''s streets and as far away from the damaged gates as possible. Although the Goblins were unlikely to attack during the day, neither of them wanted to risk being caught next to it while resting.


    While they were walking along the mostly deserted streets, weaving their way through the rubble and around collapsed buildings and great rents in the ground, Mathew asked Greg a question that he hadn¡¯t thought to ask before.


    Generally, they didn¡¯t dig too much into other player¡¯s pasts. It was private, and no one liked to be reminded of what they left behind outside. But after their conversation that morning, Mathew thought that Greg might want to discuss it.


    ¡°Why do you regret coming in here, Greg? Did you leave people behind outside?¡± Mathew asked, nearly wincing at how dumb the question was. If he weren¡¯t so tired, he may have framed it better.


    If Greg was offended, he didn¡¯t show it.


    ¡°Not really. I didn¡¯t have anyone left with me outside. I wasn¡¯t in a good state when I entered. I was a drinker. I am a drinker. After a while, it drives everyone around you away. I figured if I didn¡¯t enter, I was going to die anyway.¡± Greg explained, shrugging his shoulder.


    ¡°Maybe it would have been better to pass peacefully out there, you know?¡± Greg finished.


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Mathew stated sadly. Each floor was worse than the last, and they were only on the third. How much worse could it get?


    They arrived at a small house, the windows and door still intact. It was tucked beneath the wall, with a stone platform above and a wooden crane they would use to bring up supplies if needed. The area looked abandoned. If there were people around, they were making themselves scarce.


    Greg pushed open the door, and the interior was covered in a thick layer of dust. It looked like the family who owned it had left in the middle of the day. There were still personal items scattered about.


    The main area had some furniture and a small kitchen. A set of stairs led to a few bedrooms on the next level.


    ¡°You can take the other bedroom. I¡¯ve been crashing in the master.¡± Greg explained, not even taking off his boots as he walked up the stairs and closed the door to his room.


    Mathew collapsed on a small, single-sized bed with clean sheets and a thin mattress. He didn¡¯t take off his shoes or clothes either, and he was too tired to care.


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    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°This can¡¯t be real.¡± Mathew whispered.


    The pair were huddled on top of the wall, peeking over the battlements to observe the Goblin army in the distance. From the house they were staying in, Mathew and Greg climbed a set of stairs and walked across the top of the wall surrounding the city, staying crouched the entire way so that no one could see them.


    A few other people were with them, all drawn to stare at the enemy.


    Mathew estimated there were over ten thousand of them, possibly more. The Goblins had dug trenches and holes in the ground for shelter, leaving piles of supplies and stolen crates of goods to bake in the noonday sun.


    Catapults and trebuchets were sprinkled amongst the army, explaining the giant balls of fire that Mathew had seen the night before. He wasn¡¯t sure if the Goblins had built or stolen them from the defeated human army. All that mattered was that they were pointed at the city and would be used again once night fell.


    ¡°It¡¯s real alright.¡± Greg whispered.


    ¡°How many people do you think we have?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Just Players? A thousand, probably less. The only good thing we have going for us is that we get reinforcements from the lower floors. The Goblins don¡¯t.¡± Greg replied.


    ¡°Then we should win eventually. We just have to stay alive.¡± Mathew replied, sitting down and leaning against the barricade. Greg snorted, shaking his head as he adjusted something on his crossbow.


    ¡°Easier said than done. We should look at finding a place to set up for the night. Preferably back from the front line. I¡¯ll hinder their movements, and you burn them.¡± Greg suggested, slinging his crossbow across his back and starting back down the wall.


    After a final glance at the Goblin army, Mathew followed.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    They had settled on a sloped roof of a house over a hundred feet back from the front gate. A line of other Players were already waiting for the Goblins to appear. Mathew had taken some time to try and guess their Disciplines, but they were as varied and obtuse as always.


    Some had melee weapons gripped in their hands, wearing armour, while others had bows, spears and even firearms. Those were easy to identify. The strangely dressed people in the back row left Mathew confused.


    One woman held a deck of cards in her hand, flicking them nervously as she watched the gate. A muscular man had a hammer and chisel, although Mathew suspected he wasn¡¯t going to use them to strike his enemies directly.


    A cluster of robed and hooded men and women were clearly magic users like Mathew, protected as they were well behind the main line.


    ¡°Ready? It¡¯s going to start soon.¡± Greg said, loading a bolt into his crossbow and using a small crank on the side to set it.


    ¡°How do you-¡± Mathew was interrupted by the deafening banging of drums. The sound carried over the wall, a rhythmic sound that set Mathew¡¯s nerves on edge.


    ¡°Because they always do that.¡± Greg finished, placing his crossbow on a roof slat and lining its sights with the gate. The veterans, meaning those few who had survived more than a single night in the city, showed signs of nervousness as they all watched the blocked gates with nervous anticipation.


    Bang. Bang. Bang.


    The noise continued until, finally, it stopped in an instant.


    Mathew drew in a breath before there was a thunderous explosion. The debris blocking the gate erupted in fire and smoke; the explosive detonation shook the foundations of the city, and the shockwave rolled over Mathew.


    ¡°What was that!?¡± Mathew screamed.


    ¡°Sappers! Goblins rigged the gates to blow!¡± Greg shouted. Wiping the dust from his face, he looked down the sights of his crossbow once more.


    Screaming, Goblins burst out of the screen of dust and smoke, their weapons raised high as they charged the humans. In moments, both sides were locked into combat. Arrows, bolts and magic spells crossed the distance, striking the Goblins and decimating their ranks.


    With a loud ¡®twang,¡¯ Greg¡¯s crossbow sent a bolt hurtling through the air. It slammed into a Goblin, knocking it off its feet and into another. With a snap of his fingers, Mathew timed it perfectly to catch both in his conjured fire.


    Greg was already setting another bolt, working the crank to draw back the cable and set another bolt.


    Again and again, they worked in unison to bring down the attacking Goblins. But as they fell, so did the players fighting them and the city was once again covered in bodies and blood.


    After only a few minutes of intense fighting, Mathew was already panting. His body was covered with sweat as he focused on burning one Goblin after another.


    He didn¡¯t notice when the black-robbed Goblin mages entered the battlefield, releasing fire and lightning of their own.

 Chapter 29 – Floor 3: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 29</u> ¨C Floor 3: Part 3


    Snapping his fingers, Mathew created a towering inferno of flames that engulfed two more of the small Goblins who were distracted by a fallen player. Satisfied with the results, he was just about to look for a new target when a shout next to him shattered his focus.


    ¡°Look out!¡± Greg shouted, shoving Mathew from the side.


    Not able to maintain his balance on the slippery tiles of the roof, Mathew began to slide down toward the street, over ten feet below. Scrambling to grab onto anything to stop his fall, he had just gripped Greg when another explosion rocked the building beneath them.


    Shattered clay tiles, debris and dust covered them as a giant object, likely hurled from one of the catapults outside the city, struck the side of the building they were using.


    Not able to halt themselves, the pair fell over the side as the building began to rumble, shake and groan.


    Mathew landed heavily on the paved street, knocking the wind out of him. He was struggling to recover when a weight hit him from behind, driving him back down onto the ground. He heard Greg curse when the deafening roar of the collapsing building silenced them.


    Crawling on hands and knees as hard as he could without catching his breath, Mathew nearly made it to the other side of the street when half of the building they were just on crashed to the ground. A massive amount of dust obscured everything, and he could hear nothing but the striking of stone and brick around him for long minutes.


    Huddled against the opposite building, the pair waited for it to stop while shielding their heads with their arms.


    After a few minutes, it finally stopped, and Mathew cautiously lowered his arms to look around them.


    The remnants of the building were sprawled across the street, nearly reaching where they had been huddled. Mathew¡¯s arms and hands were cut and bloody. The amount of shattered stone and brick flying about had been too much for the Cower¡¯s Brand to protect him from.


    Coughing from the amount of dust in the air, he looked over at Greg. The man was grey from the dust, matched with bright red from the blood running down his face from a nasty cut over his eye.


    ¡°You alright?¡± Mathew asked, cautiously regaining his feet.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good.¡± Greg replied, climbing to his feet only to fall back against the wall and clutch his head.


    ¡°Woah, hold on! You took a knock to the head. We¡¯ll need to get you a potion for that.¡± Mathew said, wincing as he examined his companion¡¯s wound. Carefully, he wrapped an arm around him and helped Greg stand upright.


    ¡°We¡¯re blocked off from the front. We¡¯ll go down to the end of this street and cut across to the Temple.¡± Mathew whispered. The debris had effectively blockaded the way to the gates. They could probably climb their way over, but with Greg¡¯s injury, it was better to retreat and take the long way back to the Temple.


    One step at a time, the pair returned to the Temple just as the morning sun was cresting the horizon.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Coward (Level 2) -> Coward (Level 3)


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    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 7 -> 8


    Aether Required For next Level: 28000


    Aether: 33854 -> 5854


    Attributes


    Body: 2.1 -> 2.3


    Mind: 2.7 -> 2.8


    Spirit: 0.3 ¨C 0.3


    Blessings


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Tier 1)


    ¡°Confirm.¡± Mathew said.


    The familiar rush of a level-up swept across him, driving away his tiredness and healing his wounds. He felt refreshed and healthy, revitalized in a way that made him feel like he was back at his peak.


    ¡°Done?¡± Greg asked, looking equally pleased with the results of his own level-up.


    The man from Vermont had gone from ¡®Poacher¡¯ to ¡®Trapper,¡¯ but Mathew still didn¡¯t know the specifics of his Blessings. Greg said they were passives for his crossbow and ability to track targets, but he didn¡¯t go into depth about them.


    ¡°I¡¯m good. Level three Coward.¡± Mathew replied, and his companion scoffed.


    ¡°Coward! I can¡¯t believe you thought that was a good Discipline to choose.¡± Greg mocked.


    ¡°Hey! It already saved my life. It¡¯s worth a little embarrassment.¡± Mathew responded.


    ¡°What¡¯s embarrassing is what you¡¯re wearing. And I don¡¯t just mean the absurdity of wearing a suit in a warzone. You¡¯re wearing rags.¡± Greg said, pulling on Mathew¡¯s open jacket.


    It was riddled with holes and tears. One entire sleeve was gone, and even though he had used a ¡®laundry tab¡¯ to remove the dirt and blood, there was no salvaging the outfit.


    ¡°Like you¡¯re one to talk.¡± Mathew retorted. Greg was in no better shape. They both looked like they had pulled clothing out of a dumpster, with barely a whole piece of cloth between them.


    ¡°At least mine was functional.¡± Greg said, already pulling up the ¡®shop¡¯ function of the wristband. Following suit, Mathew was soon going through the tabs.


    Clothing began with mundane, small items like underwear and socks before going to complete outfits at increasingly absurd prices.


    With only a little over five thousand Aether remaining, Mathew didn¡¯t even bother looking at the magical items that cost well over fifty thousand Aether a piece for the most basic enchantments.


    A t-shirt, jeans, and a heavy and padded jacket with comfortable boots cost him the entire amount he had left, but it made him feel like a human again. Greg, rather than switch things up, bought nearly the exact thing he was wearing before. Only the green camouflage was now blacks and greys.


    ¡°Better?¡± Mathew asked sarcastically as he led the way out of the Temple. The battle had ended only a short while ago, with the results being the same as they were the previous night. A whole plaza¡¯s worth of dead in front of the gates, both human and Goblins, and the stalemate unbroken.


    Already, Mathew could see new players arriving from the lower floors, their dazed and confused expressions a dead giveaway. He wished he could help them, maybe do something decisive to turn the tide, but he was out of ideas.


    He had thought of a repeat of August City, maybe by stacking combustibles and barrels of tar in front of the gates to ignite, but Greg had warned him that they were trying to ¡®protect¡¯ the city. The last thing they needed was uncontrollable fires spreading everywhere.


    Besides that, it had been raining every day for hours, ensuring the ground and everything in the city was soaked.


    ¡°We need to do something. We need an edge, something to make a difference.¡± Mathew mused out loud.


    ¡°The only edge we can get is gaining enough levels to push through these bastards. I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a level cap, not like on the first floor. We survive long enough, and we should be able to end this.¡± Greg replied.


    ¡°You mean ¡®if¡¯ we survive long enough. We¡¯re going to need a new place to fight tonight. Any ideas?¡± Mathew countered


    ¡°Not on a rooftop. I¡¯m not fond of falling. Maybe we set up on that pile of debris we left behind? Stack some more, and make it into a fortification. If things get hairy, we can always retreat through a nearby building or down the streets.¡± Greg clarified.


    ¡°It¡¯s better than nothing. I¡¯m a Coward, remember? Anywhere that I can run away is perfect for me.¡±


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s check it out and then get some rest.¡± Greg said while chuckling at the comment. He led the way to where they had nearly died the night before.


    The wreckage was sobering to see in the grey light of day. The rain had removed all the dust in the air, leaving everything plain to see. Large chunks of the building were on top of a hill of debris, with the smaller and more loose materials on the bottom.


    After a few hours, they had a setup they could live with. A steep slope led to a large beam and some stones they had placed together that they could hide behind. If a Goblin wanted to reach them, it would need to climb up six or seven feet of loose debris so that they would have difficulty finding footing.


    Tired but content, they returned to their borrowed home to rest for the coming night. Hopefully, the Goblins wouldn¡¯t have any new surprises for them.


    It was a na?ve hope.

 Chapter 30 – Floor 3: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 30</u> ¨C Floor 3: Part 4


    On the third night, the Goblins used ¡®Wargs,¡¯ giant wolflike beasts that they rode into battle. As soon as they had breached the hastily repaired gates, dozens of the creatures entered with their Goblin riders wielding long spears and massive, curved swords.


    The human defenders hadn¡¯t seen anything like it before, and by the time they had been driven back after running rampant through the city, hundreds of Players had fallen.


    Mathew and Greg had huddled behind their makeshift barricade, improved upon by blazing bonfires that Mathew conjured to keep the Wargs away. Once the riders retreated, waves of Goblins on foot began to carve their way through the survivors.


    If it hadn¡¯t been for the timely arrival of the sun, Mathew doubted there would have been anyone left in another hour.


    Luckily, an influx of new arrivals from the lower floors bolstered their numbers. After the locals had cleared away the bodies of the dead and carted the wounded to the Temple, they had gotten to work on the gates once more.


    This time, Mathew and Greg added long stakes in front of their defences to prevent the Wargs from reaching them, and others adopted their tactic about the city.


    The fourth night was only silence after the sun had gone down. It was maddening, and for a long hour, no drums or shouts interrupted it.


    That was the night the Goblins tried something different. Rather than breach the gate, they used their sappers to blow up a section of the wall at the rear of the city. By the time the humans could respond, Goblins were everywhere. They ran uncontested through the streets, slaughtering everything in sight.


    Mathew and Greg, now veterans of the battlefield, immediately fled their position. Neither were ashamed of their actions, not when there were hundreds of Goblins rushing toward them. The only thing that had spared the pair¡¯s lives was a healthy head start and a knowledge of the city¡¯s layout that they had gained over the past few days.


    Barricaded inside the Temple with the few people left alive, they had thought they would have to make their last stand when dawn¡¯s arrival put flight to the Goblins.


    Neither had a doubt that the fifth night was going to be their last.


    With the Aether obtained from the fighting, Greg had levelled up while Mathew had purchased ¡®The Coward¡¯s Brand (Tier 2), granting him piercing resistance along with slashing. He doubted it would do much against thousands of Goblins and their weapons.


    Sat on the steps of the Temple in the dawn¡¯s light, the pair waited without hope for night¡¯s arrival and the final end of Averatha.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Samuel Johnson had been a dedicated servant of the law, his community and to his faith for his entire life. He had been a police officer before retiring at sixty-five. Married with three children, he had raised them the best way he could, and he was happy when they had kids of their own.


    He was content with his life, and even when he lost his wife a decade before, he wouldn¡¯t change a thing.


    At ninety years old, his body failing and his eyesight nearly gone, he would still watch his great-grandchildren with a sense of pride. He knew that even if he were to leave this world soon, his life would be well-lived.


    But when a strange man appeared on the television of the Emerald Acres Nursing Home, exclaiming that the gods had granted Earth an opportunity to seize whatever they desired, Samuel couldn¡¯t resist the urge to enter.


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    Frail and barely able to walk, he had travelled with dozens of others from the Home on a bus to nearby Denver, where the nearest Tower loomed over the city.


    His desire was clear: he wanted to be young again and have ¡®Her¡¯ back. If the gods could grant anything, then they would surely be able to accomplish that miracle.


    He would do anything to earn it.


    The tests had been challenging, although his time as a police officer made it simple to find clues and piece together the puzzles. But the physical challenges were beyond him. He even had trouble reading the words that appeared on the Silver Wristband the young woman gave him.


    But he persevered and had chosen his first Discipline.


    Zealot.


    Even though the young woman told him she would do nothing to influence his decision, she had given him enough hints to guide him. His strength of spirit and faith in a higher power would be an asset, making him stronger.


    But it was the Body stat that genuinely interested him. Reading between the lines, it wouldn¡¯t only make him physically powerful, it could reduce his age!


    With his Discipline and Blessing, Divine Smite, his faith in God was rewarded. He could feel spiritual energy radiating throughout his body.


    The first floor had been a challenge. He was frail and nearly blind. But with faith, all things were possible. He doubted these self-titled ¡®gods¡¯ were truly divine. They were merely conduits to the one true Lord, but with their guidance, he persevered.


    He had been given a wooden club on his entrance to the first floor, and each time he struck an undead, he could feel holy energy smite them.


    When he reached level five, the maximum for the floor, his eyes were healed, and he was no longer frail. Despite his ninety years of age, he felt better than he had in decades. Even his white hair had streaks of grey in it, and he could fight without worry of his body failing.


    From ¡®Zealot,¡¯ he became a ¡®Crusader.¡¯ Receiving the additional Blessing of ¡®Divine Aura,¡¯ that would weaken his foes and strengthen his allies, Samuel Johnson drew the attention of the god of Chivalrous Combat.


    His old clothes were gone, replaced with white robes and a metal breastplate with the symbol of his new divine patron. His wooden club was now a mace, and he smashed everything in his path as he led dozens of his fellow players in cleansing Resplendent City of the undead.


    On the second floor, Samuel was given the task of removing an evil cult from a village. He didn¡¯t feel bad as he crushed their skulls and burned them with righteous, divine light.


    By the time he was finished, he was Level 10, and his hair was salt and pepper grey. His back was tall and strong, the frailty of his limbs only a distant memory. He looked like a man in his fifties, and his faith sustained him.


    So when he reached the Third Floor and found they were on the brink of defeat by faithless, grotesque creatures called ¡®Goblins,¡¯ Samuel knew it was his task to destroy them.


    By now, he had gathered a group of dozens of Players, all as faithful and god-fearing as himself. They had joined him on the first and second floors and were ready to crush everything in their path.


    It was as his god willed it.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Who the hell are these clowns?¡± Greg asked, pointing out at a large group of similarly dressed men and women who had just emerged from the Temple.


    They were all attired in white clothing, either robes or shirts and pants with armour. Wielding swords, maces, long spears or even books, they had the same symbol on their bodies: a red circle with a star in the center.


    To Mathew, they seemed to almost glow in the sunlight. Even in the shade, they had an aura about them and the familiar feeling of the ¡®Buzz¡¯ returned at the base of his neck, warning him that this new group was trouble. Undoubtedly, they were higher than him, and he would be defeated if he fought with them.


    Their leader was a giant of a man, tall and muscular. With grey and black hair, he wore a silver breastplate over white robes and black pants. He had a large, silver-headed mace in his hand and was resting it casually across his shoulder.


    ¡°My Brethren! The gods demand our assistance! We will drive these Goblins back to whatever hole they crawled out of!¡± The man shouted, raising his fist into the air. The dozens following him cheered and screamed the name of the man ¡®Samuel¡¯ and their god ¡®The god of Chivalrous Combat.¡¯


    ¡°Wait, where are they going!?¡± Mathew exclaimed, climbing to his feet as the group rushed toward the gate.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to get yourselves killed! They¡¯re thousands of them out there!¡± Mathew shouted, and the leader of the group paused and turned toward him.


    ¡°Our god will protect us. Cower inside the walls if you wish, but we fight in the daylight!¡± Samuel shouted, and the group was soon out of sight.


    ¡°They¡¯re going to get themselves killed.¡± Mathew muttered, and Greg snorted a laugh.


    ¡°Crazy bastards. Good luck to them.¡± Greg said, and Mathew could only agree.

 Chapter 31 – Floor 3: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 31</u> ¨C Floor 3: Part 5


    Mathew could hear the sounds of fighting outside the walls from where he sat with Greg on the Temple steps. Only a few minutes after the group of eccentric players led by the mace-wielding man left their sight, he could hear them clashing with the Goblins.


    Goblins preferred to fight at night, but nothing made them adverse to fighting during the day. It seemed to be a preference. They would shield their eyes from the sun¡¯s glare and retreat to their holes and shaded trenches outside the walls, only returning to attack again at sunset.


    Mathew had expected the madmen to only survive for a few minutes, perhaps half an hour at the most. But after the morning dragged on and the sounds didn¡¯t dimmish, the pair rushed to the walls to observe what was happening.


    How could a few dozen men and women, no matter how insane and powerful, withstand an army of thousands of Goblins? The creatures were weaker than some of the city¡¯s players; Mathew thought they were around level 4 or 5, with a ¡®Body¡¯ stat to match.


    Mathew was shocked by what he saw when he peered over the battlements next to the gates.


    The white-clothed humans had formed a half circle with the wall at their backs. In the center, robed clerics were chanting in unison. There was a glow surrounding every human fighting. Mathew watched as it slowly healed their wounds and caused the Goblins to cringe and hesitate to approach them.


    But it was the giant figure in the front that was holding the Goblins back. His white clothing and armour were covered in blood, some of it his own but most of it belonging to his enemies. He looked battered and bruised, and the continuous healing magic wasn¡¯t able to completely counteract his accumulation of more wounds.


    Mathew winced as he saw the state of him. He had been wounded by a knife only once, and the pain lingered with him for days, even after he had consumed a healing potion. The man was sporting injuries that would have downed a lesser person and was still fighting.


    It was awe-inspiring, and Mathew knew he wasn¡¯t the only person feeling that way. The group behind him appeared to worship the man, following his commands without question. Even players from within the city who had nothing to do with their group had joined in the fighting until hundreds of people were outside the gates.


    Someone jostled him as he stared out the wall, and Mathew turned in surprise. Greg was hoisting his crossbow, a bolt already in place as he was heading toward the stairs.


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re going?¡± Mathew asked, and his companion nodded.


    ¡°So are you. Come on.¡± Greg said, disappearing down the stairs from the wall to the ground near the shattered gates.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Smite!¡± Samuel shouted, swinging his mace in a wide arc.


    The divine energy within him surged, flowing from the chest, down through his arm and into the weapon in his hand. It trailed a sparkling white light as it aimed for the small Goblin in front of him.


    The creature was stunned by his Divine Aura, the radiance that surrounded him and his companions. In the presence of so many of his fellow divine travellers, he found the Aura was enhanced beyond its previous limits.


    At Tier 3, Divine Aura would hinder his enemy''s movements and aim. For himself and his companions, it would give them a boost in energy and stamina. But there was an overlap in their abilities, and they combined into something greater than they would otherwise have been alone.


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    His stamina never ran out; Samuel felt as if he always had energy for Divine Smite and the abhorrent little abominations in front of him were reticent to engage with him. Samuel¡¯s wounds didn¡¯t bother him; his faith would sustain him through all adversity.


    With a deafening crash, his mace struck the Goblin and the little creature evaporated into a bloody mist. Not satisfied, the divine energy within his mace sent out a shockwave, knocking more of the beasts backwards.


    Laughing, Samuel leapt forward. With his mace held tightly in both hands, he brought it down on his dazed foes, removing more of them from his sight. The ground rumbled as his mace buried itself into the blood-soaked ground.


    One of the Goblins sneakily struck from his side, burying its small knife into the gap between his breastplate. The knife slid off his ribs, and Samuel gritted his teeth against the pain.


    With his mace stuck in the ground, Samuel let go and backhanded the Goblin. It spun around comically, its knife falling from its hand. Just as he was about to pull his mace free, the Goblin disappeared into a pillar of flames.


    A young man was sheltered behind the line of Samuel¡¯s companions. Wearing a thick black jacket and jeans, the young man looked out of place on the battlefield. He wasn¡¯t wielding a weapon, he was snapping his fingers and creating fires wherever his eyes lingered.


    It seemed his fellow Players who had remained in the city had finally found their nerve. He was surprised that people who lacked faith in the gods could manage the courage to leave their shelters and fight.


    Ignoring everything else, Samuel heaved the mace up from the ground. Bits of bloody dirt clung to its head as he looked for his next enemy. With a shouted prayer to his patron god, he lashed out.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew didn¡¯t believe that this giant who wielded a mace was human. It wasn¡¯t possible. They had been fighting for hours, and everyone who had left the walls to battle the Goblins had retreated for periods of time to rest.


    Even the white-robed fanatics that Mathew knew were insane spent time in the safety of Averatha to recuperate from their wounds, to eat and recover their mana. They didn¡¯t all go at once; they cycled through their numbers, ensuring that most were always behind the mace-wielding man to support him.


    But Samuel? He never once stopped swinging his mace. He left a mountain of Goblin bodies red with blood in his wake. That was if there were even bodies left after he was done. He was unstoppable, and for this first time, Mathew regretted not choosing a faith Discipline.


    Who knew that it was so overpowered?


    Mathew shook the thought away. It wasn¡¯t the Discipline, or the stats, or even the Blessings. It was the individual. He was watching someone who could have changed the world if they had been born at a different age under different circumstances.


    Like a Napolean or an Alexander the Great. Samuel Johnson would become a legend in the Tower of Avarice.


    Mathew snapped his fingers, using a conjured fire to block the path of a group of approaching Goblins seeking to avoid the mace-wielding giant and attack his companions behind him. Halting for a brief moment, a loud twang of a crossbow sent a bolt through the flames.


    It hit the lead Goblin in the throat, and it collapsed into the fire. Recovering, the three remaining Goblins leapt over the fire, rushing to reach Mathew before he could resummon the flames when a mace came flying toward them from the side.


    Striking another Goblin in the chest, it was soon followed by its owner, who crashed in their midst. Not bothering to retrieve his weapon, Samuel lashed out with his fist while another crossbow bolt finished off the last Goblin.


    ¡°We need to fall back!  It''s only a few hours to sundown. We need to rest and prepare for tonight!¡± Mathew shouted, trying to get the large man¡¯s attention. Picking up his mace, Samuel paused for the first time to look at Mathew.


    ¡°Retreat if you want. Our faith will lead us to victory! With the gods, all things are possible.¡± Samuel shouted, and his companions cheered. The glow they had around them, which seemed to have been fading as they exhausted themselves, became much more potent.


    With renewed vigour, they flung themselves at the Goblins. With the fighting intensifying, more and more players came out from behind the walls as reinforcements arrived from the lower floors.


    Mathew was about to grab Greg and retreat from this madness, where they could rest and rebuild their fortifications for the night when he saw his friend bashing a Goblin in the head with his crossbow. Having run out of bolts, the man pulled out a knife and rushed toward his next enemy.


    Mathew let out a resigned sigh.


    ¡°The man¡¯s going to get himself killed.¡± With a snap of his fingers, he burned another Goblin.

 Chapter 32 – Floor 3: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 32</u> ¨C Floor 3: Part 6


    Silence. It was almost oppressive after the constant din of the battlefield.


    The sun had sunk below the horizon hours ago, and the moon shone brightly on the field outside the city walls. Not even the wind stirred, leaving the survivors in the calm quiet of the night.


    Mathew stood off to the side of the white-clothed fanatics that had turned the tide of the battle against the Goblins. The scent of blood and death filled the air, but he had long since stopped caring about it. He was tired. It was an exhaustion so deep into his bones that not even potions or the spells of the clerics and priests could banish it.


    The aura that surrounded them all day had finally faded, and with it came the fatigue it had kept at bay. It hadn¡¯t removed it at all. It merely made it so that they didn¡¯t feel it and weren¡¯t slowed by its effects.


    Mathew swayed slightly, catching himself at the last moment before he collapsed. Greg hadn¡¯t even made an effort to stop himself. He sat down on the blood-soaked ground and leaned against a mound of Goblin corpses.


    The former Poacher, now a Trapper, had pulled out a large bottle from his inventory and was in the process of consuming it a mouthful at a time.


    They stayed like that for hours, just surveying the battlefield in stunned silence and the single man who had single-handedly made the difference.


    While Mathew and Greg felt so tired that they doubted anything short of a level-up could help them, Samuel was still walking through the battlefield, finishing off any surviving Goblins while encouraging his comrades.


    The Crusader had lost his mace; the durable metal weapon hadn¡¯t been able to withstand the abuse the warrior was giving it, and it had shattered after obliterating a Goblin and the Warg it was riding.


    Indifferent to its loss, Samuel had grabbed whatever weapon his foes dropped, ensuring that there was an ample supply of destroyed weapons littering the ground as none of them could match his strength and ferocity.


    Mathew was glad of the giant man¡¯s presence. He doubted he could have ever left the safety of the walls, as limited as it was, without the support of Samuel and his companions.


    Since his selection of ¡®Coward,¡¯ Mathew had been more hesitant to engage directly with his enemies. Staying behind a barrier, burning Goblins while protected by walls or a line of other humans was much preferable to him than running out and putting himself in danger.


    In the back of his mind, he couldn¡¯t help thinking that the choice of Discipline had been influencing his actions. He hadn¡¯t been at the forefront of the battle against the undead but he also hadn¡¯t hidden behind his companions like he was afraid of everything.


    He would need to be more careful in selecting his Discipline in the future. His choice''s downsides on his behaviour could outweigh the benefits of a Blessing.


    All these thoughts circled in his fatigue-addled mind, not latching on for long before they were gone again.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    The sound rang out in the silent night, and Mathew gave a start in surprise at the sudden noise. Everyone froze. Even Greg halted with the bottle nearly at his lips as he waited for the notification they knew was coming.


    Burning words appeared above their wristbands, announcing their success.


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    Floor 3 Complete!


    You have successfully protected Averatha from the Goblin army. The citizens are grateful for your intervention.


    Completion Bonus: You have taken the battle to the enemy beyond the city walls. The gods have granted you a boon for your audacity and perseverance. Your ¡®The Coward¡¯s Brand (Tier 2)¡¯ has been upgraded to ¡®The Coward¡¯s Brand (Tier 3).¡¯


    Please Proceed to Floor 4 within the next 24 Hours.


    Mathew could feel the brand on his chest burn with mana. He opened his jacket with shaky hands and lifted his shirt to observe it. It was glowing red in the darkness. Along with the symbol of a slashing sword, a pointy knife and a club had joined it to form a triangle of markings.


    Lowering his shirt, Mathew looked around the battlefield for the elevator. It was in front of the gate, blocking off access to the city. It was starkly out of place, with its pristine metallic doors and unblemished floors.


    ¡°Are you coming?¡± Mathew asked, looking down at his only friend in the Tower. Greg shrugged, taking another mouthful of the strong liquor before answering.


    ¡°You go ahead. I¡¯m going to rest here a bit. Maybe take a look around to see if the Goblins left anything good behind.¡±


    ¡°Alright. Good Luck. I¡¯ll see you on one of the higher floors.¡± Mathew replied. He didn¡¯t question Greg¡¯s decision. He likely just wanted time to process what happened and settle things in his head. It was understandable.


    ¡°You can count on it.¡±


    Mathew reached the elevator before any of the other players. The giant Samuel was still discussing something with his followers, and it looked like they would be awhile before following. Not worrying about the others, Mathew waited for the doors to close silently and the Elevator to begin to move before he looked at his gain for this Floor.


    He was Level 8, and his Coward¡¯s Brand had reached Tier 3, giving him resistance to Piercing, Slashing and Bludgeoning damage. He still wasn¡¯t sure exactly how much resistance it gave him, not since that Goblin attacked him on his first night here, but he wasn¡¯t ready to test it.


    It was just comforting to know that he had it.


    ¡°Let¡¯s check my Aether. I needed 36000 to reach the next Level. Hopefully, I earned enough. Otherwise, I¡¯m going to sleep for a month.¡± Mathew muttered, his words slurred slightly by fatigue.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Coward (Level 3) -> Coward (Level 4)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 8 -> 9


    Aether Required For next Level: 36000


    Aether: 41363 -> 5363


    Attributes


    Body: 2.3 -> 2.5


    Mind: 2.8 -> 2.9


    Spirit: 0.3 ¨C 0.3


    Blessings


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Max Tier)


    ¡°Confirm.¡± Mathew stated, thankful that he had enough. The energy swept through his body like a wave, and his weariness evaporated. He was clear-headed and energetic, whereas before, he had been dead on his feet, his mind barely working.


    ¡°Thank the gods.¡± Mathew whispered gratefully.


    Once he had used a magical ¡®laundry tab¡¯ to remove the dirt, blood and sweat from his body and clothing, he felt like he was capable of handling the next floor.


    ¡°I just hope it¡¯s not another warzone.¡± Mathew muttered. He could use a break. Mathew never thought that he would miss Bellmare. Lazing around for 30 days had been tortuous at the time, but he hadn''t realized how good it had been compared to living constantly on edge from Goblin attacks. Not a single person had tried to kill him the entire time he was there. It was heavenly.


    The elevator let out a ¡®ding¡¯ a moment later, surprising Mathew with its promptness. Maybe the transition between the first and second floors was the longest, while the rest were more typical.


    The doors opened to a paved street, not cobblestones or paving stones, but honest-to-goodness asphalt. Stepping out of the elevator, Mathew shaded his eyes from the bright light. It was noon, and the sun was shining directly overhead.


    The heat was radiating off the pavement, causing the air to shimmer.


    Mathew stood in the center of a small town. A couple dozen buildings were in sight, most of them made of brick. A large building beside him had a sign that read ¡®Aurora Trust,¡¯ and a large American flag hung outside the entrance.


    People had been walking down the street when he arrived, and they all stopped and stared at him. The men were wearing suits while the women wore dresses, and their style reminded Mathew of watching black and white movies from the forties and fifties.


    They were talking to each other and pointing at him. He heard a car honking behind him, and spinning around, Mathew saw an old-style convertible car with a large chrome grill and fins on the side. It was blindingly pink. The driver and passenger, an older man and a woman were staring at him with their mouths agape.


    Where, or when, the hell was he?

 Chapter 33 – Floor 4: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 33</u> ¨C Floor 4: Part 1


    Mathew¡¯s sudden arrival was beginning to attract a crowd. Dozens of people were standing in the streets, staring at him. They even came from the large building with the ¡®Aurora Trust¡¯ sign on the front. It was a bank if he wasn¡¯t mistaken about what he could see through the large windows.


    He had stepped off the street and onto the sidewalk to get out of the way of traffic, but none of the cars were taking the opportunity to move.


    Mathew felt like an alien visiting Earth for the first time. He was half tempted to ask someone to take him to their leader when a cop car pulled up, its red and blue lights flashing as it sped toward them. Stopping in the middle of the street, an older man got out of the vehicle.


    Wearing a cowboy hat and a uniform with a silver badge that read ¡®Sherrif¡¯ on the front, Mathew¡¯s eyes were drawn to the large pistol belted to his hip. The man had one hand resting on it as he approached while his other was held up in a halting motion.


    With a large, grey mustache and tanned skin, he looked to be in his fifties.


    Instinctively, Mathew held his arms out to his sides, palms visible to demonstrate he didn¡¯t have a weapon. Mathew wasn¡¯t sure if a gun like that could hurt him now, with his Body stat and the protection of the Coward¡¯s Brand, but he certainly didn¡¯t want to test it.


    At this moment, the Silver Wristband took the opportunity to vibrate. Burning letters appeared on the brick wall beside him.


    Floor 4 ¨C A Community in Shock.


    Over the past week, Arlen, Texas, has been rocked by a series of disappearances. Men and women of all ages have been going missing without a single trace. The local police are baffled, and even federal intervention could turn up no evidence of what happened to the eight lost citizens.


    Objective: Find the cause of the disappearances and eliminate it.


    ¡°Woah, now, you stay right there.¡± The sheriff said, pausing as he saw Mathew¡¯s head turn toward the blank wall for a moment. After reading through the summary, Mathew turned back to the officer.


    ¡°You want to tell me who you are and what you were doing showing up in the middle of the street? We got a call that you just ¡®appeared¡¯ from a flash of light, and you¡¯re dressed awfully strange, son.¡± The sheriff asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to help you with some disappearances? Eight people are missing, and you don¡¯t know what happened to them. I¡¯ve been sent to give you a hand.¡± Mathew answered.


    ¡°You were sent? By who?¡± The Sherrif asked suspiciously. First, they had people going missing all over town, and now a stranger just happens to show up offering help. The sheriff wasn¡¯t a fool. The culprit could be standing right in front of him.


    Mathew sighed, knowing he wouldn¡¯t believe what he was about to say.


    ¡°The gods. I¡¯m a ¡®Champion¡¯ from the Tower of Avarice.¡± Mathew nearly winced as he said it. This was clearly Earth, and he suspected it was the past. No one had heard of the Tower until it appeared during Mathew¡¯s time. They wouldn¡¯t have a clue what he was talking about.


    To his surprise, the Sherrif nodded.


    ¡°It¡¯s about time! We¡¯ve been asking the gods for help for nearly a week, when this all started. But I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m going to have to ask you to prove it.¡± The Sherrif said, relaxing slightly at Mathew¡¯s statement.


    ¡°Umm¡­ Alright.¡± Mathew replied. Looking at a large, empty spot on the street, Mathew snapped his fingers. A small fire appeared above the black asphalt, burning merrily for a moment before dying. Mathew was just thinking about what else he could show to the man to convince him, when the Sheriff spoke.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°A Blessing! I¡¯m sorry to have doubted you.¡± The Sherrif said, standing upright and removing his hand from his pistol holster. He turned to the crowd.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, folks, a Champion has arrived! We¡¯ll get all this straightened out in no time.¡± He called out, and Mathew saw the crowd nodding their heads and happily discussing it amongst themselves.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but this is Earth, right? And you all know about the Tower and the gods?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Of course! You¡¯re not the first Champion we¡¯ve had arrive in Texas over the years. Although, you¡¯re the first to visit Arlen. The feds told us to expect someone like you to arrive, but they weren¡¯t exactly sure about when.¡± The Sherrif said, stepping forward and holding out his hand.


    ¡°Albert Curtis. I¡¯m the Sheriff of Arlen County, Texas.¡± The man said, gripping Mathew¡¯s hand tightly.


    ¡°Mathew Larson, I¡¯m from New York.¡±


    ¡°An American! Good, that makes things easier. Come on, I¡¯ll give you a lift to the station, and we can go over the case.¡± Albert said, leading the way back to his squad car. The crowd had begun to disperse, assured that the Sheriff had everything in hand.


    Buckling himself into the passenger seat of the cruiser, Mathew was struck by the vintage interior. There wasn¡¯t anything electronic aside from the radio. It smelled like cigarette smoke, and Mathew rolled down the window a bit with the old-style crank on the side of the door.


    ¡°You¡¯ve said that other Champions have come here? Do you have a Tower as well?¡± Mathew asked as the car started, and the Sheriff began to drive slowly down the street. He would occasionally wave at a passerby while they talked.


    ¡°No Tower here, but the Champions all talked about it. Every time they came, the papers were full of stories about them.¡± Albert replied.


    ¡°Do they always come to investigate disappearances?¡± Mathew asked curiously.


    ¡°Not just missing people, but anything otherworldly that we can¡¯t figure out ourselves. Ever since the Pit was discovered, Champions have been coming more frequently on account of the strange things they find inside and the objects they pull out.¡± Albert explained, making a right turn at a bright red stop sign.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, the Pit?¡± Mathew replied.


    ¡°The Pit, it¡¯s a giant hole in the ground they found a few decades ago over in California. It created a real mess at the time. The army was called in to secure it, but people kept dying.¡± Albert continued.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t a part of that, and the papers were never allowed to write about what happened in detail, but rumour is that some kind of creatures kept coming out and attacking people, dragging them off down into the Pit. Took a lot of Champions to clear them out, and then the army sealed it off.¡±


    ¡°But they keep discovering new entrances, and people keep finding ways to go in there past the blockade to grab stuff.¡± Albert described, and Mathew was shocked by what he was hearing.


    ¡°Why the hell would they want to do that?¡± Mathew asked. He couldn¡¯t imagine regular people voluntarily facing some of the things he had seen on the other floors. If Champions were visiting the Pit, Mathew had no doubt there was Aether to be earned there, and it wouldn¡¯t be easy to get.


    Without levels and Blessings, most people wouldn¡¯t stand a chance.


    ¡°People are crazy, plus I heard the things they find are pretty valuable. Magic and such. I don¡¯t know much more than that. Ben Olson, down at the heritage society, can tell you more. He even got a couple of things from there, bought them when he was in the army.¡±


    They were quiet for a moment, and Mathew watched the buildings rush past his window. It was pleasant to be back in a place he was more familiar with. Not a medieval setting besieged by monsters or a city like Bellmare where sacrifices sustained their lifestyle.


    Still, it wasn¡¯t home.


    ¡°Can you tell me the date?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°July 17<sup>th</sup>.¡± Albert replied.


    ¡°And the year?¡± Albert looked at him, confused by the question at first, but nodded in understanding after giving his appearance a quick once over.


    ¡°1958.¡±


    ¡°Ah. Thanks.¡± Mathew muttered in resignation, looking back out the window.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing from your reaction and your clothes that isn¡¯t the answer you wanted.¡±


    ¡°I was expecting it. I just don¡¯t understand it. It was 2023 on my Earth when I entered the Tower. And there certainly wasn¡¯t any Pit in California.¡± Mathew explained. Albert was silent for a minute before changing the subject.


    ¡°What did you do in New York before you were a Champion?¡±


    ¡°Lawyer.¡±


    ¡°Criminal?¡±


    ¡°Contracts. I don¡¯t know how helpful I¡¯ll be in your investigation. If you and the ¡®Feds¡¯ already reviewed it.¡± Mathew admitted, and Albert just smiled and shook his head.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be a help. We were looking at their activities before they went missing, looking for evidence and such. I¡¯m sure with your experience, you¡¯ll think of something out of the box.¡±


    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll give it my best shot.¡±


    ¡°Here we are.¡±


    The car pulled into a small brick, two-story building with ¡®Arlene County Sheriff¡¯s Office¡¯ on the front.


    Entering the office, Mathew was greeted by two of Albert Curtis¡¯ deputies and their secretary. Waving them off before they could speak to him, Albert brought Mathew to the back office, where stacks of files covered a table, and pictures of the missing were posted on the walls.

 Chapter 34 – Floor 4: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 34</u> ¨C Floor 4: Part 2


    Something besides the files and the pictures drew Mathew¡¯s attention. The room smelled of fresh coffee, and he followed it to its source. Ignoring the mystery and purpose of why he was here, Mathew poured himself a large cup, added cream and sugar, and took a sip.


    It was heavenly. Mathew hadn¡¯t had a coffee in months. For someone who was accustomed to having multiple cups a day, his time in the Tower had been difficult without it.


    But there was also a bonus. Next to the pot of coffee was a large, open white box with donuts. Covered in powdered white sugar, Mathew felt it calling to him. Taking a bite, he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was blueberry.


    ¡°I understand that Arlen¡¯s bakery makes a fine donut, but could you focus on the task at hand?¡± Albert Curtis interrupted him. Mathew grinned, turning away from the box of donuts with powder covering his lips and the front of his jacket.


    ¡°If you had been through what I¡¯ve experienced, you wouldn¡¯t be interrupting me.¡± Mathew mumbled through a mouthful of donut.


    ¡°You solve this, and you can have all the donuts you want. Come take a look at the board.¡± Albert replied, pointing to the giant corkboard they had erected with pictures of the victims, as well as images of the rooms they were last seen in.


    ¡°We¡¯ve had eight people go missing, all from different parts of town. No blood or notes. No one saw them leave their homes or businesses.¡±


    ¡°All over the past week?¡± Mathew asked, licking his fingers clean. He was tempted to grab another donut but was satisfied to just drink his coffee. Taking a seat at the table where he could still see the board, he studied it carefully.


    ¡°Since last Sunday. The first victim was Tim Burnson, 67 years old. His wife was making dinner in the kitchen while Tim was in the living room watching television. He called out, asking for her to bring him a beer. When she did, he was gone.¡±


    ¡°Alright. You¡¯re sure he was the first? No other deaths or disappearances that could have gone unreported for a while?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°No, Tim was the first. We¡¯ve tracked when all the missing were reported, and we¡¯re fairly confident about the timeframe. Sunday evening was the beginning of whatever this was.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Then, we start with Mr. Burnson as well. Something targeted him, and we just need to figure out why. Tell me about him.¡± Mathew said, draining his cup of coffee quickly and standing to get another, along with a honey cruller.


    ¡°Retired a couple of years ago. He is, or was, a car salesman. Married, two kids. Both his children live in town with families of their own.¡± Albert said, not even needing the file on the victim to recite the information.


    ¡°Any enemies?¡± Mathew asked. Albert gave him a look that called him stupid without voicing it.


    ¡°He¡¯s a retired car salesman in Texas, Mr. Larson. No, he didn¡¯t have any enemies. Besides, a murder or kidnapping would have left traces. There was nothing but an empty chair; the door was still locked, and the windows closed. Supernatural, which is why you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°What was he doing all day? Anything out of the ordinary? Did he go somewhere he wasn¡¯t supposed to?¡± This time, Albert dug through the pile of documents, pulling out one from the bottom and handing it to the Champion.


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    Mathew flicked it open, skimming through it.


    ¡°Mowed the lawn, went shopping with his wife, Mary. A Farmer¡¯s Market?¡± Mathew read aloud, looking to Albert as he asked about the market. The Sheriff nodded.


    ¡°According to Mary, they go every Sunday. There¡¯s a flea market attached as well.¡± Albert clarified.


    ¡°Alright, can we go by his place? Maybe I¡¯ll see something.¡± Mathew asked, standing up. He left his jacket on the chair. The Texas heat was too much for him to want to wear it. He could have put it in his inventory, but he figured he would just be coming back here anyway.


    ¡°Sure thing.¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The Burnson house was the embodiment of the American dream. A large, detached house with two stories, a white picket fence and an immaculately kept green lawn. A car was parked in its driveway, pristine and perfect.


    If it hadn¡¯t been for the file proclaiming Mr. Burnson¡¯s disappearance, Mathew would never have suspected anything out of the ordinary.


    They were greeted at the door by Mary Burnson, who was wearing a dress with an apron stained by flour. Evidently, she was in the middle of baking. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she looked exhausted. Her husband¡¯s absence had been difficult for her.


    ¡°Afternoon, Mary. This is Mr. Larson, he¡¯s come about Tim.¡± Albert stated as soon as he saw her. He had his cowboy hat in his hands out of respect.


    ¡°Oh, Mr. Larson! Of course, we¡¯ve all heard about your arrival. Come in, please.¡± Mary said, letting them into the house. It was beyond tidy and clean, and Mathew could see a part of the kitchen from the entrance.


    Piles of baked goods covered every available surface, and he assumed that keeping busy kept Mary¡¯s mind from dwelling on her husband.


    ¡°Can I get you anything, Sheriff? Mr. Larson? I just made some apple pie. How about a slice and some lemonade?¡± Mary said, moving into the kitchen and disappearing around a corner. Mathew could hear the fridge open and the sound of dishes.


    ¡°That would be lovely, Mary.¡± Albert replied, giving Mathew a look that said to humour her.


    Sitting on the sofa, Mathew looked around the room. A chair was tucked into the corner, a lounger with the television directly in front of it. The last place Mary had seen her husband. Mathew didn¡¯t see anything out of the ordinary except for the fact that it was a house from the fifties.


    The contrast that nearly seventy years made was stark.


    Mary returned with two plates and two glasses of lemonade on a tray. She placed it down on the coffee table and offered one to the Sheriff and another to Mathew.


    Only intending to take a bit out of politeness, Mathew dug in after tasting it. It was delicious. On the other hand, the sheriff kept it on his lap as he asked Mary to sit with them.


    ¡°Mary, I¡¯ve just been covering the case with Mr. Larson here, and we¡¯ve had a few questions.¡±


    ¡°Of course! Anything to help.¡± Mary exclaimed, and Mathew put the empty plate on the table. Taking a sip of lemonade, he cleared his throat and began.


    ¡°The Sheriff told me about some of the things you and your husband did last Sunday. Was there anything out of the ordinary?¡± Mathew started.


    ¡°Oh, let me think. Tim woke up early, around 6, and we went to church. Afterwards, we had our Sunday drive, and then we went to the farmer¡¯s market and the grocery store. Then Tim mowed the lawn while I started on dinner.¡± Mary explained.


    To Mathew, it sounded like a prepared list that she had gone over a dozen times with the police and the ¡®Feds.¡¯


    ¡°And nothing out of the ordinary?¡± Mathew pressed, and Mary shook her head.


    ¡°No, nothing. Not that I can think of. It was a rather pleasant day.¡± Mary clarified.


    ¡°What about in the week before, did you meet anyone new? Pick up something that was strange?¡± Mathew asked, thinking about what could have caused her husband to leave without a trace.


    ¡°Mr. Larson, we know nearly everyone in Arlen. We rarely meet new people, and we barely buy anything at all now that we¡¯re retired. We only bought a few antiques from the flea market all week.¡± Mary replied, and Mathew¡¯s breath hitched at the statement.


    ¡°A few antiques?¡± Mathew asked for clarification. He shared a quick look with Albert.


    ¡°Mary, why didn¡¯t you mention this to us before?¡± Alberta said crossly. This fact wasn¡¯t in the original statement.


    ¡°That we bought a few odds and ends at the flea market? Because I didn¡¯t think it was important. It was just an old travel chest and a few knick-knacks. Nothing strange or odd, as Mr. Larson was asking about.¡± Mary retorted.


    ¡°Where are these ¡®objects¡¯ now, Mrs. Burnson?¡± Mathew asked, his voice deadly serious. It looked like he had his first lead.


    ¡°They¡¯re in the garage! I had them in the living room, but with Tim gone, I packed them away.¡± She said. The pair of men stood immediately, making their way to the door that led to the garage. Mary led them to the corner where she had placed them, but there was nothing left.


    Whatever she had bought that day was gone.

 Chapter 35 – Floor 4: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 35</u> ¨C Floor 4: Part 3


    ¡°Did anyone enter your garage for the past week?¡± Mathew asked, looking around the clean space. The garage was large enough for a single vehicle but was being used for storage. There were dozens of boxes stacked in a corner, along with a lawn mower and some toolboxes.


    ¡°The investigators would have been in here, but not since Monday evening.¡± Albert offered.


    ¡°My son came on Sunday to help me look for Tim. I don¡¯t know if he took anything, but I remember we searched all over the house and around the yard. Do you think he¡¯s in danger?¡± Mary replied, her eyes widening in concern.


    ¡°Your son and his family are fine. We¡¯ve taken statements from them. Whatever is taking people hasn¡¯t touched them.¡± Albert reassured her.


    ¡°We should ask the son if he remembers seeing anything. Or if he took something from here.¡± Mathew suggested, and the Sherrif nodded.


    Tim Burnson Jr, or TJ, lived with his wife and daughter on the other side of town. Climbing aboard the police cruiser once more, Alberta pulled out of the driveway and began driving to their new destination.


    ¡°So you think TJ Burnson took something from the garage that may have been responsible for Tim¡¯s disappearance?¡± Albert asked. He had his window rolled down and was smoking a cigarette.


    Mathew replied, leaning back in his seat and letting the fresh air keep the smoke away from his face.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It seems like a big coincidence that they happened to buy antiques, and then Tim goes missing.¡± Mathew reasoned.


    ¡°If that were the case and TJ did take the stuff, why hasn¡¯t anything happened to him or his family?¡± Albert queried.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Maybe it needs to be triggered or something. Has there been any disappearances around TJ¡¯s part of town?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°The second disappearance was only a few blocks over from his place. It didn¡¯t seem important at the time. Arlen isn¡¯t that big, and they didn¡¯t have any relationship with Tim or his family, so we didn¡¯t make the connection.¡± Albert confessed, tapping his cigarette into a tray to get the ashes off.


    ¡°I can understand. It¡¯s a pretty thin connection.¡± Mathew agreed.


    The rest of the trip passed in silence until they pulled into TJ Burnson¡¯s driveway. A one-story bungalow, its lawn was covered in children¡¯s toys. There were kids playing in the yard, with TJ¡¯s wife sitting on the front step watching them.


    She stood as soon as she saw the police cruiser. Opening the door, she shouted for her husband inside.


    TJ Burnson was a large man with a big beer belly and a beard. He was wearing a pair of khaki pants and a button-up shirt. Meeting them by the driveway, Albert shook his hand and introduced him to Mathew.


    ¡°Any word on my father?¡± TJ asked eagerly. He looked disappointed when Albert shook his head.


    ¡°Nothing yet, but we think we have a lead. Did you find anything in your father¡¯s garage when you were there on Sunday?¡± Albert inquired. TJ¡¯s face scrunched up into a confused expression as he answered.


    ¡°In their garage? No, nothing.¡± TJ said, and Albert looked disappointed.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t see any antiques or an old travel trunk?¡± Mathew pressed, and TJ shook his head.


    ¡°No, there wasn¡¯t anything like that there. I would remember. We looked all over the house and yard for my Father. I thought he had just wandered outside or something, a senior moment, you know? I didn¡¯t think it was that serious until hours went by, and he didn¡¯t come home.¡± TJ explained.


    ¡°Did you take anything from the house?¡± Mathew asked, and this time, TJ nodded.


    ¡°There were some old bags of garbage that mom asked me to take out when I left that night. They were in the garage. I was going to put them in their bin, but it was full, so I brought them back here and put them on the curb with mine.¡± TJ said, shrugging.


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    ¡°Wait, you took something from the garage? What did the bags look like?¡± Mathew asked eagerly, and even Albert was looking at TJ like he had the answer to their mystery.


    ¡°They were black garbage bags. I didn¡¯t look in them. The garbage truck took them away on Monday.¡± TJ replied, not understanding what the big deal was. What did garbage bags have to do with his father going missing?


    ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t think my father¡¯s body was in those bags?!¡± TJ exclaimed, and Albert shook his head.


    ¡°No, of course not. You wouldn¡¯t have been able to lift them, and we would have seen evidence all over that house. Your father wasn¡¯t in those bags, TJ.¡± Albert reassured him while giving Mathew a pointed look.


    ¡°I think we should go to see where the next disappearance occurred.¡± Albert said. Once they were back in the car and moving, they discussed what they had just learned.


    ¡°So, instead of antiques, TJ took out a few garbage bags. Do you think the antiques were inside them?¡± Albert asked, and Mathew shrugged.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Was the second victim connected to TJ and his family in any way? Or did they work in garbage collection?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t trust the Alfredsons with my garbage, let alone a job working with a truck. They would rob you blind. I¡¯ve had dozens of reports of thefts in the area, and most of them match their descriptions.¡± Albert explained.


    ¡°And they¡¯ve both gone missing?¡± Mathew asked, remembering the name from the board. A middle-aged man and woman, both looking hard and rough. The pictures of the couple were from mugshots.


    ¡°Hmm, since Monday. Their oldest reported it and said they were gone when he got home that morning. We would have suspected him of having something to do with it, but he was at a house party all night. We got the noise complaints to confirm it. It wasn¡¯t hard to confirm his alibi.¡±


    ¡°So they disappeared either Sunday night or Monday morning.¡± Mathew remarked, and Albert nodded.


    ¡°Maybe they picked something up from TJ¡¯s place or from the flea market.¡± Mathew finished.


    The Alfredsons lived in a small, run-down house on the edge of Arlen. The paint was peeling on its walls, its roofing shingles looked faded and in need of replacement, and the lawn looked like it hadn¡¯t been mowed in months, with large brown patches and weeds coming up through the concrete walkway.


    The entire house looked neglected.


    Pulling into the drive, Mathew and Albert came to the front door and knocked on the screen door. In a few moments, a teenager answered them. Wearing a white shirt and black pants, he looked to be about fifteen or sixteen.


    Shading his eyes against the bright Texas sunlight, he stared at the pair of them. He made no move to let them in or speak first.


    ¡°Shaun, This is Mr. Larson. We¡¯re here to ask you some questions about your parents.¡± Albert started, and Shaun nodded.


    ¡°Still haven¡¯t found them? I told you they¡¯re probably dead in a ditch somewhere. I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re bothering even looking.¡± Shaun replied, and Mathew was shocked that their own son would say that about his parents.


    ¡°Did your parents grab anything from TJ Burnson¡¯s house or from the flea market?¡± Albert asked, ignoring the comment about the Alfredsons.


    ¡°No.¡± Shaun said with a shrug of his shoulders.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure? This is important.¡± Mathew interrupted.


    ¡°No, they didn¡¯t steal anything from the Burnsons or the flea market. Whose been tattling?¡± Shaun replied, frowning.


    ¡°No one. We think your parents may have picked up something from the Burnsons on Sunday night or Monday morning. I¡¯ll ask again, and we aren¡¯t looking to get anyone in trouble. Did your parents get anything from TJs or the flea market on Sunday?¡± Albert asked carefully.


    Shuan shifted on his feet, and Mathew caught on that the teen was uncomfortable.


    ¡°This could make all the difference. I swear that you won¡¯t get into trouble if they or you did something. We¡¯re just trying to find them. If you have something to tell us, now¡¯s your chance. If we find out later, immunity is off the table.¡± Mathew explained.


    Shaun was silent for a moment, chewing on his fingernail nervously before letting out a huff of air.


    ¡°Look, they were just throwing that stuff out anyway. Once it''s on the sidewalk, it''s trash and fair game. I didn¡¯t steal anything.¡± Shaun explained, and Albert nodded.


    ¡°Alright. We understand Shaun. Why don¡¯t you slow down and tell us what happened.¡± Albert asked calmly.


    ¡°I was walking home Sunday to get changed for the party. I went past TJ Burnson''s place, and he had all this stuff on the sidewalk. No one was around, and they were dumping it, so I took a look to see if there was something I could sell for a couple of bucks. I sometimes fix things and drop them off at the flea market.¡± Shaun explained.


    ¡°And what did you find?¡±


    ¡°There was a trunk, like luggage with some old junk in it. I figured people love that kind of crap, so I lugged it home. I was going to dig through it the next day, after the party, but it was gone when I got home.¡± Shaun finished.


    ¡°Any idea what happened to it?¡± Mathew asked.


    Shaun shook his head.


    ¡°I figured Mom and Dad took it, or Uncle Jimmy. He comes by sometimes looking for money. He might have grabbed it. Like I said, it was gone the next morning, and so were Mom and Dad.¡±


    After thanking the teen, Mathew and Albert walked back to the car as the screen door slammed behind them.


    ¡°So, he takes a trunk full of antiques from TJ''s place, and his parents go missing a little while later.¡± Mathew observed as they stood next to the car.


    ¡°But TJ said that it was nothing but garbage bags.¡± Albert replied, shaking his head.


    ¡°Could he have been lying?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Maybe, but why? Why would he bother lying about throwing away a trunk of antiques? It doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡± The sheriff responded.


    ¡°Do you know this ¡®Uncle Jimmy¡¯ that Shuan was talking about? Could he have taken those items to the next victim?¡± Mathew asked, and Albert nodded.


    ¡°It¡¯s certainly possible. The next victim owns a pawn shop.¡±

 Chapter 36 – Floor 4: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 36</u> ¨C Floor 4: Part 4


    After a quick discussion with ¡®Uncle Jimmy,¡¯ who revealed that he had taken a box of odds and ends to the pawn shop while his nephew was out of the house on Monday morning before the teen returned home, Mathew and Albert drove to the Pawn Shop in downtown Arlen.


    Downtown was where Mathew had appeared, and the pawn shop was a small brick building a few streets over from the bank ¡®Aurora Trust.¡¯ Shaded by a large, leafy green tree, it had a yellow sign that read ¡°Pawn.¡±


    ¡°Alan Garcia, forty-five. His family reported him missing when he didn¡¯t come home on Monday evening for dinner. One of my deputies came by to check it out and found the door unlocked and not a soul inside. Worse still, one of our other victims, Elizabeth Alvarez, was traced back to here as well.¡± Albert explained as he shut the door to the police cruiser, and they made their way across the small parking lot to the pawn shop.


    ¡°So Alan was working here on Monday and went missing after Jimmy pawned a box of things. Do you think Elizabeth was a customer and in the wrong place at the wrong time?¡± Mathew asked.


    Albert took out a set of keys, fumbling with them momentarily before finding the right one for the front door.


    ¡°That¡¯s the theory. Her husband pawned her ring a few months ago for some cash, and she told her family she would be coming here on Monday to get it back. Mrs. Garcia lent us her keys in case we needed to check out the shop again.¡± Albert replied, fitting the key into the lock and turning it.


    The door was glass, with a metal frame. A sign said ¡®We buy gold¡¯ on the front. Going in first, Albert flipped the light switch.


    The interior was tidy and clean, with an array of luggage on a shelf that ringed the entire place. There were typewriters on a table to the right of the entrance and a wide assortment of other items. A large jewelry case dominated one wall, while a weapons locker with firearms in a cage covered another.


    Stepping inside, Mathew froze immediately.


    ¡°So, from what we can piece together, Garcia used the cash register at 3 p.m. That¡¯s the last transaction for the day. What¡¯s wrong?¡± Albert asked as he stood by the counter and turned to look at a stiffly standing Mathew.


    The ¡®Buzz¡¯ had returned with a vengeance. Mathew¡¯s instincts were screaming at him to fight or flee. His head was pounding with a headache, and goosebumps covered his skin. He couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t breathe. His eyes darted around the store, looking for the threat.


    But he couldn¡¯t see a thing out of place. It was only a regular store, with a mishmash of items and the Sheriff.


    ¡°There¡¯s something here.¡± Mathew whispered, and with that statement, he could move again. The feeling of the ¡®Buzz¡¯ faded slightly, leaving him the ability to act.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Albert asked with his hand on his holstered pistol at his hip.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. We get a feeling called the ¡®Buzz¡¯ when anything dangerous is nearby. Something more powerful than ourselves. I wouldn¡¯t be feeling it if there wasn¡¯t something here that could harm me.¡± Mathew confessed, carefully stepping into the room.


    His hand was ready to act, prepared to summon a fire to destroy whatever was threatening him. At his words, Albert drew his firearm. It was a silver revolver with a six-bullet chamber, cocking back the hammer, Albert nodded to Mathew to tell him he was ready.


    ¡°How do we find it?¡± Albert said quietly, slowly panning his weapon around the room. Nothing stood out. The place was completely empty.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what ¡®it¡¯ is, let alone how to find it. Stay close to me. Is there a back room or an employee¡¯s area?¡± Mathew asked.


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    ¡°In the back.¡± Albert gestured to another door behind the counter. Walking slowly and stealthily through the room, Mathew was on edge the entire time. Pushing the door open, he saw that it led to a small area with a desk, a file cabinet and a small iron safe.


    The feeling of danger lessened slightly as he left the central area of the pawn shop, alerting Mathew that the threat was in the main room. Stepping back out into the shop, Mathew tried to think of anything that could give him a clue as to what he was looking for.


    ¡°Alright. We know that whatever it is that is taking people, it¡¯s an item. Either it''s magical, cursed or has some other means of abducting them. Is there anything here that stands out?¡± Mathew asked Albert.


    ¡°Things look exactly the same as when I was last here. The feds searched the place pretty thoroughly and turned up nothing. Are you sure about this ¡®ability¡¯ of yours?¡± Albert asked doubtfully.


    ¡°Absolutely sure. What we¡¯re looking for is in this room.¡± Mathew nodded, making a decision.


    ¡°Get ready. Shoot first and ask questions later. If this thing is giving me the ¡®buzz,¡¯ it¡¯s going to be powerful. I don¡¯t know if a gun will affect it, but it won¡¯t hurt to try.¡± Mathew advised.


    ¡°Oh, and I¡¯m about to make a mess.¡± Mathew added, not waiting for the Sheriff to respond. Picking up the cash register, Mathew threw it as hard as he could against the far wall, where it slammed into a stacked pile of travel trunks.


    ¡°Have you lost your gods'' damned mind?!¡± Albert hissed, and Mathew flashed him a grin.


    ¡°You got a better idea? It¡¯s either this, or I burn the whole place down to the ground, and we root through the ashes. I may be a Champion, but I don¡¯t have a lot of Blessings to deal with this thing.¡± Mathew replied.


    Easily hopping over the counter, he walked over to the table of typewriters. Picking up the largest one, he threw it at another wall, where it crashed into a cabinet of knick-knacks. They clattered to the ground, and the place was filled with the sound of shattering glass.


    ¡°I can¡¯t just let you trash the place.¡± Albert protested.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as if-¡± Mathew was cut off suddenly.


    He had been walking toward a tall, standing lamp. He had been intending to pick it up and use it like a stick to clear some of the tables. But as soon as his hand touched it, the brass surface began to wriggle and twist.


    Like a snake, the lamp wrapped around his arm and body while the crystal shade morphed into a mouth with long, razor-sharp teeth and a spiked tongue dripping with greenish venom.


    Shouting, Mathew stumbled backwards. Trying to rip it off his arm, he was forced to grab the lamp¡¯s head with his other arm. Using all of his strength, enhanced beyond human limits by his Level-ups, he barely managed to keep it from biting his face. Even then, the wriggling creature was inching its way closer.


    ¡°Shoot it! For Christ¡¯s sake, shoot it!¡± Mathew yelled, trying to rouse Albert from his stunned stupor. The Sheriff never expected that a lamp would suddenly transform and try to kill his young partner.


    Albert was aware of the supernatural. Everyone on Earth was after the appearance of the Pit and Champions. But being aware of something and having it leap right out into your face were two different things.


    Spinning around, Mathew slammed the transforming lamp into the wall as hard as he could. Not harming it, he lifted it high into the air and hit it onto the table with enough force that the wooden surface cracked in half.


    ¡°Hold still!¡± Albert shouted, finally moving. Aiming carefully, he waited until Mathew stopped moving and drew a bead on the lamp¡¯s monstrous head.


    Bang!


    With a loud crack, the gun discharged. The bullet shattered the lamp¡¯s shade and left a significant dent on its brass surface. Otherwise unharmed, it was enough of a shock to the creature that Mathew was finally able to rip it free and toss it across the room.


    Like a coiled serpent, the lamp fell to the ground on the other side of the counter.


    Not hesitating, Mathew snapped his fingers and summoned a fire. The blazing flames erupted around the creature, and Mathew pumped as much mana into the bonfire as he could. The ¡®lamp¡¯ began to scream, and he could see its form shift in the fire. It was a lamp, then a trunk, until finally, it was a twisted lump of metal.


    Panting, Mathew let the flames die out. The counter, the wall and the floor behind it were scorched black. The room smelled strongly of smoke, and Mathew coughed as he collapsed against the remains of the table he had destroyed. He was temporarily out of mana and would need a minute before he could cast his Blessing again.


    ¡°Can I borrow that?¡± Mathew asked, pointing to the Sheriff¡¯s gun. Nodding mutely, the Sheriff handed over the revolver.


    Despite never having fired a gun before, Mathew was aware of how they worked. Cocking the hammer back, he walked to the burnt remains of the creature as it rested behind the counter. Raising the gun, he aimed carefully with both hands and pulled the trigger.


    The bullet buried itself in the remains, and the creature didn¡¯t move at all.


    Finally satisfied, Mathew nodded and handed the weapon back to the Sheriff.


    ¡°Now we know what happened to your missing people, Sheriff.¡± Mathew stated grimly.

 Chapter 37 – Floor 4: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 37</u> ¨C Floor 4: Part 5


    Mathew and the Sheriff stood outside the pawn shop while they waited for his deputies to come and secure the location.


    The creature appeared to be dead, and the threat here was contained, but they weren¡¯t taking any chances. Mathew would watch while they removed whatever monster had taken the form of that lamp and scoured the shop for any other traces of more of them.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that¡¯s the only one, Larson. Sure, it could have eaten Alan and Elizebeth while they were in the shop and the Alfredsons when Shaun carried it there from TJ¡¯s place. And poor Tim when they bought it from the Flea Market, but what about the rest? We¡¯ve still got three other people unaccounted for, and they never stepped foot in that shop.¡±


    Albert took a long drag of his cigarette. His hand was shaking now that the danger had passed and the adrenaline wore off. The Sheriff had seen a lot of things in his life and had been in a few tight spots over the years, but nothing like he had witnessed inside.


    To the Sheriff¡¯s surprise, Mathew was calm. Leaning against the hood of the squad car with his arms crossed, he looked like what he experienced was an everyday occurrence.


    Perhaps it was for a Champion.


    The thought made Albert shudder. What had the young man beside him been through within the Tower to desensitize him to nearly being killed?


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about that. We¡¯ve followed the trail of this creature from Tim¡¯s place all the way to here without a step missing in between. The most logical answer is that there are more than one of these things.¡± Mathew explained, and the Sheriff nodded.


    ¡°We could check the sales records to see what was purchased over the past week and see if any of the other victims bought anything.¡± Mathew finished.


    ¡°We could if you hadn¡¯t burned the ledger to ash. We¡¯ll need to go about this a slower way. Once the others arrive, we¡¯ll go to the other victim¡¯s places and see if that ¡®Buzz¡¯ of yours activates. While we¡¯re doing that, I¡¯ll have my deputies search the shop for any other records to see if Alan kept another set of books that we can trace.¡± The sheriff replied, tossing his cigarette onto the ground.


    ¡°There could be others out there, waiting for new victims. And they could be taking the shape of anything.¡± Mathew stated grimly.


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll need to be thorough. Even if it means I have to bring you door to door all over Arlen.¡± The Sheriff replied, and Mathew let out a bark of a laugh.


    The deputies arrived only a few minutes later, their police cruiser pulled into the parking lot, and the two men that Mathew had seen at the Sheriff¡¯s office approached them. After a few minutes of explaining what happened and that they were not to touch the remains of the creature, Albert ordered the men to search the premises for any other records of purchases that may have escaped the fire.


    If they couldn¡¯t turn anything up, they could search for copies the feds may have given them during their initial investigation earlier in the week. Albert was sure there was a copy buried somewhere in that pile of documents.


    With that done, Mathew and the Sheriff continued on to the site of the next disappearance. This one was a lot stranger. Rita Miller had nothing to do with Tim or the Pawn Shop. There were no connections between them, and the Sheriff wasn¡¯t sure how her abduction was linked to the others.


    She lived on a farm about twenty minutes outside of town and had vanished on Wednesday. Her husband had said he came home from out in the field, and there wasn¡¯t a trace of her. After calling all of their relatives to see if they had spotted her, Eric Miller called the Sheriff to report her missing.


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    ¡°No contact with the others, and she hadn¡¯t been into town since the weekend. Did she have any visitors?¡± Mathew asked as they drove out of town toward the victim¡¯s house. The paved road ended, and they were soon driving on gravel. The car sent up a plume of dust behind them, and Mathew rolled up the window.


    ¡°No, but there¡¯s something we didn¡¯t think about when we first investigated. Rita Miller brings items to the Farmer¡¯s Market on Sundays. What are the chances she brought something home as well?¡± Albert inquired, and Mathew understood.


    The farmhouse was a small, one-story structure at the end of a long, dirt road driveway surrounded by a circle of trees protecting it from the wind. There were fields of wheat and barley, as well as other crops that Mathew couldn¡¯t recognize.


    The meeting with Eric Miller was short and to the point. While the Sheriff spoke with him, Mathew began walking through the house. Despite searching the entire property, there was no ¡®Buzz¡¯ or any indication that anything was wrong.


    They did find a single significant piece of information. Rita Miller did bring something home from the farmer¡¯s market that day.


    ¡°A basket of fruit?¡± Albert asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s all.¡± Eric Miller replied with a shrug of his shoulders at the question, not seeing the importance. They hadn¡¯t told him about anything that happened at the Pawn Shop or the creature that had posed as a lamp.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the basket now?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I think Rita must have tossed it. I wasn¡¯t home all day, and it wasn¡¯t in the house when I got here. Look, Sheriff, care to tell me what all this has to do with my missing wife? For heaven¡¯s sake, she¡¯s been gone for days, and you¡¯re here asking me about fruit?!¡± Eric Miller shouted, turning red as he finally lost patience.


    After speaking to him for a few more minutes, Mathew and Albert returned to the car. Out of leads, and with only the knowledge that Rita may have brought one of the creatures back from the Farmer¡¯s Market, they went to visit the homes of the last two victims.


    Like the Millers, Mathew couldn¡¯t find a single trace of anything there. If there was a creature hiding in their homes and feeding on people, it was gone now.


    ¡°Let¡¯s check out the Farmer¡¯s Market.¡± Mathew said, and Albert shook his head negatively.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to see at this time of day. It''s just a parking lot when it¡¯s not open. Everyone comes and sets up their booths on the weekend. Sunday is the busiest, but there will be people there tomorrow starting around noon.¡±


    ¡°Then what do you suggest?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°We know that whatever is behind all this is sending out those things from the market. If more of those creatures were in any of the other victim''s homes, we would have heard about more disappearances by now. Chances are, they returned to wherever they came from, or they''re lying low for a while.¡± While Albert was driving, he let out a sigh.


    ¡°Look, it¡¯s getting late. We¡¯ll head back to the office and get some rest. We¡¯ll hit the market first thing tomorrow and see if we can catch these bastards.¡± The sun had set while they were talking to Eric Miller, and the car¡¯s headlights were shining brightly on the dirt road as they sped back toward town.


    They were quiet for a while as they traveled. After a few minutes, the dirt road turned to pavement, and Mathew looked out the window.


    ¡°Those people are dead, you know.¡± Mathew spoke quietly, giving voice to an idea that neither of them wanted to admit for a while. Ever since he was attacked, he knew exactly what happened to everyone that was missing.


    ¡°I know. The best we can do now is make sure no one else is in danger.¡± Albert replied, lighting another cigarette and rolling down the window a bit. As he drew in a deep breath of smoke, the glow lit his face in the night.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t do more.¡± Mathew apologized.


    ¡°You did all you could. They were already dead before you got here. That thing would have taken another victim if it weren''t for you.¡±


    The car pulled into the Sheriff¡¯s office. The Deputies had returned a while ago with the information the Sheriff had requested. According to the Pawn Shop records, there hadn¡¯t been any transactions from the shop to any of the victims. None of the other items ¡®Uncle Jimmy¡¯ had pawned had been a creature or left the shop.


    Mathew was tired. It had been a long day, and even the level up from the previous floor couldn¡¯t keep him going any longer. It was made worse by his ¡®Coward¡¯ Discipline pressuring his instinct to flee. He had to fight it every step of the way while searching those houses, and now that he was safe, the weariness crashed down on him.


    After eating a quick meal of fast food that Mathew wished he could enjoy in better circumstances, he collapsed onto a cot the Sheriff had set up in an empty office.


    His dreams were filled with nightmares of objects coming to life and attacking him, and more than once over the night, he woke up in terror.

 Chapter 38 – Floor 4: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 38</u> ¨C Floor 4: Part 6


    Mathew sat with the Sheriff in the patrol cruiser, with a large coffee in the cup holder next to him and a box of donuts on his lap. He had slept terribly the night before. The sugar and caffeine were helping.


    Beside him, Albert had been chain smoking all morning. After the revelation of what had happened to the missing people, he had been shook. Rather than go home and toss and turn, he had stayed at the station.


    His wife was used to it by now. It wasn¡¯t the first time that he had chosen to stay at work rather than bring it home with him.


    Taking another bite of powdery donut, Mathew washed it down with a mouthful of coffee with plenty of cream and sugar. One thing he was thankful for about the Tower is that with his level-ups, he didn¡¯t have to worry about getting fat. His body stat would keep him in perfect condition.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how you can eat like that first thing in the morning.¡± Albert commented, and Mathew licked his finger clean in response.


    ¡°Hopefully, we¡¯ll have this dealt with today, but that means this is my last chance to stuff my face for a while. Who knows where I¡¯ll be going next.¡± Mathew replied.


    ¡°It can¡¯t be anywhere worse than this.¡± Albert muttered, thinking about the creature that had come alive and tried to kill them. Mathew gave the Sheriff a pointed look before responding.


    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised.¡±


    Another ten minutes or so went by before vehicles began to arrive, cars and trucks filled with goods for the Saturday market. It wasn¡¯t going to be as busy as on Sunday, but Mathew and Albert were actually counting on that. When they found whoever was responsible for distributing or protecting these monsters, they didn¡¯t want to have to protect a crowd of people.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get this over with.¡± Albert said, flicking his cigarette out the window and heaving himself out of the car. Mathew set the donuts on the backseat, drained his coffee in a single swallow, and followed along.


    The Farmer¡¯s Market took place in the parking lot of an office building that was closed on the weekends. Ordinarily empty, it was now filled with people and vehicles unloading and preparing for the market for the day.


    While Albert nodded and greeted everyone he knew, the crowd stared at Mathew with confusion. He stood out in his odd clothing, and most of the people of Arlen knew each other. Word had spread around the town of the Champion of the gods coming to their town to find the missing people, and many of them began to worry about what his presence here meant.


    Mathew didn¡¯t care about the stares or the whispered comments that followed in his wake. He was entirely focused on the single goal of finding the creatures that had been killing people.


    But there was nothing here. He wandered through the crowd, looking closely at the various stalls with baskets or boxes of produce, homemade crafts, furniture and clothing. Each time he approached a vehicle with its trunk open or tailgate down, he expected to feel that ¡®Buzz.¡¯


    Coming to the last of the parking lot near the closed office building, Mathew felt a sense of disappointment. He had thought they would finally find it to put an end to this crisis that was killing people in the town.


    Turning to look for Albert, Mathew finally felt that sense of dread, terror and adrenaline surging down his neck and pooling in his stomach that they called the ¡®buzz.¡¯


    Albert was still in the middle of the Market, speaking to some of the organizers. From his posture and expression, Mathew suspected he was trying to reassure them that they were fine and that the Market could continue, that whatever brought the Sheriff and the Champion to their place of business today was nothing to worry about.


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    Mathew¡¯s eyes flicked over the crowd around the Sheriff, not resting long as he sought the source of the eerie feeling creeping down his spine.


    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he found it.


    A pickup truck had pulled into the parking lot. Brown and rusted, it had dings and scratches all over its body. The box of the vehicle was filled with boxes and crates, and the driver was an older man wearing a suit and a large-brimmed hat.


    Parking in a spot, the man exited the vehicle with a smile on his face as he greeted the others who had come for the Market. He seemed to either be oblivious to what he was carrying or a magnificent actor.


    With his eyes glued to the man, Mathew walked toward the sheriff and subtly nudged him. Albert, who had been speaking with several organizers, immediately stopped talking and looked at Mathew. With a slight nod and a flick of his eyes, Mathew alerted the Sheriff that he had found their suspect.


    ¡°Well, we should take a look around before we head out. You all have a wonderful day.¡± Albert said to the organizers with a smile that didn¡¯t reach his eyes. The Sheriff was now keeping a hand on his holstered pistol, seemingly casually but ready to draw at a moment¡¯s notice.


    ¡°You found them?¡± Albert asked once they were far enough away from anyone to not be overheard.


    ¡°Brown pickup. The older man with the hat.¡± Mathew whispered, and Albert looked over at the suspect. His eyes widened in surprise.


    ¡°You know him?¡± Mathew pressed, and the Sheriff nodded.


    ¡°Ben Olson.¡± Albert replied quietly, his eyes not leaving the brown pickup truck and its owner, who was now starting to unload a few boxes. He was stacking them by a concrete wall, each labelled with basic terms of what was inside.


    ¡°That name sounds familiar.¡± Mathew commented, watching as a box labelled ¡® Antique lamps¡¯ was placed gently on the pavement.


    ¡°He runs the heritage society.¡± Albert stated, and Mathew instantly understood the implication. The Sheriff had directed Mathew to reach out to Ben Olson at the Heritage Society if he wanted more information about ¡®The Pit,¡¯ the supernatural feature near California that Champions had sealed.


    ¡°The creatures came from the Pit. Do you think he knew?¡± Mathew whispered. They were close to him now, and the ¡®Buzz¡¯ was striking Mathew with a vengeance. It took every ounce of Willpower to fight the urge to flee, and his fingers made nervous twitches as he resisted the idea of burning the truck and its owner to ashes.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Doesn¡¯t matter. The sale of items from the Pit is regulated. Ignorance isn¡¯t a defence, not with something this important. I¡¯ll do the talking. Watch my back.¡± The Sheriff asked, ending his sentence just as they came up to Ben.


    ¡°Ben, how are ya?¡± Albert said, his hand not leaving his pistol. To any observer, he looked like he was at ease, but Mathew could see the tension in the Sheriff. He was a coiled spring, ready to act at a moment¡¯s notice.


    ¡°Howdy Albert. Bringing Mr. Larson around to see the sights?¡± Ben replied causally, stopping his unloading and stretching his back.


    Ben Olson was tall and still in good shape despite his age. A former soldier was tanned and had a five o¡¯clock shadow that suited his button-up shirt, brown suit jacket and jeans over a pair of cowboy boots.


    ¡°Something like that. Mind if I ask you what you¡¯re bringing to market today?¡± Albert asked, his tone serious. Ben must have caught onto the change in attitude as his face hardened slightly.


    ¡°Just some odds and ends that we had in storage. I¡¯m trying to make room for a new shipment of items in a couple of weeks.¡± Ben explained.


    ¡°Uh-huh. Wouldn¡¯t happen to have anything from the Pit, would you?¡± Albert inquired, and Ben scoffed.


    ¡°Of course not. Aside from it being illegal to sell without a permit, Pit relics are too expensive to be trotted out at a flea market, Albert. What¡¯s all this about?¡± Ben retorted.


    ¡°We¡¯ve tracked the source of the disappearances to this market. More specifically, to you. I¡¯m going to have to ask you to step away from the vehicle, Ben.¡± Albert ordered, and this time, his hand was gripping his pistol, ready to draw. The Sheriff was no longer trying to play it causal, and Mathew tensed alongside him.


    ¡°This is ridiculous, Albert! There¡¯s nothing in that truck but some old junk that I had lying around.¡± Ben protested.


    ¡°Then you won¡¯t mind stepping away from it and allowing Mr. Larson to have a look.¡± Albert countered. Still protesting, Ben and Albert walked down the parking lot a bit, leaving Mathew alone with the brown pickup. He could still hear the pair talking, the Sheriff calmly asking questions while Ben was growing more irate.


    Pushing the noise out of his mind, Mathew focused his senses on the pickup. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ was still there, louder than ever.  He wanted to burn the truck and everything in it right there, but the problem was he doubted his conjured flames would do the trick as it was.


    The truck was too high off the ground, and if he conjured a fire in the truck bed, he wasn¡¯t sure he could burn all of it at once. The creature showed that it would strike or flee if threatened, and he couldn¡¯t risk it leaving. Not when they finally had it.


    He needed to find the monster and isolate it, then he could destroy it.


    Nervously, Mathew reached for the first box from the truck bed. He wouldn¡¯t open it, just set them all aside and burn them, one after another.


    His fingers had just touched the cardboard when the truck bed exploded.

 Chapter 39 – Floor 4: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 39</u> ¨C Floor 4: Part 7


    The force of the explosion shoved Mathew backwards, slamming him down against the pavement nearly two dozen feet from where he had been.


    Cardboard and antiques rained down on the parking lot as the brown pickup truck began to shake violently. Where Albert was standing, it appeared the truck was acting like a wet dog, shaking to get water off its body.


    The crowd was stunned, frozen, staring at the impossible actions of the vehicle. A loud howl came from the car, and the front chrome grill split apart to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth. Its headlights blinked and formed into eyes.


    Albert¡¯s mouth moved soundlessly. The terror and surprise had robbed him of words. The truck was alive! The entire vehicle was the monster they had been looking for. This wasn¡¯t a tiny lamp that could be fought off. This was a full-sized pickup truck!


    With another terrifying scream, the truck accelerated toward the crowd. In a flash, it was nearly on some of the attendees, its mouth wide open to devour its first victim. Fumbling with his revolver, Albert had almost removed it from its holster when a hand closed down around his, keeping it in place.


    Ben Olson was watching the rampaging truck monster with a bemused expression, like a parent watching a toddler.


    ¡°Ahh, you¡¯ve gone and done it now. You should have just let it go. Eight lives is a small price to pay to keep it satiated. It¡¯s a pity, but we can¡¯t have any witnesses now, can we?¡± Ben mused, his face splitting into an inhuman grin that was too large for the size of his face. His teeth were sharpened into points, and his eyes shifted in appearance until they were catlike.


    ¡°Wha-¡± Albert tried to speak, but Ben¡¯s hand pierced the Sheriff¡¯s chest before he could finish a word. With a wet suction sound, Ben pulled his gore-covered hand from the gaping wound. Albert collapsed, breathing his last as his vision darkened.


    ¡°Tut tut tut. You¡¯re all going to have to die.¡± Ben Olson stated, looking around at the fleeing crowd with disdain.


    ¡°Oh well, no rest for the wicked.¡± Ben sighed, licking the blood from his fingers as he considered who would be his next target. In a blur, he dashed toward the nearest human.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew rolled over on the ground, the wind having been knocked out of him from the force of his impact into the pavement. Even with his enhanced strength, it took him a moment to recover. Finding his footing once more, he was greeted with the sight of complete chaos.


    The monster, resembling an amalgamation of creature and truck, was skidding around the park lot, devouring anyone unfortunate enough to get in its way. The ground had streaks of blood and viscera obscuring large parts of the pavement but no bodies.


    Those who were fortunate enough to get away from the creature were being cut down by Ben Olson, whose own features had twisted into a caricature of a human being. Covered in gore, whatever it was that had taken his appearance was laughing as it slaughtered the defenceless humans.


    Looking around quickly for the Sheriff, Mathew saw his unmoving figure a few dozen feet away. His was one of the only bodies that appeared whole, although the growing pool of blood told Mathew that Albert wouldn¡¯t be able to help him this time.


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    On his feet at last, Mathew was about to rush toward Ben Olson when a body came flying toward him from the exit to the market. Ben had tossed one of his victims at Mathew, and only a quick dodge at the last moment kept it from hitting him.


    ¡°Now now, Mr. Larson. Aren¡¯t you forgetting something?¡± Ben taunted, pointing with a finger coated crimson at the truck monster behind Mathew. He could hear it roaring, matching the terrified screams of its victims.


    While Mathew was indecisive over what direction to go in first, Ben Olson killed the last remaining person trying to leave. With a happy little wave, he began to back away.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be seeing you, Mr. Larson.¡± In an instant, he was gone, and Mathew cursed as he spun around to help those people who were still alive.


    Snapping his fingers, he created a fire under the creature only to have it spin its wheels and drive past it. Mathew saw its eyes lock onto him, and it sped toward him, its mouth open wide. Leaping out of the way, Mathew created another fire, this time in the vehicle''s cab.


    The creature roared in pain, thrashing once more as its whole body trembled. For a moment, the illusion that it was a pickup truck vanished. In its place was a blob of flesh, all teeth and eyes, before it snapped back into its previous form.


    Using the time it was incapacitated, Mathew opened his inventory and retrieved the Goblin Knife that he had kept from the third floor. It still had some of his blood on the edge. He had put it into his inventory shortly after the Goblin who wounded him was dead.


    Angry at the assault, the creature ignored everything as it sped toward Mathew again. This time, Mathew timed his jump perfectly. As the truck monster opened its mouth and snapped its jaws to engulf him, Mathew leapt out of the way, striking with his knife at the monster¡¯s right eye.


    Stabbing it into its flesh, the creature roared with pain. Not letting up, Mathew snapped his fingers and conjured another fire inside the cab.


    ¡°Just have to time this right.¡± Mathew muttered, waiting as the tremors that morphed the monster ceased, and its remaining eye found him again.


    Backing up, Mathew judged the distance to the office building behind him. A concrete wall, he hoped that it was thick enough to stop the monster cold.


    Spinning its wheels to gain momentum, the monster hurtled toward Mathew, who had backed up until he was nearly pressed into the concrete. At the last moment, he rolled out of the way as the truck slammed into the concrete. The wall held for a moment before collapsing, crushing the creature and pinning it into place.


    ¡°Die, you bastard!¡± Mathew shouted, pouring his mana into a fire that engulfed the debris and the creature beneath. For nearly a minute, the white-hot flames burned, and the monster screamed and howled as it charred.


    It wasn¡¯t until it stopped crying out and Mathew ran out of mana that he stopped.


    Collapsing onto the ground, Mathew couldn¡¯t even muster the energy to stand as a loud ¡®Ding!¡¯ rang out. Burning words appeared in the air above his silver wristband.


    Floor 4 Complete!


    You have successfully solved the mystery of Arlen¡¯s missing citizens. The entire town is grateful for your assistance.


    Completion Bonus: You have been promoted to Level 10! Your next Discipline may be selected for free!


    Please Proceed to Floor 5 immediately.


    The statement vanished, and his status appeared.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: N/A (Please select a new Discipline)


    Coward (Level 5)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 10


    Aether Required For Next Level: N/A (Free discipline selection Available.)


    Aether: 65000


    Attributes


    Body: 2.7


    Mind: 3.0


    Spirit: 0.3


    Blessings


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Max Tier)


    Energy coursed through Mathew¡¯s body, replenishing his stamina and his mana. He felt stronger, his mind clearer, and he drew in a deep breath of air. He felt invigorated until he thought about the loss he just experienced.


    Weary in spirit, not body, Mathew climbed to his feet and looked toward the body of the Sheriff. There was no one left alive in sight. Those few that survived had fled, leaving nothing but a few corpses behind that hadn¡¯t been devoured.


    Mathew was about to walk over to Albert when the elevator appeared. Unlike other times when he had an option to stay on a floor longer, the elevator appeared around him. He was already standing in it, the doors sliding closed before he could respond.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Mathew said, trying to get out, but they refused to respond. Even with his enhanced strength, he couldn¡¯t keep them from closing.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Mathew whispered as his sight of Floor 4 was cut off.

 Chapter 40 – Floor 5: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 40</u> ¨C Floor 5: Part 1


    Trapped in the empty elevator once again, Mathew¡¯s wristband began to vibrate as burning letters appeared on the wall next to him.


    Please select a new Discipline.


    ¡°Confirm.¡± Mathew muttered, and the words disappeared, only to come back again with a different statement. There were three small pictures on the wall now, with descriptions of his options beneath. Familiar with the process, Mathew carefully studied his choices.


    After experiencing the problems ¡®Coward¡¯ influenced on his psyche, Mathew was going to be very hesitant with his following Discipline. Each floor was becoming more dangerous, and he didn¡¯t want to have to fight his own Discipline along with whatever he was facing on the floor.


    Discipline: Allurer


    Rarity: Uncommon


    Attributes per Level: Body +, Mind +, Spirit +


    Summary: You have a way with words. People inherently trust you, and you have always used that to your advantage. A sweet talker, a silver-tongued wordsmith.


    Unique Blessing: Charm


    Summary: Using your abundant charisma, you attempt to charm a single humanoid within the range of your voice. If you succeed, the charmed humanoid will regard you as a close friend. Once the blessing ends, by your choice or after an hour, the charmed humanoid will know you used your power on it.


    Note: Your willpower will compete against your target for success. If you fail, expect a hostile reaction.


    Cost: Free (Granted as a floor completion bonus.)


    The image of this Discipline was of Mathew, his arm over the shoulders of another person who was looking at him with near devotion. This form of Mathew was wearing similar clothing to what he wore now.


    Mathew felt disgusted by this Discipline. He wasn¡¯t a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but something seemed terribly wrong about forcing someone to become friends with him. What secrets would they be willing to reveal, or actions would they perform, under the effects of this blessing?


    After putting this one of contention, he turned to the next.


    Discipline: Operative


    Rarity: Common


    Attributes per Level: Body ++, Mind +


    Summary: Infiltration, solving mysteries and extracting information. You use every scape of knowledge to accomplish your goals. Nothing can remain hidden from you if you are dedicated enough to uncover it.


    Unique Blessing: Disguise


    Summary: You can make yourself look different for an hour under the effects of this Blessing. You craft an illusion to disguise your clothing, body and equipment. A foot taller or shorter, fat or thin, you can shift your features slightly to appear as a different person. But the illusion isn¡¯t reality, and a single touch will alert others to your deception.


    Cost: Free (Granted as a floor completion bonus.)


    ¡°Like a secret agent.¡± Mathew commented. He had been involved in solving a mystery, so it made sense that this Discipline would present itself. He was curious about the comments the gods made about his actions on the last floor that they had granted him these strange disciplines.


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    The thought immediately made him feel a pang of regret. He had let Albert die and Ben Olson escape. Rationally, he knew there was nothing he could have done to keep the Sheriff alive, but it still stung. He couldn¡¯t help but think that maybe if someone like Samuel had been there, Albert would have survived.


    Shaking those thoughts away, Mathew considered this option for a Discipline. Disguising himself could be useful, he supposed, but every floor he had been on had thrown him into either combat or being the focal point as a champion.


    He didn¡¯t really see the need to hide who he was. It was possible it could be invaluable in the future, but he had been making do just fine as it was without it.


    The third image was the strangest one of all. It was of Mathew standing behind the corner of a building on a dark street, a broad grin on his face as he made a rock fly toward a shadowy figure walking down the road in the distance.


    Not having a clue about what this Discipline was from the picture, Mathew skimmed the summary.


    Discipline: Trickster


    Rarity: Rare


    Attributes per Level: Body +, Mind ++


    Summary: Magic is a gift, a blessing from the gods. Instead of its intended purpose, you use it frivolously and often for selfish means. A trickster who delights in obscuring the truth, using your blessing in strange and outrageous ways.


    Unique Blessing: Catapult


    Summary: Pointing at an object that is not being worn or carried, you may have it travel in a straight line at high velocity before falling to the ground.


    Tier 1: Object must be one pound or less / Thirty-foot travel distance / Slow velocity


    Tier 2: Object must be three pounds or less / Sixty-foot travel distance / Medium velocity


    Tier 3: Object must be five pounds or less / Ninety-foot travel distance / High velocity


    Cost: Free (Granted as a floor completion bonus.)


    Of the three, ¡®Trickster¡¯ was the only one that appealed to Mathew. ¡®Allurer¡¯ was distasteful and disgusting, while ¡®Operative¡¯ seemed to be only helpful in a few situations. With the Trickster¡¯s blessing of Catapult, Mathew could already think of some synergies with his ¡®Control Flames¡¯ Blessing.


    He could fling a container of oil or something similar and light it on fire.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take Trickster.¡± Mathew confirmed, and the familiar rush of energy swept through him again. Unlike his previous Discipline, Mathew¡¯s clothing didn¡¯t change at all. Perhaps it was time for him to spend some of his accrued Aether on magical items.


    ¡°I have sixty-five thousand, and I¡¯m sure there¡¯s something good in the shop. But I¡¯ll wait until I find out what the next floor holds. I would hate to spend it on something I don¡¯t need.¡± Mathew reasoned with himself.


    Upgrading ¡®Catapult¡¯ to tier 2 would cost him sixty thousand Aether, meaning he needed to choose between items or the upgrade. He wanted to test it first before making a decision.


    ¡°Judgement.¡± Mathew stated, looking at his wrist expectantly for the statements regarding the gods and their opinions of him to show.


    The gods have chosen to withhold judgment until you have completed the adjoining floor.


    ¡°Strange.¡± Mathew commented, never having experienced that before. Why would they want to wait?


    The elevator let out a loud ¡®Ding¡¯ to announce that he had arrived at his destination. It hadn¡¯t been more than a few minutes since it began to move, making this one of the fastest transitions between floors Mathew had experienced.


    Before the doors opened, the burning words providing the summary to the floor hovered in the air above his silver wristband, the first time it had ever done that. Typically, Mathew would exit to a Floor and then receive the summary. An uneasy feeling began to grow inside his stomach as he read it.


    Floor 5: The Pit


    It has been a month since the Greater Mimic impersonating Ben Olson vanished from Arlen, Texas. Leaving a trail of bodies in its wake, it returned to where it had been born, The Pit. Sealed decades before by a party of Champions, the Pit has once again been opened, and the Earth is in danger.


    Objective: Journey into the depths of the Pit with the other Champions and seal it once more.


    Mathew had to reread the summary to ensure he read it correctly. If it were true, and he had no reason to doubt it, the elevator had brought him to the same Floor, only forward in time. He would be returning to the same world he had just left a month later.


    ¡°The Pit.¡± Mathew muttered in worry.


    Albert had said it was on the border of California and that the army was still stationed next to it to ensure that nothing went in or came out. If it had been opened again, there was no telling what dangers lurked within.


    Ben Olson was something called a ¡®Greater Mimic.¡¯ Mathew wasn¡¯t familiar with the term, but it sounded like he was a shapeshifter of a higher class than the ¡®Lamp¡¯ and the ¡®Truck¡¯ he had fought. To be honest, Mathew wasn¡¯t looking forward to another confrontation.


    All of his opponents so far had been relatively unintelligent, even the Goblins. Ben Olson had been intelligent, cunning and cruel.


    The doors opened, and Mathew returned to the world he had just left.

 Chapter 41 – Floor 5: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 41</u> ¨C Floor 5: Part 2


    It was nighttime when Mathew exited the elevator. The sky was cloudy, and a light drizzle of rain made him zip up his jacket against the cold.


    There was a large structure in the distance, lit with searchlights until it practically glowed. The clouds above reflected the light back down onto it, ensuring that Mathew could not mistake it for what it was.


    It was a military outpost, and there was even a chain-link fence with guard towers surrounding the entire thing. A road ran past him to his right, snaking its way through the field and hills until it reached a gate. Mathew could see a few men in military uniforms holding rifles at the entrance.


    ¡°That must be the Pit.¡± Mathew muttered.


    He had expected to see a wide open hole in the ground, with the army stationed around it. But it seemed that they had built a structure on top of it, literally sealing it off from the outside world. It was unfortunate that their efforts had been in vain. The things within had already escaped.


    Mathew was about to step forward when he heard another ¡®ding¡¯ followed by the sudden appearance of three other elevators. A trio of other Champions exited, and Mathew stopped moving in order to wait for them to approach.


    The ¡®Buzz¡¯ didn¡¯t alert him to a threat, so Mathew assumed they were on the same level as himself.


    The leader was a tall and muscular man, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He held a large hammer in two of his hands. His face was scarred, with a particularly large one on his cheek that pulled his lips up into a grin.


    ¡°Oscar, Forger.¡± The lead man said as soon as he stopped in front of Mathew.


    ¡°Mathew, Trickster.¡±


    ¡°Alivia, Drafter.¡± The next Champion greeted them as she joined them. She was wearing a long, black coat over a pair of grey pants and a white shirt. She was holding a deck of cards in her hand, idly shuffling them as she waited.


    Mathew had seen someone else wielding a deck of cards on one of the other floors, but he had no idea what it did. He guessed he would find out shortly. If they were to work together, they would need to trust in each other¡¯s abilities.


    The last Champion wore a sweater with a hood over a pair of blue jeans. Mathew estimated he was a teenager, and the young man kept his distance from the others.


    ¡°Ken. Burglar.¡± The young man stated and didn¡¯t offer anything more.


    ¡°So, we¡¯re to cleanse the Pit? I fought one of those ¡®Greater Mimics¡¯ on the last floor, nasty bastard.¡± Oscar spoke loudly, his voice boomed in the dark. Mathew looked at the forger in surprise.


    ¡°You did? We¡¯re you in Arlen as well?¡± Mathew asked, and Oscar shook his head.


    ¡°Maple, Tennessee. There was a string of disappearances. Turns out it was a bunch of random items eating people. Same for you?¡± Oscar replied, and everyone in the group nodded.


    ¡°Different towns across America, but similar situations. How many of these things escaped the Pit?¡± Mathew muttered.


    ¡°We¡¯re wasting time.¡± Alivia added, looking at the structure in the distance. It would probably be a half an hour''s walk, and the darkness was already beginning to have a tinge of sunlight on the horizon. It would likely be dawn by the time they arrived.


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    They began to talk about their abilities as they walked.


    ¡°I¡¯m a Forger. Started as a Smithy, then moved onto Artisan.¡± Oscar explained.


    ¡°So you can make things?¡± Mathew asked, and Oscar nodded.


    ¡°Basically. Pure body stats the whole way so that I can hit like a truck. Plus, I have a few creations that can help out in a tight spot.¡± Oscar finished, and it was Mathew¡¯s turn.


    ¡°Charlatan, into Coward then Trickster. I can create a fire.¡± Mathew snapped his finger, creating a bonfire in the distance before smothering it.


    ¡°I can also do this.¡± Mathew finished, pointing at a small rock on the ground. With a silent command and a push of mana, the rock shot forward as if someone had picked it up and thrown it as hard as they could. It sailed through the air from hitting the ground, sending a puff of dust skyward.


    ¡°Cute.¡± Alivia responded.


    ¡°What can you do?¡± Mathew retorted, irked that she was making fun of him. Alivia stared at him for a moment before responding.


    ¡°I can purchase ¡®cards¡¯ from the shop for Aether. Spells, summons, even items.¡± Alivia explained.


    ¡°That sounds overpowered. What¡¯s the downside?¡± Oscar asked. Like Mathew, he had seen players holding cards on some of the other floors but hadn¡¯t seen it in action.


    ¡°What I get is random, and I can only use one card at a time. And they''re expensive, so I won¡¯t be wasting them.¡± Alivia responded. It was like the admission was costing her something. Mathew had a feeling she was stingy with her Aether and would only be helping them if she had no other choice.


    ¡°And you?¡± Oscar coaxed the youngest member of their group into answering. Ken seemed reluctant to speak, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly at suddenly being the center of attention.


    ¡°I¡¯m good at finding anything that¡¯s hidden or picking locks and disarming traps. That sort of thing.¡± Ken stated, and the others didn¡¯t push for more information. It was like pulling teeth to get an answer from him.


    The sun had crested the horizon, turning the sky a bleak grey as they neared the front gate of the military base that covered the Pit. The guards had spotted them a while ago and were waiting patiently for them to approach.


    If the men had any concerns over how they were dressed or that they had suddenly appeared from the middle of nowhere, the guards didn¡¯t voice them.


    Once they were within shouting range, one of the soldiers held up his hand to halt them.


    ¡°Stop right there! This area is off-limits. You¡¯re going to need to go back to wherever you came from.¡± The guard said, and Oscar snorted at the statement.


    ¡°Look, we¡¯re here on behalf of the gods to seal the Pit. You got a problem with that? Take it up with them.¡± Oscar replied, not slowing his steps. The guard raised his rifle, pointing it at the large, hammer-wielding man.


    ¡°I said stop! This area is on lockdown, and no one gets in.¡± The guard repeated, and his two fellows followed suit. Mathew was about to speak, to ask to speak to their commander when Ken interrupted him.


    ¡°They''re not human.¡± Ken said in a loud whisper that his companions could hear, but the guards couldn¡¯t. Mathew turned to the Burglar, wondering how he knew that. The young man only shrugged.


    ¡°I can tell.¡±


    ¡°Good enough for me.¡± Oscar said. Before the guards could respond, the Forger was leaping forward. His body stat was enough to propel him through the air. His hammer was raised before the lead guard could even track his movement.


    With a crash, Oscar slammed the hammer down onto the guard''s head. Expecting to see it splatter like a melon, Mathew was shocked when the weapon sank into the guard''s head. The guard¡¯s head deformed from the impact as if he were striking soft clay. The body began to writhe and morph, collapsing onto the ground and turning into a blob with eyes and teeth.


    ¡°Mimics!¡± Mathew shouted, pointing at a nearby rock the size of his fist. Using his ¡®Catapult¡¯ Blessing, the rock shot forward toward one of the other guards, where it struck its rifle. The weapon snapped out of its hands as the creature spun around from the force of the attack.


    Oscar, having removed his hammer from the dead mimic, struck the unarmed creature as it was off balance, burying his hammer into its back. With another blow, he collapsed its head.


    Turning to the last guard, Oscar was surprised to find that it had a knife sticking out of its forehead, while another had stabbed through its hand, preventing it from firing. It slowly fell, collapsing and writhing like its companions.


    Ken had another knife ready in his hand, about to throw it, when he realized there was no need.


    ¡°Well, Burglar, aren¡¯t you full of surprises?¡± Oscar commented, bending forward to pull the knives from the dead mimics and handing them back to the young man. Ken nodded in thanks.


    Unsurprisingly, Alivia hadn¡¯t done anything during the short fight. Holding onto her deck, she responded to the unspoken criticism.


    ¡°What? You had it handled.¡±

 Chapter 42 – Floor 5: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 42</u> ¨C Floor 5: Part 3


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t there be more people here?¡± Alivia commented as the four Champions entered the main base.


    The sealing structure was massive, covering the entirety of the Pit. Miles wide, the army base built to contain the creatures within was the size of a city, with streets and buildings ringing the Pit.


    There wasn¡¯t a soul in sight, where Mathew typically assumed there would be hundreds, if not thousands, of people.


    He remembered what Albert told him about the Pit, how items brought out from within were magical and worth a lot of money on the surface. He wondered if the trade of those items sustained this base and the people working here.


    ¡°The Mimics probably got them. Watch everything. They could be hiding as the most mundane objects.¡± Oscar advised.


    Ken was on edge, his head constantly turning left and right as he searched for even the slightest sign of danger. Mathew wasn¡¯t sure how the teen spotted the irregularities with the gate guards, but he appreciated Ken¡¯s abilities at this moment.


    ¡°All of them? Shit, what are we walking into?¡± Alivia replied, nervously flicking a card from her deck with his fingernail.


    ¡°We take it as it comes, one step at a time. We should search the base first before trying to enter the Pit. I don¡¯t want to go in there just to have someone lock the door behind us or stab me in the back.¡± Oscar muttered, and Mathew agreed with the sentiment.


    There wasn¡¯t a time limit on this floor, meaning they could take it at their own pace. It was better to be slow and careful than rush into a situation where they had no idea what was waiting for them.


    ¡°Agreed. Ken, point out anything odd. We hit first and ask questions later. Alivia, don¡¯t hold back with the cards, I get the feeling we¡¯re going to need all the firepower we can get. There¡¯ll be more than enough Aether to purchase more cards.¡± Mathew said.


    The mimics they had killed outside had given each of them thousands of Aether, even after whatever power controlled their silver wristbands automatically divided the spoils between the four of them. This floor was exceedingly dangerous but also profitable.


    They started by searching the more prominent buildings, which were as empty as the streets outside. After nearly an hour, they didn¡¯t think there was anyone left alive when their party came upon a group of people barricaded in a fortified bunker at the rear of the complex.


    There were over forty people, with a dozen rifle-wielding guards who aimed at Mathew and the others from around a line of concrete barriers.


    ¡°Halt! Keep your hands where we can see them!¡± A soldier shouted, and Mathew felt a sense of Deja vu. It was like a near similar scene to the gate guards, only this time their party looked to Ken, who shook his head to signal that they were indeed human.


    ¡°We¡¯re Champions, sent here to seal the Pit!¡± Oscar shouted, his voice echoing across the distance between them. They were careful not to make any sudden movements as they didn¡¯t want to scare the first real people they had come across on this Floor.


    They could hear whispers amongst the soldiers, then the crackle of a radio. Soon, the door to the bunker behind them was opening, revealing a middle-aged man in an officer¡¯s uniform. He stopped just behind the guards, still wary of them.


    ¡°Sergeant, the device.¡± The officer ordered, looking to another soldier who was standing behind the guards. He had a large backpack on, with a strange apparatus that looked to Kal to be an oversized tuning fork.


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    Slowly walking toward them, the sergeant held the device up, and it began to emit a whine while sending sparks between its two forks.


    ¡°What the hell is that?¡± Alivia asked, concerned about the obviously dangerous device approaching them.


    ¡°If you¡¯re Champions, you won''t have a thing to worry about. These creatures react to the electric field the sergeant is generating. If you are taking the appearance of a human, we¡¯ll know soon enough.¡± The officer said.


    Mathew watched curiously as the Sergeant began to wave the contraption around them. He could hear it hum and hiss before the man withdrew it. Turning back to the officer, he nodded.


    ¡°They¡¯re clean.¡±


    ¡°Very well. Please, come forward. I apologize for the treatment, but we had to be sure. We¡¯ve lost half the base to these monsters before we could come up with a way to identify them.¡± The officer said, meeting them halfway and extending his hand.


    ¡°Colonial Nielson. I¡¯m acting commander of the base.¡± The officer was introduced, and a round of introductions from Mathew and the others soon followed it.


    ¡°We have teams securing the surface, but the containment seal on the Pit is intermittent. Every few hours, the electric field we used to keep everything back fails, and we get a wave of these ¡®Mimics.¡¯ Luckily, none of the more dangerous creatures have breached the surface.¡± Nielson explained.


    ¡°Half your base is gone, and you don¡¯t consider these ¡®Mimics¡¯ dangerous?¡± Oscar asked with surprise.


    ¡°If creatures taking the form of our base personnel and everyday objects were the only thing down there, you wouldn¡¯t have been summoned. We aren¡¯t sure how long the seal has been failing, but by the time our engineers discovered it, many of our people were already replaced.¡± Nielson responded.


    ¡°What do you need us to do? Join in the search for Mimics?¡± Mathew asked, and Nielson shook his head.


    ¡°No. Something is draining the base¡¯s power, causing the seal on the Pit to weaken and fail. We¡¯ve been waiting for you to arrive. It¡¯s too dangerous to send anyone else down there. I need you to find and deal with whatever disrupts our energy supply.¡± Nielson explained, and Mathew felt his wristband vibrate.


    Objective Update: The seal on the Pit is growing weaker, allowing the creature within to breach the surface. Find and eliminate the source of the disruptions and cleanse the Pit.


    Note: Shop services and Leveling will be unavailable within the Pit. You cannot return to the surface until the objective is complete.


    The others were also reading the updated summary of their objectives. They shared a look, understanding the importance of the note at the end. They would need to prepare before venturing down, and there would be no turning back once they did so.


    The Shop and Level screens were accessible to Mathew as if the entire base was a Temple. They could purchase what they needed here before going down.


    ¡°How deep is the Pit, and what can we expect when we start to descend?¡± Alivia asked, and Neilson gestured for them to follow him into the bunker. It was small and cramped, the hallways narrow and the ceiling lower than expected.


    It was stifling, and Mathew could feel the weight of the concrete around him.


    ¡°It¡¯s a mile deep, but a warren of caverns is down there. I don¡¯t think we have explored half of it. The only reason we have been able to seal the Pit was due to past Champions'' efforts. I don¡¯t know what they did, but we¡¯ve been assured that this is the only exit.¡± Neilson explained.


    They came to a large room where various electronic devices monitored the station. Compared to Mathew¡¯s time, they were antiquated. A screen showed a simple outline of the base with a few red notifications Mathew took as a breach of the seal.


    ¡°You¡¯ll go in here.¡± Nielson said, pointing at a small entrance to the Pit next to a large red warning sign.


    ¡°Once you¡¯re inside, don¡¯t trust anything. We¡¯ve never properly catalogued the creatures inside, and the Champions were hesitant to speak of it. At least the few that came out.¡± Nielson explained. He pointed out a few other areas of interest, as well as some tips on how to navigate once they were inside.


    ¡°Good Luck.¡± Nielson said, shaking their hands again.


    Mathew and the others moved out of the command area of the bunker into a small side alcove. There, they began their preparations. Alivia seemed to be buying every card available in the shop and refused to explain to anyone what they did.


    Oscar was purchasing materials, and Mathew felt a small wave of power from him, a sure sign of a level-up.


    For Ken, the Burglar leaned against the wall, and Mathew didn¡¯t see him open his wristband once. Perhaps he had everything he needed in his inventory. The teen had been valuable so far, and he would hate to think that he would stumble now when it was the most important.


    For Mathew ,he purchased the next tier of ¡®Catapult,¡¯ upgrading the useful spell to 60 feet and medium velocity. He also spent the remainder of his Aether on a number of items, healing potions and sundries.


    As prepared as they would ever be, the four companions left the bunker and entered the Pit.

 Chapter 43 – Floor 5: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 43</u> ¨C Floor 5: Part 4


    Mathew walked down a poorly lit and narrow set of concrete steps leading to the pit''s entrance from the base. Oscar led the way, his hammer ready, while Alivia and Ken brought up the rear. Colonial Nielson had spared several of his soldiers to escort them.


    The temperature was rising, and the air became more humid as they finally left the staircase and came to a cleft in rock. There had been a gate here, but the metal fragments and shattered remnants of stone spoke of its destruction. There were a few entrances to the Pit from the base; most of them were still sealed, but this one was among the first to fail.


    Mathew could see traces of rust and corrosion on the metal bars that had punctured the stone to support the gate, and he suspected there was more than a power outage that caused the seal to break.


    ¡°We¡¯ll leave you all to it.¡± One of the soldiers said, giving them a quick salute as he and his companions practically fled.


    The damp air smelled of rot and earth and a faint spice that Mathew couldn¡¯t identify. He could taste it on his tongue.


    Not speaking to each other, the group wriggled their way through the cleft in the rock. It was narrow enough that Mathew was forced to turn sideways, but it was smooth and not even his loose clothing caught on anything as he pushed through.


    What greeted him was the disturbing sight of the Pit.


    A mile-wide cavity in the earth stretched before them. Their company stood on the edge, where the personnel from the base had erected scaffolding that ringed the perimeter and led down into the depths. The walls of the Pit were utterly smooth and made of hard rock. It was as if something had bored a hole into the surface of the Earth, perfectly round and even.


    It was unnatural, and as Mathew leaned over the edge of the railing, he could see that the army had installed lights at regular intervals for at least a few hundred feet before it ended in darkness. He couldn¡¯t see the bottom, and many of the lights flickered as the power seemed to be intermittent.


    The ¡®spicey¡¯ smell that was assaulting Mathew¡¯s noise grew more potent, and rather than the air being drawn into the bottom of the Pit, the reverse was true. A draft was coming up from the bottom of the hole, carrying waves of bright blue Aether.


    It was thick in the air, and Mathew felt like he could reach out and grab it. No wonder the Mimics were worth so much Aether when they died; the place was saturated with it. The mana within his body responded to the Aether, cycling through his body, and he felt an intense yearning for it.


    ¡°Steady.¡± Oscar said, placing a large, callus-covered hand on Mathew¡¯s shoulder. The smithy was sweating. A sheen of perspiration covered his forehead. Alivia had her eyes closed, a euphoric expression on her face as she took in the ambient Aether.


    Ken, on the other hand, was frozen stiff. He was staring at his surroundings with an expression of a prisoner awaiting the executioner. The teen was pale, and his lip trembled slightly.


    Turning away from the edge with a shudder as Mathew finally realized how far down it was, he checked his wristband on a whim. He had zeroed out his Aether before coming to the Pit, and, as expected, the shop and level-up tabs were greyed out.


    But to his surprise, he now had a small amount of Aether banked once more. It seemed that they could absorb some of the Aether here, only a few parts a minute, but it could accumulate.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get going, this place isn¡¯t safe.¡± Oscar said, shaking Alivia out of her stupor.


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    She was about to respond, her expression telling that it would have been a nasty comment when she shut her mouth with a click of her teeth. Oscar was right; this was no place to daydream.


    Ken was eager, immediately leading the way down the first flight of scaffold steps. Trying to keep quiet so as not to alert the entire place of their presence, the scaffolding wasn¡¯t cooperating. Each step made a clatter, and with the four of them working their way down, Mathew expected the echoes of their approach to be heard at the bottom.


    But nothing attacked them on the way. The Pit seemed as deserted as the base above. After nearly fifteen minutes of walking, they reached the end of the scaffold platform. The Pit continued to descend beneath them, but whoever had constructed the walkway had evidently decided this was far enough.


    There was a cave to their right, carved into the rockface, and Mathew could see in the artificial light installed that it curved downwards. This was one of the warrens Nielson had told them about. A maze of tunnels led to the bottom of the Pit.


    Oscar led the way forward, hefting his hammer, with Ken following closely. The teen was gripping a knife in his hands as if his life depended on it, and even Alivia had her card deck ready. In the rear, Mathew kept an eye on the path behind them. Even though they hadn¡¯t seen anything out of the ordinary on the way down, Mimics could be anything.


    Mathew had to be careful of his footing as they walked through the tunnel. The floor was mirror-smooth and unblemished. With every step, the air grew more humid, and the feeling of the Aether began to permeate their skin. It was intoxicating, and they had to fight the effects or lose themselves to the feeling.


    Aether was addicting, something every player in the Tower learned. It wasn¡¯t just the sensation of levelling up, the euphoria of getting stronger, more intelligent or the feeling of increased closeness to the gods; it was something more. It was like a drug, endless possibilities made into reality.


    In the distance, Mathew could hear the trickling sound of water, the steady dripping of liquid. The earthy smell grew stronger, but the ¡®spice¡¯ overpowered everything. It was in his mouth, on his tongue and at the back of his throat.


    The sloping passage gradually evened and opened up to a large chamber. The sound of dripping water was replaced by words whispered in the darkness. Mathew couldn¡¯t understand what they were saying; they were incomprehensible, but he felt he could recognize them if he was closer and listened harder¡­.


    ¡°What the hell is that?¡± Alivia whispered, her voice harsh in the silence. The sound of her speaking shook Mathew out of the stupor with whispers had brought, and he realized what she was referring to.


    The chamber was large and utterly cluttered with bones. They were everywhere, some small from animals while others were taller than any human Mathew had ever seen before. They covered the ground, and the Champions stopped at the edge of the field of bones, staring at a creature in the center of the room.


    It was a giant blob of flesh with hundreds of mouths filled with teeth. The whispers were coming from it, the incomprehensible words ushering from its mouths in a jumbled mess. The size of the creature dwarfed anything else around them, and it was far bigger than the Mimic Truck Mathew had faced on the last floor.


    It was slowly crawling across the ground, gobbling up the bones on the ground in some of its mouths and sucking them clean.


    ¡°It looks like one of the Mimics when I burned it.¡± Mathew replied quietly, not wanting to disturb the creature.


    ¡°Do we try to avoid it?¡± Oscar asked, to which Ken shook his head. The teen¡¯s eyes were locked on the monster, but he pointed at the bones on the ground, indicating that the noise from their crossing would immediately alert the blob.


    ¡°Then we kill it.¡± Alivia responded, her expression hardening. She was holding the deck of cards in her left hand while her right was placed on the top card, ready to draw it. Taking a deep breath, Mathew thought he heard her whisper something before she drew it.


    ¡°Yes! Fireball!¡± She whispered.


    Mathew felt a flare of mana from her as she tossed the card out. It flared with a bright red light before turning into a ball of fire that streaked toward the creature. The creatures stopped and shrieked in the last instant before the fireball reached it, its mouths opened wide.


    The horrid wailing pierced Mathew¡¯s mind, and he covered his ears with his hands, but it did nothing to stop it. It was inside his head, driving him mad.


    Thankfully, it cut off when a deafening roar of the fireball¡¯s detonation exploded in the center of the chamber. With a loud ¡®Whoosh,¡¯ all the air in the tunnel was drawn toward the fire. A rush of superheated air accompanied the blinding light.


    Mathew and the others dropped to the ground as the flames flared fiercely, and then died.


    Alivia had a smug look on her face as she climbed to her feet. Where the creature had stood, nothing remained but a burning pile of flesh. The overpowered spell had blown the monster into bits.


    Before she could speak, no doubt intending to gloat, another shriek came from the tunnel further down.

 Chapter 44 – Floor 5: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 44</u> ¨C Floor 5: Part 5


    Mathew ran as fast as he could, but even with his enhanced ¡®Body¡¯ stat, he could barely keep ahead of the crowd of ¡®Gibbering Mouthers¡¯. Ken had provided the name as he shouted for them to run. Mathew had no idea where the teen had heard about these creatures, and he didn¡¯t have time to ask.


    Without any other option, Mathew and the others retreated back the way they had come just as the first of the massive creatures made its way into the chamber of bones.


    He could understand why the floor was so smooth now. As the creatures pushed themselves across the floor, their skin made a screeching, grinding noise as they travelled. This movement was the source of the shrieking they had heard when Alivia killed the first of them with her card.


    ¡°Do something! Use another one of those Fireballs!¡± Mathew shouted as he snapped his fingers to create a fire behind him. The creatures were much larger than his conjured flames. The one in the lead merely trampled it, smothering the bonfire instantly.


    ¡°I can¡¯t! It¡¯s random! I don¡¯t get to choose what card I draw!¡± Alivia replied, her face white with fear as the grinding noise from the creatures drew closer. Oscar spun around, his hammer ready as he yelled.


    ¡°Just hold them for a moment! I need to get Bertha ready!¡± Oscar bellowed. He was taking pieces of an object out of his inventory with his left hand, placing them on the ground and tapping them into place with his hammer.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Alivia cursed, stopping her run and holding up her deck of cards once more. Ken flung a knife at the creature, where it buried itself into its spongy flesh and disappeared. The teen was a Burglar and wasn¡¯t cut out for front-line combat.


    To be honest, none of them were prepared to fight these creatures. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ was pounding in Mathew¡¯s head, telling him to run away as fast as possible. At least three of the monsters were in sight, but there were likely more behind them, blocked from his vision by their bulk.


    ¡°Please, let it be something good!¡± Alivia prayed to the deity in charge of her Discipline¡¯s Demesne. The god of Arbitrary Fortune granted her this discipline after she won a challenge on the first floor by pure luck.


    Drafter was powerful, with limitless potential. It was one of the few Disciplines that had no set limit for levels, meaning she wouldn¡¯t have to change to another unless she wanted to. But there were also powerful downsides.


    Cards were expensive to purchase and only came in three categories: Defensive, Offensive and Support. She had no choice in what card she pulled. It was random. Alivia could only control the number of cards in her deck from each category, which was limited to a maximum of one hundred.


    ¡°Circle of Protection!¡± Alivia called out as she drew the card.


    A line of runes surrounded her, glowing a bright blue as they expanded. They met the charging Mouthers with crackling energy, stopping them in their tracks for a second before the circle cracked and lost its mana. The Mouthers recovered in a moment and resumed their charge.


    ¡°That didn¡¯t do anything!¡± Ken yelled, and Alivia cursed again.


    ¡°Then you do something!¡± She replied. Mathe was already opening his inventory, taking out a large pottery jar of black tar and placing it on the ground. Activating ¡®Catapult,¡¯ he sent it flying toward the creatures. It shattered on impact, covering the lead monster in sticky and flammable tar.


    With a snap of his fingers, Mathew ignited the mixture, and the Mouther began to scream in agony as the flames travelled quickly over its bulky mass. Unlike the bonfire that Mathew conjured, this fire stayed in place even when he took another put of tar from his inventory and sent that sailing as well.


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    ¡°Nice work. Bertha¡¯s ready! Everyone stand back!¡± Oscar shouted, and Mathew finally got a good look at whatever the large ¡®Forger¡¯ had been constructing.


    Bertha was a cannon made of black iron and built on a large swivel. Oscar had stuffed something inside of it and ignited a fuse now inching its way toward the back of the cannon. The man was huddled behind it, his fingers in his ears comically.


    Mathew would have laughed at the sight if the Mouthers hadn¡¯t chosen that moment to begin rolling their bulk forward, smothering the flames that were covering the exposed flesh beneath them. Now, it was Mathew¡¯s turn to curse.


    The Mouther¡¯s didn¡¯t travel far before the fuse burnt out, and Bertha fired.


    The subsequent explosion made Alivia¡¯s Fireball seem like a simple firework to Mathew. The detonation was deafening; the noise and shockwave knocked Mathew off his feet. He skidded and slid on the smooth ground until he slammed into a wall.


    The heat wash was so intense that he felt his hair burning, and he had to shut his eyes against the light. The Coward¡¯s Mark began to burn on his chest as the explosion pushed him into the wall from the force.


    The Mouthers were obliterated, not just the three in the lead but the half dozen in the rear as well. When the fire and heat died down, Mathew was further impacted by globs of flesh and splashes of blood that rained down around him.


    Cracking open his eyes cautiously, Mathew was stunned by the detonation. Only bits and pieces remained of the Mouthers, while the tunnel floor, wall and ceiling were cracked, scratched and missing large chunks. He was surprised it didn¡¯t collapse and could only thank whoever had constructed this place.


    Bertha, Oscar¡¯s Cannon, was missing and in its place was a smoking crater. Evidently, the explosion had been too much for the weapon to contain, and it had been destroyed in the process.


    The Forger himself was dozens of feet away from where Mathew had last seen him. His hair was completely gone, as was most of his clothing. His ¡®body¡¯ stat had protected his flesh but not his equipment.


    Leaping to his feet, Oscar began to laugh wildly. Pointing at the devastation, Mathew could see his mouth moving, but no words could reach the Trickster¡¯s ears. He could only hear a loud ringing noise.


    Turning to look for the others, he found Alivia sitting on the ground with a stupefied expression on her face. Her deck of cards was still in her hands, but strangely, her boots were missing. He could see her painted toenails, the explosion must have blown off her shoes.


    Ken seemed to be in the best condition of the four of them. He had been the furthest away, ducking down as soon as Oscar had lit the fuse. Brushing the dust and dirt from his clothing, the teen replied to something Oscar was shouting, but no one aside from the Burglar could hear it.


    Blinking her eyes slowly, Mathew could see Alivia come back around. She tried to stand but fell backwards on her behind. Reading her lips, Mathew thought she was cursing wildly as she pulled out another card from her deck.


    Looking at it for a moment, Aliva tucked it back into the deck. Drawing more cards, it took her nearly a dozen before she found what she was looking for. Finally, she tossed it out in front of her with a muttered word.


    A wash of mana swept over them, driving away the ringing in Mathew¡¯s ears and healing the minor scrapes and burns he had. It was generally weaker than any other healing magic he had seen; even a potion was more effective, but it was enough.


    ¡°-Worked! Bertha, you beautiful monster! You were worth every scrap of iron in the shop!¡± Oscar yelled, and Mathew could finally hear him.


    ¡°Oscar, what in the hell was that!?¡± Alivia asked angrily, finally able to climb to her feet now that the healing magic had helped her ears. It had been making her off balance.


    ¡°Bertha. I told you.¡± Oscar replied, not understanding the question.


    ¡°You could have collapsed the whole tunnel!¡± Alivia shouted.


    ¡°And we could have been eaten by those things. I think Oscar made the right decision.¡± Mathew interrupted. His clothes were looking ragged, and his jacket was shredded and slightly smoking. Pulling it off, he tossed it away. It was warm enough without it, and he had spares in his inventory.


    ¡°See, Mathew appreciated it. Good iron is better than a flimsy card, in my opinion.¡± Oscar said snidely.


    ¡°How many more of those things do you have?¡± Mathew asked, and Oscar shook his head.


    ¡°Just Bertha. But don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m a ¡®Forger.¡¯ I have a few more surprises in store. I made sure to stock up before we headed out.¡± Oscar assured them, and Mathew shared a look with Alivia.


    ¡°Guys, whatever was down here definitely heard us. I think we should head back.¡± Ken suggested, only for all three of them to shake their heads.


    ¡°We can¡¯t. There¡¯s no going back now. We fight our way through.¡± Mathew responded, and Oscar nodded at the words.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, kid. We¡¯ll keep you safe.¡± Oscar said, slapping the teen on the shoulder.


    ¡°Or you¡¯ll kill us all first.¡± Alivia muttered, and Mathew agreed. Bertha had been terrifying. What other kinds of surprises did the Forger have in store for them?

 Chapter 45 – Floor 5: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 45</u> ¨C Floor 5: Part 6


    The tunnel looped around the bore of the Pit, coming to a stop at the very bottom where they could see the lowest portion of the Pit for the first time.


    The walls were wet with liquid, and the ground was soft, almost spongy. Mathew¡¯s feet sunk into the moist earth for a few inches. The Aether was thick in the air, making a blue fog that clung to the ground around his ankles.


    The wind made an almost rhythmic breathing sound as the draft pulled the atmosphere from the tunnels and up through the bore of the Pit. Looking around, Mathew heard his companions gasp in shock.


    There were bodies embedded into the walls. Most were only corpses, their decaying bodies rotting where they had been placed. But some were recent, and based on their uniforms, they were the soldiers and staff of the base above.


    ¡°Why are they here?¡± Alvia whispered. The Mimics and the other creatures had been intent on devouring their victims. Why were there dozens, if not hundreds, of bodies being stored at the bottom of the Pit?


    ¡°Don¡¯t go near them.¡± Ken warned, holding up his hand in warning to Oscar, who had been approaching the dead to see if there were any still alive.


    ¡°Mimics?¡± Mathew asked, and the teen shook his head.


    ¡°No, they just aren¡¯t right.¡¯ I can¡¯t explain it, but we shouldn¡¯t touch them.¡± Ken replied. If it were enough for the quiet teen to speak up, then the others would respect his opinion. He hadn¡¯t been wrong yet.


    ¡°Alright. What are we supposed to do now?¡± Mathew responded, gesturing vaguely around the circular Pit. There was only the single tunnel they had already travelled down, leaving the bottom of the Pit empty and without an exit.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. We haven¡¯t seen a Greater Mimic or anything else that could cause the power outage aside from those Mouthers. Maybe we¡¯ve already cleansed the Pit and need to fix the power?¡± Oscar asked, confused as to what their next step should be.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it would be that easy. Nielson said that the Pit was a warren of Caverns, but we¡¯ve only seen one tunnel and that cave with the bones. We¡¯re missing something.¡± Mathew stated, walking slowly to the center of the oval chamber. Far above him, the artificial lights the army installed shone brightly.


    He could even see the ¡®cover¡¯ they had installed over the opening of the Pit to seal it. Made of concrete and steel, it blocked the sky above them. The lights flickered momentarily as power was once again almost lost.


    His boots made squelching noises with each step, and the closer Mathew came to the center of the Pit, the deeper they sank.


    ¡°Do you hear that?¡± Ken asked suddenly, holding up his hand to grab the group''s attention. Mathew stopped walking, and the area was once again silent.


    ¡°Hear what?¡± Alvia inquired, not hearing a thing.


    ¡°It¡¯s like something is¡­ crawling? Wait, it stopped.¡± Ken replied, frowning for a moment. The teen suddenly knelt on the ground and placed his ear against the moist earth beneath them. He was silent for a moment before his head shot up again.


    ¡°There¡¯s something beneath us.¡± Ken hissed out, quickly stepping away from the center of the chamber.


    ¡°Everyone back against the wall.¡± Oscar ordered, and the others rushed to place themselves against the solid rock.


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    Fiddling with his hammer, Oscar opened up his inventory as he slogged slowly to the middle of the circular chamber. He placed a small, round object on the ground and observed it carefully before giving it a slight tap with his hammer.


    Mathew could hear it begin to hiss as soon as he did so, and Oscar ran as fast as he could toward the others. His boots sent up a spray of water, but it didn¡¯t hinder him as he scurried. Mathew plugged his ears against the expected explosion and wasn¡¯t disappointed.


    The ground shook with the force of the detonation, and a pillar of flame shot skyward. Mathew had expected there to be debris flying about from the blast, but oddly, the earth beneath the bomb didn¡¯t shatter.


    Instead, after the initial blast, there was another series of ¡®snaps¡¯, and the ground beneath the Pit began to sag. The earth tilted, gradually forming a steep slope until a final crack rang out, and the floor gave way.


    Luckily for the group, they were close to the wall and were protected. Mathew found that he was standing on the ledge of a deep ravine. Something had created a layer of dirt and webbing across the Pit to protect the deeper portion beneath.


    Like a spider¡¯s web, the group had been standing on an artificial structure.


    ¡°There!¡± Ken shouted, pointing at something that was skittering around the wall beneath them. It was similar to the Mouthers they had seen before, only this monster had long tentacles that would suction onto the smooth wall to propel itself forward.


    With a mass of eyes and teeth, the creature sprang up from beneath the destroyed web. It flailed its tentacles, and Mathew could see all of its thousands of eyes locked onto the group. The thing was massive, easily several thousand pounds of flexible and writhing flesh.


    ¡°Mathew! Fling this!¡± Oscar shouted, pulling another item out of his inventory. Not even looking at it closely enough to see that it was another orblike object, Mathew flicked a finger and sent it careening toward the approaching monster.


    It caught the creature in the center of its chest, and unlike the other bomb, this one didn¡¯t explode. Instead, it let out a ¡®whoosh¡¯ of greenish-grey mist with force. The vapour instantly surrounded the monster, and it let out a horrific screeching noise.


    The mist began to eat away at its flesh, and several of its tentacles had melted away in the second it took for it to land on the ledge beside them. The monster had large gaps in its flesh that bubbled.


    ¡°Hah! I traded an Alchemist for that solution a couple of floors back! Makes hydrofluoric acid look like tapwater.¡± Oscar bragged while the creature continued to flop around in pain. It was giving off a horrible stench that made Mathew gag.


    ¡°That¡¯s how you-¡± Oscar was cut off as one of the creature¡¯s tentacles shot out toward them from behind its back. It slapped into the ¡®Forger¡¯ before anyone could react, sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening ¡®splat.¡¯ He hung there for a moment before falling back to the ground and not moving.


    ¡°Christ, Oscar!¡± Mathew shouted, already moving toward the fallen man while Alivia drew a card.


    ¡°Come on¡­.Yes! Meteor Swarm!¡± She shouted as little balls of fire suddenly hovered above her head. They swirled around her in a slow pattern before shooting forward toward the monster. Each struck with tremendous force, exploding on impact, and the creature screamed again in pain.


    Before the last meteor could strike, the monster slid off the ledge and plummeted into the darkness below.


    Mathew reached Oscar just as the first meteor detonated. Through the flashes of light and the roars of the spell, he carefully turned the ¡®Forger¡¯ over. Even with his enhanced body stat, Oscar was in terrible shape. The impact had broken bones, and the man was bleeding profusely. But he was breathing.


    Reaching into his inventory, Mathew took out a potion of healing. Popping the cork with his teeth, Mathew poured the potion on the worst of Oscar''s wounds. The red liquid was instantly absorbed once it made contact with his skin, but it seemed to do nothing with the severity of Oscar¡¯s wounds.


    Taking out another, Mathew poured it on him while turning to Ken who was standing in shock.


    ¡°Give me whatever potions you have!¡± Mathew shouted, and Ken fumbled with his silver wristband. His hands were shaking too badly to work the interface quickly. By the time he had pulled a potion out, Aliva had returned to their side.


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother. He¡¯s done.¡± Alivia said, and Mathew turned to look at her angrily.


    ¡°No, he¡¯s not! Ken, give me the gods damned potion.¡± Mathew cursed, snatching the potion from the teen¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Mathew, look.¡± Alivia said again, kneeling down beside him and drawing his attention to Oscar. Sometime during Ken¡¯s attempts to withdraw the potion, the ¡®Forger¡¯ passed on. His chest was no longer moving, and the blood flowing from his wounds had slowed.


    Their party had lost its first member.

 Chapter 46 – Floor 5: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 46</u> ¨C Floor 5: Part 7


    Mathew stared at Oscar¡¯s body in stunned silence. He had been around people who had died before plenty of times. He had even lost close friends and companions on the previous floors, but it was the ease with which Oscar had been killed that left Mathew upset.


    They were supposed to be Champions, much more formidable than regular people. They were given the Blessings of the gods and fantastic Disciplines to enhance their abilities, but they could die just as quickly as all the others.


    While Mathew watched, Oscar¡¯s body gradually began to fade away. Faint sparkles of light began to drift into the air from where he had been. In moments, he was gone and in his place was a small bag.


    His wristband began to vibrate, indicating an incoming message from whatever entity was overseeing the Tower.


    You have lost a member of your Party. Their inventory will remain for your use. Floor rewards will be augmented due to increased difficulty.


    That was the first time Mathew had seen anything like this happen before. In the previous Floors, the bodies of players would remain. During the conflict with the Goblins, the locals would come out after a battle to collect the bodies and burn them.


    What was even stranger was that a player¡¯s inventory would never remain after they died. Whatever items were inside were lost forever. It was something Mathew and Greg had discussed in the past when dividing equipment. It had been a concern that if one of them died, the other would not be able to access what they had.


    ¡°Take it.¡± Alivia said, standing up from the ground and wiping a hand across the knees of her jeans to remove the dirt.


    ¡°Why me?¡± Mathew asked, tentatively reaching for the brown leather bag that had appeared.


    ¡°Because all you can do is create little fires and fling things. At least you can huck some of Oscar¡¯s explosives at whatever we¡¯re about to face.¡± Alivia reasoned, and Mathew nodded at the logical response.


    Picking up the back, it disappeared into motes of light the same way Oscar¡¯s body had vanished. Checking his Inventory, Mathew saw that he had several new items.


    He had a few more of those acid bombs that had killed the creature, as well as a few other bombs. There was also a wooden staff that had a strange aura about it. The inventory didn¡¯t give any description of it, but Mathew could only assume that it was magical in some way.


    Closing the inventory again, Mathew climbed to his feet and joined the others where they were peering over the cavern''s edge.


    The actual bottom of the Pit was only about a dozen feet or so below. As Colonia Neilson had explained, it was a warren of tunnels.


    Mathew could see dozens, if not hundreds, of passages honeycombing the walls beneath them. The body of the creature they had killed lay on the floor directly below, occasionally spasming in its death throes.


    ¡°Do you see a way down?¡± Mathew whispered, looking for a ladder or rope.


    Alivia looked at him with pity before she leapt from the ledge, landing silently on the ground beneath without trouble. Ken followed soon after, and Mathew was forcibly reminded of their enhanced strength from the ¡®Body¡¯ stat.


    An average person would have been injured from the fall, but to Players like them, it was just a short drop.


    Mathew felt the draft coming from below him as he dropped down. The Aether saturated the air beneath the ¡®web¡¯ the creature had made. Perhaps that was the point of it, to prevent Aether from escaping from below?


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    Whatever the reason, it lay so heavily about them that Mathew had trouble breathing. The spicy scent he had noticed above was also thicker to the point it was now burning his nostrils with every breath.


    ¡°Where do we go now? Ken, you take the lead.¡± Alivia said, turning to peer down one passageway to the next. It was a confusing mess, and neither Mathew nor she knew where to start.


    The Burglar looked about them for a moment, slowly walking to the center of the chamber to have as clear a view as possible. The teen even placed his ear against the ground and took deep, long breaths as if he were trying to source the Aether or the Spice in the air.


    After a few minutes, Ken pointed.


    ¡°This way.¡± The teen was pointing to a small tunnel to the group''s right, one that Mathew would not have noticed as it was wedged between two larger passageways, and the light barely highlighted its presence.


    ¡°How can you be sure?¡± Mathew asked in curiosity.


    ¡°The draft is coming from that tunnel. It¡¯s carrying Aether from below.¡± Ken explained as if it were obvious.


    ¡°Find where the Aether is coming from, and we can probably cleanse the Pit. Good going.¡± Alivia agreed, patting the teen on his shoulder as she walked forward. She had a tight grip on her deck of cards while Ken gripped a knife, ready to throw.


    As for Mathew, rather than preparing one of Oscar¡¯s bombs to throw and risk collapsing a tunnel or drawing too much attention to them, he had a small bundle of scrap iron rods. Each was around three pounds each and came in various sizes. The pieces had a pointy end that Mathew would ¡®Fling¡¯ at an enemy.


    Carrying the bundle his arms, he followed his companions into the passageway.


    The walls and floor were unchanging, and with nothing to break up the monotony, it felt like they walked in silence for hours. Mathew laboured under the weight of the bundle of iron, but he refused to put it away. After seeing how quickly death came for Oscar, he wanted to be ready.


    Finally, the passage opened, and a flood of light could be seen at the exit. Quickening their pace and straining their senses for danger, they broke out of the tunnel into a vast open space.


    They found themselves in a massive chamber, far more extensive than the circular Pit they had arrived in. The cavern arched hundreds of feet above their heads. Mathew could hear the steady sound of dripping water echoing throughout the space.


    What made the companions halt was what was filling the entirety of the Chamber floor. Thousands of large vats were stored here, each taller than a person. Lines extended from the tops that stretched to the ceiling above, and they could hear the vast bubbling as magical fires were lit under each one.


    Worse, there were more bodies to be found. Each of the vats had a glass viewing window in the side, and Mathew could see a corpse floating in clear liquid within.


    A haze of Aether permeated the ground, and the smell of spice was overpowering.


    ¡°Have you ever seen anything like this?¡± Mathew asked quietly. Ken shook his head, but Alivia paused for a moment before replying.


    ¡°I think¡­I think whatever did this is making Aether.¡± Alivia replied.


    ¡°Making it? I thought Aether was produced by the Tower?¡± Mathew responded, and this time, Ken provided the answer.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± Ken licked his lips nervously, staring at the vats as if the dead inside would awaken at any moment to attack them.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s inside living beings, and the Tower captures it.¡± Ken finished, and Mathew remembered something he had heard on one of the previous floors.


    ¡°The prayers and piety of the faithful, condensed into physical form. Someone is harvesting it.¡± Mathew whispered, and he suddenly heard the clapping of hands. The loud sound echoed throughout the chamber, and Mathew winced at the abruptness of it.


    ¡°Outstanding, Mr. Larson. You are bright!¡± Ben Olson sauntered into view. His inhuman features were hidden, and he appeared to be a regular person, but Mathew remembered the monster within.


    The Greater Mimic was joined by a dozen other creatures in human form.


    ¡°Aether. Wonderful, isn¡¯t it? Lifeblood of the gods, power beyond comprehension. And you ¡®Champions¡¯ use it to purchase a pittance while ignoring its true value.¡± Ben Olson finished. Their group stood in front of the Champions, and Mathew carefully set down his bundle of iron.


    ¡°What is it you¡¯re doing here?¡± Mathew asked, looking to buy them some time to prepare.


    ¡°Harvesting Aether, but you already knew that. Faith and Piety in physical form¡­accumulated over time. It¡¯s like farming, Mr. Larson. You can wait, hope and pray that the seed turns into a tree and eventually bears fruit, or you can go out and pillage another¡¯s field. It may be wasteful, but it''s efficient.¡± Ben Olson explained, waving his hand extravagantly to the vats around them.


    It was clear the Mimics were using the dead and dying bodies to create Aether through some unknown means. Mathew didn¡¯t know why they wanted it, although he could guess. Aether enhanced the Players of the Tower, and he imagined it could do a similar thing to these creatures.


    Mathew understood why they were called here to cleanse the Pit. These abominations had to be stopped.


    ¡°Now!¡±

 Chapter 47 – Floor 5: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 47</u> ¨C Floor 5: Part 8


    The sharp piece of iron rocketed forward as Mathew funnelled mana into the ¡®Catapult¡¯ spell. Piercing one of the Greater Mimics in its chest, the creature was unprepared for the sudden assault and couldn¡¯t dodge in time.


    The monster skidded backwards from the momentum of the Blessing, slamming into one of the vats where the piece of iron punctured the container and bent, trapping the Mimic in place. The frustrated Mimic, with the appearance of a human, tried to pull itself forward, but the twisted metal tangled with its body.


    While Mathew prepared another Catapult Blessing, Ken fanned a half dozen throwing knives in his hand like a fan. When he threw them, they sought their targets like guided missiles. Weaving around obstacles, each of the Blessing-enhanced Knives pierced a Mimic body.


    Even though it wasn¡¯t enough to kill them, there wasn¡¯t even any visible blood from the wounds, it slowed and hindered their movements.


    But it was Alivia who was the real threat.


    Pulling out another card from her deck, her face paled as she saw what it did. With no time to draw another and no choice on what the next card would do, she flipped it into the air while shouting the command word.


    ¡°Summon Fiend!¡± She said, a feeling of nervousness and trepidation in her stomach at the spell. There hadn¡¯t been many summoning spells in the shop, but they were amongst the most valuable cards she could get, so she had bought them all.


    The only problem was Fiends were notoriously fickle to summon and control. The shop description had warned her to be wary of whatever emerged from the card and not to let it slip her control for an instant.


    A circle of burning flames appeared, surrounding Alivia and the card that she had thrown on the ground. The cavern began to shake, and the air filled with smoke that smelled of sulphur. She could hear whispers in the distance and horrible laughter.


    The red and orange flames turned darker, crimson and pure black. The world was nothing but shadows and darkness.


    Alivia couldn¡¯t see anything outside of the circle of fire until a pair of scarlet eyes appeared from the shadows. A creature stepped into her view from beyond their world and stared at her with malevolence.


    It was a hound, as large as a horse and covered in spiky fur. Its claws dug into the stone, and each breath it exhaled was filled with smoke. It howled, and the terror shot down Alivia¡¯s spine.


    What had she summoned from hell?


    The Hellhound stared at her, and she could feel it trying to wrestle control of their bond away from her. The card had warned her this would happen, that it would pit its willpower against her own, and if she lost, it would consume her first before devouring everything else in sight.


    They fought each other for what felt like an eternity before the monster slowly submitted. Covered in sweat and exhausted, she pointed at the Mimics, who could finally be seen as the world returned to normal and the black flames extinguished.


    Time seemed to have stopped while she summoned the Hellhound, and the Mimics were astonished when the Hellhound leapt from the shadows and attacked them.


    Even the Greater Mimics had trouble stopping it, and the summoned monster tore into them. Its claws raked great rents in their malleable flesh, and when its teeth sunk into their bodies, it felt like they were burning.


    Ben Olson snarled like a beast as he watched the Champions try to resist the inevitable. He and the other Greater Mimics had a sacred purpose for their race and wouldn¡¯t let anyone get in the way. He had failed to exterminate the Champion in Arlen, Texas, but he would rectify that today.


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    In a blur, the Greater Mimic was moving. Weaving around the thrown knives of the small teen and the snapping jaws of the Hellhound, Ben Olson pounced on Mathew.


    The Trickster tried to catapult another scrap of iron toward the approaching monster, but Ben Olson easily evaded it. Even a conjured bonfire couldn¡¯t stop the enraged Mimic as it leapt through the flames and tackled him.


    Mathew felt the Coward¡¯s Brand burn on his chest, the mana flooding the symbols in response to the force of Ben Olson¡¯s monstrous grip on him. Despite his best efforts, Olson couldn¡¯t dig his fingers into the human¡¯s skin. Something was blocking him.


    Frustrated, he hurled Mathew across the room with every ounce of his strength.


    Mathew sailed through the air, careening over his fighting companions and slamming into a vat. Unlike when he had impaled a Mimic onto it earlier, this time, the vat was obliterated with the force.


    The air escaped Mathew¡¯s lungs, and he could hear bones breaking as he lay in the pile of debris. Strangely, there wasn¡¯t any pain at first. It took a moment for his mind to process it. When it did come, the agony washed over him in a wave that had him gritting his teeth to keep from crying out.


    Ben Olson turned his attention to one of the other Champions, only to see that Alivia had drawn another card.


    ¡°Prayer of Healing!¡± Alivia shouted, and a wave of mana washed over the three companions. Mathew felt his wound close, and his bones began to repair as the agony was driven back. But, while it allowed him to get back on his feet, it wasn¡¯t enough to completely heal him.


    Roaring in rage at Mathew¡¯s continued survival, Ben Olson rushed forward and gripped the Drafter¡¯s hand that held the deck of cards. Before she could respond, he twisted her arm. With a loud ¡®Snap,¡¯ the limb broke, and Alivia dropped the deck onto the ground, scattering the cards everywhere.


    Punching out with his right arm, he struck her in the head. Alivia was knocked out by the blow, falling to the cavern floor and not moving.


    Satisfied that she would no longer be a threat, Ben Olson turned to the others only to realize the error of incapacitating the Drafter. The Hellhound, free from the confines of its bond, let out a thundering howl of rage and hunger.


    Whatever constraints that had been placed on its power by its summoning were removed. The Hellhound quickly grew larger, and its fur began to burn with red fire. Where it had been having trouble fighting three of the Mimics, it was now able to toss them around like dolls.


    Its jaws snapped around the neck of one of its foes. With a tear, it ripped the Mimic¡¯s head off and swallowed it whole. It was incensed and frenzied, and even the Mimics feared the creature. They tried to run away, but the Hellhound prevented any escape.


    Ken threw another knife while he ran to Mathew¡¯s side.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± Ken asked.


    The Mimics were momentarily overwhelmed by the Hellhound, but eventually, one side would win and return their attention to the other. Alivia was lying in the midst of the fighting, unconscious and helpless, while Ben Olson was attempting to reach Mathew and Ken through the conflict.


    ¡°Get her out of here!¡± Mathew said, shoving the teen away before digging into his inventory.


    Ken nodded before running his way to Alivia, dodging and moving to avoid the Hellhound and the fighting Mimics. Sliding across the ground, he reached the Drafter and hefted her up, looking for an opening to leave.


    Mathew removed the bag that Oscar had given him. Judging the weight, he used his Catapult ability to fling items from within as far as he could deeper into the cavern. Before one was finished moving, he was already sending the next.


    ¡°Mr. Larson!¡± Ben Olson shouted, running across the space between them as fast as his body could carry him. His features were no longer human. His limbs were too long, his mouth too wide and filled with sharp teeth.


    He had nearly reached him when a bolt of lightning slammed into Olson¡¯s body, sending him crashing to the ground. Ken stood with Alivia in his arms, one of the cards from the deck in his hand.


    ¡°Hurry up!¡± Ken urged, and Mathew flung one of the last of the orbs from Oscar¡¯s bag, sending it sailing toward the center of the cavern before beginning to run away, but not before taking a final look at where he had sent the bombs and snapping his fingers.


    The fire ignited the explosives, fueled further by the conflicting energies of the various devices Oscar had created. Red flames consumed the acid mist and grew stronger as they consumed the vats and all the Aether in the room.


    The fiery explosion swept over the Greater Mimics and the Hellhound, which immediately returned to whatever plane it had come from as the destructive energies Mathew had unleashed destroyed its physical body.


    Entering the passageway, Mathew leapt onto the ground just as the explosion reached him. The heat and flames rushed over his body, and he screamed as it seared his flesh and burned away the clothing from his back. It lasted only a moment before a rumbling sound came from the cavern, and the ceiling behind them collapsed, leaving them alone in the dark.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯

 Chapter 48 – Floor 6: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 48</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 1


    The burning words of the completion summary lit the tunnel''s darkness, allowing Mathew to see the destruction the explosion had caused.


    The passageway had collapsed, and the air was filled with dust. Ken and Alivia were lying on the ground a little further in than him. The Drafter was still unconscious, but the teen was still alive and coughing from the dust.


    Sagging back to the floor in relief, Mathew read the words hovering in front of him.


    Floor 5 Complete!


    You have successfully cleansed the Pit of the Greater Mimics and their experimentation to harvest Aether.


    Completion Bonus: Any magical items placed in your inventory will now be identified for you. In the future, descriptions of an item''s abilities will now appear.


    Please proceed to Floor 6 within ten minutes. You must enter separately.


    Mathew closed the summary, swiping his hand through the words to remove it immediately. He was too tired and in pain to check anything else, and he just wanted to rest for a moment. Unfortunately, Ken was in a better state than him and quickly scampered to Mathew¡¯s side, forcing him to respond.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± The Burglar asked, trying to help Mathew get to his feet.


    With a put-upon sigh, Mathew slowly stood and regretted it immediately. Pain lanced through his back and scalp, the results of the superheated air burning atop him from the explosion.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. How¡¯s Alivia?¡± Mathew lied, gritting his teeth and against the pain.


    ¡°She¡¯s alive, but she¡¯s in rough shape. And all her cards are gone.¡± Ken replied.


    ¡°That¡¯s going to piss her off.¡± Mathew joked, understanding just how expensive it would be to replace them.


    ¡°At least she¡¯s alive.¡± Mathew finished, patting the teen on the shoulder.


    Another ¡®Ding¡¯ rang out in the passageway, and three elevators appeared, side by side. The summary clearly explained that they could not travel to the next floor together. Mathew and Ken were about to give Alivia a potion when she cracked an eyelid and groaned loudly.


    ¡°What happened? I feel like I was hit by a truck.¡± The Drafter said, her voice hoarse.


    ¡°Close to it, one of the Mimics hit you.¡± Mathew explained, and Alivia closed her eyes again.


    ¡°Did we win?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Yes, but your cards didn¡¯t make it.¡± Mathew said, and he smiled when the young woman began to let out a series of curses.


    ¡°Relax, I think we made more than enough on this floor. You can buy a new deck with the Aether you earned.¡± Mathew interrupted her tirade.


    The pair helped Alivia to her feet and guided her to the elevator doors. Saying their goodbyes and with the hope that they would meet again on another floor, Mathew entered his elevator, and the doors closed swiftly behind him.


    He felt the elevator begin to move immediately, and he settled in for the journey. Opening up his inventory, the first thing he did was look at the staff, which was the last item of Oscars that Mathew had left.


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    The wooden staff was resting in his inventory, and it reminded Mathew of a broom handle. It was about five feet long and only as thick as his thumb. The description that hovered over it read:


    Staff of Force


    Crafted by the Forger ¡®Oscar,¡¯ this amateurishly constructed magical item will explode with force on impact, shattering the item but doing significant damage to your opponent.


    ¡°Of course it explodes.¡± Mathew muttered, identifying a theme with Oscar¡¯s crafted items. Closing his inventory, Mathew switched over to his status and had his first look at the amount of Aether he had earned.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Trickster (Level 1)


    Coward (Level 5)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 11


    Aether Required For Next Level: 66,000


    Aether: 256,000


    Attributes


    Body: 2.8


    Mind: 3.2


    Spirit: 0.3


    Blessings


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Max Tier)


    Catapult (Tier 2)


    Mathew was impressed with the amount of Aether he had earned on that floor. The Pit was saturated with Aether, and it showed by how much each of the defeated mimics granted him. He had enough to upgrade Catapult to its maximum tier and purchase two levels up, which he did right away.


    After the feeling of euphoria swept over him from the level-up, he re-checked his status.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Trickster (Level 3)


    Coward (Level 5)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 13


    Aether Required For Next Level: 91,000


    Aether: 22,000


    Attributes


    Body: 3.0


    Mind: 3.6


    Spirit: 0.3


    Blessings


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Max Tier)


    Catapult (Max Tier)


    Closing the screen once more, Mathew had never felt better. The wounds all over his body had healed, and the tiredness was once again gone. After purchasing a replacement outfit that consisted of a new white long-sleeved shirt, black jacket and blue jeans, he felt like a new man.


    The last thing he decided to do was to check the ¡®Judgement¡¯ tab and review the comments and feelings of the gods regarding his performance. It was with a sense of trepidation that he opened the tab.


    Displaying the top three most relevant Divine Judgements:


    The god of Perfect Subterfuge is displeased at the actions of the Mimics. They have chosen to give you an Aether bonus on completion of the floor.


    The god of Ruinous Detonations cheered at your destruction of the Pit. They have chosen to grant you the ability to ¡®Identify¡¯ magical items in your inventory.


    The god of Crafted Possessions is pleased that you used items of its Demesne to complete the floor. They have elected not to grant you a boon.


    Closing the screen, Mathew was once again struck by the mixed bag of responses. Maybe in the future, their judgements will mean more, but for now, it is irrelevant.


    Mathew was just about to sit down and wait for the elevator to arrive at its destination when another loud ¡®Ding¡¯ rang out.


    The elevator stopped, and the doors slowly opened to a blindingly bright light.


    Mathew found himself standing on a white sand beach, the azure blue water spread out in front of him, sparkling in the sunlight. The day was warm, and the wind smelled like the ocean. He could hear seagulls in the cloudless sky above, and a few palm trees provided a small bit of shade beside him.


    He was in paradise, the type of place that people would spend a fortune to visit for their vacations. But there wasn¡¯t anyone around, not a soul on the beach or in the water in front of him. He was utterly alone, with no sign of civilization in sight.


    Mathew¡¯s silver wristband began to vibrate, announcing the summary for the current floor. Burning words appeared on the sand at his feet, informing him of the goal of this floor.


    Floor 6: A World Divided


    You have arrived in a world separated by more than just an ocean. Two continents have been at war for centuries, and the conflict has cost millions of lives.


    The Empire of the East, Talrand, and the Kingdom of the West, Ama, are divided by the Azure Sea. Recently, steps have been taken to ensure a lasting peace through the marriage of the Talrandian Prince and the Aman Princess.


    Objective: Travel to Center Island, the only landmass on the Azure Sea and ensure the marriage succeeds.


    ¡°Wonderful, who doesn¡¯t love a wedding.¡± Mathew muttered, holding up his hand to shade his eyes as he looked around for a landmark or something to indicate where he should go. In the distance, he could see a rising plume of dust and white smoke.


    With no other option, Mathew walked along the beach.

 Chapter 49 – Floor 6: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 49</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 2


    It took Mathew several hours to reach the camp. The beach bent and curved as he walked, and even though he could see the plume of smoke and dust was close by, the water of the bay separated Mathew from his destination.


    He was forced to go further inland, making his way through a jungle for nearly an hour. The wilderness slowly retreated as he neared the beach again after the long diversion.


    Mathew sighed in relief as he reached a small hill and could finally see people gathered around white-walled tents in front of a long dock with a massive wooden ship moored at it.


    There were thousands of people and hundreds of tents. Flags and pennants flapped in the wind, all bearing the same symbol of a blue dragon on a field of white. Everyone was dressed in garb that could have been taken from a Renaissance fair.


    Simple clothed peasants and servants scrambled around, carrying boxes and crates to the ship or other items between the tents. Guards wearing metal breastplates and wide-sleeved silk shirts ringed the camp, each wielding a long polearm, spear, sword, and shield.


    Mathew could see richly dressed men and women sitting in a large pavilion at the center of the camp with tables filled with food and wine. More guards protected them, and hundreds of servants catered to their every need.


    Mixed between the elegantly clothed people were strange individuals wearing long robes in bright red, black or white. They held long staffs in their hands or thick books under their arms and were festooned with jewelry or other items.


    Mathew¡¯s appearance at the top of the hill sent the camp into a frenzy. Dozens of armed guards ran toward him while several robed figures followed slowly behind them. He could feel the mana billowing off of these people, letting him know that they were capable of using magic or Blessings like himself.


    ¡°Halt!¡± The lead guard shouted, dropping the point of his spear toward Mathew as dozens of his fellows followed suit. Now that they were closer, Mathew could see they all had the same dragon symbol on their uniforms.


    Raising his hands in a non-threatening manner, Mathew avoided any sudden movements. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ didn¡¯t activate, letting him know they weren¡¯t more powerful than himself, but it didn¡¯t mean they weren¡¯t dangerous. He was outnumbered, and their weapons looked sharp enough to poke a few holes in his skin.


    ¡°I¡¯m Mathew. I¡¯ve been sent as a Champion from the gods to ensure the marriage between Talrand and Ama proceeds as planned.¡± Mathew explained, focusing on the lead guard as he spoke. He hoped they knew something about the gods and champions or things were about to get troublesome.


    The guards paused for a moment, a hopeful sign to Mathew before their leader raised his spear and looked at one of the robed people behind them. An old man with a long, white beard and red robe stepped forward and nodded.


    ¡°We have heard that a Champion¡¯s arrival was imminent. We have prayed to the goddess of Serene Reconciliation for their divine assistance. I am a Magus of Talrand¡¯s Spire, Bargoth.¡± The older man tilted his head forward in a minuscule bow.


    ¡°Before we allow you into our camp, you will need to swear an oath on the goddess that you will do no harm to our prince, nor will you take any action that may jeopardize the peace we seek.¡± The old man said, his blue eyes locked on Mathew¡¯s face.


    ¡°I swear.¡± Mathew said, holding his hand up like he had seen done in court in his past as a lawyer. A strange sensation swept over him. It was like a tightening, a binding that connected him to something else, something greater than himself. It was uncomfortable, and it took a while before the feeling faded.


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    Was this what an oath on the gods felt like while he was in the Tower?


    ¡°Like I told you, the gods have sent me to help. That includes your goddess as well.¡± Mathew said, trying to dismiss his sense of unease at being bound to an oath.


    ¡°We welcome your assistance, Champion.¡± Bargoth said doubtfully, his face forming a frown as his eyes flicked quickly over Mathew¡¯s outfit. Compared to the nobles'' silk robes and fine clothing, Mathew was underdressed in a black jacket and white t-shirt.


    ¡°Please, follow me. We have been awaiting your arrival for a number of days.¡± The red-robed Magus said, gesturing slightly with his hand. The guards parted slowly, still wary of the stranger. Mathew gave them a quick glance, aware of how close they, and more importantly, their weapons were to him.


    Joining Bargoth, the others fell into step behind them as they walked toward the center of the camp. They attracted stares, but no one else approached them. Mathew assumed they all thought the Magus had it handled.


    He could feel the mana exuding off the man, and Mathew estimated Bargoth was a few levels below him if he was comparing them correctly. He didn¡¯t know if they had a system of levels here or something stranger. It was the first time he had met humans with mana that weren¡¯t players, and he was curious about them.


    ¡°Have you met a Champion of the gods before?¡± Mathew asked, and the Magus nodded.


    ¡°Once, several years ago. She was a strange character, wearing outlandish clothing. I found her to be disrespectful, but her power was undeniable. She defeated a demon and returned to wherever she had been summoned from.¡± Bargoth responded.


    They had moved deeper into the camp, and Mathew saw more of the servants carrying out tasks and a few people training with swords and spears. Slowing down slightly, Mathew watched them as they trained.


    They were fast and strong, nearly supernaturally so, and Mathew estimated they would be Olympic-level athletes if you had sent them to Earth. Each had mana within their bodies; he could sense it flowing around them as they moved.


    One young man, stripped to his waist and wielding an actual sword rather than a wooden training blade, held it horizontally to his side as he stared at a training dummy. The blade ¡®pulsed¡¯ with mana, like a heartbeat, and the young man breathed deeply as he focused.


    In a split second, the young man moved forward and sliced the dummy in half, sheathing his blade before the top of the straw man hit the ground.


    ¡°Impressive.¡± Mathew said, in equal parts for the technique and the magical blade.


    Bargoth nodded, having slowed down to match Mathew.


    ¡°Marath is showing a lot of promise. He will have a bright future if he continues to train diligently. Hard work leads to glory.¡±


    ¡°Indeed it does.¡± Mathew agreed.


    ¡°Would you like to spar with him? I¡¯m sure Marath would be delighted to learn from a Champion.¡± Bargoth offered, and Mathew couldn¡¯t tell if he was being insulted or not.


    ¡°Me? No, I¡¯ve never held anything more than a knife.¡± Mathew confessed.


    ¡°Ah, you study magic then? A kindred spirit! I¡¯ve studied the Arcane Arts for my entire life.¡± Bargoth boasted, causing Mathew to shake his head.


    ¡°No, I know a few spells from my Blessings, but I¡¯ve never studied magic. I didn¡¯t even know it was possible to learn it by studying. I thought it only came from the Tower.¡± Mathew admitted, causing Bargoth to scoff.


    ¡°Absurd! The gods may provide Blessings, but true magic comes from diligent study and generations of accumulated knowledge. The Spire of Talrand has spent millennia collecting our scriptures for the benefit of humanity.¡± Bargoth explained.


    ¡°I would love to see a demonstration.¡± Mathew requested, and Bargoth thought for a moment before nodding. He gestured for Mathew to follow, and they took a branching path from the one they had been following toward the Prince¡¯s Pavilion.


    They arrived at another large tent, this one bearing an additional symbol to match the blue dragon of Talrand. It was a prominent, black spire on a field of yellow. There were rows of younger men and women, all wearing robes or rich clothing.


    Several were studying in large books while writing notes, while others were carving symbols into slates or other objects. They all looked up from their work as the pair entered.


    A young woman in a bright red robe stood up quickly, bowing her head to Bargoth. Mathew guessed she was in her late teens or early twenties. She was beautiful but had a frosty demeanour.


    ¡°Master.¡± Bargoth smiled warmly, pride evident in his expression as he nodded in greeting.


    ¡°Amberlith, my apprentice. This is the Champion of the gods, Mathew. He has requested a demonstration of our magic.¡± Bargoth explained, and his apprentice nodded. Picking up her book from the table, she walked to the side where her staff was leaning and picked it up.


    Waiting patiently, Mathew looked forward to the demonstration.

 Chapter 50 – Floor 6: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 50</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 3


    Amberlith raised the hefty tome of magic and flipped the pages until she came to the correct page. Clearing her throat, she quickly glanced at Bargoth and Mathew to ensure they were watching before starting.


    She pointed her staff at the clear space in front of her and began to recite her spell.


    Amberlith¡¯s voice rang out distinct and loud throughout the tent. Mathew could tell she was speaking the correct words because Bargoth periodically nodded as he watched, the pride evident on his face.


    To Mathew, the words were gibberish, and he doubted he could have done as well as the young woman. He would have been stumbling through, undoubtedly jumbling the words together until they were indecipherable.


    Amberlith¡¯s mana rose in waves, undulating strongly before fading away. Each time she repeated a sentence from the book, it grew stronger, and her voice rose in volume to match its intensity.


    This continued for nearly a minute, then two more, until Mathew wasn¡¯t sure when it would end. Finally, after almost five minutes of chanting and gesturing with her staff, the young woman shouted the last word of the spell.


    A loud crack rang out through the tent, and Mathew was startled by the sudden sound. Expecting a grand show from the long spell and amount of mana being channelled, he was slightly disappointed when nothing happened.


    Bargoth, on the other hand, clapped loudly as she finished, his face split into a smile.


    ¡°Well done, Amberlith! Marvelous recitation. A flawless example of the ¡®Unseen Servant¡¯ spell.¡± Bargoth said, coming forward and patting his apprentice on the shoulder in a fatherly manner. Mathew stared at them both in confusion.


    ¡°I apologize, but I¡¯m unfamiliar with that spell. What does it do?¡± Mathew asked, and Bargoth looked at him with pity. Amberlith gestured with her hand, and a kind of ¡®force¡¯ sped past his face. Reaching the table, it picked up a goblet and carried it to its master.


    It was a formless mass of mana, a shapeless and invisible thing capable of moving objects and doing the bidding of its master. It was also utterly useless in combat. Mathew tried to keep a look of interest on his face as the pair explained why he should be impressed with her casting.


    ¡°The Unseen Servant spell is frightfully useful and requires a bright intellect and force of will to assemble. Amberlith is one of the few apprentices capable of summoning it. She will make a magnificent Magus someday.¡± Bargoth bragged.


    ¡°Congratulations. It¡¯s certainly more than what I am capable of doing.¡± Mathew said truthfully. He couldn¡¯t summon a creature to do his bidding. His offered blessings all leaned toward combat or had more utilitarian value.


    ¡°Perhaps you could give us a demonstration of your magic, Champion. We would all be honoured to witness it.¡± Amberlith said, and Mathew was sure her tone was insincere. She hoped to show him up, especially since he had admitted to lacking magical knowledge.


    The gathered mages, young men and women who were studying as apprentices, had all gathered around to watch Amberlith when Mathew and Borgoth entered. Of course, they were interested in a Champion''s magic. It was natural to want to compare their spell techniques with a mythical Champion of the gods.


    There were even a half dozen older men and women who had come to train their students who were standing near the tent walls, whispering to each other and staring at Mathew.


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    ¡°Sure, why not? I only have two Blessings that I can show off.¡± Mathew confessed, and Bargoth nodded slowly at his words.


    ¡°If you please.¡± He said.


    Mathew concentrated for a moment and snapped his fingers. One of the candles on the table that was unlit flickered to life. The apprentices murmured at the display. The fact that he hadn¡¯t used an incantation, staff or any components was impressive to them, even though the spell was lacking.


    ¡°Very¡­enlightening. It would be instrumental when flint and steel is unavailable at night.¡± Amberlith said, and Mathew was sure of the mocking in her voice this time.


    ¡°It has its uses.¡± Mathew said, shrugging his shoulders. He suddenly felt an urge to play a prank. The Trickster discipline was influencing his behaviour, and rather than fight it, Mathew gave in.


    ¡°At least I have full control of my abilities. It seems that ¡®Unseen Servant¡¯ is a bit wild.¡± Mathew said, subtly flicking his finger. The cup that the magical servant had brought and returned to the table suddenly shot away at tremendous force.


    Slamming into the side of the tent, the metal cup kept going, tearing a hole in the cloth and shooting out of sight.


    The apprentices erupted into frightened screams at Mathew¡¯s trick, and Bargoth turned to Amberlith in red-faced anger and embarrassment.


    ¡°You should have more control over your servant than that, Apprentice. You will work on the basics until I call for you.¡± Bargoth said. Turning to Mathew, he bowed his head slightly in apology.


    ¡°I am ashamed at the display of my Apprentice, Champion. Please, let us go and pay your respects to the Prince.¡± The Magus said, leading the way out of the tent. Mathew had a last look at the confused face of Amberlith before he went back outside in the sunlight.


    The Prince was located in the large, white-roofed pavilion in the center of the camp. Passing by heavily armed guards and more mages, Mathew and Bargoth arrived before the groom, whose shoulders would bear the weight of peace of an entire world.


    Mathew immediately hated him.


    The Prince was leaning back in an oversized chair, his legs thrown over the wood armrests of the cushioned seat while he held a goblet of wine in one hand and was pointing at another noble guest and yelling at the top of his lungs.


    In his early twenties, the Prince was handsome, with pale skin untouched by the sun and blond hair. He was wearing expensive clothing, in blue with gold thread. His voice was slightly slurred, indicating to Mathew that he had been spending his day drinking.


    The Pavilion was in the midst of a party, with musicians playing and the gathered nobles wearing their finest clothing while their servants delivered alcohol and food. When Mathew and Bargoth entered, the Prince was raising his voice out of the din of the tent to speak to another Noble.


    ¡°The man is an ass! An ass! I ordered him to compose a sonnet about my horse, and he began to sing about ¡®haunches¡¯ and ¡®his hooves would glide across the glen.¡¯ Well, his song was ¡®horseshit,¡¯ he deserves to be flogged, but father forbade it. Forbade it!¡± The Prince tried to get out of his seat to continue shouting and accentuate his point but fell back against the cushion.


    Clearing his throat loudly, Bargoth gestured to the musicians to stop playing before bowing low before the Prince.


    ¡°My Prince, may I present Mathew, Champion of the goddess.¡± Bargoth said, eyeing Mathew and giving him a subtle gesture to bow as well, which Mathew promptly ignored.


    The Prince turned a bleary-eyed look to the pair, trying to comprehend what he had said for a moment before responding.


    ¡°Champion? Were we expecting a Champion? Astley! Were we expecting a Champion?¡± The Prince shouted, clicking his fingers together to draw the attention of another man. This one was wearing a uniform similar to the servants but of much better quality. Middle-aged and bearded, Mathew took him for a higher-positioned servant.


    ¡°Yes, Milord. That is why we have spent the last week here. It was divined that a Champion would accompany us to Center Island.¡± Astley said, standing next to the Prince¡¯s chair and looking at Mathew curiously.


    ¡°Well, excellent! Let us set sail then! My bride awaits. I was told that she is the most attractive creature of Ama, and well, she should be since she has the pleasure of marrying me. It''s better than an Esper deserves if I¡¯m honest. Horrid beings, little better than demons if you ask me. But I must sacrifice for the good of the Empire.¡± The Prince bemoaned, and Mathew¡¯s opinion of him sank further with each word.


    ¡°Esper?¡± Mathew asked, turning to Bargoth for an explanation. The Magus looked uncomfortable at the question but whispered an answer.


    ¡°Psions. The Ama are mutants who can read minds and move objects with a thought. The Prince is correct. They are no better than the demons your predecessor eliminated. Would that the goddess had sent us a Champion to cleanse the Ama from this world rather than see this abomination of a wedding proceed.¡± Bargoth explained.


    Tuning him out as the Magus continued to rant, Mathew let out a sigh. He hoped the Ama turned out to be better than the Talrandians.

 Chapter 51 – Floor 6: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 51</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 4


    Mathew leaned over the ship''s railing and let the ocean breeze wash away some of the irritation he felt over some crewmates on board.


    The Prince of Talrand was an insufferable drunk and blowhard whom Mathew wanted to toss overboard with every passing minute. Borgoth and his fellow Mages were opinionated and prejudiced against everyone who wasn¡¯t a Mage of their Spire or from Talrand to the point where Mathew tried to avoid them as much as possible.


    Lucky for him, the ship was monstrously large. Whoever had built it was skilled, but it was nothing like the old, wet, and rotting wooden ships of Mathew¡¯s studied history. No, these were built with magic, meaning their hulls were sound, the interior well-lit, warm, dry, and incredibly spacious.


    Mathew wasn¡¯t sure what spell they used to increase the deck''s size and the ship''s interior, but he felt like he was on a cruise ship from his Earth. If he didn¡¯t want to interact with anyone, there were plenty of out-of-the-way areas where he could catch a moment¡¯s peace.


    He scratched at the stiff, inflexible collar of his new clothing with irritation. Apparently, his outfit offended the Talrandian nobility''s senses, requiring Bargoth to supply him with a set of robes befitting his station as a Champion.


    Made of a navy blue material and engraved with the symbol of their goddess, Serene Reconciliation, it featured a pair of hands grasping each other in friendship in gold thread. With a high collar and strange, flaring and stiff shoulder pads, Mathew felt like some kind of evil vizier out of a movie.


    He would have turned it down if it hadn¡¯t been for the notification from his silver wristband when he had been presented with the clothing.


    Garments of the Champion of the goddess Serene Reconciliation. Wearing them will enable a boon of additional Aether upon completion of the Floor.


    The thought of more Aether had been enticing then, but now that he was wearing it, Mathew didn¡¯t know if the additional rewards were worth it, especially when it was so itchy!


    Frustrated, Mathew banged his head against the wooden rail of the ship. He would rather be back in the Pit or fighting Goblins in Averatha than on this ship and being forced to listen to one more¡­.


    ¡°There you are, Champion. I have been tasked with bringing you to a recital. The Prince is most keen to hear your thoughts on poetry.¡± Amberlith stated, coming up to him with a smirk on her face.


    Barogth¡¯s apprentice was aware of how much he disliked the Prince, but she took great pleasure in forcing him to attend annoying parties or events like poetry readings and the performance from the Prince''s many entertainers.


    ¡°I¡¯ll save you the trouble. I know nothing about poetry aside from the fact that words need to rhyme.¡± Mathew muttered, not raising his head from where it rested on the wooden railing. It was pleasant to feel the ocean wind, and he found the ship''s movement on the waves soothing.


    ¡°But you¡¯re a Champion! Surely, you are above all other men in all things. Poetry, combat, magic, nothing is beyond your divine skills.¡± Amerlith replied, and her tone dripped with sarcasm.


    ¡°Listen, you can cut the shit. You and I both know that no part of me is ¡®divine.¡¯ My job is to make sure that pompous ass in his royal cabin marries whoever it is that¡¯s waiting for us on Center Island.¡± Mathew said, standing upright and staring at the apprentice.


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    ¡°Your job is to be what the Prince demands you to be, Champion.¡± Amberlith stated coldly, and Mathew snorted with laughter at the comment.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know your Prince was the goddess of Serene Reconciliation. I thought she would be prettier.¡± Mathew retorted, and the Apprentice finally lost her composure. Her face flushed red, and Mathew knew she was about to begin shouting, so he cut her off.


    ¡°Look, I get it. You don¡¯t like me because you think I¡¯m nothing special. That all I did was receive these Blessings from the gods, that I didn¡¯t ¡®earn¡¯ my power while you were stuck studying in the Spire, buried deeply in books and having to serve as an Apprentice to an old man like Bargoth.¡± Mathew explained, and Amberlith shut her open mouth with a ¡®click.¡¯


    The Apprentice nodded at his words.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know anything about me.¡± Mathew continued.


    ¡°I¡¯ve spent the last six months travelling between one horrible world to the next, each one worse than the last. I¡¯ve had every manner of monster and creature trying to kill me, I¡¯ve seen people I¡¯ve cared about die, and I¡¯ve fought tooth and nail for my Blessings.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t ¡®chosen¡¯ by the gods. I¡¯ve been forced to do their bidding in exchange for the opportunity to get stronger. To find someone I care about and help her achieve her wish.¡±


    ¡°So, no, I won¡¯t be attending the Prince¡¯s poetry recital. My job is to make sure he gets married, and that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do. Even if I have to cut my way through everyone on this ship, tuck the little Princeling in a sack and swim to Center Island with him on my back.¡± Mathew growled.


    Turning away from the stunned Amberlith, Mathew returned to leaning on the railing and staring out over the Azure Sea. There was a flock of seagulls in the distance, little specks of white against the blue that were moving in the same direction as the ship.


    ¡°You can leave now.¡± Mathew said, shooing her away with his hand. Amberlith hesitated, not moving as she stared at him for a moment before speaking.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, and I¡¯m sorry. There wasn¡¯t any poetry reading, or maybe there is, but I haven¡¯t heard anything about it. I just wanted to make things difficult for you.¡± She said, taking a deep breath.


    ¡°I¡¯ve spent my entire life in the Spire. I am studying, preparing for this moment to finally go out into the world and prove to everyone that I deserve to be here. And I was jealous that you just showed up, a Champion, and everyone has to show you the respect that is normally reserved for a Magus. I didn¡¯t know that you had to do anything to earn it.¡± Amberlith confessed.


    Mathew shrugged at the words.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± He paused, thinking, before asking. ¡°Do you know anything about the Tower of Avarice?¡±


    Amberlith joined him on the railing, leaning over and staring out over the water.


    ¡°Just what has been written in the records from the words of arriving Champions. A grand Tower that stretched into the sky, where they are gifted the opportunity to achieve their dreams.¡± Amberlith stated, a bit of awe, wonder and even more jealousy in her tone.


    ¡°One hundred floors. Once we go in, we can¡¯t go home until we reach the top. Or we die.¡± Mathew stated indifferently.


    ¡°Floors¡­¡± Amberlith said. ¡°Which floor are you on now?¡±


    ¡°Six.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been in the Tower for half a year, and you¡¯ve only reached the sixth floor? You¡¯ll be an old man by the time you reach the top.¡± The Apprentice said in wonder, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°Apparently, we don¡¯t age inside the tower. We can even get younger as we progress. Time is pretty meaningless, I guess. Otherwise, I would be more upset about the length of this trip.¡± Mathew replied.


    It would take them nearly three months to sail to the Center Island and then an unknown amount of time once they landed for the marriage ceremony to begin.


    After his trip to the fourth and fifth Floors, Mathew knew that time was trivial inside the Tower. For all he knew, not even a second had passed on the outside since he entered. Or maybe it has been centuries. As Einstein said, time was relative.


    Greg had told him that he had been with a caravan for nearly a year while Mathew had spent a month on the second floor, but Greg had gotten to the Third Floor before him.


    He wasn¡¯t about to drive himself crazy trying to figure things out. As long as he could reach Emily and help her, that was all he cared about.


    And surviving. It would was nice being alive, after all.


    Mathew and Amberlith spent another few hours discussing their respective lives, her time in the Spire and his on Earth. The Spire was similar to a Wizard¡¯s Tower from fairy tales. Only there were thousands of mages where Amberlith studied.


    He also learned more about their magic, and how they also had something similar to levels, But theirs could be obtained with study and time, while his magic could only be purchased with Aether.


    Overall, it was a pleasant conversation and for the first time, Mathew didn¡¯t feel like the trip would be quite that bad.


    He should have known it wouldn¡¯t last.

 Chapter 52 – Floor 6: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 52</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 5


    As Mathew¡¯s annoyance with the passengers on the ship grew, so did the desire within him to play tricks on them. He could do nothing else to relieve the frustration, irritation, and growing boredom but design and implement elaborate pranks that would both satisfy his Discipline and practice his skills.


    He started small. Using his control of flames, he would snuff out the candles of a room while people were in it at night, causing them to fumble in the dark. Or he would smother a hearth to the point where even the Mages on board couldn¡¯t reignite it.


    But it was on the Prince that Mathew played most of his pranks.


    Nearly every time the Prince set his ever-present goblet of wine or spirits down, Mathew would knock it over as soon as the man¡¯s fingertips were no longer making contact. Blaming the motion of the ship, the Prince would leap to his feet, cursing on the Azure Sea, and his servants would be forced to fetch his new clothing, only for Mathew to repeat the process an hour later.


    Mathew would jerk the musicians'' instruments from their cases, breaking strings to prevent them from playing. All minor irritants, but it was enough to keep Mathew entertained and sour the mood of the Prince¡¯s parties.


    He was getting better at controlling ¡®Catapult.¡¯ His growing experience opened up new ways to use the Blessing, and soon, no one could be in his presence without some of their belongings inexplicably moving as soon as their backs were turned.


    For whatever reason, no one ever connected him to the Tricks. Whether they assumed a Champion would never stoop so low as to use a Blessing to irritate people, or they were biased in thinking that Mathew was incapable of magic at this level, he was never sure.


    One rainy afternoon, when the sea was particularly rough and everyone was forced to stay below deck for their safety, Mathew lost his patience at yet another diatribe from the Prince and his retinue. This one involved cursing on the servants and the ship¡¯s crew, blaming the latter for the storm and the former for the lack of service.


    Having enough of the commotion, Mathew used Catapult to hurl a pillow from across the room directly into the Prince¡¯s face. It was sheer coincidence that one of the Prince¡¯s relatives, whom the man despised, had been sitting nearby.


    The Prince roared in anger and began to hurl abuse at his relative, who immediately shot to his feet and responded. In minutes, the entire deck was fighting, with the Prince and his cousin rolling around on the ground, sharing blows while their respective retinues battled with fists, plates of food and goblets full of drink.


    Chuckling to himself, Mathew used the distraction to slip from the cabin and returned to his small room, where he spent the rest of the evening reading one of the books about magic that Amberlith had lent him from her personal collection.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°The ship isn¡¯t haunted.¡± Mathew stated before licking his finger to turn the page of the book he was reading.


    He was on the deck, enjoying the first sunny day they had experienced in a week. The Azure Sea was calm this afternoon, and the heat was contrasted nicely with the cooling breeze off the water. Blessedly, he had been left alone for most of the morning because the Prince was nursing a hangover from the night before.


    The commotion he had caused led to a few days of tension between the various groups of Nobility, which was only broken when the Prince personally forgave all those who trespassed against him in what the Prince considered to be a magnanimous gesture.


    That statement had led to another brawl, although Mathew suspected it was more of an excuse to break the monotony of the voyage than any real anger. What proceeded was a solid two days of debauchery and alcohol that had Mathew staying clear of that entire section of the ship.


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    Which is how Amberlith found him that day, tucked into a small, out of the way part of the upper deck that was shielded from sight by stacked crates and bundles of rope.


    ¡°Then how do you explain all these strange occurrences that keep happening? The Prince has practically glued his goblet to his hand for fear of setting it down and spilling his drink. Bargoth¡¯s staff shot across the room last week and knocked him in the head, and the Captain misplaced his priceless spyglass.¡± Amberlite queried him as she leaned her back against the railing.


    Mathew was confused by the last part. To his knowledge, he hadn¡¯t had anything to do with the Captain or his Spyglass. Shrugging the thought aside, Mathew looked at the young woman standing in front of him.


    ¡°Maybe it''s Karma? Do you have the concept of ¡®Karma¡¯ in this world?¡± Mathew asked, and Amberlith shook her head in the negative.


    ¡°Karma is the belief that all actions have consequences, good things come to good people, while people who act poorly get what¡¯s coming to them. A simpler analogy would be ¡®You Reap What You Sow.¡¯¡± Mathew explained, causing Amberlith to smile and giggle.


    He had to admit that she was stunningly beautiful when she did so. The ice thawed and revealed the loveliness beneath. Although he still found her to be insufferable at times, they had become friends.


    ¡°What a ridiculous concept. I agree that actions do have consequences, but the thought that there is a guiding force punishing those who behave poorly while looking out for the worthy is blasphemous against the gods. Only they may judge a person¡¯s actions.¡± Amberlith said, her tone scandalous at the thought that the god¡¯s Champion would broach such a subject.


    ¡°Yet you believe in vengeful ghosts?¡± Mathew mocked, and Amberlith blushed.


    ¡°Ghosts are real, Mathew. You have told me of your adventures in the world inhabited by the undead. I don¡¯t see why you are so dismissive of their presence on board.¡±


    ¡°Ghosts may be real, but I doubt they would come onto this ship just to move the Prince¡¯s mug or knock some sense into Bargoth. The more logical answer is that someone on board is messing around with people, probably in an attempt to alleviate his boredom and vent some of his frustrations.¡± Mathew commented, watching Amberlith out of the corner of his eye to see if she was catching on to what he was revealing.


    Seeing that she didn¡¯t quite catch on, he continued.


    ¡°Probably a handsome, charming and incomparably intelligent individual if I were to judge them.¡± Mathew finished, and Amberlith drew in a sharp intake of breath.


    ¡°It¡¯s been you all along!¡± She shouted, her face turning red with a mix of humiliation and anger at him keeping it a secret from her. She kicked him in the shin with her boot, and Mathew winced as he broke out into loud guffaws of laughter.


    ¡°I should have known! Really, Mathew? You¡¯ve had everyone on board frightened out of their minds and at each other¡¯s throats.¡± Amberlith scolded him, and it only sent Mathew deeper into laughter.


    ¡°They deserved it. Honestly, Amberlith, most of the people onboard this ship are horrible! Present company excluded, of course. So what if the Prince spilled a little wine, and Bargoth got a lump on the head. It was only a few pranks to pass the time. Besides, My Discipline was demanding it of me.¡± Mathew said, turning earnest at the end.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Amberlith asked, and Mathew explained briefly about his Discipline and how it affects his actions. Charlatan, Coward, and now Trickster all had different effects on him, and it was becoming harder to control them as he gained levels.


    At first, he could easily stop its influence, but as he got stronger, so did the impulses. It was becoming a problem, and he was worried about what might happen in the future. It made the selection of a Discipline all the more important, as much as the Stat increases or the offered Blessing.


    ¡°Why do you think it does that?¡± Amberlith asked, frowning as he finished his explanation.


    ¡°I have no idea. Maybe it''s like fulfilling a role, or it could possibly be tied to the personality of the god that offered me the Discipline in the first place. Whatever the reason, it''s just something else to be concerned about if you end up coming with me.¡± Mathew said, placing down his book and making the page with a scrap of paper instead of folding the corner like he would have done with his own books.


    ¡°Do you really think I can? We haven¡¯t been offered the opportunity to enter the Tower. I would be the first person from our world to do so.¡± Amberlith said with wonder. She had revealed her dream to Mathew several days ago and a request for him to take her with him into the Tower.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, but when the time comes, you can tag along. The worst that could happen is you can¡¯t enter, or you¡¯re sent to the start of the Tower. Although, that would probably be for the best. You don¡¯t want to start on the same floor as me without a Discipline or Blessing.¡±


    They spent the remainder of the day talking, only to be interrupted when the sun went down by a messenger from the Prince. In light of the recent ¡®Haunting,¡¯ a priest of the goddess would be holding a cleansing ritual to dispel the spirit.


    Stifling a laugh and wincing when Amberlith pinched his side, Mathew agreed to attend.

 Chapter 53 – Floor 6: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 53</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 6


    After three months at sea, no matter how luxurious and well-provisioned the ship was, Mathew cheered along with the rest of the crew when land was finally sighted.


    Center Island was a large, circular landmass dominated by a large volcanic mountain. The dark blue waters of the Azure Sea lightened as the ship approached, turning a bright turquoise. A reef surrounded the island, forcing all ships making the crossing to enter at a single chokepoint where the island''s only settlement was located.


    Birds flew overhead, filling the air with the sound of their cries. Mathew could see fish and other sea creatures in the water below him as they moved parallel to the reef.


    Center Island was neutral ground between the Empire and the Kingdom of Ama, a concession from both parties centuries ago to end another war in their past.


    As part of the settlement agreement, only a few dozen people from both continents would be allowed to inhabit the island, making it a key stopping point for the vessel''s six-month-long voyage. There were a few buildings and a long dock that already had another ship with large, blue sails and an eye symbol stitched onto it.


    Mathew had learned that trade between the continents had been forbidden, meaning few travellers ventured across the sea to visit the other side. Most who came out this far did so in search of rare items such as deep sea pearls and to hunt the creatures unique to the Azure ocean.


    It had made Mathew curious about how a war could start between the two continents when such a vast sea separated them, and contact was severely limited. Apparently, it had not always been so. The journey used to be much shorter before the conflict between the two continents caused some sort of catastrophe.


    Even Bargoth didn¡¯t know the specifics; it had happened over a thousand years ago, but ancient records indicated that ships had previously made the voyage in under a month and that the sea lanes between them were well-travelled.


    Regardless of the reason why things had changed, Mathew was finally at Center Island, where he would be responsible for ensuring the wedding took place and a lasting peace ensued. He didn¡¯t care about the second part. The peace could fall apart as soon as he left this floor for all he cared. It was the marriage itself that was his objective.


    He was also curious about these Psion Amadans. It seemed to be a common ability amongst their people, with even the common folk having some limited psychic abilities while their elite could do things equal to the mages of Talrand.


    Mathew had been assured that the Amadans looked human; he had almost been picturing them with a third eye or massive, throbbing heads, but Amberlith had scoffed at the notion. They were simply humans with an ability unique to their continent.


    The ship finally docked, and the crew tossed over heavy and thick lengths of rope to secure it to the platform before extending a long walkway. Naturally, the Prince and his retinue were the first to depart the vessel, with Mathew and Amberlith in their midst.


    After three months on a ship''s rocking deck, the land''s sudden firmness took a moment to get used to.


    The Prince was leading the way down the dock, speaking with a well-dressed man whom Mathew took for the Empire¡¯s representative on the island. He could overhear a few of the things they were talking about, mostly how rude the Amadans were and the locals'' various complaints about them.


    The Amadans had only arrived the day before, their ship docking and meeting with their half of the island¡¯s agents. The small settlement was divided into two, while the dock was shared. The Amadans had a large, wooden and stone building to Mathew¡¯s left, while the Talrandians occupied the right.


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    The architecture of the two continents was as different as their people. The Talrandians favoured simple structures of wood and stone, square and utilitarian. The blue dragon flag was set on a pole at the top, and it flapped in the wind. Squat and narrow windows made the building look like a fortress, and it even had a small Spire only three stories tall behind it for the few local mages to use.


    The Amadan had a graceful and elegant structure made of stone that Mathew could only assume was moulded in some way to form the building. It reminded him of a tulip bulb, round and wide on the bottom before narrowing at the top. Large windows allowed a lot of natural light to enter, and the locals cultivated flower beds and gardens around the front and sides.


    The center of the town, a form of ¡®No Man¡¯s Land,¡¯ started as a sandy beach before rising into a green lawn with large palm trees providing shade. Crates and boxes were stacked along with a  few carts and a wooden crane at the end of the dock that could be moved on large wheels as needed.


    Coming to the end of the dock, Mathew ignored the gathered Talrandians to observe a couple of the Amadans standing near their ¡®Embassy.¡¯ Consisting of a man and women, their outfits set them apart from the Talrandians, as did their physical appearance.


    To Mathew, despite their magic and the advantages it gave them, the Talrandians were clearly stuck in the medieval stage of their development. The clothes they wore, how their society functioned, and their equipment were all things that would have been seen on earth five hundred years before Mathew¡¯s time.


    If the Talrandians were from medieval Earth, then the Amadans looked like they came from the ancient Roman Empire.


    The man and woman wore togas, a single piece of cloth wrapped around their bodies in a single, continuous piece. The man was wearing white, while the woman beside him was decked out in dark purple. Both had gold jewelry, bracelets and necklaces.


    Rather than the bulbous heads or third eye, the pair seemed rather plain to Mathew. The man was short, unremarkable in features, with tanned skin and short black hair. His partner was similar, not reaching Mathew¡¯s chest in height, although her dark hair was done up in a rather elaborate bun with more gold chains interwoven throughout it.


    They were silent, not speaking to each other as they watched the Talrandian procession march toward their own building.


    Impatient to meet someone else besides the people he had shared a ship with for three months, Mathew ignored everyone around him as he walked toward the empty space toward the Amadans.


    Noticing his approach immediately, the pair turned their gaze towards him, and Mathew felt the strangest sensation.


    It was as if he were walking through a large spider''s web, and the strands were breaking around him. At the same time, his movements were slightly restricted, and he needed to ¡®push¡¯ to get through it. His feet felt heavier, his eyes were unfocused and time slowed around him.


    Mathew could feel a pressure behind his eyes, and his head began to ache. Blinking, he shook it off and as quickly as it appeared, it was gone once more.


    Nothing impeded his progress, and if the pair in front of him hadn¡¯t turned to look at each other in a mixture of shock and confusion, Mathew could have assumed he had been imagining it.


    ¡°Good day. My name is Mathew, and I¡¯ve been brought here by the gods to ensure this wedding is a success.¡± Mathew stated, flashing them a smile that he hoped they took to be friendly.


    Turning away from each other, the pair stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment in silence. Shaking her head angrily, the woman was the first to speak.


    ¡°Your mind is closed to me.¡± She stated, and her companion nodded.


    ¡°To me as well. Such a thing should not be possible without training.¡± The man added with a raspy voice. Their pronunciation of words was odd, and they placed inflection on the wrong parts of the sentence. To Mathew, it almost seemed that they were speaking the words without knowing their meanings.


    ¡°Is that what that weird sensation was just a second ago? You were trying to read my mind?¡± Mathew asked, and the woman nodded.


    ¡°Yes, and more. You should not have been able to approach us, not without our permission. We have not encountered such a thing before.¡± She confessed.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t been visited by a Champion before?¡± Mathew asked, and this time, it was the man who responded.


    ¡°Not in several centuries. Amadans handle their own affairs.¡± The man said simply.


    ¡°Well, hopefully, you can handle the Talrandians as well. I would like to meet with your Princess, if possible. I want to make it clear that this wedding will be happening, rain or shine.¡± Mathew said, and the pair stared at each other, communicating silently before agreeing.


    ¡°Of course, this way, please.¡±

 Chapter 54 – Floor 6: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 54</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 7


    Princess Rehn sat alone in the garden at the rear of the Amadan ¡®Embassy¡¯ building on Center Island. She found it easier to relax when the minds of others were not near her, their intrusive thoughts not pushing against her mental barriers.


    As a Psion, it took years of training to control their powers enough to be capable of interacting with those outside of one''s own family. Particularly powerful individuals amongst her people may need to be isolated for decades, which had been the case for her.


    At twenty-five years old, Rehn had only been allowed outside a secluded wing of the Royal Palace for a couple of years. Before that, she would only have contact with a few select servants, her family and special tutors who were teaching her to control her powers.


    Everyone who interacted with her when she was growing up had to have impenetrable mental barriers or risk harm from her. It had been difficult, but she finally was deemed ¡®safe¡¯ to be around others. She still preferred solitude when she was able to find it.


    Closing the book she had been reading and setting it on her lap, she watched the white sea birds wheeling overhead. They were crying out to each other, filling the garden with their song. The flowers the locals cultivated overpowered the smell of the ocean, something Rehn appreciated after three months at sea.


    After a moment, a foreign presence intruded on the barriers she had erected around her mind. It was a mere brush, a gentle probing of her defences as a way to alert her of its approach. Another soon joined it, but the pair didn¡¯t push further. Instead, they waited for her to mentally respond.


    ¡®What is it?¡¯ Rehn thought, the silent words broadcasted to the pair of locals responsible for overseeing the Amadan Embassy on Center Island.


    ¡®A Champion of the gods has arrived with the Talrandian Delegation. He is demanding an introduction and meeting with you.¡¯ The words carried across the distance, transmitted from the speaker''s mind to hers without delay or hindrance by the intervening barriers.


    With the message came an image of the Champion.


    It was of a handsome and tall young man wearing the formal, ceremonial robes of the god¡¯s Champion when they appeared amongst the Talrandians. He was clearly uncomfortable in them; he kept tugging at the collar, and his movements were too overstated for the outfit. His legs strained the fabric, which required smaller strides to accommodate the tight robes.


    Rehn tried to probe his thoughts, knowing that he would have inadequate defences like all non-Amadans. To her surprise, her probe didn¡¯t react at all. It was as if the Champion were not there, his thoughts non-existent.


    Such a thing was impossible. All sentient beings had thoughts to read, even if they were simple creatures.


    ¡®His thoughts are unknown to me.¡¯ Rehn sent, and the reply came from the pair immediately.


    ¡®To us as well. We believe the gods are shielding his mind to protect their secrets.¡¯


    Rehn nodded at the thought. It was the most plausible answer. The gods would not want them discerning their motivations or pulling back the veil on their mysterious ways so easily.


    The things they could learn from the mind of a Champion was a temptation that neither Rehn nor the other Amadans would be able to resist. They would flay his mind apart to discover them if given the chance. Unfortunately, it seemed he was protected, untouchable.


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    ¡®He is determined to see the wedding to its conclusion. This will complicate things, Your Highness.¡¯


    Rehn let out a sigh. This blasted wedding was something that Rehn nor the Amadans accompanying her wanted to see happen. The peace would never last, regardless of what they did. The Talrandians were barbarians, little better than beasts, and it was they who had begged the gods for a peaceful resolution to this conflict.


    The distance between the continents was not insurmountable. There were other means aside from ships to cross the Azure Sea. The Amadans and the Talrandians had access to magic, making the gap meaningless. It was expensive to create the portals, but it made incursions into the other continents possible.


    They had only used ships to meet on Center Island to demonstrate their sincerity towards peace, but Rehn knew it wouldn¡¯t make a difference. The Talrandian Prince would undoubtedly offend her and her entourage in some way, and they would respond in kind.


    Center Island would be stained with blood regardless of the Champion''s presence or wishes.


    ¡°Damn the gods.¡± Rehn whispered to herself. That statement would not be transmitted to anyone, a private blasphemy murmured to herself that she would never utter in front of another. The Amadans may be relatively secular, but they would never risk offending the gods and inviting their wrath.


    No sooner had the words left her mouth than a trio of people were seen entering the garden. Ignoring the pair of Amadans in the lead, Rehn focused on the Champion.


    The image she had been sent was accurate, although it hadn¡¯t captured how impatient he was. He seemed to be chaffing at the sedate pace set by the Amadans. Rehn could tell that he wanted to rush ahead.


    Amadans weren¡¯t good at judging others by their expressions or the words they spoke. It was an unfortunate side effect of always knowing what other parties were thinking. Body language was nearly foreign to them, and Rehn knew that she would be at a disadvantage against the Champion if she couldn¡¯t read his mind.


    For example, she knew he was impatient to meet her, but Rehn had no idea if it was because he was eager to see her, get the wedding over with, or please the Talrandians. It could have been for any of those reasons.


    Finally, the Champion stood before her. Carefully setting her book on the table beside her, Rehn slowly climbed to her feet and bowed slightly. Certain courtesies must be adhered to, even though she chaffed against them.


    ¡°Champion. I am Princess Rehn of Ama¡± She stated politely. The man from another world nodded before sticking out his hand in the manner of the Talrandian commoners. She hesitated for a moment before taking it and giving it a firm shake.


    ¡°I¡¯m Mathew Larson of New York. I¡¯m here to make sure this wedding happens. So, the sooner we get this thing going, the sooner I¡¯m out of your hair.¡± Mathew said. He spoke quickly, and for an Amadan who was unaccustomed to listening to someone talking, it was difficult for Rehn to understand.


    ¡®How much easier it would be if I could just hear his thoughts!¡¯ She muttered silently to herself, not broadcasting the words to anyone. She knew the others shared her frustration. This Mathew Larson jumbled his words together more than a Talrandian!


    ¡°I¡­appreciate your efforts, Champion Larson, and I am honoured that you chose to come see me immediately on your arrival. But I fear your attempt will be in vain. There will be no wedding.¡± Rehn stated firmly, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°I was worried you were going to say that.¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew''s first sight of the Amadan Princess wasn¡¯t anything special. Rehn was beautiful, with blond hair that was done into an elaborate braid stretching down her back and a white dress that looked perfect.


    But he had seen beautiful women before, and after three months on a ship, he just wanted to get off this floor and onto the next.


    Like the other Amadans, Rehn spoke slowly and with a clear lack of understanding of the proper pronunciation of the words she was speaking. It was like listening to someone who had learned a language from a book but had never spoken it before. It was technically correct but deficient.


    ¡°You cannot force a marriage between myself and the Prince. Even a Champion lacks that power.¡± Rehn said, and Mathew let out a deep sigh. He knew this wasn¡¯t going to be easy.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to force anyone to do anything. And honestly, I don¡¯t blame you for not wanting to marry a Talrandian. I would have prayed to the gods to sink that ship if I wasn¡¯t on it. The ones I have met have been nearly all terrible people, and the Prince is amongst the worst of them.¡± Mathew confessed, and the Princess started in surprise at his honest words.


    ¡°But I need the wedding to happen if I¡¯m to proceed to the next floor. So it will be taking place. I don¡¯t care what happens afterwards; you can murder the whole lot of them as soon as the ceremony is over, but I need you to cooperate.¡± Mathew explained.


    ¡°So, what is it going to take for you to walk down the aisle?¡±

 Chapter 55 – Floor 6: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 55</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 8


    ¡°You want to come with me as well?¡± Mathew said incredulously.


    ¡®What about this floor made people desperate to leave?¡¯ Mathew thought to himself. First Amberlith and now Rehn.


    The former he could understand her desire to join him in the Tower. She was stuck as an apprentice to Bargoth in a nation like Talrandian that, despite its advances through magic, was rather stuck in its ways regarding Nobility and the role of women.


    Even as Bargoth¡¯s prided Apprentice, Amberlith had revealed to him that she would not make Magus for years, unlike some of the other male apprentices. It was frustrating to the intelligent and ambitious young woman.


    But Rehn was a Princess. Would she want to abandon her nation to travel through the Tower of Avarice and risk her life? If Mathew was forced to marry someone like the Talrandian Prince, he could imagine making that choice easily, but he was from another world.


    ¡°That is my requirement.¡± Rehn said, her words slow and awkward.


    ¡°What about Ama and the peace accord?¡± Mathew asked, and the Princess shook her head.


    ¡°The peace will be enforced as soon as the oath to the gods is sworn at the altar. Beyond stating that Ama will adhere to the will of the gods, bound by my marriage to a Talrandian, nothing will be required of me after.¡± Rehn explained.


    ¡°So you can leave as soon as the marriage is officiated? That seems like a rather large loophole.¡± Mathew stated with a fair amount of skepticism.


    The Talrandians had sought the intervention of the goddess of Serene Reconciliation to broker peace between the two continents. Presumably, because they feared the strange power of the Amadans after several skirmishes.


    From the stories Bargoth had told him, Amadan Psions countered Talrandian magic quite effectively due to their ability to read minds and disrupt thoughts.


    Mathew understood that the marriage was interlinked to an oath of peace between them, but it seemed rather dubious that a goddess would allow the critical piece of the agreement to flee after the ceremony.


    ¡°The gods demand peace and my compliance to their will, not for me to be a dutiful wife. My alternative was to marry and then immediately kill my husband. The peace will last, although I will become a criminal. This seems a better alternative as long as my freedom from marital bondage is assured.¡± Rehn expressed.


    The more the princess spoke, the easier it became for Mathew to understand her words. Whether it was her growing comfort in verbalizing her statements or Mathew¡¯s ear becoming accustomed to the strange Amadan accent, he didn¡¯t know.


    Mathew thought over her demands for a moment before nodding.


    ¡°The most important thing to me is that the marriage proceeds. My stated objective is to ¡®Travel to Center Island, the only landmass on the Azure Sea and ensure the marriage succeeds.¡¯ I¡¯m not sure what the goddess of Serene Reconciliation¡¯s definition of ¡®succeeds¡¯ is, but you can come with me once I receive confirmation that I have accomplished my objective, as long as you swear to cooperate.¡± Mathew promised.


    ¡°How will I know when you have accomplished your goal?¡± Rehn asked, wary of trickery.


    ¡°My silver wristband is connected to the Tower of Avarice¡­the place where we serve the gods.¡± Mathew explained, holding up his wrist. The silver bangle caught the light.


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    ¡°When the marriage is considered a ¡®success,¡¯ it will vibrate, and words will appear to confirm that I may leave. Don¡¯t worry, I promise that if there is a way for you to come with me, I will take you. But I can¡¯t guarantee it. I don¡¯t have control over the Tower.¡± Mathew warned.


    Rehn studied him for a moment, silently cursing the fact that she couldn¡¯t read his facial expression or tone to spot any duplicity. Mathew seemed sincere, but she had no way to confirm it. If only she could read his mind!


    ¡°Then you will swear on the gods that you will do your utmost to bring me. A binding oath on the goddess of Serene Reconciliation.¡± Rehn stated, her head held proudly at her demand.


    Mathew let out a sigh, not looking forward to the feeling of the binding oath, but it seemed the quickest and easiest way of accomplishing his goal. He agreed.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew stayed at the Amadan Embassy for the next several days while they prepared for the marriage ceremony. It was only proper as he had spent months with the Talrandians, learning their customs and getting to know their Prince.


    Compared to them, the Amadans were a more straightforward people. They valued quiet and calm, likely a side effect of their Psion abilities. Mathew was an oddity amongst them; he had learned that no one in their company could read his mind, and Rehn spent hours attempting to counteract whatever protection he had.


    In return for participating in her ¡®experiments,¡¯ she gave him complete access to their building, books and works of literature and even answered whatever questions he had about her abilities.


    All Amadan could read minds and project their own thoughts to others. But the truly powerful amongst them could do so much more. Rehn, for example, could also ¡®Scry¡¯ far away objects or people. It would grant her an image of them, and she could roughly determine their location.


    She could also move objects, pulling them toward her or pushing them away. But it was the stories of her tutors that terrified Mathew.


    The ability to create portals to anywhere on the planet to instantly travel there, to imprison someone in Psychic chains so strong that even the strongest creatures could not move an inch.


    Rehn had even heard rumours that there were those amongst her people who could divine the future, although she had never experienced such a thing for herself.


    It was fascinating, and Mathew imagined that if Rehn entered the Tower of Avarice and had access to Aether, her powers would only grow stronger. He was curious about if she would be offered a chance to enter or granted a Discipline.


    Only time could tell.


    There were roughly three hundred Amadans on the island, equal in numbers to the Talrandians. Mathew didn¡¯t have time to meet them all, nor did many of them wish to meet or speak with him, but he did become more familiar with those staying here.


    The two people he had met when he had first arrived were the leaders of the Amadans. The woman had been the governor of the Island, while the man had been the organizer of the expedition across the Azure Sea.


    After the first day, he rarely saw anyone but Rehn, even when he was wandering the Embassy. He suspected they were avoiding him, unnerved by his ability to block their abilities.


    Aside from the large building, the Amadans had buildings throughout their half of the island, many of them temporary constructions to house the wedding delegation. More people were staying on the ship. The Amadan magic had enlarged the interior and made it as comfortable as the Embassy.


    Finally, after three days of waiting, the wedding ceremony was ready to take place.


    To symbolize the coming together of the two continents, it would take place at the exact geographical center of the island, where a large pavilion had been erected.


    Typically, Mathew would be conducting the ceremony as the representative of the gods, but he immediately rejected that task. Instead, a priest from both the Talrandians and the Amadans would split the duty, with Mathew watching and ready to step in to prevent anything from interfering.


    Waking up early that morning, Mathew donned the ceremonial robes of a Champion for what hopefully would be the last time. Grumbling as he pulled at the stiff collar and billowing sleeves, he waited in the white-roofed pavilion with the servants until noon, when both delegations would arrive.


    The ceremony itself would be simple. It would start with a meal, a symbolic ¡®breaking of bread¡¯ with the enemy, where there would be readings and entertainment before the couple would stand before the altar and speak their vows. Mathew thought it was similar to an Earth wedding, only in reverse, with the ceremony taking place after the reception.


    With that, the peace accord would be fulfilled, and Mathew could leave, along with Amberlith and Rehn, if they were able to.


    The beating of drums began, sounding in the distance. It was a signal that the procession from the Talrandians would be leaving their Embassy and beginning the short march to the Pavillion.


    Standing upright and giving his hated outfit a few more minor adjustments, Mathew went outside to meet them.

 Chapter 56 – Floor 6: Part 9

    <u>Chapter 56</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 9


    The Talrandians were led by their Prince, who was wearing ceremonial armour created just for this occasion. Made of magically enhanced steel, it shone as blue as the water of the Azure Sea and had the Talrandian dragon symbol engraved on the chest.


    A long, white fur cloak trailed behind him, held up by a pair of servants to keep it from touching the ground.


    Mathew shook his head at the display. Center Island was stiflingly hot and humid, and he didn¡¯t know how the Prince wasn¡¯t cooking in the heat. As he drew closer, Mathew could see a shimmer of light around the Prince, and his breath made a slight mist as he exhaled.


    ¡®Magic. He¡¯s using magic to keep cold in that ridiculous outfit.¡¯ Mathew thought. To think that something like magic would be used for such a mundane effect disgusted him, but it truly wasn¡¯t surprising.


    Talrandian musicians began to play a tune as the procession travelled the short distance from their embassy to the Center Pavilion. Over three hundred people were in attendance, all wearing their finest clothing, although most appeared to have been ¡®indulging¡¯ before the celebration.


    Even the Prince himself seemed a tad unsteady on his feet.


    Reaching the pavilion, the Prince greeted him arrogantly.


    ¡°Champion. I trust you enjoyed yourself amongst the Amadans, although I cannot imagine how you could suffer their company. Their aesthetics are displeasing, and I heard they sleep on beds of stone. Preposterous!¡± The Prince stated, and his retinue began to laugh and jeer behind him.


    ¡°They were very accommodating.¡± Mathew stated, not intending to engage in further discussion. He was saved by the opening of the doors to the Amadan embassy, where their Princess led their own procession.


    Unlike the Talrandians, the Amadans were silent as they approached, although Mathew imagined there was a mental cacophony happening that he wasn¡¯t privy to. They all wore humbler, duller and less ostentatious clothing than their Talrandian counterparts.


    If Mathew could describe the Amadans in a single word, it would be ¡®subdued.¡¯


    Princess Rehn was in the lead, walking sedately across the green lawn toward him. Wearing a white dress with a high collar, long sleeves and a flowing skirt that trailed behind her, she looked beautiful without appearing to put any effort into her appearance.


    Unlike the Talrandian Prince, who seemed desperate to stand out and deliberately attract attention, it was more natural for Rehn. She would draw eyes in any crowd, regardless of who she stood in the midst of.


    The Talrandians stared at the approaching Amadans with disdain. While the Psions would have difficulty reading the assembled crowd''s facial expressions and body language, the thoughts of the Talrandians were easy for them to understand.


    Even the subdued Princess Rehn grew visibly angry, her face flushing red with anger as her future husband scanned her body with a critical eye before shaking his head arrogantly.


    ¡°She is too-¡± Mathew cut the Prince off before he could make the situation worse. Although it truly didn¡¯t matter if he couldn¡¯t vocalize the words, Rehn already knew what was on his mind.


    ¡°Princess Rehn, I am honoured to be here with you both on this auspicious day! You look wonderful, as radiant as the sun above us.¡± Mathew flattered shamelessly, hoping to defuse the situation slightly.


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    Behind the Prince and near her master, Amberlith looked at Mathew strangely. She hadn¡¯t seen him in the past few days, so she didn¡¯t know the nature of his relationship with Rehn, but he wasn¡¯t one to normally sweet-talk someone. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the pair.


    ¡°Thank you, Champion.¡± Rehn replied, bowing her head slightly.


    ¡°Perhaps we should all enter and begin the ceremony.¡± Mathew added quickly, again heading off any comments by the Prince or the Talrandians. Mathew waved his hand, gesturing toward the Pavilion. Chairs and tables had been set by servants earlier that morning, the arrangements overseen by Mathew himself.


    The Amadans would be seated on the left, the Talrandians on the right, while Mathew occupied a table and chair in the front of the room, directly in the center of both groups. Facing the crowd, he would have Rehn seated on his right while the Prince was on his left.


    An empty space was kept in the middle of the pavilion, where entertainers would perform.


    ¡®Or where the fighting would take place. This tent is a powder keg.¡¯ Mathew said quietly, and the Pavilion was silent save for the sound of shuffling feet and scraping chairs on the wooden platform beneath them.


    He watched the crowd carefully, looking for trouble, but they were mostly showing restraint. Occasionally, someone would let out a quiet curse, or one of the Amandans would flush red with anger, nearly leaping to their feet before calming once more.


    But it hadn¡¯t come to violence, which he was thankful for.


    Mathew had wanted them to get it over with, the couple to say their vows immediately so that he could accomplish his goal and leave this floor, but both groups had balked at the idea. There were conventions to follow and prayers to the gods to be said, and Mathew couldn¡¯t change that, even as the Champion.


    Clearing his throat, Mathew stood to deliver his short speech, the only time he would be required to speak today. He had even tried to avoid this, but Rehn had been adamant that it would be necessary to say something.


    ¡°As the representative of the goddess of Serene Reconciliation, it is my duty to officiate this wedding. We have gathered here today for the sake of peace and the symbolic joining of these two as the physical representation of the goddess¡¯ will.¡± Mathew stated, looking around the room.


    The Prince was leaning in his chair, his head resting against the back of his hand. Rehn was utterly still, staring out at nothing. It was obvious that neither of them wanted to be here.


    ¡°Let the ceremony begin.¡± Mathew finished, sitting back down.


    The wedding would consist of three ¡®Phases.¡¯ The first would be performances by entertainers from both continents to showcase their culture, traditional music and things of that nature. Mathew hadn¡¯t known the Amadans even had music, but Rehn assured him that the performance would be magnificent.


    The second would be a meal, where the Talrandians would enjoy Amadan cuisine and vice-versa. If there was going to be an outbreak of violence, Mathew didn¡¯t think it would happen here. They would wait until the third phase, a talent showcase.


    He had thought he had misheard Rehn when she explained that it would be a time of open challenge between the groups. The traditional airing of grievances that both Amadan and Talrandian wedding celebrations contained. Both sides would want to display their martial and magical talents in a contest between the two groups.


    It would be Mathew¡¯s responsibility to ensure that no one died during the display, a stipulation that left him nervous.


    With Mathew¡¯s command to begin the ceremony, two representatives from both sides stepped forward. They would be directing the performances, and by agreement, the Talrandian delegation would start first.


    A young man entered the pavilion, fiddling with the strings of a lute, and Mathew had to suppress a groan while the Prince perked up immediately.


    ¡°Ahh, Lugard! Excellent! Show these uncultured barbarians what true entertainment is!¡± The Prince shouted, and Mathew placed a hand over his face. The man was looking to start a bloodbath!


    With a broad grin on his handsome face, the musician gave a deep bow at the Prince¡¯s command. Plucking the strings loudly, Lugard stepped into the center of the Pavilion and began his song.


    ¡°A Prince so handsome he puts the gods to shame, sadly, about the Amadan Princess, I cannot say the same!¡± He strummed the cords, and the song continued.


    Mathew had never heard something so insulting put to music before in his life. If it hadn¡¯t been for the fact that he knew Rehn and the Amadans, which made Lugard¡¯s lyrics untrue, he could have praised him for his clever rhymes.


    But right now, Mathew wanted to jump across the table and throttle the idiot. Even the subdued Amadans were growing angry, especially when the Talrandians began to sing along. Some of them even stood and began to dance!


    The Talrandians had begged their goddess for a peace treaty, then proceeded to try their utmost to sabotage it! Did they do it because they knew they could get away with anything since the truce was a forgone conclusion?


    Letting out yet another deep sigh, Mathew rested his head in his hands and waited for the song to end.

 Chapter 57 – Floor 6: Part 10

    <u>Chapter 57</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 10


    Mercifully, the song ended before the entire pavilion could break out into violence.


    With a final flourish on the strings of his lute and a deep bow, the musician left the center of the tent to thunderous applause from the Talrandians and dead silence from the Amadans. Running his hand through his hair, Mathew first took a glance at Rehn to judge her reaction.


    The Amadan Princess was still staring forward, as unblinking and unmoving as a statue. Much of the song had been personal attacks against her, judging her against her future husband and finding her lacking. Mathew wasn¡¯t sure how much the Prince was involved in the songwriting, but he certainly sang along with the rest of the crowd during the chorus with gusto.


    Still standing and clapping, the Prince was flashing his white-toothed smile at the crowd.


    When the tumult finally calmed down somewhat, it was time for the Amadan¡¯s performance.


    A trio of performers made their way to the center of the stage. One carried a large harp in his hands as an Amadan servant placed a stool down for him to sit. Placing the harp on the wooden floor, the musician plucked a few gently soft notes before tuning it slightly and trying again.


    Flanking him were two women, both wearing pristine white robes. The woman on the right had her eyes closed while her hands made small motions in the air before her.


    Satisfied that his harp was ready, the older man, whose robes matched the two women, nodded his head slightly to the young woman to his left. Stepping to the forefront of the trio, she began to sing.


    It was a beautiful melody. The young woman¡¯s voice matched the sound of the harp perfectly. Mathew couldn¡¯t recognize any of the words. They were in a language he didn¡¯t know, nor was it what Rehn had spoken to him.


    At times, the harp lifted the singer''s voice, buoying it, while at other times, it faded and allowed her to carry to tune alone.


    But it was the older woman with her eyes closed that stole the show.


    Her waving hands began to draw images in the air, and it didn¡¯t matter that Mathew couldn¡¯t understand the song''s words. The meaning was being displayed before him.


    It was of a battlefield, lines of Amadans wielding weapons and fighting against an army of Talrandians on a muddy field while the grey sky above them poured rain down upon them. The ground was soon soaked red, churned by marching feet and covered in bodies.


    The song was of sadness and loss, and the images continued to show the deaths on both sides. Eventually, the tune changed to something more proud and hopeful as the Amadans began to win. Turning the tide, the Talrandians retreated before their army.


    ¡®Oh no.¡¯ Mathew said silently.


    This song was obviously created to commemorate a great victory by the Amadans, something that was equally angering to the Talrandians as their performance had been. Seeing the look on the Prince¡¯s face beside him was all the confirmation Mathew needed.


    The Prince was livid; his face was flushed red with anger, and he was gripping his goblet in a white-knuckled grip to the point where the metal was beginning to warp and twist, spilling wine over his wrist. Before the performance could end, he stood up and shouted.


    ¡°How dare you!¡± The Prince yelled, hurling his goblet toward the performers before anyone could stop him. The thick metal goblet flew toward the lead singer as the pavilion erupted in furious screaming. As it neared her, it suddenly stopped in midair.


    With a flick of his finger, Mathew sent the goblet back toward the Prince. The man was stunned by the action and couldn¡¯t dodge. The goblet struck him in the chest before falling back onto the table with a clatter.


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    The Prince let out a scream of surprise. The goblet had dented his breastplate. The perfect engraving of the dragon now had a large gouge in it, marring the image and the blue enamelling. At his yell, the Talrandians stopped their yelling and turned to look at their Prince in alarm, thinking he was under attack.


    ¡°Behave yourselves!¡± Mathew roared, standing upright and slamming his hand against the table in front of him. Not realizing how much strength he was using, his hand smashed clean through the table, and the piece of furniture split in half and collapsed.


    ¡®Oops.¡¯ Mathew thought, struggling to keep the enraged look on his face as the shock of what he had done threatened to show. He hadn¡¯t realized how much his level-ups had enhanced his body. He only meant to make a loud noise, not snap the heavy wooden table in half.


    ¡°You will all return to your seats. Now.¡± Mathew said coldly, his eyes taking in the entire room. Before the Prince could argue, Mathew rounded on him.


    ¡°Do that again, and I¡¯ll do worse than damage your armour.¡± Mathew threatened, and for the first time, the Prince was afraid of this Champion.


    Mathew had been through wars and battles during the year he had been in the Tower. The Prince and his entourage weren¡¯t as terrifying as an army of Goblins or undead. Before the crowd could respond, Mathew began to applaud.


    ¡°Wonder performance! A truly marvellous spectacle for both continents. I am sure the goddess of Serene Reconciliation is equally pleased. ¡° Mathew said, subtly reminding them all that the goddess desired this alliance.


    ¡°Now, I believe it is time for the feast!¡± Mathew said, directing the servants for both groups to begin arranging tables and bringing out the meals. While they waited for servants to replace his broken table and serve them food, Rehn leaned closer to him and spoke.


    ¡°What did you do? I didn¡¯t feel any magic when the goblet stopped, nor when it flew back toward its owner.¡± Rehn whispered, her voice nearly too quiet for even Mathew to hear. Modulating sound wasn¡¯t an Amadan strong suit.


    ¡°Really? I just used a Blessing.¡± Mathew replied.


    Ignoring both Rehn and the Prince after his reply, Mathew searched the room for the next point of trouble. Thankfully, nothing was happening as the crowd was too busy rearranging their seating slightly while servants placed covered meals in front of each of the guests.


    Suitably cowed by Mathew¡¯s display of magic, the Talrandians were as silent as the Amadans as they waited. He caught some people amongst the Prince¡¯s retinue whispering frantically, gesturing toward him, but no one approached.


    Mathew found Amberlith next to Bargoth. The young woman gave him a small smile and a nod of the head before looking back to her master. The Magus was quietly explaining something, his hand making small motions. They had both received their meals, but neither made an effort to lift the cover until the time for the meal began.


    Once the last of the servants departed and everyone had been served, one of the Amadans stood to explain their offering to the celebration. Mathew had difficulty understanding what the man was saying; his words were jumbled together in a way he had come to expect from the nearly non-verbal Amadans.


    ¡°The offering today is a white rice porridge, served with a selection of fruits from the continent.¡± The man continued with some of the other ingredients, but Mathew couldn¡¯t pick out the words. Lifting the cover, he saw it was ¡®congee¡¯ topped with slivers of vegetables, a plate of fruits and a small loaf of bread.


    Taking a bite, he found that it was rather bland compared to something from his Earth, but it wasn¡¯t bad, and he dug in. He was taking another bite when he saw the offended expressions on the faces of the Talrandians.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Mathew whispered to Rehn, and the young Princess let out a small sigh.


    ¡°They consider it ¡®peasant¡¯ food. They won¡¯t eat it.¡± She stated as she delicately dipped a spoon into her porridge and took a bite. Next to him, the Prince refused to pick up the utensil.


    ¡°Does everything have to be an insult?¡± Mathew asked with exasperation, and Rehn shook her head.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t meant to be. This is what I eat every day. It¡¯s their way of honouring me.¡± She replied.


    Soon, the meal was concluded, and the trays were taken away by the servants. By agreement, the meal would be Amadan, but the dessert would be Talrandian. Mathew was sure they would have some elaborate insult planned. It seemed inevitable.


    He wasn¡¯t disappointed.


    The servants placed more trays in front of everyone. This time, Mathew didn¡¯t wait for anyone else, and he immediately lifted the cover.


    It was a small cake, round and fluffy, with a cup of some kind of sweet sauce that would be poured over it. Mathew heard the Prince laughing loudly, while this time, it was Rehn who made no effort to pick up her fork.


    Confused, Mathew turned to the Prince, who was already pouring the sauce on the dessert.


    ¡°Why are the Amadans not eating it?¡± Mathew asked. No one on their side of the Pavilion would touch the dessert, while now it was the Talrandians who were enjoying the food.


    ¡°You¡¯ve spent time around them, yet you don¡¯t know? They may not eat milk or eggs. The chefs must have overlooked this fact when selecting today''s menu.¡± The Prince said smugly.


    Smiling at Mathew, he took a bite, and a look of satisfaction appeared on his face. If he was still upset at the Champion, he did his best to avoid showing it.


    Sighing once more, a habit that he hoped didn¡¯t stay with him after today, Mathew set about finishing his dessert.

 Chapter 58 – Floor 6: Part 11

    <u>Chapter 58</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 11


    ¡°I, Marath of Talrand, will demonstrate the superiority of our Empire!¡± The young man shouted. Pulling out his sword, he leapt over the table in front of him and proceeded to the center of the pavilion, where a space had been cleared.


    The meal had ended only a few minutes ago, just long enough for the servants to clear the tables. No one had even announced that the next phase of the ceremony, the showcase of talents, had begun. Marath had simply yelled his challenge and charged the stage.


    It was to the point where Mathew didn¡¯t care anymore. Everyone in the tent could murder each other to their heart¡¯s content as long as the pair beside him said their vows at the end. Beyond the requirement that the marriage proceed, everything else that happened today was outside his control or consideration.


    Marath was the young swordsman that Mathew had seen when he first arrived on this floor. Wielding a magical sword, it was incredibly sharp, and the man was skilled in its use. Mathew was curious about what would happen to his opponent.


    Violence was inevitable; both Rehn and Amberlith had told him that. But hopefully, it would be limited to the participants in these challenges.


    The historical intention behind the showcase of skills was to demonstrate their youth''s accomplishments and provide entertainment for the guests. Mathew had heard that on both continents, weddings were a time for the extended families to highlight promising talents in magic, music or other pursuits.


    Mathew had initially thought that it would be peaceful, but he should have known that it would be the perfect opportunity for both sides to air grievances and attempt to demonstrate their superiority over the other.


    The young man had barely reached the center of the white-roofed tent when an Amadan rose to his feet from amongst their section of the crowd.


    Marath was lithe and agile; all corded muscle and whip-thin. The Amadan who responded to his challenge was a beast of a man. Tall and burly, the Amadan had a servant fetch his weapon. Coming to stand in front of the Talrandian youth, he silently assessed him before speaking.


    ¡°Arden of Ama.¡± He said simply as a means of introduction before turning to Rehn and Mathew and bowing his head. By the time he had stood upright, the servant he had sent had returned with his weapon.


    It was a two-handed sword, its blade as thick as Mathew¡¯s forearm. Sharp on both edges, its hilt curved slightly, and its pommel was moulded in the shape of an Eagle¡¯s head. Arden lifted it easily with one hand, giving it a few practice swings without any apparent problem with its weight or size.


    ¡°How can he use that?¡± Mathew muttered. Even with his enhanced strength from his ¡®Body Stat,¡¯ Mathew doubted he could use the weapon effectively with two hands, let alone just one.


    ¡°He is using Psionics to lighten and control it. It is very difficult to do, lightening its weight when raising his weapon and making it heavy on the downswing.¡± Rehn explained.


    ¡°Could you do the same?¡± Mathew asked, and the Princess sniffed at the comment.


    ¡°If I were to face Marath, I would not need a weapon.¡± She said, a fierce pride in her tone. Mathew wasn¡¯t so sure. He had seen what the young swordsman could do with a blade, whereas he had only heard rumours and secondhand information about Rehn.


    Even though they were speaking quietly, the Prince heard them and snorted loudly at the comment/ Blessedly, he remained quiet and didn¡¯t add anything further.


    The pavilion was silent, with neither challenger making a move. After the pause extended to the point where Mathew was wondering if they would ever begin, Rehn subtly nudged him. Quirking an eyebrow at her, she whispered to him.


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    ¡°They are waiting for your approval of the challenge. You must set the rules.¡± She explained, and Mathew understood.


    Standing, he drew the assembled crowd¡¯s attention.


    ¡°By the goddess of Serene Reconciliation, the challenge is approved. There will be no death today, and the challenge will end when one of you is unconscious or forfeits.¡± Mathew stated, and the Amadan was the first to agree. A moment later, Marath bowed his head in agreement.


    Sitting back down, Mathew waited for the fight to begin.


    Arden swung his sword up high, gripping it with two hands and slightly behind his head. It was a position that would allow him to strike quickly and put the blade''s total weight behind it.


    Marath bent his knees slightly; with one foot in front of the other, he held his sword horizontally to his right. Gripping it with both hands, it was the same pose that Mathew had seen him use in their encampment months ago when he sliced a training dummy in half.


    ¡°It is no use. Arden will win.¡± Rehn stated with assurance.


    ¡°Why do you say that?¡± Mathew asked, careful to ensure that their words didn¡¯t carry very far.


    ¡°Arden is aware of everything Marath is thinking.¡± Rehn said, with a shrug, telling Mathew that the answer was obvious. Perhaps it was to anyone who was accustomed to the Amadan''s Psion abilities.


    ¡°Crashing Wave.¡± Marath stated, and his blade swept horizontally toward his foe, leaving a line of blue mana in its wake. Knowing it was coming, Arden was already stepping backwards. The blade slashed inches away from his stomach, and Arden responded with a heavy chop.


    Marath sidestepped, and the heavy two-handed sword buried its tip into the wooden floor where he had just been standing. Unconcerned with the weapon, Arden backhanded Marath as the latter tried to close the distance for another strike.


    The crack of Arden¡¯s hand striking Marath¡¯s cheek rang out in the Pavilion, and the young man stumbled backwards. A red mark was already visible on his white skin. Using the time granted by his strike, Arden raised his blade once more and raised it overhead in preparation for the next attack.


    ¡°You see?¡± Rehn said, and Mathew nodded. Being able to read your opponent''s mind was an almost cheat-like advantage in a fight. Even if Arden had no psionic abilities aside from that, he would still be formidable.


    Marath changed his stance; this time, the blade was near his shoulder, with the tip pointing directly at his opponent''s chest.


    ¡°Piercing Thorn.¡± The blade darted forward as quickly as a snake. Marath seemed to glide forward, his blade leading. But Arden twisted slightly to avoid the tip while his sword was angled toward Marath¡¯s neck.


    Mathew held his breath. He would be unable to halt that sword in time to prevent Marath¡¯s death, and he doubted the marriage would go ahead if one of the Prince¡¯s retinue perished here.


    His worries were needless as Marath pivoted at the last moment. Arden¡¯s blade hit nothing but air as the young swordsman spun around and delivered another slash at the Amadan¡¯s legs. Even if Arden knew it was coming, there was no way for the large man to avoid it.


    ¡°Roaring Wind.¡± Marath said, and Mathew swore he could hear the rushing of the wind from the blade as it cut toward the Amadan. Trailing blue light, it clipped Arden on the top of the thigh. Digging deep, the large man ignored the blade in his thigh and instead struck downwards with the pommel of his sword.


    Turning his head, Marath avoided the blow to the head that Arden sought. Instead, the heavy metal pommel struck his shoulder with a ¡®crunch¡¯ that made Mathew wince. Marath¡¯s arm immediately went limp, and he was forced to withdraw.


    Standing a safe distance apart, the two warriors assessed their opponents and their own wounds. Arden¡¯s right leg was soaked in blood, and it was already leaving a puddle on the wooden floor. Marath¡¯s left arm was hanging uselessly by his side.


    Gripping his sword with just his right hand, the young man was panting from the pain, and he seemed unsteady on his feet.


    Mathew was just about to stand and suggest they call it a draw when Arden spoke.


    ¡°One last strike, and we finish this.¡± He said while raising his sword. The blade vibrated in his hands, and the Amadan¡¯s face showed an expression of strain. Mathew looked at Rehn for an explanation.


    ¡°Contrasting forces act within the sword. It will move faster and strike harder.¡± Rehn stated. She didn¡¯t elaborate further, and Mathew doubted he would understand the specifics if she had.


    ¡°Flowing Water, Crashing Wave.¡± Marath said, once again holding his blade horizontally with only his right hand. The blade began to wail, a loud screeching noise that matched the vibrations of his opponent¡¯s weapon. A bright blue light began to coil around it, and Mathew could feel the mana gathering inside the metal.


    In a flash, Marath was moving. Arden met him in the middle of the pavilion, and when their two weapons struck each other, there was a blinding light and deafening noise.


    Mathew saw Marath shoot across the room and crash into a table while Arden knelt on the floor. His sword was shattered, and he held only a hilt in his hand while Marath was unarmed. The Talrandians and Amadans rushed to their respective warriors, and Mathew let out his held breath when he was informed that they were still alive.

 Chapter 59 – Floor 6: Part 12

    <u>Chapter 59</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 12


    ¡°Magic Bolt!¡± Bargoth shouted, ending his chanting of the incantation with the spell¡¯s name. A streak of bluish-white lightning shot off from the tip of his staff and streaked across the distance between himself and his opponent.


    The older woman, Oriole, was the island''s governor and one of the most powerful Psions amongst their delegation. Raising her hand, the Governor formed a glowing shield of Psychic energy in front of her that absorbed the lightning.


    Cracking energy discharged from around her, grounding into the wooden floor and leaving black scorch marks.


    Bargoth frowned at the ineffectiveness of his attack.


    The contest between the pair had started as soon as Marath and Arden had been declared alive and taken away for healing. To recover the shame of the loss, although Mathew considered their fight a draw, the Prince had ordered Bargoth to demonstrate his magical prowess.


    Once the Prince intervened and ordered the Magus to participate, Rehn countered by silently asking the Governor to match Bargoth. It became a contest of two wildly different forms of magic, and Mathew watched with interest.


    In his basic understanding, Talrandian magic was generally weaker than Amadan Psions. It required years of training, diligent study and complicated incantations or rituals to achieve what a Psion could do with a wave of their hand or a single thought.


    But powerful Amadan Psions were rare, and Talrandian Magi far outnumbered them. It became a matter of quantity versus quality.


    There was also the centuries of experience the Magi had accumulated in fighting the Psions to be taken into account. Bargoth had a few ways to shorten his incantations, block the Psychic attacks or even counter them. He used one of those methods now.


    Oriole waved her hands in a complicated pattern in front of her. Each pass of her palms left a trace of mana until it coalesced into a bolt that shot forward when she pointed her finger at her opponent. The bolt of energy created a roar of sound as it travelled swiftly toward its target.


    Not having time to respond with a spell of his own to block it, Bargoth reached into the sleeve of his robe and pulled out a small copper talisman. It looked like a coin on the end of a string. Muttering a short phrase, he tossed it in front of him, where it expanded rapidly into a large, round copper shield.


    The bolt of energy struck the shield with the resounding sound of a gong being struck. The copper shield warped slightly in the center, and the bolt shattered into fragments that disappeared harmlessly.


    The shield, now blackened, shrunk back to the size of a coin and returned to Bargoth¡¯s hand, where he returned it to a pocket hidden in the sleeve of his robe.


    ¡°Hah! Marvelous display, Bargoth! These mind-reading barbarians can¡¯t replicate our artifacts.¡± The Prince shouted, standing and applauding the performance from the Magus. Irritation by Rehn matched the Prince¡¯s pride, and she shot her future husband a withering look.


    It was true, to some degree. Talrandian magic lent itself to creating artifacts as a way to counteract the long casting times of their spells. The disadvantages were the cost and time required to make them.


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    While the coin had been protecting its owner, Bargoth had been muttering his next spell incantation quietly while occasionally tapping the bottom of his staff on the wooden floor. Each time he did so, a pulse of mana would ripple out from beneath it.


    Once the coin was safely back in his sleeve, Bargoth cast the spell.


    ¡°Earthen Grip!¡±


    The magic shot forward and surrounded Oriole. Mathew could sense tendrils of magic drilling deep beneath the ground and seizing the earth. Multiple hands made of soil and dirt broke through the wooden floor in seconds.


    Fingers reached toward the Psion, caging her in their grip. Seizing her legs and arms, they drug her downwards. More hands ascended from beneath the ground, and soon Oriole disappeared from sight in a mass of earthen hands.


    The Talrandians erupted into cheers and applause, to which Bargoth responded with a deep bow to his Prince and the gathered crowd. Running a hand along his long, white beard, the Magus looked at his work with satisfaction.


    It wouldn¡¯t break any of the rules. There was no possibility of the hands killing the woman unless she wasn¡¯t released in a timely fashion.


    Just as Bargoth was about to undo the magic, the ground began to shake. A blade of pure darkness pierced through the earthen hands, carving their way through the dirt limbs. Once the blade separated them from the ground, they lost their rigidity and formed piles of soil on the wooden floor.


    Oriole stepped out of the cage of hands. The sword made of black energy spun around her for a moment before fading away. Mathew looked to Rehn for an explanation.


    ¡°Shadow Blade, it was formed from Psionic energy.¡± Rehn whispered.


    The Prince stopped his applause and frowned. Cursing quietly, he quickly glanced at Rehn before returning to his seat. The contest wasn¡¯t going to end so soon, or effortlessly, as he had thought it would.


    Bargoth, who had been enjoying the crowd''s applause, sought to regain what Oriole had just stolen from him. Flushing red with embarrassment and anger, he switched his long staff to his right hand and reached deeply into the pockets of his red robes.


    ¡°You¡¯ve brought this onto yourself!¡± Bargoth shouted, withdrawing a long, amber rod from within his robes. It was topped with a garnet polished to a shine. Mathew could feel the mana within it, swirling around inside the gem.


    ¡°Lightning Bo-¡± Bargoth was cut off as Oriole held both of her hands up to her temples and closed her eyes. His words faded, and the wand in his hand lowered slightly. His eyes, which had been focused on his target, became distracted.


    Blinking rapidly, the red-robbed Magus looked around at his surroundings in wonder. The crowd was silent for a moment before the Prince stood and shouted.


    ¡°Bargoth, snap out of it! You fool!¡±


    The crowd joined in, shouting and yelling for the Magus to shrug off whatever trickery the Amadan Governor was using to confuse the Magus, but Rehn just shook her head.


    ¡°It¡¯s no use. He believes the illusion is real.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s happening to him?¡± Mathew asked. All Oriole had done was close her eyes and concentrate. What powerful Psionic ability was she using that could bypass all of Bargoth¡¯s defences?


    ¡°Apparitional Imposition. It creates an illusion that traps its victim within a crafted world. Oriole is powerful, and I doubt any of those present here would know they were trapped before it was too late to escape. It¡¯s harmless but inescapable.¡± Rehn explained.


    ¡°Clever, but if it¡¯s harmless, I don¡¯t see how she is going to defeat him.¡± Mathew commented, and Rehn gave a slight smirk.


    ¡°The illusion is harmless, but he is still in the real world.¡±


    Bargoth, still staring in wonder at a world only he could see, began to slowly walk forward. One foot after another, he reached Oriole, who suddenly snapped her eyes open. As the Magus was blinking, the illusionary world fading from his eyes, the island¡¯s Governor reached forward with her finger and ¡®poked¡¯ the Magus in the glabella.


    With eyes crossed, the Magus fell backwards onto the ground. Unconscious, his staff hit the ground and began to roll away.


    ¡°Nicely done.¡± Mathew said while the Talrandians were silent, the Amadans were psychically cheering and applauding their victory.


    ¡°I believe that¡¯s enough of a showcase of talent for today.¡± Mathew stated, cutting off the next challenger who was already standing from amongst the crowd. The Prince was about to argue when Mathew stood up.


    ¡°I think it''s time for the happy couple to say their vows. If you still want to fight after that¡¯s done, you¡¯re more than welcome to.¡± Mathew ordered.


    ¡®Hopefully, I won¡¯t be around when that happens.¡¯ He thought.

 Chapter 60 – Floor 6: Part 13

    <u>Chapter 60</u> ¨C Floor 6: Part 13


    ¡°I do.¡± Rehn said, agreeing to the marriage.


    With that statement, the wedding ended, and Mathew let out the breath he had been holding as a weight seemed to lift from his shoulders, and tension fled his body. It was over, his goal was accomplished, and no one had died.


    Yet.


    He doubted the peace would last long; someone on the island would say or do something absurd, and fighting would break out. But he would be gone, along with Rehn and Amberlith, if the gods approved.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    Standing by the side of the Pavilion in his ridiculous outfit, Mathew heard the long-awaited sound of success. His silver wristband began to vibrate, and burning words appeared on the ground in front of him. Visible to his eyes only, no one in the crowd reacted to the strange noise or the fiery letters.


    Floor 6 Complete!


    A lasting peace between Ama and Talrand has been forged, sealed with a marriage. Oaths have been sworn on the gods that will endure after your departure from this floor.


    Completion Bonus: You have been granted one (1) additional level at no cost.


    Additional Bonus: You have worn the attire befitting a Champion of the goddess of Serene Reconciliation. She has granted you a boon for your adherence to her follower¡¯s customs. You have a choice between:


    <ul>


    <li>One (1) Talrandian Spellbook or </li>


    <li>One (1) Amadan Psion Ability. </li>


    </ul>


    Note: The goddess of Seren Reconciliation will select a Spell/Ability.


    Please Proceed to Floor 7 in ten (10) minutes!


    Note: Your agreement to bring others into the Tower of Avarice will be honoured; the goddess of Serene Reconciliation has sponsored their entry. Entrances will appear to them in one (1) week.


    Mathew brushed his fingers across the silver bangle, closing the statement when he was finished reading. The elevator had appeared outside the Pavilion, and the metallic doors hung open to reveal the pristine interior.


    He felt a surge of energy through his body. The level-up that the completion summary promised gathered mana in his chest and then flooded his limbs with power. While most of the crowd focused on Rehn and the Prince, Amberlith watched Mathew carefully.


    Throwing back his head, he squeezed his eyes shut as the ecstasy that accompanied the level crashed down onto him.


    ¡®What is going on?¡¯ Amberlith wondered to herself. That was a massive amount of mana, more than she had ever felt from Bargoth or in the Spire.


    After what felt like an eternity, the power receded, and Mathew lowered his head and opened his eyes. He felt refreshed and renewed in a way that only an increase in level could bring. Opening the status screen, he confirmed it.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Trickster (Level 4)


    Coward (Level 5)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 14


    Aether Required For Next Level: 105,000


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    Aether: 78,000


    Attributes


    Body: 3.1


    Mind: 3.8


    Spirit: 0.3


    Blessings


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Max Tier)


    Catapult (Max Tier)


    He closed it swiftly, not needing to do more than glance at his current level and Aether. He had gained some Aether from this floor but hadn''t made much gains compared to a higher-risk activity like battling Goblins or the Undead.


    The free level-up was very much appreciated.


    And his rewards weren¡¯t finished; no sooner had he closed his status summary when two books appeared in the air before him. On the left was a Talrandian spellbook with the word ¡®Web¡¯ on the cover in gold. A summary of the spell was written in the air above it.


    Create a mass of sticky webbing at any point within 60 feet of your body. You may anchor the webbing to any surface or have it collapse upon a target. The webbing is flammable.


    ¡°Useful.¡± Mathew whispered after he had reviewed the summary. Turning to the other, he read what the Amadan ability he would be granted did.


    This one was also a book with a stylized eye on the cover and the word ¡®Truthsayer.¡¯ Intrigued, Mathew read the summary.


    The Amadans never lie; they are incapable of it. The ability to perceive the truth is fundamental to their culture and their faith in each other. Without it, their continent would come to ruin. The gods have chosen to grant you the ability to parse lies from truth.


    Note: The truth is in the eye of the beholder. You may only discern if a person believes they are speaking a falsehood.


    Mathew was stunned by the offering. Sure, he had been on plenty of dangerous floors that required him to battle creatures and monsters. It made a spell-like ¡®Web¡¯ very useful to have.


    But he was a lawyer. The ability to instantly know if someone was lying to him was incredibly useful. It made his choice a no-brainer.


    ¡°I choose Truthsayer.¡± Mathew said, and the Amadan book glowed brightly. Turning into a beam of light, it shot toward his forehead. Mathew¡¯s eyes glowed white for a moment before turning back to their regular blue.


    In his status, a new section had appeared.


    Abilities


    Truthsayer


    ¡°This floor turned out to be extraordinary.¡± Mathew whispered, incredibly satisfied with his new ability.


    While he was reviewing his new status on his wristband, Amberlith approached him. The Magus Apprentice had seen his odd behaviour, waving his hands or pointing at something that wasn¡¯t there. Then came another sharp influx of mana that was like a vortex around him, and his eyes glowed for an instant.


    ¡°What happened? Are you alright?¡± Amberlith asked. Mathew made a strange, dismissing motion with his hand and focused his attention on her.


    ¡°Of course, I¡¯m just reviewing my rewards for the floor.¡± Mathew replied, giving her a smile. She let out a breath of relief.


    ¡°You¡¯ve accomplished your goal?¡±


    ¡°Just then. And-¡± Mathew was cut off as another ¡®Ding¡¯ rang out. Concerned, he turned to find two silver bracelets hovering in front of him. Holding out a hand, the two pieces of jewelry fell into his palm. Understanding what they were for, Mathew turned and held out one of them to Amberlith.


    ¡°This is for you. The goddess of Serene Reconciliation has approved you to enter the Tower. The entrance will appear in a week, and it¡¯ll leave you plenty of time to pack and convince Bargoth to let you go.¡± Mathew said, placing the wristband in the young woman¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Truly?¡± Amberlith murmured, her tone tinged with disbelief and awe. Mathew nodded.


    ¡°Can you do me a favour? Tell me something that is true and something that¡¯s a lie. But don¡¯t let me know which is which.¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Umm, alright.¡± Amberlith replied, unsure of why he wanted her to do so, but she went along with it. After thinking for a moment, she spoke.


    ¡°I dislike eating fish. My favourite colour is blue.¡±


    Mathew instantly felt a strange dissonance when Amberlith said she said the word ¡®blue.¡¯ It reminded Mathew of a musician striking the wrong chord on a guitar or the incorrect key on a piano. It made him wince internally, and he knew she was lying.


    ¡°What is your favourite colour if it isn¡¯t blue?¡± Mathew asked, and Amberlith looked at him strangely.


    ¡°It¡¯s green. Is that one of your rewards?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Truthsayer. It should be very useful in the future. Listen, I don¡¯t have much time left before I have to go to the next floor. Hopefully, we¡¯ll see each other again someday. Be careful when you enter the Tower, work with the others you meet and be cautious on every floor.¡± Mathew advised.


    ¡°I will.¡± Amberlith promised. They spoke of a few other things before parting, with the young woman giving him a hug before they did so. Coming up to Rehn, he told her the same before handing her a silver bracelet of her own.


    The Amadan Princess stared at the silver piece of jewelry for a moment, turning it over in her hands.


    ¡°I was hoping to leave sooner.¡± She said, and Mathew shrugged.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t make the rules. Just try not to kill him while you wait to leave.¡± Mathew counselled.


    ¡°I will see you soon.¡± Rehn promised.


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    With his goodbyes all said, Mathew left the pavilion and entered the elevator. His last sight of the sixth floor was of Rehn and Amberlith watching him disappear into a flash of white light.

 Chapter 61 – Floor 7: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 61</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 1


    The elevator doors closed and blocked Mathew¡¯s view of the sixth floor. It might have been due to the months at sea, but the interior of the elevator seemed much more spacious than he remembered it being.


    While he waited for the elevator to begin to carry him to his destination, Mathew opened up the ¡®Judgement¡¯ tab of his wristband and reviewed the comments from the gods on his performance. There was only a single entry.


    The goddess of Serene Reconciliation is most pleased with your performance, attitude and the results of your endeavours.


    ¡°At least someone is pleased with me.¡± Mathew muttered, closing the screen. He thought about buying some items from the now available shop but decided to wait until reaching the next floor and reading the summary of what he would be facing.


    Mathew began to grow impatient as the seconds stretched to minutes, and the Elevator still hadn¡¯t started to move.


    ¡°Is this thing broken?¡± Mathew exclaimed when he heard a voice behind him.


    ¡°Hello, Mathew Larson.¡±


    Spinning around at the sound of the familiar voice, he saw the young woman from the lobby. She had been the first person he had met upon entering the Tower of Avarice over a year ago. The receptionist wore the same outfit he remembered: a grey suit jacket and matching skirt.


    She hadn¡¯t changed a bit; even her hairstyle was exactly the same. Time worked differently in the Tower, Mathew recalled. Perhaps what had been a year for him had only been a few minutes for her?


    ¡°Hello again. What are you doing here?¡± Mathew asked. He doubted she had come all this way to simply say hello and wish him good luck. He had the impression that everything she did had a purpose.


    ¡°I¡¯ve come to make a confession.¡± She replied. Mathew frowned at the response.


    ¡°Oh? Regarding what?¡± Mathew inquired with curiosity. It must be important if she was here.


    ¡°Regarding you and the path you are on. You see, the tests you participated in when you first entered were not our only assessment of you. The gods have been monitoring your progress, and I have been watching you as well.¡± The young woman admitted.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. I know the gods have been monitoring me. There is an entire section of the wristband dedicated to their judgement.¡± Mathew stated in confusion.


    ¡°This goes beyond their judgement. Since you have left the first floor, your path has been set by your performance, by your temperament and the need of the gods for someone like you to accomplish tasks. But you are now at the point where you are a victim of your own success. It eventually happens to everyone who enters the Tower and survives. Your services are in demand by gods that may clash with your morality.¡± The young woman explained.


    ¡°You mean to say that they will start asking me to do things that I won¡¯t agree with?¡± Mathew asked, and the young woman nodded.


    ¡°Morally or ethically. The gods have need of Champions¡­All of the gods. Not all of them are as amenable as the goddess of Serene Reconciliation.¡± The young woman clarified.


    ¡°The god of Unprovoked Murder.¡± Mathew replied, and the young woman shrugged at the answer.


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    ¡°You have hit the proverbial nail on the head, Mathew. The god of Unprovoked Murder has requested your services. They have requested you specifically, in fact.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s why you¡¯re here, to warn me?¡± Mathew inquired.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to offer you a choice. From this point onward, you will choose your path forward through the Tower. It is a gift from the Tower of Avarice to its participants, one typically accessible at a higher floor when a participant crosses this threshold.¡± She stated.


    ¡°What does this gift cost?¡± Mathew asked. Nothing in the Tower of Avarice was free. He had learned that during his time here.


    ¡°Deviations from the path the gods have determined for you have consequences. Observe.¡± The young woman said. Coming to the front of the elevator and standing next to him, she placed her hand on the white wall next to the closed silver doors.


    At her touch, buttons appeared. A ¡®1¡¯ and ¡®2¡¯ set in a silver panel like any other elevator Mathew had been in when he was still on Earth. Above them was a small screen with a summary of the options available to him.


    Floor 7: Option 1 ¨C End of Harmony.


    The world of Elysium is a paradise, one that has not known war for millennia. Under the guidance of their king, its people are harmonious and happy. Peace reigns, but at a cost. They have lost their faith in the gods, and Aether is not as plentiful as it once was.


    The people need a reason to renew their faith.


    Objective: Travel to Elysium, murder their king and bring faith back to its people by fire and sword.


    Patron Deity of Floor 7: The god of Unprovoked Murder


    Rewards: Low.


    Risk: Low


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Mathew exclaimed, reading the summary for his first option twice before comprehending it.


    ¡°You want me to go to a world and massacre the inhabitants all so that they will pray to the gods for me to stop? What kind of sick joke is that?¡± Mathew shouted, turning to look at the young woman.


    ¡°It is what¡¯s required of you. As I said, sometimes the tasks of the gods will clash with your morality. There have been plenty of others inside the Tower who would leap at a chance for an easy Floor like this, with the promised rewards and patronage of a deity like that.¡± She explained, and Mathew shook his head in disgust.


    ¡°I won¡¯t do it.¡± Mathew said, and she shrugged.


    ¡°Then you will have to take option ¡®2.¡¯¡± She replied, pointing at the screen. Mathew scanned the summary in the hope that it would be better than the first.


    Floor 7: Option 2 ¨C Invasion!


    The world of Banath has been invaded by an Outer Deity, a being of pure malice and destruction that has ended all life on the planet. With it comes a horde of demons and fiends, creatures of horror and wrath that thrive on destruction.


    The god of Righteous Subjugation has led a campaign to drive it out of the Demesne of the Tower gods.


    Hundreds of millions of Champions have answered the call to fight, whether for justice or for the rewards, each with their own reason to fight.


    Objective: Travel to Banath, cleanse the planet of all enemies and return it to the control of the Tower of Avarice.


    Patron Deity of Floor 7: The god of Righteous Subjugation.


    Rewards: High. Each defeated demon and fiend will secure you 100% of its Aether. The Tower Shop will be open at all times throughout the entirety of the floor. All restrictions regarding the purchase of Blessings have been lifted. All Disciplines offered on advancement will be one (1) level of rarity higher.


    Risk: High.


    Mathew stared at the screen.


    ¡°What is an ¡®Outer Deity?¡¯¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°A god from outside the Tower of Avarice.¡± The young woman said, not offering any more information than that. Mathew looked at her expectantly, waiting for more information, but she didn¡¯t say a word. He gave up after a minute. There were things about the Tower that she wouldn¡¯t reveal to him.


    ¡°The other players that have entered option 2, did they have a similar choice as me?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Yes, although not with the exact same circumstances. Most chose this option due to the high rewards, which is commensurate with the risk you will face on the floor.¡± She stated.


    ¡°So my choice is to murder innocents and throw away any sense of morality I have or throw myself into the meat grinder.¡± Mathew muttered.


    ¡°I can offer you one additional piece of information authorized by the goddess of Serene Reconciliation. Choosing Option 2 may help you in your future endeavours.¡± The young woman offered, and Mathew was silent for a moment.


    ¡°I choose Option 2.¡± Mathew said, pressing the small button with a ¡®2¡¯ on it. Once he was committed, he turned to speak to the young woman again, only to find that he was alone once more.

 Chapter 62 – Floor 7: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 62</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 2


    The sky was crimson.


    It wasn¡¯t a reflection of fire off the clouds or some trick of the light that made it seem reddish to Mathew¡¯s eye; the sky was a bright red with an angry scarlet sun hanging overhead. There was a lack of clouds, nor was there a single living thing in sight.


    Mathew¡¯s boots made puffs of dust rise from the arid, dead ground as he exited the elevator. The air was dry, completely lacking in moisture. His skin prickled uncomfortably, and he could feel his lips become parched and chapped.


    He stood on a rocky hill, the grey stone and earth barren and empty. But he wasn¡¯t alone. Hundreds of people around him were looking at the strange new world they found themselves in. They wore a variety of clothing, informing Mathew of their disparate backgrounds and Disciplines.


    A loud screech rang out, echoing off the hillside, and Mathew ducked slightly reflectively. A massive shadow obscured the sun. Sounding out once more, the creatures travelling far above them moved in a pack. With feathered wings, they looked like birds but monstrous and misshapen.


    A deafening bang interrupted Mathew¡¯s thoughts, and a streak of fire shot towards the creatures. Wheeling about, they scattered before dropping swiftly toward the horizon and out of sight of where the fire had come from.


    In the distance, Mathew could see tens of thousands of people gathered on a flat plain below them. They had dug a large trench in front of them with a barrier of rocks behind it and were currently adding to their defences. They had tents and makeshift shelters, almost like it was a temporary community.


    The ground began to shake, and the wind rose quickly, blowing dirt and grit into Mathew¡¯s eyes and mouth. Distant shouting accompanied the rumble, and darkness began to creep toward the community of people from the far end of the field.


    A horde of monsters was rushing toward the defending humans, their numbers appearing as a dark mass on the arid field. They were humanoid, their sky grey and sickly. Instead of hands, their limbs ended in long, bladelike appendages. They screamed in their madness, racing as quickly as they could toward the humans.


    ¡°Look out!¡± Someone shouted, and Mathew turned to see them pointing to their left. The flight of winged monsters had returned, swooping down low over the ground to pounce on those who had just left the protection of the elevators.


    Mathew watched as a young woman was picked up in the claws of the demonic birds. Their feathered wings were mottled and rotten, their eyes crimson and hungry. Lifting the screaming young woman into the air, a group of the monsters tore into her.


    ¡°Run!¡± Another man yelled, and Mathew was pushed and shoved as the hundreds of people were desperate to escape the madness. A few of the more daring or calm amongst them began to fight back, hurling fire and other magics at the creatures, but the birds shrugged off the hottest flames.


    One Blessing sent a cone of frost into the air, where it coated the wings of the monsters and sent them plummeting to the ground. A woman wielding a spear stabbed the creature, and Mathew could see the Aether released by the dead bird.


    So strong was the Aether that it formed a visible, blue haze around it. Absorbing the Aether swiftly, the woman yelled in excitement and dashed toward another of the fallen creatures.


    The hill around him was a scene of complete chaos. People were screaming, whether in pain and agony or delight and excitement. Mathew had no idea. Hundreds fought the demonic birds with magic or weapons, and it was all he could do to avoid the monsters'' grasping claws and piercing beaks.


    A feathered wing knocked Mathew off his feet as the creature dived on a nearby man. Mathew felt the Coward¡¯s Brand on his chest burn with mana to ward off most of the blow, but the impact still forced him to roll and tumble down the uneven ground.


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    After finally stopping his tumble, Mathew climbed to his knees when a terrible screech sounded out right behind him. Another of the birds had focused its gaze on him, and it was only moments away from striking.


    Snapping his fingers, Mathew conjured a towering pillar of flames, only for the bird to completely ignore it. Bursting through the fire, with not even a single of its feathers singed by the flames, its talons dug into his flesh painfully.


    ¡®It¡¯s immune to fire!¡¯ Mathew thought as the Coward¡¯s Brand was unable to protect him from the attack. A searing pain shot through his chest, and he felt himself begin to rise into the air. The bird, far larger than him, was picking him up to carry him away.


    Looking around desperately for something to fight it off, Mathew saw a discarded axe on the ground a few feet away. Its owner was a mangled mess nearby, having been dropped from a great height by one of the monster birds.


    Focusing his mind and mana, Mathew pushed the pain of the talons gripping him and flicked his finger toward the axe. ¡®Catapult¡¯ activated, and the axe flew toward him in a blur, colliding with the bird¡¯s wing. It screeched loudly in pain. Its wing now hung uselessly, and it plummeted nearly ten feet to the ground.


    Mathew landed on his feet and rolled to absorb the impact of the fall as the monstrous creature that had been gripping him crashed on the ground and began to squawk and cry out in pain. It attempted to pry the axe out of its wing to escape.


    Not giving it a chance, Mathew ran forward and seized the axe in both hands. With all his enhanced strength, he ripped it free of its wing and repeatedly slammed it down on the bird¡¯s head. By the third blow, he felt its skull collapse, and it fell lifeless.


    A miasma of Aether rushed from the body, quickly surrounding him and was absorbed by his skin. The smell of spice reminded him of the Pit, the presence of Aether so strong that it overpowered his senses. Raising the axe, Mathew looked around for a moment.


    The chaos of the attack was ongoing, both on the hill and the plains below. People were struggling and dying all around him, falling to talons and claws, or the humanoid creatures with blades for limbs. There was no safety, nowhere to run and hide. The only way to survive would be to band together and fight.


    It seemed a number of his fellow ¡®players¡¯ understood that lesson. They were already running down the hill, fighting off the demonic and twisted birds as they did so.


    Hefting the axe, Mathew ran with them. Occasionally, he would flick his finger, activating ¡®Catapult¡¯ to send a weapon, item or even rocks at the birds that tried to target him.


    Several times, he was knocked down, and once, when he was nearing the bottom of the hill, a talon slashed him across the cheek. Even the Coward¡¯s Brand was unable to protect him from the razor-sharp claws, and blood flowed down his face.


    ¡°Over here!¡± A young woman shouted from a circle of over twenty other people. They had managed to secure a small area, with several of their number firing arrows, crossbows and even rifles at the birds to keep them away. With a large rock that jutted from the side of the hill, it provided them some shelter.


    Mathew skidded the last few feet, sliding on the ground as a bird pierced with arrows nearly struck him as it fell. Through a cloud of bluish Aether, he reached the group. Spinning around, he dropped the axe and sent it flying toward another bird that was about to attack them.


    The axe bounced off the bird''s thick feathers; the angle had been slightly off, and it tumbled to the ground. The bird had been knocked off course, and when Mathew sent the axe against it again, his aim was better.


    Sprinting to the downed monster, he plucked the axe and returned to their encampment, where more and more players joined them. With their increase in numbers came more security, and finally, the birds were driven off.


    Mathew leaned against the rock, panting at the physical exertion. Months at sea had softened him, if not physically then mentally. He had lost some of the edge that he had earned fighting the undead and goblins. He wasn¡¯t ready to be on a battlefield, fighting against monsters for his life.


    But things weren¡¯t over yet. With the crimson sun overhead, they only had a minute''s respite when the fighting on the plains began to spill over toward them. The strange creatures with blades for arms, howling for blood, flanked the defending humans.


    Unfortunately, that put them directly into the path of Mathew and the other new arrivals. With their numbers swelling to hundreds, the circle of defenders readied themselves as these new monsters hurled themselves at the humans.


    Mathew catapulted the axe against the creature, the swiftness of their movement hampered by the closeness of their ranks.


    They were inhuman monsters; the fact that they had two legs and two arms was the only similarity between them and Mathew. With grey skin, horns protruding from skulls that lacked eyes, and teeth sharpened to points, they stabbed and slashed with their bladed limbs.


    In minutes, the arid ground was wet with blood. Red from humans and black from whatever these creatures were.


    Mathew spent the first few minutes on the Seventh Floor trying to stay alive.

 Chapter 63 – Floor 7: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 63</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 3


    The field was littered with the bodies of the dead and dying. Human and Fiend, the blood of both races watered the ground, the only source of liquid on the entire gods'' forsaken floor. Churned by the battle, the mud stuck to everything, and the smell was rancid.


    Of the humans, fewer than half of the hundreds of thousands survived. Many were standing, shell-shocked and unable to comprehend that they were still alive. The horror of the last hour was worse than many of them had ever experienced.


    They all came from Earth, and although they may have been born on different versions, it was still a primarily peaceful and stable planet. Where they were now was anything but.


    The fiends had been frenzied and tireless, intent on killing the defenders to the exclusion of all else. They didn¡¯t care about pain, nor did they have any sense of self-preservation. They shrugged off wounds that would incapacitate a human, and only when they were lifeless did they finally stop their murderous rampage.


    The makeshift camp was filled with injured players of the Tower of Avarice. Covered in mud and blood, his clothing shredded to the point where it was more accurate to describe them as rags, a young man was sitting on the ground, his back leaning against a crate.


    Mathew¡¯s hands shook, the adrenaline having left them weak and trembling. The past hour had been a blur. He barely remembered anything after stepping off the elevator. Even with his enhanced ¡®Mind¡¯ stat, all that remained from his time on the 7<sup>th</sup> Floor were images, flashes of horror and carnage.


    He remembered fighting off the monstrous birds and taking shelter with others next to a giant rock before the bladed ¡®Fiends¡¯ crashed into their ranks.


    From there, not much was left of his memories. He recalled using Catapult on every item and discarded weapon in sight, his only offensive Blessing since the Fiends proved to be as immune to fire as the birds had been.


    When he had run out of items, he had begun tossing the detached limbs of the enemy or the human dead. Whatever it had taken to survive, he had done.


    His inventory was empty. The most devasting item within had been Oscar¡¯s staff. The explosion created when he had catapulted it into a group of enemies advancing on his position had earned him enough time to flee.


    Mathew felt slightly sad about losing the ¡®Trickster¡¯s Coin,¡¯ but the impression of the hole it had drilled into a Fiend''s skull had been burned into his memories, making the loss worth it. Opening up the shop, Mathew bought another three vials of healing potions.


    The lifesaving medicine was in unlimited supply, a needed miracle after the remaining thousands of people were all using it to recover. Mathew recalled there had been people with the Blessing to heal wounds during the fighting, but they were either too exhausted or dead.


    Splashing a vial on a nasty wound on his chest, Mathew winced as the flaming liquid began to seep deep into his skin. This wasn¡¯t the weaker variant that he had used on previous floors. The shop classified this elixir as a ¡®Standard Healing Potion,¡¯ costing fifty thousand units of Aether each.


    That number was once an astronomical sum, but Mathew could easily afford it after seeing the gains he made in the last hour. Watching the wound close, Mathew cursed the god responsible for ensuring that Levelling up on this floor would not heal their bodies or refresh their stamina.


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    While waiting for the potion''s effects to lessen before applying another dose, Mathew opened up his status screen to assess his new level.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: None


    Trickster (Level 5)


    Coward (Level 5)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 15


    Aether Required For Next Level: 120,000


    Aether: 33,000


    Attributes


    Body: 3.2


    Mind: 4.0


    Spirit: 0.3


    Blessings


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Max Tier)


    Catapult (Max Tier)


    Truthsayer


    Mathew hadn¡¯t been offered a new Discipline yet, nor had he really sought it out in the shop or any of the other tabs on the wristband¡¯s screens. With the surge of strength the level-up provided, Mathew knew that something was wrong when he was still injured and exhausted.


    The answer had come from the ¡®Judgement¡¯ tab.


    The Outer Deity has tainted this Floor and laid claim to the land as its domain. Levelling will no longer provide the benefits it once did, and all future Discipline/Blessing selections will be affected.


    Mathew had cursed out loud when he had read that, only to have no choice but to sink a level''s worth of Aether into potions that he usually wouldn¡¯t need.


    The burning feeling that accompanied the healing magic began to fade, and Mathew pulled the cork off another glass bottle. Rather than using it on his wounds, he drank it in a single swallow. It was thick like molasses, tasted slightly of cinnamon, and had the faint coppery aftertaste of blood.


    Gagging on the taste of the potion, Mathew forced himself not to throw up. Coughing harshly, he leaned over to spit on the ground. Wiping his mouth with the remains of his sleeve that were nearly as filthy as the ground he was sitting on, Mathew returned to leaning on the crate while waiting for his stomach to settle.


    It was at that point that he spotted Samuel.


    The warrior Zealot that Mathew had first met on the third floor was nearly entirely unrecognizable. He seemed decades younger since the last time he had seen him, his hair black and long while the few wrinkles around his eyes and mouth made him look grim.


    The Zealot¡¯s clothing, once a pristine white, was covered in blood, both black and red, as well as a liberal coating of mud. He lacked his coterie of fanatical followers with whom he had fought against the Goblins of the 3<sup>rd</sup> floor. Samuel looked hard, bleak and terribly alone.


    Mathew could still feel the ¡®Buzz¡¯ at the man¡¯s approach, alerting him that Samuel was above him in level. It was hard to judge; the feeling wasn¡¯t something easily quantifiable, but Mathew estimated he was between level 20 and 25.


    ¡°You fought well. I didn¡¯t think you would make it this far.¡± Samuel said, coming to a stop beside Mathew. There was a recognition in his eyes that told him the Zealot recognized him, even though they had only briefly met over a year ago in Mathew¡¯s time, although it was possible it was much shorter to Samuel.


    Time acted strangely in the Tower.


    ¡°I got lucky, and I had help along the way.¡± Mathew admitted, thinking about the companions he had travelled through the Pit with. Even today, Oscar has saved his life again. He would have died without that magical staff and the explosion it created.


    ¡°What about you? Were you separated from the others when you came to this floor?¡± Mathew asked, and a cloud seemed to pass over Samuel¡¯s face.


    ¡°No, they are here. Somewhere.¡± Samuel said, gesturing vaguely to the field of bodies that stretched into the distance.


    ¡°I¡­haven¡¯t had the heart to look for them.¡± Samuel admitted, and it seemed as if the admission stole something from him. The ever-present halo of light that Mathew had seen in the past was gone. The Zealot seemed to have had his faith shaken.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Samuel. They were good people.¡± Mathew said, and the giant warrior nodded in thanks.


    ¡°I can help you look for them if you want.¡± Mathew offered. The bodies of the dead hadn¡¯t disappeared, not like what had happened to Oscar in the Pit. Perhaps it was the inference of this foreign god, or maybe it was a way to reward the survivors by giving them an opportunity to loot the dead.


    Multiple groups were already picking their way through the bodies, scavenging for whatever weapons, armour and supplies could be found. Even though Aether was abundant and the shop was open to all, no one here was above looting, not after seeing what they would be facing.


    ¡°That would be appreciated, Mathew.¡± Samuel replied, holding out a hand to help Mathew to his feet.


    Together, the pair began to walk through the field and look for Samuel¡¯s deceased companions.


    Mathew spent the first few hours on the Seventh Floor amongst the dead.

 Chapter 64 – Floor 7: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 64</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 4


    Discipline: Champion


    Summary: Due to the interference of the Outer Deity, the selection of Disciplines has been restricted, limiting you to this single choice. As a ¡®Champion,¡¯ you have pledged to remove the Fiends and their Outer Deity from this floor. There are no level limits to this Discipline.


    Patron Deity: The god of Righteous Subjugation.


    Stats: + Body, + Mind, + Spirit


    Unique Blessing: None. All Blessings in the Demesne of ¡®Righteous Subjugation¡¯ are available for purchase from the shop.


    Mathew had selected his new Discipline once he was finished looking over the battlefield with Samuel. They had found the bodies of his companions, and a few of the others were still alive but severely injured.


    He had also discovered that items recovered from the bodies of the dead could be sold to the shop for small amounts of Aether, propelling Mathew to the next level and the selection of his new Discipline.


    He wasn¡¯t pleased with the stat distribution or the fact that levelling up gave him very little in the way of actual rewards, but it still came with benefits. His mind was sharper, his body stronger, and his spirit became more connected to the patron deity of this floor.


    But it was the shop, and the Blessings offered there that drew his attention. Mathew had bought a new set of clothing, just a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, but had finally decided that he needed additional protection from the Fiends.


    He had started with leather armour, a breastplate, shoulder, arm and leg guards, and a thick, padded grey jacket that reached down to his thighs.


    Mathew had learned that even though he didn¡¯t know how to swing a sword or axe, it helped to have a weapon handy to ¡®Catapult,¡¯ so he had picked up a few knives and an axe from the battlefield. He kept them on a belt rather than in his inventory so he could use them quickly.


    But it wasn¡¯t just items that he purchased. He also bought a new Blessing with his remaining Aether. Costing over a hundred thousand units,  ¡®Mystic Bolt¡¯ reminded Mathew of one of the spells that Oriole used against Bargoth on the Sixth floor during their duel.


    Capable of sending a bolt of energy at his enemy, Mathew found the Blessing effective the few times he had used it against the Fiends. Their immunity to fire had forced him to adapt, and the trick he had used in the past of trapping and burning his enemies would not be applicable in the mad battles of the Seventh Floor.


    Mystic Bolt could also be upgraded at an obscene cost, but the damage of the bolt increased accordingly up to Tier 3.


    If this was one of the other Floors, Mathew would think that the hundreds of thousands of Aether necessary to increase its Tier was beyond his means of obtaining, but it was clear after being here for a day that he would need to readjust his perception of how much Aether he could make.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°We¡¯ve found where the Fiends in this area are coming from.¡± Samuel informed him several hours after they had finished searching the battlefield for bodies.


    The sun had set, and a single moon had risen in the sky above them. Blood red, it cast the ground around them in a crimson tinge. It felt like this entire world was twisted and wrong, with no sense of normalcy or safety to be found.


    Samuel had been included in a council of the strongest players amongst the thousands of survivors of the battle. Consisting of a dozen people, the Council organized their defences and planned how they would secure and pacify the area. It was impressive how much they had accomplished in only a few hours.


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    ¡°They¡¯re converging around a gorge a few miles away from here. The scouts we sent reported that there is some kind of portal at the bottom. We need to go there and close it before we¡¯re overrun with more of these Fiends.¡± Samuel explained.


    ¡°How many are we going to be fighting?¡± Mathew asked, and Samuel¡¯s expression shifted slightly.


    ¡°That bad?¡± Mathew asked, wincing as he recognized the look on the other man¡¯s face. He had seen a hint of despair, resignation and something else. Regret?


    ¡°Double our numbers, at least, with more joining them every minute. We don¡¯t have time to wait for more players to reach us from the lower floors. We need to strike now, or we¡¯ll be swarmed. But don¡¯t worry. We have a plan to even the odds. Some of our Forgers have built cannons for a bombardment. It should give us an edge.¡± Samuel clarified.


    Mathew ran a finger against the bottle of healing potion in his right pocket while he thought. They had only finished one fight a few hours ago, and now they were heading to another that was potentially worse than the last.


    ¡°When do we leave?¡± Mathew asked, knowing they had no choice. There was no leaving this floor without accomplishing their goal. And if the Fiends could replenish their numbers from a portal without end, they need to destroy it immediately.


    ¡°Now. Grab your things.¡± Samuel ordered.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The bombardment from the cannons erupted in a deafening cacophony, followed by the blinding light of the explosions and a cloud of dust that obscured the moon.


    The Forgers had worked their magic to create objects of destruction capable of obliterating an entire section of the gathered Fiends before the creatures even knew the human had assembled on a hill nearly a mile away from the site of their portal.


    Mathew watched from where he stood with Samuel and the tens of thousands of other people that the Zealot had collected from their camp for the expedition against the Fiends. The ground shook with the explosions, and for a moment, Mathew thought they wouldn¡¯t have to fight at all.


    But the cannons, as powerful as they were, were unable to stem the tide of Fiends that emerged from the gorge. Their numbers were nearly uncountable, their bodies a darkness against the grey earth as they disappeared into the clouds of dust.


    The cannons fell silent. They were either out of ammunition or they had broken from the force of the attack. Mathew didn¡¯t know.


    A nervous energy filled him. The mana inside his chest stirred at the thought of fighting these evil monsters once again. His new Discipline, ¡®Champion,¡¯ possibly affected his thoughts, making him want to fight, to cleanse this floor from the evil Fiends.


    If it was the effects of his Discipline, Mathew welcomed it. Anything to keep himself alive, remove the fear from inside him, and allow him to focus on the task.


    He tossed the axe on his belt onto the ground, along with a collection of knives and a multitude of other weapons he had scrounged from the battlefield earlier. He had a pile at his feet, ready to ¡®Catapult¡¯ at his enemies. All he needed was for the Fiends to come close enough for his Blessing to strike.


    All across the hill, people were readying themselves for combat. The Forgers weren¡¯t the only ones who had been busy. Summoners had brought thousands of animals to fight.


    Vitalizers had created Golems from the ground and rock or even from the bodies and blood of the fallen to the battle. Grotesque Flesh Golems shook the ground with each step, their giant figures towering over everyone around them.


    There were even Necromancers amongst the players, odd people that Mathew tended to avoid as they smelled of death and were constantly surrounded by Skeleton guards and zombies.


    The Disciplines amongst the players were as varied as the people themselves, and Mathew lost track of the different Blessings. All that mattered was that they were all together for a common goal.


    Like a wave crashing on the shore, the blade-limbed Fiends charged into the ranks of players, and the chaotic battle began. Mathew¡¯s vision narrowed until he was only aware of himself and the opponent in front of him.


    Flicking his finger, he sent an axe hurtling forward, where it struck a Fiend in the chest and knocked it backwards from the force. Not finished, Mathew pointed forward with his right index finger. He felt the mana surge, forming in his chest before sweeping down his arm and hand.


    A crackling beam of bluish-white light streaked from his finger and struck another Fiend. Like a lightning bolt, it hit the creature in its shoulder, spinning it around and leaving a burning hole in its body. It twitched for a moment as the shock robbed it of its ability to move before it regained its feet and continued toward him.


    The battle became a blur, the lines of skirmish moving back and forth. The night slowly turned to day, and even the players with their bodies and spirits enhanced by Aether, grew tired. The ¡®Council¡¯ who was directing the battle rotated their people as best they could, and Blessings occasionally provided a boost to the battling human''s stamina.


    Mathew spent the first few days on the Seventh Floor amongst his fellow players, fighting through the hordes of Fiends, before they were finally able to close their first Portal.

 Chapter 65 – Floor 7: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 65</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 5


    Mathew had taken to searching the battlefield after every encounter he had with the Fiends. At first, he had only been looking for items to use or sell to the shop for Aether, but after a while, he had an unshakeable feeling that he would find Emily amongst the dead.


    He would look at every face for hours at a time, the days stretched into a week, but he thankfully never found her. Of the millions of people that were arriving, he never saw her.


    But the sense of relief he felt at the lack of her presence never lasted long; the anxiety and worry would return, and Mathew would inevitably return to searching the faces around him for hers.


    The constant fighting, the endless fields of the dead, the screams and cries of the dying and the ever-present crimson sun and bloody moon began to wear on him. Persistent exhaustion that couldn¡¯t be relieved by levelling up or rest crept into his bones, his very soul, until the days and nights blurred.


    Mathew lost track of time. He operated like he was on autopilot unless he was in the thick of battle. Once his life was at risk, it was as if he came alive again. Nothing seemed real unless he was fighting the Fiends. There was something inside of him that revelled in it.


    Perhaps it was his new Discipline influencing him, or maybe it was the only way for his mind to cope with the horrors he was experiencing. Whatever the reason, Mathew grew to enjoy it.


    There were times when he was alone and resting that Mathew feared he was becoming addicted to the violence and the thrill of combat. During these moments, when he was covered in a cold sweat and his body would shake, he could recall his time on this floor with perfect clarity.


    Thankfully, the feeling would fade for Mathew''s sanity, and the memories would dull and blur. No one should remember the dreadfulness of this floor, not if they wanted to keep their mind intact.


    It had taken them two days to close the first portal. The losses amongst the Players had been devastating. Mathew didn¡¯t know how many they had lost; he hadn¡¯t bothered to inquire from Samuel, but he estimated that only a third of those who had arrived with him were still alive.


    By the end of the first week, after their assault on a second Portal, most of those with Mathew were new arrivals.


    ¡°Firsties.¡± Mathew muttered, recalling the term he had heard when he first arrived in the Tower. They had called Level 1 players by that title, and he remembered Maria had said she never bothered to learn the newcomer''s names because they died so quickly.


    Then she died.


    He had developed a similar habit here. Aside from Samuel, Mathew didn¡¯t know a single person amongst the thousands in their camp. He recognized a few faces, those that had survived the longest, but even those were becoming fewer as the days went on.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°That¡¯s new.¡± Mathew pointed at the weapon that Samuel had gripped in his right hand.


    It was a mace, the head a large piece of black metal shaped like a snarling demon face. It had an ominous aura about it, entirely at odds with Samuel¡¯s halo of white light and warmth that he always had about him. It had darkened since he came to this Floor, and he spoke as if his connections to the gods were weaker than it once was.


    Samuel observed the weapon briefly before shrugging.


    ¡°It¡¯s magical. I¡¯ve grown tired of every weapon I use breaking after only a few swings. The item description states that this one is nearly indestructible, along with providing an enhancement to my strength and the force of my attacks. You should look at purchasing some magical items as well.¡± Samuel advised, and Mathew shook his head.


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    ¡°Not yet. They''re too expensive for me right now. That must have cost a fortune.¡± Mathew replied.


    ¡°A million Aether, but it is worth it. The benefits of levelling are not as prominent as I would like. This seemed like a better use of Aether, although I don¡¯t care for its aesthetics.¡± Samuel frowned at the demonic face of the mace.


    ¡°Everything on this floor is tainted.¡± Mathew commented. The shop was quickly changing. The Outer Deity¡¯s influence affected all the items for sale, twisting them in various ways. The food was becoming tasteless, the water had an oily taste, and the clothing was foreign and strange.


    Mathew had also looked at the magical items, but where they would once be aligned with the various gods on each floor, they were now a mix of the god of Righteous Subjugation and the Outer Deity. What was upsetting to most of the players was that the Outer Deity¡¯s items were generally more powerful for the same price of Aether as their Tower counterparts.


    ¡°What can I do for you? I doubt you came all the way out here to show off your mace.¡± Mathew asked.


    They were in the remains of a city, and the ruins stretched for dozens of miles in each direction. Not much remained of the structures, just hollow shells and rubble. They had been here for a few days. The last Portal they had closed had been at the heart of the city. Many of the players were taking shelter in some of the collapsed buildings, and Mathew followed suit.


    His temporary home was a small hut with a half-collapsed roof. There wasn¡¯t any rain or poor weather to concern himself with, so the state of the structure¡¯s ceiling didn¡¯t matter. He just needed something to block the wind and the dust that it carried.


    ¡°We need a scouting party to go east, and I recommended you to lead it. I know your talents don¡¯t lend toward stealth or reconnaissance, but I trust your judgement.¡± Samuel clarified.


    The east of the city gradually sloped in a way that led Mathew to believe that it was once a port, the sea having long since dried out. They hadn¡¯t had any contact with any of the other groups fighting in the area.


    They had been on their own for nearly a week. Even the reinforcements had stopped arriving, although Mathew suspected they were being redirected elsewhere for the time being. Things had been too peaceful here since they had closed the last portal.


    Normally, peace would be good, but this floor was a desolate wasteland. They needed the Aether from the Fiends to purchase what they needed to survive, not just to grow stronger. It was better to hunt the Fiends rather than be the hunted.


    ¡°One of the ¡®Oracles¡¯ divined that there may be a new Portal to our west. I¡¯ll lead a group to investigate, but I want to know that we have a path to retreat if things get bad. Go east until you find a place that we can shelter if necessary or until you find other players or Fiends.¡±


    The Oracles were players with divination Blessings, something that had been invaluable on this Floor. They couldn¡¯t predict the future, at least not on this Floor, but they gained precious insight into what was happening in the world around them.


    ¡°I¡¯ll send you a message if I find anything.¡± Mathew confirmed, and Samul nodded wearily. The man seemed¡­drained. Like a candle that was burning out and barely able to drive away the darkness.


    Mathew didn¡¯t know him well, but he was closer to Samuel than anyone else living on this Floor. The man assured him he was fine, and Mathew believed him, but he hoped that Samuel would pull through. Everyone in the camp depended on him.


    ¡°Three days. If you don¡¯t find anything worthwhile in that time, come back.¡± Samuel ordered.


    Before leaving, Samuel paused, and Mathew thought he was about to say something else. The Zealot hesitated, unsure if he should, before shaking his head. There seemed to be a darkness about him, a heaviness that Mathew knew was getting worse.


    Mathew gathered his few belongings, placing them into his inventory, before putting on his long, thick padded jacket.


    The 7<sup>th</sup> floor wasn¡¯t cold, but the wind was constant, and it carried the dust and dirt with it. Mathew added a long scarf to the outfit to keep the dirt from blowing down the back of his neck and a pair of leather gloves.


    Suited and ready, Mathew went to meet the others. There were a few dozen of them, a relatively small scouting party compared to the tens of thousands of people in the camp. But smaller groups moved quicker and were able to hide better than a large party.


    Taking a quick head count and confirming their mission with the group, Mathew led them out of the ruins of the city and down the slope toward the former sea bed. When they were outside the city, Mathew looked at the ruins and saw Samuel standing on the outskirts.


    The large man watched them for a moment, his figure lonely against the horizon, before turning away and disappearing from sight.


    Mathew spent his first few weeks on the Seventh floor amongst the scouts, searching the former seabed for shelter and other players. He found several groups, adding their numbers to his own and fighting a few small bands of Fiends that they came upon.


    By the time he returned to the ruined city, well past the three days allotted to him, everyone he had known there was dead and Samuel was gone.

 Chapter 66 – Floor 7: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 66</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 6


    The Outer Deity was attempting to entice the humans over to its side.


    For nearly a month after he had returned to the ruined city with whatever people he and the other scouts had managed to find, Mathew had tried to deny that fact. But the evidence was overwhelming. Worse, he suspected that Samuel was one of its targets.


    It had started with items in the shop. Magical equipment aligned to the Outer Deity had appeared shortly after Mathew had arrived. Priced the same as the regular Magical gear, it differed significantly in power. Of course, for players fighting on the Seventh Floor against an army of Fiends, most were desperate for anything that could give them an edge.


    Mathe hadn¡¯t bought a magical item; he had instead focused on levels and Blessings, but several of the scouts in his party had. They began to act strangely after a few days, and after a week, they had disappeared into the night while out on patrol.


    It became a common story and one that worsened over time as new Blessings appeared in the shop. Like the magical items, these Blessings were more powerful than any Mathew had seen before. They were also ¡®darker¡¯ in nature.


    The Blessings affected the minds of the users or had side effects that damaged the body in return for more powerful attacks or abilities. One that had appealed to Mathew for a moment would allow him to teleport, blinking out of existence for short periods of time and reappearing wherever he wanted as long as it was within sight.


    But the downside to that ability was that it would use his own life energy as fuel for the Blessing. It would likely make him sickly and weaker. Although many would not care about the side effects in exchange for such a powerful ability, Mathew wasn¡¯t interested. Not after several of those who had taken the gifts of Outer Deity suddenly declared their allegiance to the god and fled their ranks.


    The straw that broke the camel¡¯s back, forcing Mathew and many of the other leaders in the city to declare an outright ban on accepting anything from the Outer Deity, had been when new Disciplines suddenly appeared.


    Mathew had been in a council meeting, discussing their next step now that Samuel and everyone that had stayed in the city was gone when they had all received a message on their silver wristbands. Rather than the burning words that they were accustomed to, these flowed like ink in the air above them.


    Discipline: Adherent of the Outer Deity


    Summary: The Outer Deity has offered the sons and daughters of Humanity a choice to join it on its crusade of liberation. All things are possible under its divine auspices. Seize your fate and cast down your false idols. Join it in exaltation.


    Stat increase per level: +++ Mind, +++ Body, +++ Spirit


    Unique Blessing: Keep What You Kill


    The Outer Deity requires nothing but your devotion and faith. You may keep the Aether you collect from your enemies. Kill and grow stronger. There are no limits under the patronage of the Outer Deity. We will conquer the Tower of Avarice together. Seize your desires from the grip of the underserved, and grab hold of your wish with your own power.


    Unique Blessing: Sheltering Embrace of the Outer Deity


    You are the chosen of the true god of the Tower of Avarice. No Blessing shall harm you. You may use the Blessings offered by the Outer Deity without fear of the side effects.


    Cost: Free


    Mathew stared at the words in startled wonder. Even knowing that the Outer Deity was trying to entice people to its side, Mathew could barely comprehend what it was offering. The gods of the Tower offered Disciplines with a maximum of three stat increases per level. The Outer Deity was offering nine!


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    Better than that, all the Aether collected in a floor would go toward the players. Mathew didn¡¯t know how much the gods of the Tower collected from them, but they all suspected they were only keeping a fraction of the total collected. Otherwise, why would there be limits on levelling on Floors?


    The offer was a temptation that Mathew was sure many would take. The possibility of keeping all the Aether on the floors, access to a Discipline with incredible stat increases, and the ability to use its Blessings without the harmful effects? Even Mathew felt the need to agree.


    A shout erupted in the large tent they had been using for the meeting. One of the council members had leapt on another, stabbing them with a dagger repeatedly. More shouting followed, and in moments, the entire city exploded in an outright civil war.


    When things finally settled down, a large portion of the humans in the city were dead, more had fled to join the ranks of the Outer Deity, and Mathew was one of the few people left on the council. They had implemented the ban shortly after.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°You bastards! I¡¯m no easy meat!¡± Greg shouted, firing the last bolt from his crossbow at another fiend before tossing the weapon onto the ground and drawing a knife in his left hand and a short sword in his right.


    He and thousands of others had just arrived from the elevator a few moments before. The summary for the 7<sup>th</sup> Floor had told him that this world was involved in a war against an Outer Deity and that hundreds of millions of other people would be joining him.


    It failed to mention that they seemed to be losing the war against the Fiends!


    The rocky ground he found himself on was covered in bodies, the remains of a battle that the humans clearly lost. When he had stepped out of the elevator, the Fiends were waiting for him. If it hadn¡¯t been for the steady arrival of others from the floor below, Greg doubted he would have lasted long at all.


    He had unloaded his entire quiver of bolts into the creatures, putting down a half dozen while a chaotic mess surrounded him. Greg could feel the Aether in the air; everything was practically saturated with the stuff, and he knew that if he could survive the next few minutes, he could probably purchase a few levels.


    A Fiend leapt at him, its bladed arms stabbing toward his chest. The creature¡¯s face was twisted in hatred, and Greg could see its pointed teeth when it screamed.


    He threw himself to the side, avoiding the Fiend¡¯s bladed arms and slashing at its torso with his sword. Feeling it bite, he followed the attack with a strike at the monster¡¯s throat with his knife. The Fiend collapsed in a spray of black blood, and Greg pulled the knife free and looked for the next target.


    There were plenty to choose from, and the next few minutes were a struggle that Greg would never forget. Especially when he lost his knife and his sword broke at the hilt. Throwing the useless remains of the sword at an approaching Fiend, Greg was ready to fight barehanded when an arrow struck the Fiend in the chest.


    Another soon followed it, and a rush of new people charged into the creatures. These newcomers were well-armed, wearing equipment that Greg thought was magical or of the highest quality. They used their weapons with skill, had blessings that were high-level, and worked together with a familiarity that spoke of their time together.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± A young woman asked. She had a rifle in her hands, a modified weapon that looked as if it could have come out of a Steampunk movie. It had strange tubes and wires stretching to her large backpack.


    ¡°Yeah. Peachy.¡± Greg replied. The adrenaline was already wearing off, and the wounds that covered his body were already beginning to ache. The young woman nodded, pulling out a potion from a pocket and offering it to him.


    ¡°No thanks, I¡¯m due for a level after this.¡± Greg said, and the young woman shook her head.


    ¡°Levelling doesn¡¯t heal wounds on this floor. Take it.¡± She said, tossing the potion to him. Greg stared at her in confusion for a moment. Levelling didn¡¯t heal wounds here? What the hell was wrong with this floor?


    Popping the cork, he swallowed the awful-tasting elixir in a single swallow. He could feel a rush of heat from his stomach that swept across his torso and limbs.


    ¡°Come on. You all are lucky; we¡¯re not far from the city.¡± The young woman said, gesturing for him to follow. There were hundreds of survivors from the new arrivals, and the group of well-armed humans led them to a group of ruins that Greg thought the title ¡®city¡¯ was too generous a word for.


    There were people everywhere, more than Greg expected to see in a place like this. He suspected there were at least a hundred thousand people gathered here, with more arriving all the time, from what the young woman told him.


    ¡°Wait here. Someone from the council will be by shortly to give you a rundown on what¡¯s expected of you and to go over the ban.¡±  The young woman advised, leaving Greg and the others waiting near a vast ruin at the center of the city.

 Chapter 67 – Floor 7: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 67</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 7


    Greg stood with the others, his arms crossed as he waited patiently for the representative of the ¡®Council¡¯ that ran this city and the ¡®army¡¯ attached to it.


    The ¡®Buzz¡¯ was a constant presence in the back of his mind. The tension in his body and the prickling at the base of his neck alerted him of players that were higher level than him inhabited this city. It made him stifle any impatience he may have felt regarding the delay. He was just a small fish in a big pond here.


    The hundreds of others who waited for him began to talk amongst themselves, discussing topics like the city and its people, where they came from, or their experiences on the previous floor. Greg tuned out most of it until a piece of conversation caught his ear.


    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to do that.¡± A woman said to a young man beside her. He was currently looking at the screen above his wristband, browsing the shop offerings.


    One of the first things the group that brought them here had said was that using the wristbands was forbidden inside the city until the representative from the ¡®Council¡¯ discussed the rules with them. Greg had heard that some of the offerings inside were ¡®banned¡¯ from players, that the Outer Deity tainted them. They were here to fight against it, so he hadn¡¯t been tempted to look.


    ¡°What are they going to do? Kick me out?¡± The young man said, flicking through the tabs. His actions drew attention, and Greg could see that a few locals who were there to ¡®watch over them¡¯ were beginning to notice.


    ¡°Hey! You can¡¯t be using that!¡± An older man said. He was part of the group that had rescued them, wearing heavy armour that showed signs of wear and a large, two-handed sword strapped to his back. He began to push his way toward the young man. His outburst attracted more attention, and soon, nearly a dozen people were doing the same.


    ¡°Shove off! I¡¯m not doing anything wrong¡­Hello! What¡¯s this? Holy shit! The stats on this Discipline are insane. They increase by nine after every level!¡± The young man shouted, backing away from the approaching guards while staring at the screen. His eyes were wide in shock, and Greg could see the excitement and greed there.


    ¡°And it¡¯s free!¡± The young man exclaimed. His words set off a wave of whispers and comments amongst the crowd, and Greg could see others pulling up their status screens to look at the offered Discipline. The group''s actions sent the ¡®guards¡¯ into a frantic pace to stop them.


    The young man who had first discovered the new Discipline was surrounded by others, preventing anyone from reaching him in time.


    ¡°It¡¯s called ¡®Adherent of the Outer Deity! It¡¯s incredible! Accept! Accept!¡± The young man shouted, and darkness seemed to descend upon him. An incredible rush of mana wept across the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust as it swirled around him.


    As suddenly as it appeared, the aura of darkness left. The young man was still there, grinning at the rush of power he suddenly felt. He had obviously used whatever Aether he had gathered from the previous battle to level up. His wounds hadn¡¯t healed, and nothing seemed to have changed about him physically, but Greg and the others felt something odd about him.


    The ¡®Buzz¡¯ grew stronger, and with it came more shouts as several others managed to activate the Discipline before the guards could stop them.


    ¡°You keep what you kill!¡± The young man said, pulling out a knife and immediately slashing at whoever was closest to him. The woman who had scolded him for using his wristband fell with a slash to her throat. Blood spilled on the ground, and the air immediately began to smell of spice.


    A cloud of Aether began to form, rising from the bodies as the young man dashed and twisted through the crowd, killing indiscriminately. The guards were unable to stop him. He seemed to have a Blessing that allowed him to ¡®flow¡¯ around attacks like a dancer, twisting and contorting his body to avoid harm.


    Worse, as the Aether grew thicker and more was absorbed by him, Greg felt the young man¡¯s level increase once again.


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    ¡°Someone stop him!¡± The older man shouted after his blade buried itself in the ground where the young man had just been standing. Combined with another dozen or so people having suddenly losing their minds, the area was a chaotic mess of combat.


    ¡°For the Outer Deity, Daolithin!¡± The young man shouted the name of the unfamiliar god as he plunged his knife into another person and ran toward Greg.


    ¡°Shit.¡± Greg cursed. He hadn¡¯t refilled his crossbow bolts since the last fight, as they had been forbidden from accessing the shop. His sword and knife were gone as well, leaving him bare-handed. He was about to raise his hands in an attempt to grapple the young man when a bolt of bluish-white energy struck the young man from the side.


    The bolt of energy, as thick as Greg¡¯s wrist, obliterated the young man¡¯s skull. The headless corpse ran for a few more feet before collapsing onto the ground. A haze of Aether rose from the cadaver, swirling for a second before streaking in the direction the bolt had originated from.


    Another bolt of energy struck another attacker in the leg, taking it off at the knee and spilling the enraged attacker onto the ground, where someone else stabbed her in the chest with a sword.


    Greg followed the lines of energy to find Mathew, someone he had seen on the third floor only a few weeks ago.


    His friend had changed, and not for the better. He looked like he had been through the wringer. He was not longer wearing clothing that would fit in on Earth like Greg remembered the young man preferred. Instead, he was wearing leather armour with a long, black duster jacket over it that shone with mana.


    Mathew¡¯s lower face was obscured with a scarf as red as the sun above them, and he had another red bandana tied around his arm with a strange symbol on the front in white. It was of a clenched fist holding a bolt of lightning.


    His hair was longer than Greg remembered, and his face was covered in dirt from the blowing dust. Mathew was pointing at the players who had accepted the new discipline, and each time he did, a bolt of energy would erupt from his hand and strike them.


    To Greg, Mathew as more terrifying than the Fiends he had been fighting before. It wasn¡¯t his physical appearance, although, with the magical jacket and his face set in a harsh expression, he looked like he could chew rocks. It was the feeling Mathew gave him.


    The ¡®Buzz,¡¯ which had been a constant thrum in Greg¡¯s head since he had arrived at the city, went into a frenzy at Mathew¡¯s appearance. Greg could barely breathe; his skin broke out into a cold sweat, and it felt like he couldn¡¯t catch his breath.


    The level difference between them was overwhelming. It had to have been at least ten, maybe even higher. It was difficult to judge, and Greg wouldn¡¯t honestly know until he asked. But Mathew gave him the impression of a lion in the presence of a house cat.


    What had his friend been through in the few short weeks since they had parted on the third floor? If it even had been only weeks. All the players had discovered that time worked differently in the Tower. Greg had spent an entire year with a caravan, while Mathew had told him it had only been a short time.


    When the last of the perpetrators of the attack were subdued, Mathew addressed the crowd. His blue eyes, worryingly cold, scanned the crowd. They lingered for a moment on Greg. There was a light of recognition there, and Greg breathed a sigh of relief that his friend wasn¡¯t so far gone that he didn¡¯t remember him anymore.


    ¡°My name is Mathew Larson. I¡¯m a member of the Council of Righteous Subjugation. We run this city and coordinate our efforts against the Fiends on behalf of the god that rules this floor. If you see anyone with this symbol on their arm,¡± Mathew tapped the red bandana on his arm, ¡°They¡¯re on the Council as well.¡± Mathew stated.


    ¡°The ban is simple: everything you purchase from the shop, all items, Blessings, levels and Disciplines have to be approved by the Council beforehand. As you can see from what happened here, the Outer Deity¡¯s taint is a serious concern.¡± Mathew explained.


    ¡°The Discipline you just heard about, the ¡®Adherent,¡¯ is a lie. Take it, and it will warp your mind, and you won¡¯t be any better than the Fiends we¡¯re fighting against. The god of Righteous Subjugation can be¡­quirky, but you¡¯ll enjoy all the same freedoms we had on the other floors if we stick with the things the Council has approved of.¡± Mathew finished.


    He spoke to one of the guards for a moment, making a gesture to the few of the ¡®Adherents¡¯ that survived before turning the crowd over to one of his assistants. Nodding to Greg, Mathew tilted his head, indicating that he should follow him.


    ¡°You¡¯re here. I thought that maybe you would have been smarter than me and picked a better floor to come to.¡± Mathew said as soon as they were out of sight of the others.


    ¡°You had a choice?¡± Greg exclaimed, and Mathew winced slightly at the words.


    ¡°Not really, it was between this and killing a bunch of innocent people. I was sure I made the right decision at first. But as times passed, I can¡¯t say that I don¡¯t regret it slightly.¡±


    ¡°How long have you been here?¡± Greg asked, and his friend took a moment to think.


    ¡°Three months? Maybe more? It tends to blur together.¡± Mathew admitted.


    Mathew had spent the past several months fighting Fiends and people who used to be players just like them in this hell. It was no wonder he seemed so different, so much harsher than Greg remembered. After seeing what it was like here, could Greg have done the same and survived?


    He honestly didn¡¯t know.

 Chapter 68 – Floor 7: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 68</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 8


    The portal glowed a dark red in the darkness. The center was a yawning void of nothingness, a tunnel to another dimension outside of the Tower or any reality that Mathew could imagine with his limited understanding of the universe.


    ¡°Bring it down!¡± One of Mathew¡¯s fellow council members shouted, and Mathew turned to see some of the thousands of survivors of the battle struggling to topple a totem linked to the portal.


    Made of black obsidian rock, it powered the portal and required the players to attack it with hammers, pull on it with chains, or strike it with Blessings to topple.


    Each portal was as unique as the area it was located in. Sometimes, a totem or structure empowered the gateway; other times, it was tied to a creature or fiend that would need to be killed before the portal failed.


    Mathew had seen dozens of them on this floor in his year here. An entire year of fighting, of watching everyone around him fall to Fiends and people who had once been allies but were now turned against them by the Outer Deity.


    It was a year in which Mathew had gained enough Aether to level himself ten times, increase his abilities, and purchase new Blessings and magical items, but he still lacked the strength to make a difference in this endless conflict.


    A year of the same dry, dusty world with an unforgiving crimson sun and blood-red moon in the sky as a constant reminder that this floor had been watered with the blood of tens, maybe hundreds, of millions of people.


    Mathew¡¯s thoughts were interrupted by the deafening noise of the totem crashing to the ground. The portal winked out of existence, and as suddenly as it had appeared, this area of the seventh floor was now secured.


    His wristband vibrated almost violently, practically shaking his arm with its insistence that he check it immediately. Knowing who was contacting him, Mathew raised his wrist to project the words in the air in front of him.


    The god of Righteous Subjugation is pleased with your actions. New Blessings have been made available to you in the Shop.


    Ever since the Outer Deity had begun to influence and corrupt the players of the Seventh Floor directly, the Tower god had taken to doing a similar thing. The god of Righteous Subjugation no longer waited until Mathew or the other Council members checked the ¡®Judgement¡¯ tab. It wanted Mathew to know its thoughts immediately.


    Limited to only the high-level players, or those specifically selected for their skills or temperament to be on the Council, Mathew was unsure if the god was also in contact with the leaders of other groups across the Floor, but he could only assume it was.


    The god made new items and Blessings available to the players to counteract those the Outer Diety had placed in the shop while also taking a more active role in leading the resistance against the Fiends. The god of Righteous Subjugation provided this portal''s location through one of their ¡®Diviners,¡¯ while additional rewards were offered to ¡®incentivize¡¯ them to close it.


    ¡°What did it say?¡± Greg asked, coming up to him. His friend was wielding a long-barreled rifle in his hands. His Discipline of ¡®Champion¡¯ had been the only one available, like every other person stuck on this floor.


    But his Blessings aligned with long-range attacks, and the obscene amount of Aether he had earned over the last nine months meant that he could afford the best available in the shop and the levels to boost his stats.


    However, the rewards on the seventh floor came with the risk of being here. Of those that he had arrived here with, most of them would never leave. Dead, missing or turned to join the Fiends, the casualties were absurdly high.


    A quarter of the players never made it past their first week, while another half were killed within the first month.  And those that made it to a year were so rare that everyone knew their names. They had become something of a myth, legendary figures seldom seen, and stories were told about their accomplishments.


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    Eloise the Chaser led a group of players against a flight of Fiendish Birds that were carrying away her sister. When she found their ¡®nest,¡¯ it was she who had slain the Alpha and closed the Portal tied to it.


    Baxter the Ferocious. His elevator had deposited him in the middle of a field of dead players and the Fiends that were feeding on them. When a party of players found him a day later, he was the only one left alive, covered in blood and using the severed limb of a Fiend for a weapon.


    There were dozens more, each with a story to their name that inspired equal amounts of hope and fear amongst the players. Several of them were part of the Council that ran the city, now called ¡®Ruin,¡¯ that held nearly a million people. And the man standing in front of Greg was one of them.


    Mathew of Manhattan didn¡¯t have a grandiose mythos being created about him like many of the others. His story was one of survival, of always being amongst the living after an attack. He was also known for having no tolerance for those who turned to the Outer Deity.


    ¡®Reliable¡¯ would be one of the best terms to describe him.¡¯ Greg had said to a few others who had gathered for drinks in one of the ruined buildings they had fixed to serve as an alehouse and tavern.


    It was ¡®Reliable¡¯ Mathew of Manhattan that the council, on behalf of the god of Righteous Subjugation, had chosen to lead this expedition outside the city to close a portal.


    He had accomplished the task swiftly and had relatively few losses. ¡®Relatively¡¯ meaning that they had lost less than a quarter of their forces while facing Fiends that equalled their own numbers in quantity. It was usually the best they could hope for.


    ¡°They¡¯re pleased with us.¡± Mathew said simply, lowering his arm. He relayed the scant information the god had delivered, leaving Greg to scoff.


    ¡°At least they could tell us how this war is going or if there is an end in sight.¡± Greg muttered, and Mathew patted his friend on the shoulder in commiseration.


    ¡°If they aren¡¯t saying anything about it, it¡¯s probably because it¡¯s not going well.¡± Mathew whispered, and Greg grimaced at the comment. Mathew didn¡¯t hold back or sugarcoat things when talking to his friend. The past year had been brutal, and it had shaped him as such.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s head back.¡± Mathew said, already walking past the shattered obsidian spire that had once powered the Portal. The thousands of survivors observed him, the feeling of the ¡®Buzz¡¯ making it seem like he was a predator, walking amongst prey.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Status.¡± Mathew said, sitting down on a small wooden stool that he had purchased from the shop a while ago. His room was bare, with only a desk, the stool he was sitting on, and a single bed. His house was a combination of a ruin that he had spent some time clearing and a tent.


    He had stretched a large piece of canvas across two pillars and a pile of rocks to form a roof, while the floor stone that he had tried to scour clean but still had dust between the cracks. It had been his home for the last six months, at least when he was still in ¡®Ruin.¡¯


    His status appeared, and Mathew took a moment to assess his gains from the last year.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Champion (Level 11)


    Trickster (Level 5)


    Coward (Level 5)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 26


    Aether Required for Next Level: 325,000


    Aether: 57,000


    Attributes


    Body: 4.3


    Mind: 5.1


    Spirit: 1.4


    Blessings


    Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand (Max Tier)


    Catapult (Max Tier)


    Truthsayer (Unique Ability)


    Mystic Bolt (Max Tier)


    Pass Without Trace (Max Tier)


    Blur (Max Tier)


    Items of Importance


    Wyvern Scale Jacket (Increased resistance to Piercing/Slashing/Fire)


    Scarf of the Wanderer (Protection from hazardous atmospheres.)


    Knife of Soaring (Item can be ¡®Catapulted¡¯ from the hand as if it were not carried.)


    Mathew had picked up a few new Blessings that had proven to be useful during his time here.


    ¡®Pass Without Trace¡¯ let him avoid detection when he was trying to sneak around groups of Fiends, allowing him to blend with shadows better at night, and its passive ability prevented him from leaving any tracks as he walked or ran, even across mud or sand.


    ¡®Blur¡¯ was a Blessing that blurred his form when activated, confusing even the Fiends. There had been several times when Mathew had thought that a Fiend would strike him without a doubt, only for their aim to be slightly off because of ¡®Blur.¡¯ At Max Tier, the mana consumption was relatively low, allowing him to use it nearly constantly on the battlefield.


    His Magical items had cost him a veritable fortune in Aether, but Samuel had been right. At the end of the day, Aether was nothing compared to the value of a good item. If he was going to be forced to fight this endless war, he was going to do whatever he could to survive it.


    Mathew had spent the last year fighting to survive on the Seventh Floor and still couldn¡¯t see any sign of progress.


    How long was he going to have to be here? How many more people would he have to watch die?

 Chapter 69 – Floor 7: Part 9

    <u>Chapter 69</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 9


    ¡°You¡¯re sure it was him?¡± Mathew asked, looking at the group standing in front of him.


    They were in the Council building of ¡®Ruin,¡¯ the city Mathew and millions of others had occupied and used as their base for the past two years. The war with the Fiends raged violently, with casualties on both sides in the tens of millions.


    The lines of battle twisted and turned sometimes the Players would push back the Fiends for hundreds of miles and close every Portal along the way. Other times, a new group would emerge and decimate the humans, forcing them to adjust their plans.


    ¡®Ruin¡¯ would occasionally be at the forefront of these battles, depending on the proximity of the portals. Other times, they would be far removed, with Mathew and many other players heading out for months on a campaign to assist another group against the Fiends.


    But Mathew would always return, and every time he did so, the city would be filled with new faces and new meat for the grinder.


    The Council had met at first light. A messenger had come from another city across the ¡®Barren Sea¡¯ to their east, where a great ocean had once been before this world succumbed to the destruction of the Outer Deity. Mathew had spent a month crossing it in the past, linking up with another large group of players on the other side.


    This courier from across the ¡®Sea¡¯ had brought a surprising message for the Council. Along with two dozen others, they had only arrived moments ago. Their group was bloodied and exhausted; the trek had been merciless, and Mathew understood what they had gone through. Travelling such a distance on the Seventh Floor was no easy task.


    ¡°We¡¯re positive. Hundreds have recognized him from the previous floors, even if the Outer Deity¡¯s manipulations have altered him.¡± The messenger said, an older man wearing heavy metal armour that had a shimmer of mana around it. He had a sword belted at his waist and a large shield strapped to his back.


    ¡°They chanted his name and title for everyone to hear.¡± Another added, this time a young woman wearing a black robe and holding a staff topped by a large ruby. Magical items were becoming more commonplace amongst the players, at least in those who survived on the Seventh Floor.


    Or if a player was lucky enough to scavenge such an item from amongst the dead.


    ¡°He¡¯s become one of the Apostles of the Outer Deity. I saw what happened to a group that fell into his hands. They sacrificed them for Aether and left a trail of heads for us to follow to find their bodies.¡± The older messenger added, shaking his head in disgust.


    An Apostle, the Chosen representative of a god. Mathew didn¡¯t know much about them. To his knowledge, Samuel would be the only one aside from the god of Games who had appeared on Earth on a television screen that Mathew had ever heard of.


    He knew they symbolized their god''s ideals, their physical manifestation in the Tower or the world. Imbued by power directly sourced from their patron Deity, they were the only ones who could directly influence events on their worldly plane.


    In return for more power, a person would give up most of their freedom, desires, and intentions for the future. Mathew doubted he would ever choose to willingly enter into the service of a single god, no matter how much their ideals matched his own.


    ¡°Samuel must be stopped; every day he lives, the momentum shifts against us.¡± Eloise replied, looking at her fellow council members. She had been elderly and sick when she had entered the Tower, but anyone observing her would think she was in her early twenties, at the prime of her life.


    ¡°There is more to it than that. An Apostle is a direct link to their god. Their loss would be devastating to their patron. Righteous Subjugation would gain an insurmountable advantage on this floor with Samuel¡¯s death.¡± An Oracle explained, his white robes bore the symbol of the council on the front.


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    Baxter scoffed at the comment. The large man was barechested, his muscles on display for everyone to see. After arriving on this floor, he had exclusive upgraded his ¡®Body¡¯ stat until he had been forced to take the'' Champion'' Discipline.


    Mathew had seen him punch through a Fiend with his closed fist while using another as a club. Baxter deserved the fearsome reputation he had earned amongst the players.


    ¡°Samuel was unstoppable even before joining the Outer Deity. With the stat boost from ¡®Adherent,¡¯ I can¡¯t imagine what kind of monster he has become.¡± Baxter clarified, his words casting a pall on the gathered crowd.


    ¡°Then we will fight him together, with an army at our backs.¡± Another Council member stated. Although he hadn¡¯t received a ¡®Title¡¯ like some of the others, he had earned his place on the Council with them through months of fighting.


    ¡°Useless. An army will only provide him fodder to advance his levels even more.¡± Baxter replied, shaking his head at the notion.


    ¡°Then we will face him with a small group. Only the best amongst us, only the strongest.¡± Mathew stated, his voice cutting through the chatter. He wasn¡¯t the strongest here or at the highest level, but his reputation made them listen.


    Mathew had survived where others had not, often unscathed or only mildly wounded. Even Mathew wasn''t entirely sure whether it was luck or skill, but it made others take notice and heed what he said.


    ¡°You will lead?¡± Baxter asked, surprised that Mathew would offer to join the fighting. The young man was a survivor, and even though he completed any task given to him, he was cautious. Confronting an Apostle like Samuel was no easy feat.


    Even outnumbered, the Apostle likely would be on even footing with dozens of their best.


    Mathew shook his head at the question. He was one of the longest-serving council members, so it was natural for Baxter to assume the role of leader would be Mathews.


    ¡°Eloise will lead. I will be her second.¡± Mathew responded. He wasn¡¯t the best at tactics, especially with such a disparate group as theirs. Better that Eloise commanded them. She was a natural leader and had experience leading high-level parties against the Fiends in the past.


    ¡°You will need more than a few dozen people, no matter how skilled or high level. Samuel had an army with him when he attacked us.¡± The messenger stated, causing the Council to frown.


    ¡°Where is he?¡± Baxter asked the Oracle, who closed his eyes for a moment as he communed with the god of Righteous Subjugation. The answer would be vague at best. The god was limited in how much information it could provide, especially when it came to an Apostle of the Outer Deity.


    ¡°Somewhere north of the Barren Sea. A fortress made of black rock. I could see nothing more.¡± The Oracle responded.


    ¡°Then we take an army of our own. They will distract the Fiends while we face Samuel.¡± Baxter replied, and Eloise nodded at the words.


    ¡°Very well. This could mean the end of the stalemate, a decisive blow against the Outer Deity. The Council will eliminate Samuel, but who will lead the army north?¡± Eloise asked, looking at her fellow council members for suggestions. The council would be busy preparing to fight Samuel, so they could not be responsible for the army.


    ¡°Greg will do it.¡± Mathew replied immediately, the answer obvious. His friend was trustworthy and wouldn¡¯t break under pressure. More importantly, he wasn¡¯t one to seek glory. Greg would follow orders and only engage the Fiends enough to isolate Samuel, drawing out his forces.


    ¡°Good. Then it¡¯s settled. Will you be joining us?¡± Eloise asked the group of messengers that had crossed the Barren Sea. They were high levelled players and would be a welcome addition to their numbers. The older man didn¡¯t even hesitate.


    ¡°You lead, we will follow.¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The army kicked up a cloud of dust as they left the city. A long trail of men and women trekked through a trail between the rocks that sloped to the Sea bed. Mathew had been here before, making it all the way to the other side when he was a scout several years before.


    No matter how far they marched, there wouldn¡¯t be a single sign of water. The Seventh Floor was dead, and even Mathew had no idea why they were fighting to protect it.


    ¡°He¡¯s going to know we¡¯re coming. There¡¯s no way to hide that.¡± Greg said, gesturing to the army in front of them. They were standing on a rocky outcrop that overlooked the city and the leaving army. With millions of people, it would take hours before they had all left ¡®Ruin,¡¯ giving Mathew time to simply observe them.


    ¡°I know. He wants us to come north.¡± Mathew admitted.


    ¡°Then we¡¯re walking into a trap.¡± Greg responded, and Mathew merely shrugged at the answer. He was exhausted, a weariness that was beyond physical or mental. It was in his soul, his spirit. Mathew wanted to be off of this floor. He needed to be off of this floor.


    He still searched the faces of the living and the dead for Emily. But his nightmares had shifted to finding her amongst his enemies, having sold her soul to the Outer Deity in return for her wish. Mathew shuddered at the thought and drew his jacket tighter around him.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Mathew had spent years on the Seventh Floor, and finally, the end was in sight.

 Chapter 70 – Floor 7: Part 10

    <u>Chapter 70</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 10


    Samuel¡¯s fortress was built into a cliff.


    Mathew could imagine that it had once been a structure of security and safety before this world had ended, overlooking the sea around it while housing a garrison of troops. Or perhaps it had already been abandoned long before the Fiends arrived here, snuffing out all life on the Seventh Floor like a burnt-out candle.


    Whatever its purpose had been in the past, it now served as a secure point for Samuel and his army of Fiends. Supported by tens of thousands of players who had switched sides to join the Outer Deity and an aura of mana that spoke of powerful magical defences, Mathew studied it carefully from a distant ridge while the army arrayed beneath him for the initial assault.


    He could find no weakness in the stone, no side gate that they could penetrate its defences unseen. There would be no incursion into the structure by just the high-level players, a quick and sure knife strike against the heart of their enemy.


    No, it would be a drawn-out and protracted battle, one where they would need to bait Samuel and his followers outside of the protection of their walls. To do so, they were going to make the cost of Samuel and the other''s hesitation to take the field so high they would either do so or risk losing every Fiend here.


    Mathew and the Council were going to be in reserve, watching for a chance to strike at Samuel. Once the man was dead, the Outer Deity would be dealt a blow that the god of Righteous Subjugation could capitalize on.


    Hopefully, it would be enough to end this war.


    ¡®Or we could all die here.¡¯ Mathew thought to himself.


    It was a gamble. The Fiends were infesting the land surrounding the fortress, their numbers in the millions. Judging from what he was seeing from where he stood, the numbers were in the player''s advantage. Combined with better tactics and Blessings, the Fiends were going to lose here.


    But Mathew had learned that fortunes had a way of turning abruptly on the Seventh Floor. He recalled how he had nearly died to the sudden opening of a portal in the middle of a battlefield. The Fiend''s reinforcements had cut down thousands before they had managed to seal it again.


    The Fiends were devious and unpredictable, and when you combined that with Samuel¡¯s knowledge and the skills of those who followed him¡­


    Mathew shook the thoughts away.


    He looked up at the red morning sun as it just began to climb over the horizon. It was better to fight during the day. It gave them a slight edge against the Fiends, who always seemed to be slightly weaker in the daylight.


    Every bit helped.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± Eloise asked, and Mathew nodded. He adjusted the knife at his belt; the magical weapon combined perfectly with ¡®Catapult.¡¯ He could use his Blessing on it despite it being held and recall it to his hand with a single command.


    His black jacket, reaching down to his thighs, shimmered in the light. The magical enchantments had saved his life numerous times before. Hopefully, he wouldn¡¯t rely on it again today. His scarf filtered the air, driving away the dust and the foul smell of Fiends that wafted from across the battlefield.


    ¡°Ready.¡± Mathew responded, and the leader of their company nodded in response.


    ¡°Remember, we wait until Samuel is spotted. Even if his supporters leave the castle and start causing havoc, we don¡¯t tip our hand until we have that bastard in our sights!¡± Eloise called out to the two dozen men and women who were going to be vital in killing the Apostle of the Outer Deity.


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    ¡°We know, Eloise. You¡¯re repeating yourself.¡± Baxter commented, and Eloise flashed him a disgruntled look that he merely shrugged off. Whatever other words that may have been about to be said between them were cut off by the screaming of millions of Fiends as they began to charge across the barren field between them and the army of players.


    Led by hundreds of the traitorous players that had joined the Outer Deity, the Fiends were still as disorganized as ever. They moved as a swarm rather than in ranks, each acting independently of the other in their haste to kill.


    But there was a hint of guidance and unity that Mathew hadn¡¯t seen before the Outer Deity enticed people to join its cause. They were frenzied, but they were like rabid animals pointed in a single direction rather than an unthinking mass.


    The players responded with a volley of cannon fire, explosions from long-range Blessings and flights of arrows. The terrain sloped to form a slight depression in the middle of the two armies. Greg and the other commanders had positioned their troops expertly, taking advantage of the difference in height that would allow an increased range for their attacks.


    Before the Fiends could even reach them, thousands were caught in the deadly assault. Although they were immune to fire, the flames were secondary to the concussive blasts that ripped through them from the carefully crafted explosives of the Forgers.


    Arrows pincushioned Fiends or hampered their movements enough that they were crushed by others pushing from behind in their rush to reach the enemy. Blessings of Lightning, radiant energy or a hundred other effects swept through their ranks, killing indiscriminately.


    The slaughter continued for minutes, and the ground was soaked with black Fiend blood. Mathew watched with a horrid fascination,  the nausea he felt at the violence dampened by the knowledge that for every Fiend that fell, it was one less that those below would have to face.


    Even after years of slaughter, of untold violence conducted by both sides, Mathew wasn¡¯t completely numb to it. He likened it to the last shred of humanity within him. If he could watch what was happening below without feeling anything at all, he thought it would mean that he was irreparably damaged in some way.


    ¡°That¡¯s new.¡± Baxter commented, pointing at a section of the sky to their left. A flock of birds was approaching swiftly. In the lead, dozens of larger ¡®Alpha¡¯ variants of the Flying Fiends were carrying hundreds of the blade-armed Fiends on their backs.


    They began to dive swiftly toward the ranks of players below, the howling-bladed monster leaping from above to fall onto the waiting players beneath. The air was filled with screaming as the attack coincided with the arrival of the rushing swarm of Fiends.


    A terrible melee began, and Mathew had to grip the rocky outcrop beside him to keep from jumping in to help. He had a cautious nature, but no one amongst the players could watch others fighting and not feel the urge to join. It was instinctual, a need to fight.


    Mathew could smell Aether; the spicey mist rising from the ground was intoxicating, and even if he didn¡¯t participate, he could feel it seeping into his skin. Whoever won the battle today would have enough Aether to purchase whatever they wanted. Additional levels, magical items or Blessings were all possible if they could survive the day.


    The battle continued for hours, with the Fiends hurling themselves at the players without rest. They showed no signs of fear or terror at dying, no signs of exhaustion or retreat. The ground was muddy with blood, the corpses piled high enough that they acted as barricades to the line of players that retreated slightly to make use of them.


    Against an enemy like the Fiends, only stability, tactics and strategy could overcome their relentless desire to kill. Greg and the other army commanders cycled their troops to have periods of rest, using the terrain and flanking maneuvers.


    At one point, when an area of the line appeared to be buckling, they ordered a retreat. Hidden explosives ripped through the Fiends when they advanced, allowing the players to retake the lost territory without much trouble.


    When the sun was beginning to sink on the horizon, the horde of Fiends finally showed signs of failing. The gates to the fortress opened.


    Thousands of humans who had once been their comrades emerged with weapons drawn and surrounded by a dark aura. At their head was Samuel.


    He had changed since Mathew had last seen him. Wearing black armour, he wielded his magical mace in his right hand, and the demonic face on the front was opened in a silent scream.


    Mathew felt the ¡®Buzz¡¯ immediately, something that had been absent from him for months. The level difference between himself and the Apostle was apparent. It felt like a crushing weight on him. A nervous tension flooded his body, and Mathew¡¯s limbs shivered in a primal, involuntary terror.


    The Apostle of the Outer Deity had arrived. Their plan to draw him from his fortress had worked.

 Chapter 71 – Floor 7: Part 11

    <u>Chapter 71</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 11


    Mathew had expected Samuel¡¯s power to be overwhelming. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ had warned him of the fact before he had ever engaged in direct combat with him. The Council had expected it when they made their plans and gathered dozens of the highest-level players amongst them to fight.


    Even with all their planning, they underestimated how monstrously powerful the man had become.


    Samuel would send a half dozen men and women flying through the air with every swing of his mace. He was tireless. The weapon he held, which a regular player would need two hands to wield, was swung casually with one.


    No attack could penetrate his black armour that covered him from head to toe. What little skin was visible on his face was greyish and inhuman. The Outer Deity¡¯s influence had changed him into something unrecognizable.


    It wasn¡¯t only his physical abilities that caused destruction among the players.


    He obliterated bodies with a touch of his hand, the corrosive mana inside him flooding his victims with enough energy that they would pop like a balloon, swelling grotesquely before disappearing into a bloody mist.


    Samuel had an aura about him, one of darkness and heaviness that had wholly replaced the halo of light that Mathew had once associated with him. It made people flinch when he approached, slowing their movements slightly and causing them to hesitate.


    But the worst of his new abilities came from his voice.


    ¡°Die!¡± Samuel shouted, pointing at a man in the distance who was gathering mana for a Blessing. He clutched his chest suddenly and let out a scream before falling to the ground dead.


    ¡°Flee!¡± The Apostle spoke. A group of players tried to run away from the black armoured figure, only to be cut down by the Fiends supporting him. With every command that Samuel bellowed, those weaker players who tried to stand against him succumbed to his words.


    In the few short minutes it took Mathew and the high-level players to reach the front and face Samuel, he had killed hundreds and disrupted the battle lines. With each step Mathew took toward his former friend, the ¡®Buzz¡¯ grew more intense.


    Mathew¡¯s limbs shook, and his hands had a tremor so severe that he wasn¡¯t sure if he could grip the knife at his belt. His mouth was dry, but he was sweating beneath his jacket. His heart pounded in his chest, and the world around him narrowed until it felt like he was in a tunnel with only himself and Samuel.


    The fight between them started with Baxter leaping into the air. Propelled by superhuman strength, he sailed over the heads of players and Fiend alike. The impact of his landing cleared a space, destroying a swath of Fiends that were too close to avoid it.


    The battlefield seemed to halt, the humans understanding that the fight between the high-level players and Samuel would determine the outcome of the conflict. The Fiends seemed to either instinctually feel the same or perhaps were influenced by Samuel. Mathew saw them back away for the first time, retreating like a tide and watching their leader intently.


    The space around them was muddy, and Mathew¡¯s boots sunk into the ground nearly to his ankle. Even with his enhanced strength, it would hinder his movements. With ample room to maneuver from Baxter¡¯s landing, they spread out and formed a semi-circle around Samuel and his closest allies.


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    ¡°Daolithin, the Outer Deity of Hushed Solitude, offers you this chance to live. Join us, become ¡®Adherents¡¯ to its cause, and you will be spared.¡± Samuel spoke, his voice a whisper that easily carried across the entire battlefield. It had a strange tone, a vibration that Mathew could feel in his body as the Apostle spoke.


    The Outer Deity of Hushed Solitude. It was the first time that Mathew had heard its title. He was familiar with the god''s name; the Adherents he had fought in the past all learned it on their acceptance of the Discipline.


    If the Outer Deity had now earned itself a title in the Tower of Avarice, did that mean it was close to overpowering Righteous Subjugation? The affairs of the gods were beyond Mathew¡¯s knowledge; he wasn¡¯t even aware of what existed ¡®outside¡¯ of the Tower, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of unease at this new revelation.


    ¡°Your Deity can shove off, Samuel.¡± Baster replied, cracking his knuckles.


    He was covered in mud from his landing, with flecks of black and red blood already running down his bare chest from where it had splattered onto him. The gore enhanced the image of ferocity about the man, giving him a wild and brutal appearance.


    ¡°Blasphemy is the last gasp of the helpless dying. You will all be witness to my god¡¯s supremacy.¡± Samuel replied, and Baxter scoffed loudly.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be witness to your death, traitor.¡± Baxter responded, and Eloise placed her hand gently on the large man¡¯s arm to keep him from running forward. Eloise had a whip in her right hand, its long length spiked and barbed. Lines of red energy streaked down from its handle, revealing its magical nature.


    ¡°Hold, Baxter. Follow the plan. Speaking to him is pointless. He¡¯s nothing but a hollow shell compared to the man we knew.¡± Eloise stated, shaking her head sadly.


    There was a history between Samuel and Eloise that Mathew wasn¡¯t knowledgeable of the details. They had known each other on the lower floors. Her arrival to the Seventh had been shortly before Samuel¡¯s defection to the Outer Deity. She hadn¡¯t come to ¡®Ruin¡¯ until Mathew had returned from scouting the Barren Sea.


    ¡°There is a place here for you, Eloise. By my side, you will learn the truth. About the Tower, the gods. Everything.¡± Samuel said, his voice echoing off the cliffs behind him while still seeming to be a whisper in Mathew¡¯s ears.


    ¡°You know I will never do that, Samuel. What happened to you? You were so filled with conviction and endless compassion.¡± Eloise replied.


    ¡°I am who I always was. Who I was always meant to be.¡± Samuel replied, and Eloise was forced to look away from him in grief. Samuel¡¯s gaze moved across the gathered players before landing on Mathew.


    ¡°Mathew. I have been told that they gave you a title. Reliable. Survivor. You, of all people, should know better than to fight against me.¡± Samuel said, and Mathew felt a twinge of grief in his chest. He swiftly crushed it. Eloise was right; the man in front of him was no longer the person he had once known.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine where I am, Samuel. I know that whatever happens, I made the right decision.¡± Mathew replied, and Samuel stared at him for a moment in silence as if contemplating what he had said.


    ¡°That is because you are living in ignorance. If you were aware of what Righteous Subjugation says about you, you would no longer be willing to lay down your life for them. I am privy to the thoughts of the false god, and they are no more divine than the mud beneath our feet.¡± Samuel revealed.


    ¡°Coward. Trickster. Charlatan. There is a reason these Disciplines were offered to you. The gods of the Tower believe that they suit you best. That they understand your true nature. They are wrong, Mathew. Come with me, and I will bestow upon you the power to make your every wish come true.¡± Samuel said as he held out a hand to Mathew as if to guide him.


    Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°My wish is that you stop this. Can you make that wish a reality, Samuel? Can you renounce your new title so that we can all leave here alive and move onto the next floor?¡± Mathew asked, already knowing the answer.


    ¡°It is a pity, Mathew, that you claim to possess the ability to discern the truth, yet you refuse to listen. If that is the case, I will make you understand.¡± Samuel said, and the aura of darkness around him grew thicker.


    The wind began to howl, and the oppressive feeling of heaviness that weighed down on Mathew¡¯s shoulders made his knees buckle. His own mana surged through his body, a small stabilizing force against the tempest that was Samuel¡¯s power.


    ¡°I can discern the truth of things, Apostle.¡± Mathew spat out the title with contempt. ¡°And the truth is you¡¯re going to die here.¡±


    No more words were spoken after that exchange, and no bargain was struck to avoid the inevitable. A shockwave of force drove back human and Fiend alike when Mathew and the others clashed with the Apostle.

 Chapter 72 – Floor 7: Part 12

    <u>Chapter 72</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 12


    The adrenaline surged through Mathew¡¯s body, causing the flow of time to slow for him. Everything around him became as clear as crystal, his eyes could trace every small movement of both his allies and Samuel.


    The battle started with Baxter sprinting forward, like a hound released from its leash, now that all civility and talk of surrender had been exhausted. Every step he took sent a spray of mud in every direction. With his right arm already drawn back in preparation for a blow, Baxter was the first to strike at the Apostle Samuel.


    The air whistled from the passing of his fist, and even though Mathew was dozens of feet away from him, he could feel the force behind it as it moved. With a loud ¡®crack,¡¯ it struck Samuel on the chestplate of his armour.


    Mathew thought it would bend or break, that the blow would push Samuel backwards or that the man would have some kind of reaction to the attack. Instead, Samuel was unmoved. The power of Baxter¡¯s fist dissipated behind the Apostle, sending a screen of mud and dirt flying through the air behind him.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­impossible.¡± Baxter said in disbelief. He had used one of his Blessings to enhance his strength, a surge of power using his body¡¯s mana to make his fist as strong as iron. He could punch through rocks, dent steel, or instantly kill a fiend.


    Yet, with all of his strength, he couldn¡¯t hurt Samuel?


    ¡°Through faith, all things are possible.¡± Samuel¡¯s voice rumbled, his face still obscured by his black steel helmet. As soon as he was finished speaking, he struck Baxter in the side of the head with his gauntleted hand.


    It was almost comically how Baxter seemed to ¡®fold¡¯ around the blow. He flew through the air and landed heavily in the muck. His momentum carried him nearly a dozen more feet before he stopped in front of the others.


    Through the mud and dirt, they could see that Baxter was bleeding heavily from a gash on his forehead while his cheekbone was shattered and deformed. He lay there in a daze for a moment before his eyes hardened, and he roared.


    Ignoring his injuries and the pain they brought him, Baxter regained his feet and howled like a man possessed with madness and rage. His skin was flushed red, and his muscles bulged obscenely, with veins clearly visible through the filth that covered him.


    ¡°Berserker¡¯s rage!¡± Baxter shouted. A reddish aura surrounded him only inches from his body as his skin darkened, turning stonelike. He sank deeper into the mud, his body weight increasing as his body transformed from the Blessing he was now using.


    While Baxter was changing, Eloise snapped her whip. The weapon grew fiery tendrils that waved in the air as they grew longer. Splitting into seven separate lengths, each began to shift and change as the fire covering them turned into various colours.


    ¡®Whip of the Seven Sins.¡¯ Mathew thought, watching it carefully. Eloise had spent most of the Aether she had accumulated over a year in the weapon in her hands. Forgoing levels and Blessings, she was determined to own it as soon as she saw it in the Shop.


    Costing millions of Aether, no one else had been willing to buy it. But after seeing it in action, Mathew regretted not trying to grab it for himself.


    It embodied the mythical ¡®seven sins,¡¯ and Mathew wasn¡¯t sure of all of its abilities. It seemed to possess a mind of its own, striking and moving with a purpose despite Eloise not swinging her arm.


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    ¡°Sin of Wrath!¡± Eloise commanded, and Mathew didn¡¯t know if she did it for her ally''s benefit to alert them of her attack or if the verbal order was required to activate the ability. The flaming whip changed colour, becoming a uniform bright vermillion. It began to writhe, stretching out eagerly toward Samuel.


    She snapped her whip again and sent the seven lengths of whip shooting toward the Apostle. They twisted and turned in the air, their movement so erratic that Mathew could barely keep up with them. The whip sounded like the wails of the dying, and they reached Samuel in an instant.


    ¡°Corpse Shroud.¡± Samuel muttered, making no movement to stop the whip. Time worked¡­oddly, around the Apostle. The whip moved faster than thought, but Mathew could clearly hear Samuel speak the words of whatever Blessing he was about to use calmly and in an even tone.


    Before the Whip could strike him, corpses began to climb upwards from beneath the mud. These shadowy figures of the deceased were immaterial, their bodies translucent. They clung to Samuel¡¯s legs, grasping at his body to haul themselves further. They lacked legs, merely torsos, arms and heads.


    When the whip struck these poor wretches, they shrieked in pain and terror. Mathew could hear them begging in his mind, asking for release, for the agony to stop. It filled him with a dread and terror that he couldn¡¯t ignore. The trembling in his legs grew worse.


    The vermillion flames transferred from the whip to the dead, sweeping over their translucent bodies but leaving Samuel untouched. The look of agony faded from their faces, replaced by peace as they disappeared.


    The flames extinguished, and the whip fell to the ground. Samuel waved his hand to dismiss the remaining spirits of the dead once the threat from the magical item had ended.


    ¡°It is useless to resist, Eloise. Although even I can be injured by your weapon, I will never allow the flames of your wrath to reach me.¡± Samuel said.


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll just have to try something else.¡± Eloise responded, flicking the handle of her whip to recall it.


    ¡°My turn!¡± Baxter shouted. His body had grown, reaching over nine feet in height and adding hundreds of pounds of mass to his frame. The ground shook with his every step as he charged forward, his actions covered by the movement of the whip.


    The giant reached Samuel in moments, and once again, Baxter threw out a simple, right-handed punch. Unlike before, the Apostle reacted to the attack. He held up his hand. The black gauntleted palm seemed tiny compared to the monstrous size Baxter had achieved.


    Mathew watched, along with all the other high-level players, as the attack was stopped cold. Samuel¡¯s feet were pressed deeply into the ground from the impact, the mud nearly reaching his knees before finding stable ground. But the Apostle was unfazed.


    Baxter roared in anger. His rage fueled his transformation to even greater heights. He grew even larger, and his muscles protruded through his now stonelike skin. He lashed out with his other hand, and Samuel stopped that one as well.


    The Apostle gripped both of Baxter¡¯s large fists in his hands, slowly squeezing as the giant pushed against him with every ounce of strength his transformation gave him. The ground rumbled from their fight, and large cracks appeared in the rock behind Sameul, a testament to the forces being unleashed.


    ¡°You are weak, Baxter the Ferocious. Your anger is no match for piety.¡± Samuel scoffed at the title. He slowly extended his arms while gripping Baxter¡¯s hands tightly. Without warning, he jerked his arms outwards suddenly. With a loud ¡®pop,¡¯ Baxter¡¯s massive limbs were ripped free of their sockets.


    The giant screamed in pain and stumbled backwards. Blood covered the muddy ground from the wounds, and Baxter teetered for a moment before falling and laying still. The crowd was silent in shock at what they had just witnessed. Even the Fiends were cowed by the display of strength, lowering their heads in fear that Samuel would take notice of them.


    ¡°Mathew! Heal Baxter!¡± Eloise screamed, turning to Mathew momentarily before striking with her whip again.


    ¡°Sin of Gluttony!¡± She shouted, and the flames covering the seven lengths of her whip shifted to orange as they shot toward Samuel.


    Mathew didn¡¯t hesitate. Digging into the small satchel at his waist that held his healing potions, Mathew sprinted across the space between Baxter and himself while the noise of Eloise and Samuel''s battle began. Soon, others joined in, and the Apostle was being bombarded with attacks.


    Ignoring everything, he knelt by Baxter¡¯s side and pulled out several of the glass vials. The man had shrunk back to his original size; his skin was pale, and he was shivering. Mathew could only attribute the man¡¯s continued survival to his ¡®Body¡¯ stat.


    Popping the cork on the first, Mathew poured it into his companion''s mouth. Not waiting for him to swallow, he was already pouring another on Baxter¡¯s right shoulder when Mathew felt him shudder, gasp and fall still.


    The Apostle had killed the first of Mathew¡¯s companions.

 Chapter 73 – Floor 7: Part 13

    <u>Chapter 73</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 13


    Mathew was unsure if Samuel was still human when the battle began. His physical strength was leagues ahead of anyone else; his mana reserves were so deep that he could fire off Blessing after Blessing with barely a pause, stringing a variety of abilities together in unique and terrifying ways.


    He had lost track of the number of Blessings the Apostle could use. After nearly an hour of fighting, Mathew hadn¡¯t seen him repeat a single one. Samuel seemed to have a counter no matter what they threw at him.


    A shield to stop physical attacks, a barrier that would absorb or redirect magic, or summons that he would allow to die at his feet.


    But as the conflict wore on, even Samuel couldn¡¯t endure the onslaught from dozens of high-level players.


    It started small, a slight pause before a shield went into place, a minor stumble of fatigue that caused Samuel¡¯s foot to sink a little deeper into the muck. A blow to one of Mathew¡¯s comrades that would have felled them at the beginning but now left the player injured but alive.


    There were casualties. Mathew watched Samuel crush bodies beneath his mace, explode his comrades with obscene Blessings or obliterate them where they stood through magic. By the time the battle was coming to its inevitable conclusion, only Mathew, Eloise and several others were left alive.


    Mathew¡¯s survival in this fight could be attributed to his varied Blessings. He kept his distance from the Apostle, hurling bolts of energy and summoning fire to shroud his form or block Samuel¡¯s vision. Mathew left no tracks, even in the mud, allowing him a freedom of movement that couldn¡¯t be matched.


    Better than that, his form ¡®blurred¡¯ and sometimes merged with the shadows. Combined with never slowing or stopping at all, often, Samuel¡¯s attacks struck an afterimage, the real Mathew a few feet away.


    The few times he was hit, it was almost accidental on the Apostle''s part. Wide-range attacks that even Mathew couldn¡¯t avoid ravaged his body, leaving him battered and bloody.


    Mathew wiped away the blood from his eyes, allowing him to see once more. A shard of broken metal from one of the many shattered weapons had struck him in the forehead, leaving a gash that a healing elixir hadn¡¯t had the time to stop yet.


    He was tired, his mana running on empty. He was no longer a blur, and the shadows didn¡¯t cling to his body as they once did. Worse than the wound on his head was his left arm hanging limp at his side. One of the wide-range attacks had sent him flying into the air to crash against a rock. His enhanced body demolished the rock but at the cost of shattering the bones in his arm.


    Beside him, Eloise was panting heavily. She was unhurt; one of the abilities of the whip in her hands was the ¡®Sin of Gluttony¡¯ to rob the vitality of the wounds she hit with it. Mathew had watched a half dozen Fiends drain in an instant, becoming nothing but husks of skin and bone as the injured woman regained her health.


    But the vitality was only physical, and the whip required not only mana but her ¡®Spirit¡¯ as well. It was a double-edged sword; the disadvantages of such a powerful weapon meant that prolonged use of the magical item was taxing.


    The flames flickered on the whip, nearly extinguished along with her mana. The few others who survived amongst them were in a similar state: tired and injured, but they fought on, and there was hope in their eyes when they saw Samuel in front of them.


    The Apostle had once inspired that feeling just by being who he was, the strongest and best amongst them. Now, he brought that same feeling to them by virtue of the damage his body showed. They took solace in the fact that Samuel was faltering like a candle flickering in the wind, no matter how many fell or how their bodies were wounded.


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    The Apostle of the Outer Deity¡¯s armour was cracked and broken, with pieces missing. His helmet was split in half, his eyes visible to Mathew and the others. Samuel looked tired and in pain, the first time since he took the ¡®Adherent¡¯ Discipline that he had ever felt that way.


    His mace was covered in gore and mud, the demonic figure on the front obscured. He lacked the mana to use its special abilities anymore, and as his strength flagged, he was forced to wield it with two hands. Its steadying presence on the ground was the only thing keeping him upright.


    The other ¡®Adherents¡¯ were gone, killed in the fighting by Mathew¡¯s group and the remains of the army surrounding them. Even if Samuel was to live this day, they had still dealt a blow to him that the Outer Deity would need time to recover from.


    If Mathew and his companions failed, he was sure that there would be someone else to take up their cause. The problem was all the Aether Samuel had gained from the deaths surrounding him. If he were to escape to his fortress and was given time to recover, he would come back stronger than ever.


    ¡°I¡¯m impressed, Mathew. You¡¯ve gotten stronger. I was worried when I left that you would never stay alive here without me.¡± Samuel said, his voice quieter now that he had weakened. No longer the rumble that shook the earth, it was a whisper on the wind.


    ¡°Thank you for your concern, Samuel, but I¡¯ve been doing fine long before I met you.¡± Mathew replied, and Samuel nodded slowly.


    ¡°Mathew the Enduring.¡± Samuel titled him, granting him a new name right there on the battlefield. The Apostle turned to Eloise.


    ¡°I remember when we first met. You were as old as I was, protecting your sister against the worst the Tower could throw at you. Eloise, you are an angel. It is a pity that things must end now. I would have loved to continue through the Tower with you. We could have stood side by side at the end as gods.¡±


    ¡°We can still do that, Samuel. Renounce the Outer Deity and return to our side.¡± Eloise begged, her voice cracking as she said his name. For a moment, Samuel seemed to hesitate, and his resolve wavered. Mathew watched silently, hoping that the man finally saw sense.


    Even after everything he had done, Mathew could still forgive him, just because it would mean the end of this floor. Samuel could live, and they could all move on.


    But Samuel disappointed him once more. His eyes hardened, and the aura of darkness returned. He hefted his mace onto his shoulder, the weight making him sink deeper into the mud. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ pounded in Mathew¡¯s head, alerting him of the impending combat and the difference in power between them.


    Eloise seemed to crumble. The faint hope that she had gained was mercilessly extinguished. Mathew could hear the hand she held the whip in crack as she tightened her grip on her whip. Her sorrow shifted to anger before a strange sort of calm settled over her face.


    ¡°Step back, Mathew. I will be the one to finish this.¡± Eloise said, and Mathew looked at her in surprise. Samuel had fought over two dozen of them to a standstill. He may have been injured, but he had also managed to kill most of their group.


    How did Eloise expect to stop him by herself when she could barely stand?


    She snapped her whip, and the flickering flames shifted to white and roared to life once again.


    ¡°The Sin of Pride.¡± She stated. The flames grew stronger, obscuring the whip with their radiance. As the magical weapon grew more powerful, Eloise herself began to weaken. She dropped to one knee, and Mathew could see that she aged before his eyes.


    Her hair grew white, and new wrinkles appeared around her eyes and mouth. Each second seemed to be the passing of years to Eloise until an old woman had replaced her.


    ¡°Ahh, your true age! You would give away the Tower¡¯s blessing of youth for this foolishness?!¡± Samuel roared, taking a step toward the old woman.


    ¡°Foolishness? I¡¯ve done everything I could to allow my sister the chance to achieve her wish. I¡¯d sacrifice all that I am for her!¡± Eloise responded, snapping the whip once again.


    The tendrils flew toward Samuel and wrapped around his limbs. The Apostle struggled to remove them, twisting his arms furiously, but there seemed to be a power greater than his own inside the weapon.


    ¡°It¡¯s no use, Samuel. To be prideful is to place oneself on the same level as the gods. It¡¯s a sin that will mean my death but will allow me to call on a strength far greater than yours. You will not escape; there will be no salvation for either of us.¡± Eloise said. She drew in a deep breath, preparing herself for what came next.


    ¡°Pride cometh before the fall.¡± Eloise whispered. A surge of power swept over her and through the whip in her hands. The white flames flared brighter, and Samuel¡¯s scream shook the world around them.

 Chapter 74 – Floor 7: Part 14

    <u>Chapter 74</u> ¨C Floor 7: Part 14


    Eloise was dead.


    Her body lay on the muddy ground behind Mathew, mummified by the whip that drained all of her vitality as fuel for an attack capable of harming an Apostle. Her sister knelt at her side, mourning quietly for her loss as several of the other survivors amongst the high-level players were gathering the remains of the dead for burial.


    But Mathew ignored them all. He didn¡¯t mourn for Eloise or any of the others that fell. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to feel anything for any of them anymore. He was numb, beyond caring. This floor had changed him, making him into someone alien to his past.


    He couldn¡¯t remember much about his life outside the Tower. Even with his Mind stat giving him crystal clear clarity of his time in the Tower, everything outside was like a dream. And like every dream, the memory faded quickly upon waking.


    Mathew had flashes of his old life. He recalled his parents, brief images of their time together. But it often felt like he was someone else, watching these memories of another¡¯s life.


    But he could never forget Emily. At least she stayed with him, driving him forward to see her again.


    A moan came from the body at his feet, and Mathew¡¯s mind returned to the task at hand.


    Eloise hadn¡¯t killed Samuel; even giving her life hadn¡¯t been enough to eliminate the Apostle of the Outer Deity. That task had fallen to Mathew.


    Mathew the Enduring. The Reliable. The Survivor. He had come through another battle alive, where so many others had not. After Eloise attacked, Samuel had been off balance and weak enough for Mathew to strike the man directly with multiple bolts of energy from his Blessing.


    It had been his knife that killed him, driven into Samuel¡¯s heart. But even that took its time, and Mathew could only watch as the Apostle slowly died.


    Samuel lay on the ground, his armour cracked and broken. His mace was nowhere in sight, having been flung away by Eloise. The breath rattled in his lungs; the aura of darkness that had surrounded him constantly since leaving the Fortress had faded. If it hadn¡¯t been for his high body stat, Mathew knew the man would have died long before.


    As it was, he had very little time left.


    ¡°Mathew. I¡¯m glad it was you.¡± Samuel whispered. The anger and hatred had faded from his eyes, leaving regret and sorrow. Whatever madness the Outer Deity had corrupted him had left, leaving only the man Mathew had known.


    Mathew didn¡¯t respond. Instead, he gripped the knife that had killed the apostle. Could the old Mathew have killed someone before entering the Tower? What would ¡®Mathew of Manhattan¡¯ have done in this situation?


    ¡°It had been so clear to me. A way to achieve my wish.¡± Samuel murmured, breaking off the words with a harsh cough. Mathew sighed. He placed his knife in the sheathe at his belt and knelt beside his friend. The third floor seemed so long ago. Samuel had been an arrogant prick, too self-righteous for Mathew to enjoy being around.


    But he could respect him. Samuel saved their lives during the fight against the Goblins and led the players on the Seventh Floor for the first few months. Mathew owed him¡­something.


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    Maybe listening to his last words would be enough.


    ¡°What was your wish, Samuel?¡± Mathew asked quietly. The giant of a man had never said why he entered the Tower, only that he had been ancient when he had done so. Mathew assumed he did it to regain his youth, a similar reason to many people.


    ¡°I wanted to see her again. My wife¡­it¡¯s funny. I can¡¯t even remember her name anymore. Or what she looked like. The Tower took that from me. It gave me my youth but stole my memories. The Outer Deity promised to return them to me, but that was another lie. They are all liars, Mathew. Remember that.¡± Samuel murmured.


    His last breath exhaled at the end of his words, the Apostle died. His eyes lost their inner light, and Mathew could sense Samuel¡¯s soul departing his body. It was off to wherever the Tower¡¯s dead went. Sparkles of white light glittered in the crimson sun before disappearing.


    ¡°Maybe you will finally see her again, my friend.¡± Mathew whispered. Using his right hand, blood-covered and trembling, he closed Samuel¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°It¡¯s done then?¡± Greg asked, coming up from behind him. The battle with the fiends was finished, the monsters were put down and ended. None of them retreated. They never did. The army was now within the fortress, securing it for the next stage of the advancement.


    The war wasn¡¯t over, not yet. The Outer Deity had suffered a loss with its Apostle''s death, but it wasn¡¯t one that would cripple it forever. There was still an entire planet to be cleared of Fiends, with countless portals.


    But that would come later.


    ¡°It¡¯s done.¡± Mathew said, standing upright and wiping his bloody hand on his jacket. The magic in the item kept it clean, one of the only things on his body that wasn¡¯t muddy or coated in blood.


    ¡°Good. Now we can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.¡± Greg stated, coming up beside his friend and gazing down at the body of the Apostle.


    ¡°We paid enough for it. How were our losses amongst the army?¡± Mathew asked, and regretted it when he saw Greg wince.


    ¡°Bad. We¡¯re still searching amongst the dead for survivors, but I estimate more than half won¡¯t be returning to ¡®Ruin¡¯ with us.¡± Greg stated, and Mathew was about to respond when his wristband vibrated. A message from Righteous Subjugation had come through, and Mathew read it quickly.


    ¡°None of us will be going back. Righteous Subjugation is pleased and wants us to keep pushing forward. Half a dozen portals support more Fiends to the north.¡± Mathew explained the message, pausing for a moment at the end.


    ¡°Huh.¡± He said before holding out his right hand. Samuel¡¯s Mace materialized in his grasp. Now Spotless clean, Mathew watched the demonic face on the weapon shift and twist as he recalled the message from Righteous Subjugation.


    The god of Righteous Subjugation is incredibly pleased with your actions. As a reward, the Mace of Ruin, once owned by the Apostle of the Outer Deity, has been gifted to you and blessed by the Tower gods. It has been cleaned of taint and may be used freely on all future floors.


    The mace, which always unnerved Mathew, changed. Its black metal turned silver, and the face morphed into a clenched fist, the symbol of Righteous Subjugation. It was light in Mathew¡¯s hand; he could raise it easily, but he knew that to anyone else, it would be too much of a burden to carry.


    The Mace of Subjugation


    Gifted to Mathew the Enduring as a reward for the defeat of the Apostle of the Outer Deity, this weapon uses the power of the god of Righteous Subjugation to eradicate all foes.


    Magical Enchantments:  Increased Durability, Enhanced owner¡¯s body stat by 3. Mana can be used to increase the force of all blows.


    Owner: Mathew Larson. It may never be gifted to another or sold.


    Mathew read the burning words that appeared above it before placing the mace in his inventory. It was a good weapon, but he rarely fought up close. Worse, he couldn¡¯t give it away or sell it! Maybe he would find a use for it someday.


    ¡°Come on.¡± Mathew said to Greg, leading him away from Samuel¡¯s body.


    They had work to do. First, the Fortress would need to be cleared of any remaining Fiends and the army seen to. The wounded needed care, and scouts had to be sent out to survey the area. Mathew had to plan the next assault on the closest Portal.


    Mathew spent the next two years amongst the army, clearing portals and destroying any Fiends they found before he finally heard a noise that he had longed for.


    Ding!


    ¡°Congratulations! The 7<sup>th</sup> floor has been cleared!¡±

 Chapter 75 – Floor 8: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 75</u> ¨C Floor 8: Part 1


    The Margrave of Belinger was at his wit¡¯s end.


    He was pacing in his hall. The tapestries depicting the triumphs of his ancestors covered the stone walls while guards stood at attention at every entrance. His pale face and bald head were covered in sweat, and he would periodically wipe them away with a white cloth.


    His noble clothing, made of the finest materials and threaded in gold, showed dark patches where the sweat had soaked through.


    The guards had been watching the man for hours, his muttering and occasional moan of despair breaking up the sound of his endless footsteps. It would have been comical if not for the knowledge of what caused the man¡¯s distress.


    Their most Holy Emperor had been poisoned.


    Worse, it had happened on territory overseen by the Margrave. The only thing that had saved him from a hangman¡¯s noose had been the fact that it had happened on the road, hundreds of miles away from where the Margrave had been staying.


    The Holy Emperor had been passing through on his way to the Empire''s western frontier, when he came down with a sudden illness. Surrounded by nobles from across the Empire and his beloved Empress, they had found traces of poison in his wine.


    As the lord of these territories and one of the only nobles not present at the time, it had fallen on the Margrave to find the culprit, less the blame fall entirely on himself. The nobles had agreed to this condition, and the Holy Empress herself had expressed her faith in him.


    But after two days of questioning and investigation, the Margrave had found nothing. No evidence remained. No servants had revealed hidden instructions, nor had any nobles confessed to the crime.


    He was stumped.


    As a last, desperate act, he had prayed to the goddess of Truth and Reconciliation for her divine assistance. To his surprise and relief, she had answered.


    A Champion will arrive with the ability to parse truth from lie.


    That had been over a day ago, and he had heard nothing else. Hence, the source of his pacing and muttering. He could delay no longer. The Empress demanded a name or his own confession if he could not produce one.


    ¡°Oh goddess, why have thou forsaken me! I, your most devout and humble servant, beseech you! Please, deliver unto me this Champion!¡± The Margrave suddenly shouted, kneeling on the ground and bowing his head in supplication.


    His prayers were answered.


    A loud ¡®Ding¡¯ rang out throughout the stone room, and a pillar of light rose from the ground. Shielding his eyes, the Margrave shouted in surprise while the guards drew swords or gripped their spears in preparation for an assault.


    The light faded, and in its place stood a man.


    ¡®Young.¡¯ The Margrave thought. It was the first thing he noticed about this stranger. He looked to have seen only twenty winters or so. He was as handsome as a demigod, wearing a strange jacket that reached his thighs and a red scarf that obscured his neck.


    The young man had a knife belted on his hip but was otherwise unarmed.


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    His blue eyes wandered around the room, immediately looking for threats. They paused on the guards, assessing them for a moment before dismissing them from his concern.


    The Margrave was reminded of the Emperor¡¯s general, a tough man who had seen multiple wars. He had a similar expression as the young man in front of him, someone who had seen battle and death countless times.


    Something was unnerving about him, a heaviness that settled about the room and emanated from the young man. It was like the room froze. Nothing could move unless he allowed it.


    The Margrave swallowed, a difficult act due to a sudden lump in his throat and a dryness in his mouth.


    ¡°W¡­welcome. Are you the promised Champion of the Goddess of Truth and Reconciliation?¡± The Margrave asked, only to be completely ignored as the young man raised his right wrist and stared at a silver bracelet for a moment.


    He seemed to be reading something unseen, his eyes moving back and forth across invisible words, only to lower his arm once more.


    ¡°Yes.¡± The Champion replied, and the Margrave let out a breath that he didn¡¯t realize he was holding in. Relief flooded him at the thought of another taking over this burden from him.


    ¡°Praise the god-¡± The Margrave was about to launch into another prayer when the Champion cut him off.


    ¡°Your Emperor was poisoned? I¡¯ll need to speak to everyone involved.¡± The Champion said.


    ¡°But first..¡± The Champion¡¯s eyes locked onto the Margraves, pinning him into place. Nothing existed except for those blue orbs. The Champion¡¯s voice took on a strange tone like it was echoing from a great distance but also surrounding him from all sides.


    ¡°Did you poison the Emperor?¡± The Champion said. The words were like a dagger piercing his mind. The Margrave had no thought of lying or desire to dither.


    ¡°No. Of course not.¡± The Margrave replied instantly. The Champion nodded at the words, and the Margrave was released from whatever force bound him.


    ¡°Good. You¡¯re telling the truth.¡± The Champion stated, sure of the fact in some strange, unknown way. The Margrave didn¡¯t even question his abilities. He was sent by the goddess, after all. Of course, he would be able to know the truth of all things.


    ¡°Th-thank you.¡± The Margrave stammered, but the Champion was already moving. Not pausing for a moment, the young man walked past the guards and out the door toward where the Emperor was resting, guarded by the Empress.


    ¡°Wait!¡± The Margrave shouted, giving chase.


    The young man seemed to know where to go, following the turns of the hallway and up a set of stone stairs to a large bedroom that belonged to the Margrave but had been given to the Emperor for his recuperation.


    At the door, a pair of guards were standing with halberds upright, preventing all entry when the Champion arrived.


    Not slowing, the young man made a strange motion with his hand. Holding it upright with the palm facing the guards, he spoke.


    ¡°Halt Movement.¡± The Champion commanded, and the guards stiffened. Their eyes widened in surprise before even that small action ceased. The Margrave stared in awe at the display while the young man opened the door and left him in his wake.


    Tentatively, the Margrave prodded the frozen men. They felt like statues. Some strange force had turned them as unmoving as stone. He was just about to leave them to follow the Champion when they suddenly relaxed.


    ¡°You will stay here. The Champion of the Goddess commands it.¡± The Margrave ordered, even though they were the Emperor¡¯s men, the pair nodded and listened. He left them, rushing through the door to another scene of chaos.


    The Empress was standing by her husband¡¯s bed, her finger raised and pointing at the young man who was in the process of pulling the cork from a glass vial.


    ¡°What are you doing? Answer me! Guards! Guards!¡± The Empress shouted, only to look relieved when the Margrave entered instead.


    ¡°Peace, Your Grace. This is the Goddess¡¯ Champion. He is here to find the truth of the Emperor¡¯s plight. But¡­what are you doing?!¡± The Margrave asked as the young man took a brightly glowing green potion and proceeded to force open the Emperor¡¯s mouth and pour the liquid inside.


    ¡°Relax, it¡¯s just an antidote.¡± The Champion replied. The Emperor coughed violently, bolting upright and spraying black liquid onto the white bedcovers.


    ¡°Gah! What foulness!¡± The Emperor exclaimed, and the Margrave marvelled at the change in his appearance. His pasty white skin was flushed and healthy. The Emperor seemed to be restored in mere moments.


    The Emperor looked around, confused at his sudden plight. He met the Margrave¡¯s eyes, then those of his wife, before focusing on the strange young man beside him.


    ¡°Who are you? What have you done to me?¡± The Emperor demanded an answer, and the Margrave winced. From everything he had seen about this young man, he didn¡¯t seem to care about titles or status.


    ¡°I¡¯m Mathew. The goddess of Truth and Reconciliation has sent me to help you. You¡¯re welcome. Now, do you know who poisoned you?¡±

 Chapter 76 – Floor 8: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 76</u> ¨C Floor 8: Part 2


    ¡°No. I don¡¯t.¡± The Emperor responded.


    The Margrave had never seen him so compliant. He stared transfixed at the young man who had been sent to them by the gods. There was a strength about him, an unstoppable force that pushed through all obstacles.


    The Margrave was in awe of Mathew. But the curtness of the young man spoke of his disdain for mundanity. He eschewed all etiquette, ignoring title or status and acted like everything was beneath him.


    Perhaps it was.


    ¡°Another truth. You should rest. The potion was an antidote, but it won¡¯t heal any damage done to you. Besides, I don¡¯t want you getting in the way.¡± The last part was muttered quietly, and only the Margrave heard it clearly when the Champion had stood and walked past him.


    The Champion, Mathew, turned to look at the Empress. His blue eyes bore into hers for a moment before he asked a similar question.


    ¡°Do you know who poisoned him?¡± He asked, and the Empress seemed unsure of herself for the first time since the Margrave had known her. She delayed her response, and her eyes flicked to her husband and the Margrave before returning to Mathews.


    ¡°This is ridiculous! Of course, I don¡¯t know who poisoned my husband. It is your job to find that out, Margrave Belinger.¡± She scolded, her face flushing red with anger as she drew herself up and set her shoulders.


    Rather than grow equally angry at her response or question her again, the young man paused and narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°That¡¯s a lie.¡± Mathew said, and the room grew quiet and still.


    The Emperor, who had been listening from his bed, was about to speak when the Margrave caught his eyes and shook his head slightly in warning. It may not have been appropriate for him to do so; the Emperor was far above him in station, but the Margrave felt compelled to warn him from confronting the Champion.


    He had seen what the young man was capable of.


    ¡°How dare you! I will have you flog-¡± The Empress couldn¡¯t continue speaking as the young man pointed his finger at her, and a crackling bolt of white light streaked out and burned a hole through the stone wall beside her.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like liars. I treat those who lie to me in the same way I do betrayers. And I¡¯ve had enough betrayals in my life.¡± Mathew warned in a whisper that cut through the bone.


    ¡°I¡¯ll ask you again. Who poisoned him?¡± Mathew repeated, and this time, the Empress observed his finger as he slowly pointed it directly at her forehead. So stunned and terrified were they at the display that neither the Margrave nor the Emperor thought of summoning the guards.


    Against a man such as this, what hope would they be? The Margrave had seen him command men to halt all motion, and they obeyed. This Champion had powers beyond their comprehension. If he wanted the Empress dead, the Margrave doubted anyone in the Empire could stop him.


    The beautiful woman, normally as calm and perfect as a frozen lake in winter, paled and stammered. Her mouth opened and closed, reminding the Margrave of a fish. After a few moments of attempting to speak, she finally made a sound.


    ¡°I received a missive, along with gifts from an anonymous source. A secret admirer. I was flattered and kept most of them for myself.¡± The Empress admitted. Her husband¡¯s eyes opened wide, and he shouted.


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    ¡°The wine! You claimed that it was a gift for me, a foreign vintage to celebrate our anniversary! You lying wench!¡± The Emperor yelled. He was cut off by a fit of coughing. Mathew didn¡¯t look at him, keeping his eyes locked to the Empresses. Her fingers dug into the folds of her dress nervously.


    ¡°I¡­lied. I knew you would never recognize jewelry or dresses from amongst the gifts, but the wine I passed on to you.¡± The Empress finished.


    ¡°Who is this admirer? Did you discover their identity?¡± Mathew pressed, and the Empress shook her head quickly.


    ¡°No! No, they have sent me many letters over the past year, each more loving than the last and always accompanied by a gift. I¡­never questioned their intentions. They said we would meet when the time was right, a secret tryst when we arrived at our destination. It was the reason I looked forward to this trip.¡± The Empress explained, and the Emperor paled at the revelation.


    It was no easy thing to learn of a wife¡¯s intention of infidelity.


    ¡°You¡¯re telling the truth.¡± Mathew confirmed. He lowered his hand that could generate that terrible, deathly energy and turned to the Margrave.


    ¡°The culprit is likely amongst their group. Come.¡± The Champion ordered. Before he was even finished speaking, Mathew had nearly reached the door. The Margrave gave a quick bow to the Emperor and Empress before following quickly behind.


    He didn¡¯t want to stay there any longer, not when the Emperor was clearly about to have words with his wife.


    They arrived at the hall where the nobles and their retainers were currently gathered. There was a pall over those assembled. The knowledge that the Emperor lay dying above them had drained the energy from the room. Aside from a few muttered and whispered conversations, the hall was silent.


    Those gathered were unaware that a Champion of the gods had arrived, so when a young man burst into the hall with the Margrave hot on his heels, they were momentarily confused. That confusion turned to annoyance and rage when he spoke.


    The Champion scanned his eyes across the room, resting at times on the various Nobles or high-ranking members of the Emperor¡¯s retinue as if marking them. His strange clothing set him apart, his appearance that of a stranger to them.


    But the timidity and care the Margrave showed him confused the crowd the most. He seemed to be on pins and needles, showing signs of anxiety that he would typically reserve only for the Emperor.


    ¡°You! Did you poison the Emperor?¡± The champion said, pointing his finger at an older, opulently dressed Noble who sat at one of the more prominent chairs near the front of the room. At the shout, the man stood and flushed red at being addressed in such a manner.


    ¡°How dare you speak to me like that, knave! I will have your skin stripped from your body.¡± The man shouted, and a number of guards behind him were already drawing swords or knives from sheaths.


    ¡°That is the Duke of Carinthia. The Emperor¡¯s younger brother, Champion.¡± The Margrave advised.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care who he is; he will answer my question.¡± Mathew replied, his voice cutting through the din. He flicked his finger, launching all the objects on the table in front of the Duke to the side. They crashed against the stone wall with a deafening clatter.


    The crowd grew silent at the display of magic, something as foreign to them as the Champion himself.  But he wasn¡¯t done just yet.


    Mathew flicked his finger again, and this time, the chairs in front of him shot into the air. One after another, they struck the ground and shattered, and the Duke had a start with each time the noise rang out.


    Finally, the table itself spun around, pushing the assembled guards backward and leaving a clear path from Mathew to the Duke. The Champion¡¯s boots rang out with each step he took toward him, finally stopping a few feet from the other man.


    ¡°I can do worse than have your skin stripped from your body. And I won¡¯t need help doing it. Now, answer my question. Did you poison the Emperor?¡± Mathew asked, his voice as hard and cold as steel in winter.


    The Duke was as scared as the Empress had been. The weight of the Champion¡¯s power pressed down on them, and his presence filled the room like nothing they had experienced before.


    ¡°I¡­No, I didn¡¯t poison him.¡± The Duke whispered, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. Mathew stared at him for a moment longer before turning away.


    ¡®The Duke was telling the truth.¡¯ The Margrave thought, letting out a breath of relief. The thought of the Emperor¡¯s own brother writing love letters to the Empress and trying to murder the Emperor would have torn the Empire apart.


    The questioning continued smoothly; the otherworldly aura of the Champion cowed the crowd. It helped that the remnants of his display were strewn all across the ground around them.


    It took them only a few minutes to discover the truth.

 Chapter 77 – Floor 8: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 77</u> ¨C Floor 8: Part 3


    The Margrave saw no sense of strain on the Champion¡¯s face as he lifted a reticent-to-speak member of the Emperor¡¯s retinue into the air by the front of his jacket and tossed them across the room.


    After it had been revealed that the Champion could discern truth from lies by some ability gifted to him by the gods, no one had been willing to speak a single word around him. The young man had only asked once the same question he had delivered to the Empress and Duke before acting violently.


    ¡®What prodigious strength!¡¯ The Margrave thought.


    The talents of the Champion were astounding. His ability to call forth destructive energies from the tip of his finger, move objects at a distance without touching them, and now his superhuman strength, each revelation put the Champion further from the limits of mortal men.


    The Margrave couldn¡¯t help but admire and fear the young man in front of him.


    This thought ran through his mind when the young man tossed the Baron he was holding in his grasp across the room. The opulently dressed noble wore a look of shock and disbelief as he arced above the Margrave¡¯s head and landed heavily onto a padded chair, knocking the furniture over but softening the impact.


    The Baron lay there, stunned by the events that had transpired. The Margrave looked around the room, expecting the guards to defend their noble, but not a single person moved. The Margrave wasn''t sure whether it was some power of the Champion that held them in place, or the terror of him.


    Mathew turned and began to approach the Baron slowly. He held out his right hand calmly, and the Margrave¡¯s attention was drawn to it. The Champion made a grasping motion as if he were taking hold of something invisible and heavy.


    He slowly drew his arm back, and in his hand was a weapon of terrifying proportions.


    It was a mace. The head was shaped like a clenched fist at the end of a length of bright steel that caught the light. The Margrave could feel the weight of it as it moved ponderously with each step the Champion took. He knew that he would never have been able to lift it, let alone in one hand and as easily as the young man in front of him.


    Each step the Champion took toward the downed Baron seemed to shake the room, and a feeling of oppressiveness pervaded everything. It was at this point, his face as hard and cold as iron in winter, that the young man spoke.


    The Margrave wished he had remained silent, for the Champion¡¯s words brought no comfort to him.


    ¡°I have spent half a decade in hell, battling against enemies the likes of which you cannot imagine. I have seen so much death that I could build mountain ranges out of the corpses of the fallen. I have seen a world destroyed; the very air I breathed was dead, and the only water to be found came from within our bodies.¡± Mathew stated, his voice soft but carried easily to all present. They could feel a chill in their bones, a building terror and the Margrave swore that if he closed his eyes, he would be able to see images of what the Champion spoke of.


    He didn¡¯t dare to blink in fear of those sights.


    ¡°They called me the ¡®Enduring.¡¯ The ¡®Survivor.¡¯ The ¡®Reliable.¡¯ Most of those who named me are dead now. But I lived through that torment, persisted, and now I am here. I will not accept any lies.¡± Mathew finished, hefting his mace up onto his shoulder. The weapon made a loud ¡®swoosh¡¯ noise as it did so, alerting everyone to the weight of it.


    ¡°So, I will ask you again for a final time. Did you poison the Emperor? If you lie to me or refuse to speak, I will do worse than toss you around.¡± Mathew promised. He punctuated his statement by slamming the mace onto the floor.


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    The head of the weapon shattered the stones. The ground quaked, and cracks appeared across the length of the room. For a moment, the Margrave thought the entire chamber would collapse from the destruction.


    Thankfully, it stopped after a moment. The Champion lifted the mace again, and the Margrave saw the impression of the mace¡¯s ¡®fist¡¯ in the stone. He could easily imagine what would happen to a human body.


    ¡°I¡­I¡­I did not have anything to do with the Emperor¡¯s poisoning.¡± The Baron stammered, and the Margrave wrinkled his nose in disgust at the growing wet stain on the noble¡¯s pants where he had soiled himself.


    ¡°Truth. You!¡± Mathew said, turning and pointing at another with the head of his mace. This noble paled before shaking his head.


    ¡°No! I don¡¯t know anything!¡± The man shouted, and Mathew nodded his head. One after another, the nobles present denied their involvement. That was until they reached a young man. A foppish youth, he was in his early twenties and dressed extravagantly in the finest silks with gold embroidery.


    He stood at the back of the room with a glass of wine. He had a smirk on his face while he watched the Champion¡¯s questioning. When it was finally his turn, he broke out into a grin.


    ¡°You, did you have anything to do with the Emperor¡¯s poisoning?¡± Mathew asked. If the smiling youth¡¯s attitude threw him off, he didn¡¯t show it.


    The Margrave stepped forward, speaking softly to Mathew to inform him of the foppish young man¡¯s identity.


    ¡°Prince Barristan, Champion. He is the Emperor¡¯s son by a favoured concubine, I¡­ do not know if the Emperor will be pleased with you questioning him. He has often been¡­.protective of him.¡± The Margrave admitted, causing Mathew to pause for a moment.


    ¡°Of course he is.¡± Mathew muttered, already knowing who the culprit was. It was like a bad story: the favoured son protected his entire life and poisons his father for some slight or mundane reason. Possibly because he was in love with the Empress?


    ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter.¡¯ Mathew thought.


    ¡°Answer the question.¡± Mathew stated, lowering his mace until it rested at his feet. The Margrave nervously shuffled back to where he had been standing. The Champion didn¡¯t seem impressed by the Prince''s identity, nor did he care that the Emperor would not like his questioning.


    Considering how the Champion had treated the Emperor only minutes before, it wasn''t surprising.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t believe I will.¡± Barristan replied glibly, holding out his glass for a nearby servant to refill. The woman, wearing a uniform that bore the Imperial seal on the front, nervously poured his wine from a pitcher as she shot glances at the Champion. She was as terrified as everyone else of what Mathew could do.


    ¡°Fine, I warned you. If you¡¯re dead and guilty, that should solve everything for me anyway.¡± Mathew said as he raised his mace once more to throw it. The Margrave ran forward to intervene, raising his hands protectively in front of him. He stood between the Prince and the Champion.


    ¡°Wait! You cannot kill the Prince! This is not what the goddess of Truth and Reconciliation would want!¡± The Margrave pleaded. The Champion stared at him for a long moment; the silence stretched until the Margrave was completely covered in sweat. He expected to be killed at any moment when Mathew let out a sigh.


    ¡°You people certainly don¡¯t want to make it easy on me. Fine!¡± Mathew murmured in exasperation.


    ¡°I have your word, sworn on the goddess, that you won¡¯t kill him?¡± The Margrave asked with surprise. He hadn¡¯t expected this bloodthirsty monster to respond to reason. The Champion struggled for a moment, a mix of emotions on his face before he nodded.


    ¡°Very well. I swear on the goddess of Truth and Reconciliation that I won¡¯t kill Prince Barristan. There, happy?¡± Mathew said, resting his mace on the ground once more and gripping it with only one hand while he raised his other to swear his oath.


    The Margrave let out a breath of relief.


    ¡°Thank you. I¡¯m sure the Emperor will get to the bottom of his son¡¯s involvement when he has recovered. For now, let us continue the questioning. There are still many servants and guards that we can interrogate.¡± The Margrave explained, to which Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°No need. The Prince is guilty; I just need to get a confession, and I can be on my way.¡± Mathew said, matter of factly. His mace disappeared in a flash of light, returning to wherever it had come from instantly. He pulled out a knife from his belt.


    ¡°Wait! You promised not to hurt him!¡± The Margrave shouted. Before he could finish his sentence, the knife flew from the Champion¡¯s hand and hurtled toward the Prince at breathtaking speed. It slammed into his shoulder, spinning the young Prince around and throwing him to the floor as he screamed in agony.


    ¡°I promised not to kill him. Trust me, he¡¯ll survive, and I¡¯ll get the confession I need to complete the goddesses¡¯ task. It¡¯s a win-win for everyone.¡± Mathew commented as he walked toward the downed Prince.

 Chapter 78 – Floor 8: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 78</u> ¨C Floor 8: Part 4


    Mathew leaned back in the chair, letting out a breath of relief from finally being able to relax.


    He had been on the Eighth floor for a few days now, a sort of ¡®vacation¡¯ since he had discovered who had poisoned the Emperor. It had naturally been his son, some sort of grab for power and a twisted love for his stepmother.


    Mathew hadn¡¯t asked too many questions after the Prince started screaming his confession in return for the removal of the knife from his body.


    In return, Mathew had completed the Floor and received a nice bonus of Aether. Along with the reward came a month¡¯s stay with the Margrave. It was optional; Mathew could have left at any time by entering the returned elevator, but he needed a break.


    The Seventh floor was still haunting him; a month of relaxation would take some of the edge off. It was a blessing, in a way, that the goddess of Truth and Reconciliation had requested him personally.


    He hadn¡¯t been offered a choice in the Elevator, unlike what had happened before the Seventh Floor. Either the Tower knew he would not reject the offer because it matched his personality, or he would accept it for its rewards.


    Sinking deeper into the cushion of his chair, Mathew closed his eyes and thought about how different things were here. It was peaceful, even with a castle full of nobles terrified of him. It was nothing compared to where he had come from.


    ¡°Status.¡± Mathew muttered, opening his eyes to look at the screen hovering above his wrist.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: None


    Champion (Level 15)


    Trickster (Level 5)


    Coward (Level 5)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 30


    Aether Required for Next Level: 435,000


    Aether: 565


    Attributes


    Body: 4.7


    Mind: 5.5


    Spirit: 1.8


    Blessings


    Create and Control Flames + (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand + (Max Tier)


    Catapult + (Max Tier)


    Truthsayer + (Unique Ability)


    Mystic Bolt + (Max Tier)


    Pass Without Trace + (Max Tier)


    Blur + (Max Tier)


    Halt Movement + (Max Tier)


    Items of Importance


    Wyvern Scale Jacket (Increased resistance to Piercing/Slashing/Fire)


    Scarf of the Wanderer (Protection from hazardous atmospheres.)


    Knife of Soaring (Item can be ¡®Catapulted¡¯ from the hand as if it were not carried.)


    Mace of Subjugation (Bonus to Body, damage can be increased by using mana.)


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    He had gained so much from the previous floor but reached a point where the ¡®Champion¡¯ Discipline could no longer be raised. Whatever ¡®cap¡¯ that had been placed on it in the past had returned, forcing him to select a new one when he was ready.


    Mathew let out another sigh of contentment as he felt the warmth from the crackling fire sink into his bones. Maybe it was just psychological; his body stat was high enough that he could endure the coldest winter without too much harm, but he thought the chill from that dead world and its endless biting winds lingered inside him.


    He had received something else besides Aether from completing the Seventh Floor. When the ¡®Ding¡¯ rang out like sweet music from the heavens, Mathew nearly wept from relief for finally being free of that hell. Even better, he had obtained a bonus.


    All of his existing Blessings had been improved beyond their standard capacity. It had cost him a fortune in Aether to purchase; he had obtained the opportunity to increase them, but it hadn¡¯t been for free.


    Millions of Aether had been funnelled into his Blessings, but it had been worth it.


    Each of the little ¡®+¡¯ signs next to them represented a lifting of certain restrictions. Catapult could now affect larger objects and multiple items at once, his control flames were bigger and hotter, the Coward¡¯s Brand was more durable.


    The most useful thing for the eighth floor had been Truthsayer¡¯s improvement. He could now ¡®compel¡¯ someone to speak the truth, although in some cases, it required a little bit of prodding. The Prince¡¯s confession hadn¡¯t been completely due to the pain.


    Mathew groaned as he climbed back onto his feet. Not from pain or physical; the Level-up he had before arriving here had taken care of that. No, this was more from laziness or perhaps an unwillingness to leave the comfort of his chair.


    But he still had some things to take care of.


    Burning on the walls were rows of letters, corresponding with large paintings the Tower of Avarice had projected for him to decide his next Discipline. Unlike the previous floors, there were only two options to choose from. Mathew had been in this room, staring at them undecidedly, for hours.


    Both had their benefits, and they were quite appealing in many ways. But they came with downsides that left Mathew indecisive.


    The first painting depicted Mathew standing in front of a large crowd. A fire raged behind him, and he had a row of people in chains kneeling in a row beside him. He seemed to be giving a speech, gesturing to the prisoners as if condemning them for some crime. He was wearing long, black robes, and in his hand was his mace, raised to strike.


    It had left Mathew unsettled to see himself depicted like that. So savage yet self-righteous. He had dismissed it outright, until he saw the summary and the benefits it gave. It was hard to argue with power, not after he had experienced the Seventh Floor.


    The Old Mathew wouldn¡¯t have thought that way. Then again, the old Mathew wouldn¡¯t have survived what his future self had endured.


    Discipline: Righteous Inquisitor


    Rarity: Extremely Rare


    Attributes per Level: Spirit +++, Mind +


    Summary: Your actions have drawn the attention of the god of Righteous Subjugation. They have allowed you to choose this Discipline under their Demesne. You seek the truth, demand it, and burn away the lies that try to obscure it from your vision.


    The world is full of evil, and it is your solemn duty to conquer it, to cleanse it in the flames of righteousness. You will take the first step towards becoming an Apostle of a god.


    Unique Blessings: Aura of the Righteous


    You cloak yourself in a shroud of power, an aura of righteousness that symbolizes your pursuit of the truth. Anything that does not conform to your belief, to your morality, will fall before you.


    Your enemy¡¯s attacks will miss, their eyes too blinded by lies to see the truth. Their spells will falter, and their arrows will fall short. They will speak to lie in your presence lest the words burn their tongues.


    Details: An aura surrounds you at all times, hindering your opponents while strengthening you and your allies. As you gain levels, the aura will grow in power.


    Mathew had been hesitant even before he had seen that the Discipline was the first step toward becoming an Apostle. After that, he knew it wasn¡¯t for him. He had no intention of becoming like Samuel, a pawn for a deity to use as they saw fit.


    But the power given by the Aura was tempting. Still, it wasn¡¯t worth the hassle. Casting it from his mind, he had looked toward the next.


    The second was of Mathew in a hooded black robe. His face was shadowed, and he was walking toward a terrified crowd with his hand raised as if to grab them. The people were running from him, and a halo of darkness seemed to hang over him.


    Discipline: Villain


    Rarity: Very Rare


    Attributes per Level: Body ++, Mind+, Spirit +


    Summary: The ends justify the means. The shortest path to what you desire is always the correct one. These are the beliefs that define you. You have been through hell to achieve your goal, and that experience has left a stain on you that can not be easily cleansed.


    Discard morality, embrace self-interest. Be beholden to no man or god.


    Unique Blessings: Fear


    You become terror itself to those weaker than you. Your visage, voice and very presence inspires fear in all who see your face or hear your words. This Blessing is ineffective against those higher level than you or those who possess the willpower to resist the dread you stir.


    Details: All those within sight and sound of you will feel fear and terror as if you are a predator and they are prey.


    Mathew had read the summary twice, feeling a weight in his stomach grow as he did so. He didn¡¯t have much choice: either accept a Discipline that put a collar around his neck or one that would change the way he thought and behaved.


    Regretting it, he voiced his decision to the Tower.


    ¡°I choose ¡®Villain.¡¯¡±

 Chapter 79 – Floor 8: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 79</u> ¨C Floor 8: Part 5


    The Margrave counted down the days until the Champion left his castle with anticipation.


    It wasn¡¯t that the man did anything, or even said much, to make the Margrave dislike having him as a guest. In fact, after the initial questioning of the Nobles and the Prince, the Champion had barely left his room or even said more than a handful of words to anyone.


    No, it was just that the mere presence of the young man in his castle unnerved him and all of his staff.


    Mathew had an Aura about him that could be terrifying at times.


    It had started a few days after the Emperor had left, leaving the Champion to rest alone at the Margrave¡¯s castle for a month until the gods could transport him to his next destination. At that point, the Champion was a superhuman figure to everyone who had witnessed what he had done.


    Strength beyond that of mortals, magic that could move objects or create destruction at a gesture; the stories were already spreading far and wide about him. But he was still human, still just flesh and blood, and the Margrave found that the few times he had engaged with the Champion in the days after the investigation were rather¡­.mundane.


    Mathew ate and slept, relaxed and bathed or took long walks through the castle or the grounds of the Margrave¡¯s estate. People were curious and respectful but not fearful of him.


    That had changed overnight.


    The Margrave had felt this growing sense of unease all morning like an unknown worry gnawing at his insides. His breakfast had tasted like ashes in his mouth, and he lost all appetite after only a few bites. His wife felt a similar sense of anxiety, fiddling with her skirts in apprehension.


    It was almost a relief when he heard a servant scream from upstairs.


    They had rushed up the stone steps of the castle to the guest quarters to find one of their servants laying on the ground, pointing and screaming at the top of his lungs at the door to the Champion¡¯s room. Inconsolable, the Margrave had left him to the care of his wife and checked on the Champion.


    What greeted him was a figure from a nightmare.


    The Champion stood in the room, cloaked in darkness. He seemed to be as tall as a mountain to the Margrave¡¯s eyes, an impossibly colossal character made of pure menace and malevolence. The balding man swore he could hear the sounds of bones crunching beneath Mathew¡¯s feet as he took a step toward him, and the young man¡¯s crimson eyes locked onto his.


    Then, there had been nothing.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew watched with satisfaction as the Margrave fainted in the doorway. A part of him, long distant and nearly forgotten, felt a tinge of regret at tormenting the poor man. He seemed an alright person, an arrogant noble but not cruel.


    But that part of Mathew had been smothered by half a decade of violence on the seventh floor and a number of years in the Tower of Avarice so long that Mathew couldn¡¯t recall precisely how many he had spent here.


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    He wished he could blame his new attitude on the ¡®Villain¡¯ Discipline, but the truth was that he had been like this before. Perhaps that was why it had been chosen for him.


    Detached from the situation he had created, Mathew stopped funnelling mana into his new Blessing. The ¡®Fear¡¯ he generated ceased immediately, and when the Margrave¡¯s wife came running to her husband¡¯s aid, she found Mathew in his normal state.


    No longer a terrifying being, she was confused when her husband awoke and spoke of a demon haunting their castle instead of the Champion.


    A Blessing required practice, and Mathew would occasionally turn on the ¡®Fear¡¯ to test its effects. By the end of the month, he had gained a new reputation, and everyone was glad to be rid of him. He had chuckled at the stammering Margrave¡¯s hollow attempts to ¡®persuade¡¯ him to remain longer.


    Out of politeness, Mathew didn¡¯t tell the Margrave that he knew he was lying.


    In compensation for the terror he inflicted on the Margrave and everyone around him, Mathew gifted the man a selection of healing potions and a large diamond he purchased from the store for a pittance. Jewels and precious metals only had value to players when crafting items, or they could sometimes be used for components in spells or select Blessings.


    To Mathew, they were worthless. However, he appreciated how one of the servant¡¯s eyes comically enlarged at the sight of a ruby as large as an egg he had given her for taking care of him the last few weeks.


    Finally, the time came for Mathew to step into the Elevator and travel to the ninth floor. As the doors closed, he caught the look of relief on the Margrave¡¯s face. He couldn¡¯t help letting out another chuckle at the expression.


    Perhaps his Discipline was affecting him.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    While Mathew waited to arrive on the Ninth Floor, he checked his wristband for the ¡®Judgement¡¯ of the gods. The goddess of Truth and Reconciliation had invited him, but he was sure that several of the other gods were keeping an eye on him.


    They had been watching him closely since the Seventh Floor.


    The goddess of Truth and Reconciliation is pleased with your performance, although they are concerned with your behaviour toward their followers. They have chosen to withhold a completion bonus.


    ¡°Stingy.¡± Mathew grumbled.


    The god of Righteous Subjugation has attempted to request your assistance but has been denied by the other gods of the Tower.


    ¡°Good. Righteous Subjugation is becoming too interested in me.¡± Mathew commented softly. He had no interest in becoming an Apostle.


    The god of Mischievous Depravity is pleased you accepted their Discipline. Your presence is requested and has been approved by the gods.


    Mathew closed the screen after seeing the last judgment. Mischievous Depravity didn¡¯t sound like a god he wanted to associate with, but, to be honest, none of them were too appealing. Even the good ones seemed to have agendas.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    The Elevator began to slow, and Mathew¡¯s wristband began to vibrate to announce a new message. Raising his wrist, it projected words on the wall beside him.


    The god of Mischievous Depravity has named you its ¡®Champion¡¯ for the ninth floor. A bonus will be granted if you complete the Floor in the manner dictated by your Patron Deity.


    Floor 9: Every Hero Needs a Villain


    Summary: The world of Arista has stagnated. The people are lax in their faith in the gods and grow callous and uncaring. Power is held in the hands of a class of mages and warriors of incredible strength who oppress the populace in the name of ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®morality,¡¯ all the while acting in the opposite in secret.


    Without conflict, there can be no growth. Fire burns away the rot and allows new life to spread.


    You will be that fire, burning away the weeds and allowing a new generation of Heroes to rise.


    Objective: Conquer the town of Reesh. Additional objectives will be named by your Patron Deity of this Floor upon completion.


    Mathew closed the screen with a wave of his hand. He had selected ¡®Villian¡¯ not because he wanted to be one but because he didn¡¯t want to become an Apostle of a god. Was he being punished for his choice?


    ¡®At least I don¡¯t have to kill anyone. I just need to conquer a town, but the method is left to me.¡¯ Mathew thought. ¡®Fear¡¯ would be an incredibly useful Blessing to achieve that goal.


    Making plans for how to go about completing this Floor, Mathew hardly noticed when the elevator came to a stop. The doors opened, revealing the Ninth Floor.

 Chapter 80 – Floor 9: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 80</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 1


    The Town of Reesh was located in a valley next to a winding river. Mathew appeared from the elevator on the crest of a hill overlooking the small collection of houses. There were less than a thousand people, making it more of a small village than a town.


    The houses were made of stone and thatch, and Mathew estimated that they were in the early medieval stage of their development. He could see horses and oxen pulling carts while farmers and peasants toiled in the fields around their homes or piloted small boats in the wide, slow-moving river.


    The sky above his head was covered in clouds, and the air was filled with moisture. The ground was wet and muddy from the rain. It was a quiet day in an idyllic town.


    They had no idea that a villain had come to conquer them.


    Mathew raised the collar of his jacket and adjusted the scarf around his neck. He judged it to be springtime in this world. The chill of winter still had traces, and the budding green on the trees was matched by the seeds being planted in the fields below.


    He made his way down the hill.


    <u>Page Break </u>


    Standing in the middle of the town square, little more than a fork in the road that led through the town on one side and the rickety docks on the other, Mathew contemplated how to go about conquering Reesh in a timely manner.


    Did he just announce that he was here to take over? The few townspeople in the area had given him odd looks, but no one cared about who he was or why he was dressed so strangely. Unlike the other floors, there hadn¡¯t been an announcement to the populace of a Champion¡¯s arrival. It was up to him to make a ¡®splash.¡¯


    He was saved by a large man approaching him. Wearing an old, faded leather breastplate that was too small for his frame, the man lumbered down the road toward him. In his hands was an iron rod, about three feet in length. A much shorter woman walked beside him, casting nervous glances at both Mathew and the man beside her.


    ¡°State your business, stranger, before I toss you out of town on your rear end.¡± The large man said, not bothering with an introduction or polite greeting. Mathew frowned. It had been years since someone had been disrespectful to him.


    Even the traitors of the seventh floor who had gone over to the Outer Deity wouldn¡¯t speak to him like that for fear of retaliation.


    The woman cleared her throat, looking at the large man reproachfully, before speaking.


    ¡°I am Eleanor Goodwin, Mayor of Reesh. This is the lord¡¯s Reeve. We ask that you state your business here. We do not normally have many travellers.¡± Mayor Goodwin said.


    ¡®Reeve.¡¯ Mathew thought, understanding the title. It was similar to a magistrate or local administrator who oversaw an area on behalf of their lord.


    ¡®Perfect.¡¯ Mathew thought. He wouldn¡¯t need to go out of his way to find someone of authority.


    ¡°This town belongs to me now.¡± Mathew said, ignoring the large man and speaking directly to the mayor. She stared at him like he was mad while the Reeve flushed red in anger.


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    ¡°You piece of -¡± Mathew interrupted him with a Blessing.


    ¡°Halt Movement.¡± He said, waving his hand causally in the Reeve¡¯s direction. The large man froze. His eyes moved rapidly back and forth in disbelief. Mathew walked forward and plucked the iron rod from the Reeve¡¯s hand.


    ¡°You will go tell your lord or lady that Reesh is mine now. If anyone dares contest that fact, I will ¡®toss them out of town onto their rear end,¡¯ as you so succinctly put it.¡± Mathew said. He didn¡¯t let the Reeve go immediately; the Blessing would wear off by itself in a minute or so. It was better to leave him frozen to understand the situation''s severity.


    Mathew didn¡¯t enjoy repeating himself or making repeated demonstrations of his power.


    ¡°Mayor Goodwin, you will stop paying all taxes to the local lord and instead be giving them directly to me. If you have an issue with that, I would be more than happy to discuss it like I did with the Reeve.¡± Mathew threatened.


    Seeing that the Mayor was still stunned, Mathew shrugged an began to walk away. Along the road at the edge of town was a hill, which he had marked when he had observed it earlier. This was his destination, where he would be making his home.


    Every villain needed a lair, after all.


    ¡°Demon magic!¡± The Mayor shouted from behind him, finally rousing from her stupor. Her shout echoed loudly and Mathew didn¡¯t slow his steps.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew stood at the top of the hill, ignoring the activity of the townsfolk behind him. The Reeve had fled, likely back to his lord or lady to report on what Mathew had done. He didn¡¯t care. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ hadn¡¯t activated once since he arrived here, so he doubted anyone in the area as strong as him.


    He had a different goal for the moment than calming the populace.


    He had decided that the easiest way to accomplish his objective was to project power and fear over the town of Reesh, and to do that, the Shop offered a perfect solution.


    Opening his wristband, Mathew quickly perused the items available for purchase. They had changed over the years. As he had gained levels, the more mundane items were pushed to the back of the list to make room for magical items.


    Finding what he was looking for, Mathew winced at the cost.


    ¡°Tsk. Three hundred thousand Aether?¡± Mathew muttered. If he had known the details of the Ninth floor beforehand, he would have saved some of his Aether. As it stood now, he was woefully short.


    With a put-upon sigh, he opened another tab. Flicking through his inventory, he quickly found what he was looking for and pulled it out. It was a cube, glowing a bright blue even in the cloudy daylight. It filled his hand and felt warm against his skin.


    ¡°Crystalized Aether. What a waste.¡± Mathew whispered. He had picked it up on the Seventh floor from the remains of one of the players. This cube was worth at least four hundred thousand Aether, enough to purchase what he was looking for and a few other items.


    Mathew held it for a moment, studying the Aether carefully, before crushing it with his hand. The crystal turned to dust in his hand before evaporating into a mist that swirled around him and was absorbed by his skin. He breathed in deeply, enjoying the spicy smell of the Aether before it vanished.


    It was gone in seconds, converted and stored inside his status screen for his use. Turning his attention back to the Shop screen, Mathew made his purchase.


    It was a tiny mansion inside a globe, similar to something you would buy in a giftshop on Earth. It was a one-time-use magical item that would be perfect for his needs. It would grow to full size upon command, a new home for him to use while he was on this floor.


    The mansion was elegant but had a slightly sinister look to it, as if his Discipline was affecting his choice of items.


    Mathew placed the glass globe carefully in the center of the hill and stepped back.


    ¡°Grow.¡± Mathew commanded. The glass shattered, and in seconds, the mansion took shape. Before his eyes stood a home worthy of a Villain and the new lord of the Town of Reesh. Mathew stepped into the mansion, observing the bare brick walls and wooden floors with a critical eye.


    Unfortunately, the mansion didn¡¯t come with items inside of it, but he should have enough remaining Aether to purchase something to impress the locals.


    In less than an hour, the Mayor who approached the newly built mansion with a mob of townspeople were stunned by the changes. Where there had been a bare, grassy hill was now a building fit for a lord, filled with beautiful furniture and works of art.


    Sitting on a throne in the main hall was a figure out of their nightmares.

 Chapter 81 – Floor 9: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 81</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 2


    Mayor Goodwin led a party consisting of most of the town to the newly constructed mansion on the hill just outside of town. After seeing what the Demon had done to the Reeve, freezing him in place for minutes with only a few words, she should have expected the creature to have more tricks up its sleeve.


    The fact that the Demon resembled a handsome young man was unsettling, they had let it into town without a single question! Imagine the destruction such a monster would be capable of in a large community.


    After she had gathered the townspeople to fight the monster, a thought had come to her. Why would a Demon with which abilities and power come to Reesh and declare himself the ¡®owner¡¯? With his power, the creature wearing the face of a young man could conquer a much better place, why take over a backwater like her town?


    As they walked up the hill, the Mayor couldn¡¯t help but admire the structure in front of her. It was an elegant palace with white stone and dark brown timber. There were statues in front of the entrance depicting warriors with swords and axes. Large, stained glass windows of multiple colours brightened the exterior, although something about the mansion unnerved her.


    It wasn¡¯t the fact that it had appeared from nowhere; it was more like she was looking at the lair of a predator, the home of a monster that could easily kill her.


    Steeling herself, the Mayor led the way into the mansion, where a large hall confronted her with a throne at the end. To any outside observer capable of resisting Mathew¡¯s ¡®Fear¡¯ Blessing, they would see a normal young man sitting on a large, wooden chair and staring at the mob that entered his home with amusement.


    But to the crowd, they were seeing a giant capable of obliterating them with a mere gesture. The Demon sat on a throne made of bone, the screams of the dead haunting them with their cries. An enormous halo of darkness surrounded the seated creatures, a roiling mass of evil that chilled them to the bone.


    ¡°Demon!¡± they shouted as they ran.


    Most of the mob didn¡¯t set foot inside the structure; the ¡®Fear¡¯ Blessing drove them away on mass. The Mayor, who had made it the farthest inside, was about to turn around and run away as well when a familiar voice spoke.


    ¡°Halt Movement.¡± It ordered, the soft tone carrying over the distance between them without issue. The Mayor felt her body freeze, and she was incapable of movement. She could only stare as the creature stood, its head grazing the roof of the building as it stepped down from its throne.


    The terror pushed at her, and she thought her heart would freeze. She was begging the gods to save her when the creature changed, the figure before her shifted, and the Fear disappeared as if it was never there.


    In the place of the demonic giant was the young man, with an amiable smile as he approached her. As quickly as she had frozen, the force released her and she fell onto her knees, gasping for breath.


    A hand was held in front of her, offering to support the Mayor back to her feet. She looked up in surprise at the Demon, who appeared to be a young man.


    ¡°Hello again, Mayor Goodwin. I thought you might join me for a discussion about Reesh¡¯s future now that I have settled in.¡± The young man said, and the Mayor couldn¡¯t help being stunned by the juxtaposition between the demonic figure who had greeted their arrival and the handsome young man in front of her.


    Her hesitation must have been comical to the young man; he began to smile at her appearance, but he didn¡¯t retract his hand. After another moment, she took it. She was surprised that it felt¡­human and warm.


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    Regaining her feet, the young man gestured to the side of the hall. She followed behind him numbly, expecting any moment for him to turn and assault her. Against the power he displayed, she was helpless. The mere sight of his demonic form had driven away a mob of hundreds. What hope did she have of escaping?


    He brought her to a small sitting room with expensive furniture made of wood and gold embroidered cushions. Waiting on a table was a pitcher with multiple glasses and plates of fruit and food she had never seen before. The smell was tempting, and even with the presence of the Demon beside her, the Mayor¡¯s mouth watered.


    Despite being the Mayor of Reesh, Goodwin was too poor to afford such luxuries as the food and wine arrayed before her. She had been widowed at a young age, leaving her with a home and a bit of money her husband and parents had left her. But her clothing was worn and thin, her hands dry and cracked from labouring in the fields and river.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew observed the mayor as she took the preferred seat across from him at the small table. She was an older woman in her forties or fifties. Wearing a dress that had been faded by the sun and patched too many times, he could tell she had a hard life.


    The old him would have felt sympathy for terrifying someone like he had, but that was years and nine Floors ago. He was changed, likely irreparably. He did what he needed to do to progress in the Tower.


    But it didn¡¯t mean he had to be a monster. He had shown them the stick, that they couldn¡¯t fight him. It was time for the carrot.


    ¡°Please.¡± Mathew said, gesturing to the table of food. He had purchased it from the shop using Aether, and compared to when he had first entered the Tower, it was quite a bit higher quality than he had found any of the locals enjoying on any of the Floors he had been on.


    Compared to what Reesh had, Mathew knew it would be irresistible. Indeed, no sooner than he had offered that he caught the Mayor¡¯s hand twitch toward the food before stopping. He let out an exaggerated sigh.


    Perhaps he needed to ¡®set the table¡¯ before he offered the carrot.


    ¡°I have a question to ask if you don¡¯t mind. You named me ¡®demon¡¯ when I first arrived in Reesh. And your friends shouted it at me as they ran a moment ago. Are ¡®Demons¡¯ common in this world?¡± Mathew asked, not bothering to hide the fact that he wasn¡¯t from here.


    The Mayor hesitated, looking at him for a moment and licking her lips nervously before responding.


    ¡°Not¡­ for many centuries.¡± She paused. ¡°The Lords and Ladies drove the Demons away, so the scriptures say. As I¡¯m sure they will drive you away.¡± She finished. Her eyes opened wide as she realized what she had just said, and she slapped a wrinkled hand over her mouth.


    She expected to be killed for her comment, but instead, the young man nodded thoughtfully.


    ¡°These ¡®Demons,¡¯ they looked like me and had similar powers?¡± Mathew asked. The Mayor nodded quickly.


    ¡°Yes, I believe so. We have been cautioned of their return. The gods had delivered a warning to the Lords and Ladies. I-I did not expect to see a Demon in Reesh.¡± She said quietly.


    ¡®Players.¡¯ Mathew thought.


    The ¡®Demons¡¯ of the past were likely players like him who came to this world as a way to ¡®shake things up¡¯ or some other reason only the gods knew. If they warned that more ¡®Demons¡¯ were coming, then it was probable that Mathew wasn¡¯t the only Player arriving on this Floor.


    Just as he was about to respond, a faint ¡®Ding¡¯ rang out of the room. Mathew immediately checked his wristband, ignoring the look the Mayor was giving him at his strange action. She couldn¡¯t see the words that now appeared in his eyes.


    Update to Rewards:


    To all participants,


    You will be granted Aether based on the number of people residing in your ¡®Sphere of influence¡¯. Each day, 1 point of Aether will be awarded for each living person in your area.


    Fighting between Players is forbidden and will result in penalties.


    The message wasn¡¯t signed, and Mathew closed it after reading.


    ¡®So, he just needed to secure the area and encourage people to settle in Reesh or expand his control area. This made things easier for the moment since now he had an even better ¡®carrot¡¯ for the Mayor.¡¯ Mathe thought as he regarded the woman in front of him.


    ¡°I own Reesh. The Lord or Lady of this land will never be able to take it away from me. And you are correct, Mayor Goodwin; more ¡®Demons¡¯ will be coming to this world. I will protect Reesh and the surrounding area from all threats, including the other ¡®Demons.¡¯ All I ask in exchange is the fealty of yourself and every person living here.¡± Mathew stated.


    He didn¡¯t outright deny the title of ¡®Demon.¡¯ He was here to conquer territory until the god that brought him here allowed him to progress to the next Floor. Mathew was only meant to be a way to eliminate the stagnation that had taken hold of this world, and he wouldn¡¯t abuse or mistreat the populace.


    Not if it didn¡¯t align with his interests.

 Chapter 82 – Floor 9: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 82</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 3


    It took the Reeve nearly a week to travel to the Lord¡¯s manor to report what had happened at Reesh and another week to return with an escort. Better than the two dozen men he had at his back were the two people in a covered wagon behind them.


    A young man and woman, they were the Lord¡¯s grandchildren and were being trained in the ways of magic and warfare. To the public, the Lords and Ladies were paragons of light and virtue, the personification of the Ruling Elite.


    But the Reeve had been around the Nobility enough to understand their true nature. They were violent and cruel, a fact that was hidden from the populace. If it wasn¡¯t for the surety that they were dealing with a Demon, the Reeve would never have agreed to come back with them.


    At least with the two in the wagon, the Reeve was sure they wouldn¡¯t kill him without reason. Better the evil he knew than the unknown.


    Truth be told, he hadn¡¯t known anything about this pair. He was unaware that the Lord had Grandchildren, but if they were similar to their sire, then they would be nearly as bad as the Demons they claimed to protect them against.


    The thought of facing the young man who had taken Reesh from him made him shudder with dread. The ease with which he had been subdued was something that only the Lord and those ¡®Chosen¡¯ were capable of.


    Blessed by the gods with magic, longevity and superhuman abilities. It was their ancestors that had first driven away the Demons, and it would be the ¡®Chosen¡¯ that did so again.


    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± The Reeve shouted as they topped a rise next to Reesh. Located in a valley, the road twisted slightly as it descended, giving them a view of the town. While the escort stopped to allow the Lord¡¯s Grandchildren to exit their wagon, the Reeve marvelled at the changes to the town that had occurred in only a few short weeks.


    There was a mansion on a distant hill on the edge of town, a structure that rivalled the Lord¡¯s palace he had just left. The town seemed intact. The Demon hadn¡¯t burned it to the ground. The Reeve had expected bodies to be on display, burnt husks of houses and pools of blood.


    Instead, people were still in the small gardens and fields next to their homes. Boats were fishing in the river, and he could even see workers building a new warehouse next to the dock. More of the townspeople were laying stones on the road in the middle of town, covering the muddy walkways with solid roadwork.


    ¡°What the hell is going on here?¡± The Reeve whispered in confusion. He had been told the Demons thrived on chaos and destruction, yet it seemed its ownership of Reesh had improved things in the backwater instead.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be fooled. The scriptures tell us that Demons take many forms, and while some delight in torture and ruin, others take enjoyment in constructing monuments to themselves or building up areas of civilization in order to farm sacrifice to themselves.¡± The young man said, walking up beside the Reeve and assessing Reesh.


    ¡°As the farmer breeds cattle, so do Demons tend to their flock. You are looking at nothing more than slaves constructing their own cages.¡± The young woman added.


    The Reeve nodded. Of course, the pair would know more than him about such things.


    ¡°If it even is the efforts of a Demon, Sister. Such a creature would never come to such a remote place as this. It is far more probable that we are dealing with a bastard child of a Lord too ashamed to claim him. We will subdue him and have him serve our Grandfather instead.¡± The young man said.


    ¡°As is only proper.¡± His sister agreed, and the Reeve felt a sense of relief from the ease with which they spoke of the Demon. The cost of having the brother and sister come to Reesh had been steep. They had requested over a dozen of the region''s womenfolk for their grandfather¡¯s personal use as servants.


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    Although the Reeve knew what use they would actually have, the habits of the Lords and Ladies were not well known, but he was amongst the select few aware of the truth.


    The true Demons were here all along.


    ¡°If it pleases the Young Lord and Lady?¡± The Reeve asked, bowing low and gesturing for the pair to follow him into town. They didn¡¯t acknowledge his words. They set out on the path down to the town together. The young man wore a white robe, pristine in the sunlight and untouched by the mud on the road.


    His sister had a long dress of the finest silk, so thin and flowing that it was like gossamer. Their hair was both as black as night and left long in the tradition of the Nobility. They were in their early twenties and unmarried, an oddity for anyone outside of the caste of Lord and Lady, where arranged marriages could take decades to decide.


    The Reeve was unaware of their names. He hadn¡¯t been made privy to it when he had been ordered to escort them to Reesh. The siblings only referred to each other as ¡®Brother¡¯ or ¡®Sister,¡¯ and even then they rarely spoke to each other on the trip.


    He hastened after them, his footsteps flicking mud behind him as he ran.


    He caught up to the pair just as they crossed into town. The locals were eyeing the trio warily. They knew the Reeve would have gone for help. He had announced it when the Demon first arrived.


    But why did they seem more wary of what they were here to do than excited to be rescued from the clutches of the Fiend who now claimed to rule them?


    His answer soon arrived in the form of Mayor Goodwin, who seemed to be calm and composed regarding their visit. She gave a deep bow to the siblings and a more shallow one to the Reeve. The Mayor wasn¡¯t stupid; she knew the status of the young man and woman was far above all of theirs.


    ¡°Welcome to Reesh. Demon Lord Mathew is expecting you. He has asked that I bring you to him promptly.¡± Goodwin said, and the Reeve¡¯s eyes widened at the declaration. Was the mayor serving this so-called Demon willingly?


    ¡°You wen-¡± The Reeve began, only to be abruptly cut off by the young Lady raised hand. His teeth clicked together, and they could hear him grinding them in anger. But he held his tongue. He would never offend the like of the siblings.


    ¡°Lead on, Mayor Goodwin. Demon Lord¡­Mathew.¡± The young woman said, the last part a whisper. The young man was quiet, and his eyes were trained on the mansion in the distance. The Mayor bowed once again and began to lead them through the town. The curious locals watched them as they traveled, but they were unwilling to follow.


    The mansion took the Reeve¡¯s breath away. It was beyond even the Lord''s castle that he had visited only a week before. The wealth on display, the gold and silver inlaid furniture, the works of fine art and more left the Reeve speechless. Even the young siblings were affected by what they saw, and the Reeve caught a look pass between them.


    ¡®Looks like this isn¡¯t some Lord¡¯s bastard out on a lark.¡¯ The Reeve thought smugly.


    The Mayor, unaffected by the mansion¡¯s opulence, walked swiftly across the hall toward a throne at the far end. It had been blurred in some way, making the figure seated there hard to focus on.


    The Reeve hadn¡¯t spotted him at first; it was only after they had entered and the door shut behind them that whatever magic was at work dissipated.


    ¡°Lord Demon. I have brought your guests as requested.¡± The Mayor said, bowing much more deeply to the now rapidly unblurring figure than she had for the Reeve or the two siblings.


    ¡°I have asked that you not call me thought.¡± The figure spoke wearily, a tinge of amusement in his tone. It was then that the Reeve saw the Demon with the face of a young man again.


    He wore a black coat with a red scarf obscuring his neck and chin. His dark hair was long, cropped at the neck and swept backwards out of his face. He was handsome, his features perfect and skin fair. The Demon looked to be even younger than the siblings, in his late teens or early twenties and untouched by the sun or harsh weather.


    Mathew sat unconcerned with the identity of the visitors. He had one leg crossed over the other as he lazed in the chair and curiously watched the siblings.


    The ¡®Buzz¡¯ hadn¡¯t told him anything about the siblings, meaning they were likely weaker than himself. But there was something interesting about the pair. Aether swirled around them, and mana inhabited their bodies.


    It was like he was looking at two Players of the Tower of Avarice, but that wasn¡¯t possible. He could come to only one conclusion, a single hypothesis.


    This pair, a Lord and Lady of this land, was related to players in some fashion. The villain in him crowed at the attention he was receiving, and he itched to act the part. But the desire to find the truth from his Truthsayer Blessing was nearly as strong.


    He was starting to enjoy his time on this Floor.

 Chapter 83 – Floor 9: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 83</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 4


    Despite her outward appearance of calm composure, Mayor Goodwin was anything but. Inside, she was a nervous wreck. The hammer had finally fallen on Reesh, between the Demon Lord ¡®Mathew¡¯ and the Lord and Ladies that ruled over them.


    She didn¡¯t know the siblings that had come to eliminate the Demon, but it was clear they were descendants of Lord Algrond, the centuries-old man who had protected these lands since his own father had died fighting the original Demons.


    The Demon Lord, who insisted on being called the mundane name of ¡®Mathew¡¯ as if he were just a lowly human, seemed entirely unconcerned with the pair''s visit. He hadn¡¯t even gotten out of his chair and was completely at ease.


    But she had seen the power he commanded. Even if he were relaxed, she had no doubt that he was capable of wiping out Reesh if he so desired.


    Mayor Goodwin was conflicted. On the one hand, she did not want to be ruled by a Demon who, despite seeming reasonable and indifferent to the daily rule of Reesh, could always change his mind and take a more direct approach to governing them.


    The Scriptures spoke of Demons enslaving entire populations, lining the road with bodies of the dead and dying. But their world was delivered from evil by the Lords and Ladies of that time, some of whom are still with them to this day.


    But over the past few weeks, ¡®Mathew¡¯ had not displayed any of the evil or maliciousness that she had expected of a Demon. He had ordered her to help the people and had even provided resources for Reesh''s expansion. Where the Reeve had only taken from the town to give to their Lord, the Demon had expected nothing from her except to improve Reesh.


    When asked why he wanted the town to grow, he had simply stated that he would grow stronger with each person living within the territory he ruled. Aside from that, she could use the tax money she collected and any other resources she needed to improve Reesh.


    She had thought it was a trick, but as time went on, she thought that perhaps he was speaking the truth. The Demon seemed to have an affinity for the Truth, and she had found that he knew when she wasn¡¯t being honest, chiding her gently for the times when she tried to lie to him.


    ¡°Welcome to my town of Reesh.¡± Mathew greeted the pair, and Mayor Goodwin was interrupted from her thoughts. The Demon Lord still rested in his chair, a smirk on his face as he watched the siblings approach.


    ¡°This woman has named you Demon, but I see nothing but a clown foolish enough to accept the title. Tell me, which Lord¡¯s seed produces such a half-wit? I would tell my Grandfather of their name so that he may chide him properly when we bring you before him.¡± The young woman said grandly, her voice echoing off the walls. Her brother stared at Mathew with daggers in his eyes, his hand clenched by his side.


    If Mathew was offended, he didn¡¯t show it. In fact, his smirk became a smile at the notion of being some Lord¡¯s illegitimate child.


    ¡°Is that so.¡± Mathew muttered, his whispered voice trailing off.


    ¡°Unfortunately, I am not related to your Lords and Ladies. At least, I do not believe I am. I suppose, when dealing with the gods, all things are possible. Mayor Goodwin named me ¡®Demon,¡¯ and perhaps I am if their identities are what I expect them to be. Have you ever heard of the ¡®Tower of Avarice?¡¯¡± Mathew asked.


    The young woman looked to her brother, who shook his head negatively before responding.


    ¡°No. Is that where you hail from? You claim to not be of a Lordly lineage, but your powers reveal your true origins.¡± The young woman stated.


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    Mathew shrugged his shoulder.


    ¡°Or maybe I am a Demon. Goodwin informed me their coming had been foretold, and here I am, newly arrived in your world.¡± Mathew said, making a sweeping gesture towards himself and the mansion around them.


    ¡°I think not. The Demons can contend with the Lords and Ladies themselves. You do not require even half of our true strength. Brother, I will handle this imposter alone. Do not interfere.¡± The young woman ordered.


    Nodding his head, the young man stepped backwards to give her space while Mayor Goodwin retreated at a glance from Mathew. With a loud sigh, the Demon Lord slowly stood from his throne and descended the three steps to the tiled floor. Adjusting his clothing, he waited for the young woman to begin.


    ¡°I am Natisha, of the Aeolian lineage.  My great grandfather fought the Demon Lord ¡®Markus the Fallbringer¡¯ and drove him from these lands two hundred and fourteen years ago.¡± Natisha introduced herself. She held out her hand to the side of her body and made a grasping motion.


    At the gesture, Mathew stood still and watched her carefully. This was the confirmation he was looking for of her identity.


    She pulled an item out of her inventory.


    Natisha gripped a sword in her hand, long and thin, it made a whistling noise as it moved through the air, and she took her stance. Mathew narrowed his eyes at the sight of the blade. He didn¡¯t recognize the item, but he knew what it was.


    Burning letters flashed atop the blade, alerting him to its properties. It was a magical item purchased from the Tower of Avarice shop.


    He wasn¡¯t entirely sure how she got it, but only Players could use an inventory and wield items from the shop. He had seen it for himself. Locals on the Floors didn¡¯t have the required Aether and Mana to use them. They would become useless in their hands.


    Natisha wasn¡¯t a Player. Mathew was certain of that. Then she must be¡­.


    ¡®Related to a Player. She was their descendant.¡¯ Mathew thought. He hadn¡¯t heard of anyone entering into a relationship or having children with the locals that they met while travelling through the Floors. Mathew had certainly never tested if he could have children with them, but it didn¡¯t mean it was impossible.


    Was her great-grandfather a Player?


    This only heightened his curiosity, and he watched Natisha more carefully as she took a stance with the blade. It was raised up near her shoulder, the tip pointing directly at him.


    Mathew wasn¡¯t worried. He had some idea of how strong she was, and this wasn¡¯t the first time someone pointed a sword at him. Besides, compared to the Fiends he had faced for over half a decade on the Seventh Floor, this was akin to a toddle aiming a butter knife at him.


    ¡°Sundered Sea.¡± Natisha commanded the sword, and the edge glowed with blue mana. Mathew could feel the blade ¡®hum¡¯ the mana swirling within like a tidepool. If he hadn¡¯t been sure of the weapon''s origins before, this attack confirmed them.


    Natisha dashed forward, sweeping the sword upwards as she did so. Her speed was faster than a normal human would be able to react, and she reached Mathew in moments. As fast as she as, the Fiends of the Seventh Floor were much quicker, and Mathew had no issues following her movements.


    Mathew wasn¡¯t a fighter. He preferred keeping his distance from his enemies whenever possible. Even with the magic mace that had once belonged to Samuel in his possession, he wouldn¡¯t think about pulling it out of his inventory and using it in a life-or-death situation.


    It was great for intimidating others, but he placed his trust in his Blessings.


    But that didn¡¯t mean he didn¡¯t know how to fight. He hadn¡¯t survived on the Seventh Floor for years by keeping his distance and avoiding his enemies. Mathew lost track of how many times a Fiend would make it past his allies or ambush out of the darkness before he could fire off a ¡®Mystic Bolt¡¯ or other ability.


    He could only rely on his ¡®Body stat¡¯ to keep him alive in those situations. After years of consuming Aether, his stats had reached the point where he was nearly five times faster and stronger than a normal human being.


    Mathew sidestepped the blow, his body capable of extreme bursts of speed while time seemed to slow down. His perceptions allowed him to plan his movements carefully. A side effect of his ¡®mind¡¯ stat, as he gained levels, was that the time he could maintain this state of heightened awareness increased.


    For now, a second was all he could manage, but it was enough.


    He watched as the magical blade narrowly avoided his skin, but a few centimetres could have been miles for all of the chance it had to strike him. As the blade bit into the ground, Mathew gripped the young woman¡¯s wrist and used her momentum to carry her forward.


    To Mayor Goodwin, everything happened faster than a blink of an eye. One moment Natisha was on the other side of the room. The next she was flying through the air. Mathew held her magical sword in his hand as the young woman landed on his throne, knocking the furniture over.


    With a grin, he turned to the young man.


    ¡°Your turn?¡± Mathew asked arrogantly.

 Chapter 84 – Floor 9: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 84</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 5


    ¡°You truly are a Demon.¡± The young man said quietly. His eyes never left Mathew¡¯s, even when his sister let out a faint groan and tried to get up from the toppled throne. He watched every movement of the Demon Lord in an effort to gauge his abilities but was forced to give up.


    Still, he wasn¡¯t one to run away from a fight. His sister was too brash; she should have held back to judge this Demon better. Instead, she wanted to make a show of force to impress their grandfather.


    ¡°If you say so.¡± Mathew responded with a smirk and a shrug.


    ¡°Nathaniel, of the Aeolian Lineage.¡± The young man introduced himself as he pulled a small dagger from his inventory. Mathew observed the blade, studying its explanation before nodding.


    ¡°Pleasure to meet you.¡± The Demon greeted politely.


    They could have been two young men meeting casually if it wasn¡¯t for the air of danger and the fact that the Demon now wielded his sister¡¯s sword. The Demon gave it a few practice swings. The blade made a whistling sound as it moved.


    ¡°This is a nice weapon, I think I¡¯ll keep it. I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll mind, don¡¯t you think?¡± Mathew asked, his eyes flickering to the young woman. Not waiting for a response, the sword disappeared into his inventory, and Nathaniel¡¯s eyes widened.


    He wasn¡¯t aware that Demons had the same abilities as those of the Lordly Lineages. He was right to be careful. If he hadn¡¯t just witnessed his sister¡¯s defeat, he may have still been under the mistaken assumption that he was dealing with another Lord.


    But someone this powerful would have drawn attention ages ago. Only a Demon would appear out of nowhere and claim a territory.


    ¡°That sword belongs to our lineage, Demon.¡± Nathaniel commented, a frown creasing his perfect features. The Demon frustratingly smiled at the words.


    ¡°It seems to like me more. It does seem to be a bit lonely; I¡¯ll have to add that dagger to my collection as well. What¡¯s a Demon Lord without a horde of magical weapons squirrelled away.¡± Mathew joked, laughing at his declaration.


    Nathaniel didn¡¯t respond. He set himself into the proper stance for his attack. He had seen how quickly the Demon had moved. His agility and strength could be matched only by their Lord Grandfather. But Nathaniel wasn¡¯t cowed. He had sparred against their grandfather to learn how to counter such power.


    While the Demon was laughing to himself, outwardly off guard and unprepared, Nathanial struck.


    ¡°Blessing: Blink.¡± He whispered, driving the mana inside his body to cycle from his chest and into his legs. He propelled himself forward, and to all outside observers, he disappeared for a moment. To Nathanial, the world shifted in an instant, and his vision changed from having the Demon lord standing in front of him to seeing Mathew¡¯s unprotected back.


    Mid-air from the transition, Nathanial was about to plunge the dagger down when the Demon blurred. Where there had been a young man, chuckling to himself, now was a shapeless blob, wavering and shifting as if in a haze of heat in the desert.


    Nathaniel had been positive of the Demon¡¯s location when he had blinked, and his confidence led him to strike at the center of the moving mass. To his shock, his dagger struck nothing but air as his momentum carried him forward.


    He rolled across the ground as he landed, twisting as he did so to come face to face with the Demon once more.


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    ¡°Blessings¡­so I was right. You are the descendant of a player.¡± Mathew whispered, letting the blur ability fade again. He wasn¡¯t worried about Nathaniel. Even with Blink, he had been painfully slow. The siblings were stronger than normal people, but not by much.


    Without their lineage''s magical weapons and Blessing, they wouldn¡¯t be a threat, especially when compared to an actual player.


    Mathew¡¯s voice was too soft to carry to Nathaniel¡¯s ears. As he regained his feet, the young man was about to dash forward when the Demon Lord made a curious gesture with his finger. The throne, heavy and made of black wood and stone, hurtled from the ground towards him.


    Nathaniel leapt out of the way as the throne sped past him, landing on the ground with a crash. He let out a relieved breath of air. If he had been struck by that, it would have broken a bone at least. He spun around to see the Demon Lord flicking his fingers again, this time in the direction of his prone sister.


    The young woman shot toward Nathaniel with a strangled shriek at the rough treatment. Not thinking, Nathaniel dove toward her to catch Natisha in his arms. She struck him with the force of a hammer blow and he skidded across the ground with his sister gripped securely.


    Clap. Clap. Clap.


    ¡°Impressive. That¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve had the chance to try that Blessing on a person. It used to only work on inanimate objects, but it''s been improved since I first got it. It¡¯s also one of my less lethal Blessings.¡± Mathew said, stepping towards the siblings while his clapping echoed off the hall''s walls.


    ¡°But, that¡¯s enough playtime. You may leave Reesh with your lives. Tell your Lord that this area is mine now, and if he has a problem with it, I¡¯m more than happy to discuss it with him. Although I think the Lords and Ladies of this world will have more troubles than just me taking over this little backwater.¡± Mathew said, stopping in front of the siblings and crossing his arms.


    Nathaniel, who had been braced for a response to an attack that never came, stared at the Demon Lord in shock.


    ¡°You¡¯re willing to let us just leave? Wait¡­what troubles?¡± Nathaniel asked carefully, and Mathew smirked once again.


    ¡°Do you really think I¡¯m the only one of us to come here?¡± Mathew asked, and Nathaniel drew in a sharp intake of air at the revelation.


    The scriptures foretold the arrival of Demons, but Nathaniel had never expected it to happen during his lifetime. This single Demon Lord ¡®Mathew¡¯ easily defeated the siblings. What would happen if more joined him?


    Nathaniel had visions of an army of Demons rampaging across the world, and an icy feeling swept through his stomach.


    ¡°We¡¯ll stop you.¡± He managed to voice those words through jaws clenched in fear. Mathew made a gesture with his hand as if brushing the matter aside.


    ¡°Sure, go ahead. I¡¯m not confident in what the others will be like. People like me come from a variety of backgrounds. I¡¯ve no doubt you¡¯ll have your hands full in no time. I can be considered more¡­moderate, in my approach. You don¡¯t come looking for trouble with me, and I¡¯ll leave you alone in return. But the others, they will all have their own goals.¡± Mathew explained.


    The other Players may be working for other deities, but he couldn¡¯t be sure they had the same objective as himself. He wasn¡¯t even guaranteed that his own goals wouldn¡¯t change. For now, Reesh was his objective, but that could shift after it was declared to belong to him.


    ¡°Go, and carry word to your Lord that Reesh is mine.¡± Mathew dismissed them. With another flick of his finger, the toppled throne flew from where it had crashed earlier and landed on the platform where it belonged. Righting it slightly to align better with the angles of the dais, Mathew retook his seat.


    ¡°Demon Lord Mathew, our Grandfather will stop you. You have my word on that.¡± Nathaniel stated.


    ¡°Like I told Mayor Goodwin, I¡¯m not a ¡®Demon Lord,¡¯ but if that¡¯s what you want to call me, its fine. I¡¯ll accept the title as long as you remember that next time you come looking for problems in Reesh, I won¡¯t hold back.¡± Mathew said.


    ¡°Oh, and this belongs to me now as well.¡± Mathew stated. He crooked his finger, and the dagger in the young man¡¯s hand leapt out of his grasp and darted toward Mathew. Snatching it out of the air, he didn¡¯t even look at it before placing it in his inventory.


    If the young man was going to protest, he kept it to himself.


    In minutes, Nathaniel and his sister were gone, leaving Mathew alone once again. The Mayor had scurried off somewhere, but it didn¡¯t matter. Their business was over for the day. With this, he hoped that the notification that Reesh truly had been conquered would come.


    ¡°What else do I need to do.¡± Mathew muttered while resting his head on his hand. Two weeks of controlling the town still hadn¡¯t satisfied the Tower of Avarice. Did he need to write his name on every home or draw a circle around Reesh and yell to the heavens that it was his?


    Chuckling at the thought, Mathew was about to open his inventory to study the two weapons when a loud ¡®ding¡¯ rang out.


    ¡°Finally!¡± Mathew exclaimed.

 Chapter 85 – Floor 9: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 85</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 6


    Algrond, Lord of the Aeolian Lineage, stepped into the hall with a mixed sense of awe and dread.


    This was the meeting place of every Lord and Lady in their world, a hallowed and sacred ground where his father and hundreds of others had gathered to declare their war against the Demons. It had been a green field at that time, untouched by the hands of man.


    A grand hall had been constructed in the centuries since those righteous figures had assembled. Made of the finest marble and gilded in gold and silver, only Lords and Ladies could enter. The entire structure could only be reached by magical items left in their care to transport them to this sacred destination.


    Algrond had left his entourage outside, over three dozen of the most beautiful women from his territory. He couldn¡¯t bear to be alone on his travels; their presence was a comfort to him.


    The Lord of the Aeolian Lineage appeared to be a middle-aged man, still in the prime of life despite his nearly two centuries of age. His hair was long and dark, his face handsome and untouched by wrinkles or hardship.


    While his father had fought the Demons, Algrond had been too young to participate. To his great shame, he never had the opportunity to test himself against the Demons. But the gods had finally given him that opportunity. The endless days of boredom that came from ruling would finally be broken.


    His awe came from the wealth and beauty displayed by the hall, but the dread he felt came from the august company he soon found himself in. Hundreds of Lords and Ladies had convened for this assembly, some of whom had faced the original Demon Lords centuries ago.


    Algrond knew he was lacking compared to them, both in his standing and personal power. His territory was amongst the smallest, and he had never honed his skills against a worthy opponent. In their hierarchy, Algrond ranked amongst the lowest.


    ¡®They aren¡¯t better than me.¡¯ Algrond thought, trying to ignore the feeling if dread and inadequacy building within him. Their proclivities were known to him, and he used this knowledge to bolster his resolve.


    A Lord over there was known to indulge too freely in drink and revelry, while a mature Lady near the wall of the hall had over a dozen husbands, each dying under mysterious circumstances. Worse were those whose appetites were not even whispered for fear of bringing down their wrath.


    Stories of cannibalism, the deaths of entire towns in perverse displays for their Lord or Lady, bathing in blood to maintain their youth. Algrond had heard the rumours, and even he had shuddered at the images they brought to mind.


    Still, it is better for the populace to be ruled by them than by the Demons. His father had told him of what they were capable of. If it took the deaths or suffering of thousands to satiate these assembled Lords and Ladies and keep the realm safe, then it was a small price to pay.


    Algrond himself took pleasure in finding the most attractive women from amongst the lands he ruled as payment for his protection. It was his right as its Lord, and he saw nothing wrong with it. At least the women continued to live, unlike several of his neighbouring Lords and Ladies would have done.


    A loud bell rang out, echoing off the white walls of the hall. A feeling of anticipation followed the sound, and Algrond swiftly moved to stand with the others in two long rows at the end of the hall, as was proper for one of his statuses. When the ringing of the bell stopped, so did the shuffling of feet and the movement of the Lords and Ladies.


    An old woman stood before them at the far end of the hall, near the front where those with the greatest power and the largest territories had gathered. Matriarch, Chosen of the gods to lead them against the Demons centuries before. She was the oldest living human in the world; her age showed, despite elixirs and magic to regain her youth.


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    Matriarch wore long, white robes with the symbol of the gods on the front, a Tower wreathed in lightning. So powerful was she in mana that Algrond could feel it even from where he stood. It was like an ocean wave, ebbing and flowing like the tide and crashing over him.


    Algrond shivered at the feeling. He had heard that the life of a virgin was required as a sacrifice to the Matriarch to maintain her power. That without the lifeblood of such a person, she would wither and die. Her mana did have an oddity to it, a viciousness that tingled his skin as it washed over his flesh.


    ¡°Welcome, Lords and Ladies of the Sacred Lineages.¡± The Matriarch¡¯s voice carried clearly to the hundreds gathered, propelled by her mana.


    ¡°A time of great tribulation has arrived, as the gods have foretold. We must unite against the encroaching Demon Lords, who threaten to destroy the peace we have sacrificed so much to gain. Artemis, Lady of the Licarian Lineage.¡± The Matriarch gestured to another woman to her left.


    The Lady Artemis was younger than Algrond and had never faced the Demons in combat or even seen them in life. But she ruled the largest territory of them all, and it was said her mind was as sharp as a magical blade.


    She stepped forward and turned to look at the Lords and Ladies.


    ¡°Thirteen have come. Thirteen Demon Lords with the power to take what we have gained. Several of you have faced them already and have been forced to retreat. The gods are testing us, giving us an opportunity to grow and develop, as they did for others in centuries past. We will overcome this tribulation.¡± Artemis said, and Algrond nodded.


    ¡°Behold, the Thirteen Demon Lords. We have divined their strength relative to each other and ranked them accordingly. Learn all you can about your foes.¡± Artemis ordered as she waved her hand towards the air in front of her.


    Thirteen figures appeared above them, the magic of the Lady creating an illusionary image of the Demon Lords.


    They were men and women of various builds, ages and ethnicities. Algrond could see that Artemis had arranged them left to right from strongest to weakest. Although she had said they divined their strength in relation to each other, Algrond knew that they had no idea of their power compared to their own.


    Were these Demons as weak as he was amongst these Lords and Ladies, or stronger than even the Matriarch?


    ¡®We lack information.¡¯ Algrond thought.


    His attention was drawn to the last of the Demons, the weakest according to their divinations. Demon Lord Mathew. He was known as ¡®The Enduring¡¯ amongst Demonkind, a revelation brought to them by the gods.


    ¡®The Enduring managed to defeat Natisha and Nathaniel easily.¡¯ Algrond thought. His grandchildren were leagues below him in strength, their abilities akin to puppies beside a full-grown wolf. But still, the ease with which he had dispatched them had him worried, especially since Reesh was in his own territory.


    If Demon Lord Mathew was the weakest, how much stronger were the others?


    ¡°I would know your thoughts, Algrond of the Aeolian Lineage.¡± A soft voice spoke beside him. Turning, he found himself face to face with the Matriarch. She was silent for one so old and seemingly feeble. Obviously, a bluff used to keep others off guard. The Matriarch was as physically capable now as she ever was.


    ¡°Mathew the Enduring, the Thirteenth Demon Lord. He appeared in my territory and I sent my Grandchildren to face him. For a moment, I thought that he may have been a lost child of my Lineage. A byproduct of one of my¡­adventures.¡± Algrond admitted softly, and the Matriarch nodded at the admission.


    ¡°The Demons drape themselves in the flesh of humanity, but they are not similar to us, Algrond. The fact that he spared the siblings demonstrates that they have a much grander purpose here.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡± Algrond asked.


    ¡°To spread the word of their ¡®greatness.¡¯ The Demons of old would claim a territory and would not relinquish it until their death. I myself killed three of their kind.¡± The Matriarch explained, pride in her accomplishments clear in her voice.¡±


    ¡°And now they have returned. Thirteen is an inauspicious number. I fear I will not be up to the task required of me, Matriarch. This Demon Lord is within my borders. I will require assistance.¡± Algrond pleaded, his voice so soft that only the Matriarch could hear him.


    ¡°You will have all that you require. As your father fought, so too will you. And together, we will all grow stronger. Killing a Demon is a feeling unlike any other. The Aether is intoxicating, Algrond.¡± The Matriarch said, patting him gently on the shoulder before going to speak to one of the other Lords.


    Algrond looked back at the image of the young man, the Demon Lord of Reesh.


    ¡°The Enduring. I will put that name to the test.¡±

 Chapter 86 – Floor 9: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 86</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 7


    Ding!


    The notification from his wristband rang out, audible to only Mathew¡¯s ears. With it came the burning letters he had come to expect.


    ¡°Finally.¡± Mathew said, the noise interrupting his musings on what else he would need to do to accomplish his goal of conquering Reesh. If it had been any longer, he would have started to consider more drastic measures.


    The burning letters revealed Mathew¡¯s next steps.


    Congratulations on completing your objective. Reesh is now entirely under your control. The god of Mischievous Depravity has granted you a boon as a reward. A surprise is waiting for you in the town square.


    <u>The god of Mischievous Depravity hopes that you are pleased with their gift. </u>


    Mathew snorted out loud when he read that. A gift from this particular god was unlikely to be something he would want.


    ¡°I should be able to see the town square from here.¡± Mathew muttered as he walked to one of the large windows toward the front of the hall. Peering through a section of uncolored glass, he soon spotted the ¡®gift.¡¯


    It was a statue of him. Even from this distance, he could see that it towered over the buildings around it. A cluster of Townspeople were gathered around in, pointing and staring at the sudden appearance of the magnificent work of art.


    The ¡®Demon Lord Mathew¡¯ that was depicted on the statue was over twenty feet tall and wore long, flowing robes with a high collar and cloak that spread outwards as if he were in a breeze.


    In his right hand was a long sword; its handle was spiked at the end, and the blade was serrated and savage looking. His left palm was raised toward the sky, and a large, black flame burned there. Mathew watched as streaks of energy shot from the flames and exploded silently in the sky above.


    ¡°I like it.¡± Mathew whispered, knowing his feeling of satisfaction from watching the statue came from his Discipline.


    The god of Mischievous Depravity is satisfied with its work.


    The words faded, and Mathew let out a chuckle. Perhaps this god wouldn¡¯t be so terrible of a patron. Turning away from the window and its view of the gift, Mathew returned to his throne to peruse the next objective summary.


    Floor 9: Every Hero Needs a Villain


    Summary: You have drawn the attention of the Lords and Ladies of this land. But you are still only a small figure in their eyes, without renown or notoriety. A villain must be infamous, a Demon Lord dreaded.


    Objective:


    <ol>


    <li> Conquer the town of Reesh. </li>


    <li> Gain sufficient Reputation.</li>


    </ol>


    Current Reputation: (1/5000)


    Reputation can be earned through expanding the territory you hold, the population you rule, acts of violence/malevolence or tales of the same, or inspiring terror in humanity.


    Mathew closed the screen. He had no intention of terrorizing the populace of Reesh for an objective, nor did he intend to wage war against his neighbours to expand his borders. He may have the ¡®Villain¡¯ discipline, but he wasn¡¯t a monster.


    Unless¡­


    ¡°Mayor Goodwin.¡± Mathew called, using a small bit of his mana to carry his voice. It was a subtle trick he had learned on the battlefield against the fiends. It could cut through the din of war but was less effective when others surrounded him with mana. Still, it was useful for getting others'' attention without shouting himself hoarse.


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    The Mayor quickly reentered the room. While she seemed composed on the outside, Mathew spotted traces of her unease in her movements and a slight shaking of her hands. The Mayor was still terrified of him, and despite his efforts to put her at ease, she still expected the worst from him.


    ¡°Mayor Goodwin, tell me about the surrounding lands. I know of several other settlements nearby, but are there any other areas of interest?¡± Mathew asked, leaning back on his throne and crossing his legs comfortably.


    He had to admit, the items purchased from the shop were terrific. This throne wasn¡¯t magical and only cost a few thousand Aether, but the cushions were comfortable enough for him to spend hours without an issue.


    Mathew had outfitted the entire mansion with his remaining Aether from the cube he had crushed. It hadn¡¯t been enough for him to purchase a level, and the shop hadn¡¯t had any magical items or Blessings of interest, so it hadn¡¯t felt like a waste.


    Mayor Goodwin licked her lips nervously, a brief action that spoke of her discomfort at being asked about the area.


    ¡®She likely thinks I¡¯m about to enslave or destroy the neighbouring settlements.¡¯ Mathew thought.


    ¡°Eastridge and Beverly are the two closest villages. I¡¯m sure they can be convinced to join you, Demon Lord Mathew if I can have an opportunity to speak with their Mayors. There is no need for you to take action against them.¡± Mayor Goodwin explained a note of desperation in her tone.


    Mathew waved away the statement.


    ¡°Very well. What else exists aside from those villages.¡± Mayor Goodwin let out a sigh of relief, no doubt thinking that she had just saved the people in those towns from the Demon Lord¡¯s visit. Little did she know that Mathew had no intention of forcing anyone to join his territory.


    They would come on their own.


    Mayor Goodwin thought for a moment. A frown creased her forward as she contemplated.


    ¡°There are the old mines to the north. My husband used to trade silver from those mines before it closed, and he passed. We had petitioned Lord Algrond to clear them out so we could reopen them, but it''s been a few decades and nothing has come of it.¡± Mayor Goodwin clarified.


    ¡°Clear them out?¡± Mathew asked, curious.


    ¡°They are infested by spiders. Giant monsters the size of horses.¡± Goodwin responded, shivering at the thought of the creatures.


    ¡°Interesting. A silver mine could bring renewed prosperity to Reesh.¡± Mathew¡¯s voice trailed off.


    ¡°There are also the fishing grounds downriver, where it meets the sea. We used to be able to fish it freely before a group of vagabonds moved in and started to charge a tax.¡± Goodwin added.


    ¡°And the Reeve didn¡¯t remove them?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°No, he received part of the payments. It got to be too much, but I know Eastridge and Beverly still pay it.¡±


    ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll see to clearing out the mines and driving off these ¡®vagabonds.¡¯ Make inroads with those villages; inform them of how happy you are with me protecting Reesh.¡± Mathew jested, although his tone made him seem serious to the Mayor.


    Mathew had no doubts that the villagers were terrified of him.


    ¡°You will?¡± Mayor Goodwin asked, shocked as the Demon Lords orders. The young man was getting off his throne and walking toward the door of the mansion before she had recovered enough to speak.


    ¡°It won¡¯t take long. You can tell them that I have taken care of it. Let me know how they respond; I¡¯ll be back by nightfall.¡± Mathew said, waving his hand in dismissal as he left.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The area smelled like burnt hair and smoke as the fires slowly died down. Mathew kicked away one of the large corpses of the giant spiders that were infesting the mine. His enhanced body stat let him easily flick away the body, and it landed on its back with its legs curled.


    ¡°Disgusting.¡± Mathew grumbled.


    The ground was littered with bones and the remnants of humans and animals that had been taken to feed the colony of spiders. He hadn¡¯t even entered the mines yet, only the surface where the trees broke, and the ground sloped upwards towards a large hill.


    A track had been worn into the ground, but years of growth had meant that it was mostly obscured. With his '' Summon Flames '' Blessing, he had been forced to burn away the webbing that blocked the trail, and the spiders that were hiding there.


    After his time with the Fiends, he had forgotten how effective it was. The Fiends had unfortunately been immune to fire and heat, relegating that Blessing to uselessness.


    The opening to the mine was in front of him now, the turning path twisted downwards into darkness. He could hear a clicking noise from within, a telltale sign that something was still alive in there.


    ¡®Well, not for long.¡¯ Mathew thought. Snapping his fingers, he created another bonfire, this one so large that it filled the entrance to the mine. Mathew could see dim shadows moving through the roaring flames, fearful of the flames but ready to fight to keep him out of the mine.


    Pulling out a large jar of oil from his inventory, a remnant from one of the first Floors he had been on, Mathew catapulted through the fire and into the mine and waited for the resulting ¡®whoosh¡¯ of its ignition.


    He wasn¡¯t disappointed.

 Chapter 87 – Floor 9: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 87</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 8


    ¡°Mystic Bolt.¡± Mathew stated, following up the words with a sharp jab of his finger. A streak of of energy shot across the darkness between him and the Spider Queen.


    The Mystic Bolt burned a hole through one of the creature''s legs and buried itself into its body. The monster shrieked with rage and pain, but Mathew was already following up the attack with a snap of his fingers.


    Tall bonfires sprang into existence to surround the spider and Mathew used his willpower and abundant mana to direct the pillars of fire to collapse upon the trapped creature. It struggled and screamed, only stopping its cries when Mathew fired another Mystic Bolt into it, silencing the monster forever.


    Flicking his finger, Mathew smothered the flames and returned the chamber to darkness.


    He was deep beneath the earth; the mines had been a confusing mess of twisting corridors and spider webs. It had taken him nearly an hour to reach this point, the deepest section of the mine and the Spider Queen¡¯s lair.


    Mathew could feel the weight of the stone above him. It might have unnerved him in the past, but he had been in worse places than this. The ground around him was littered with the bones of dead animals, a few humans, and some other objects whose origins he couldn¡¯t identify.


    Scattered tools and mine carts spoke to the chamber¡¯s history, and Mathew suspected that the miners fled in a hurry if they discarded such valuable equipment in their haste.


    Mathew breathed in deeply; the spicy smell of Aether had been collecting as he cleared the mine. It had led him deeper, seeming to swirl and focus around the Spider Queen. It had even pushed aside the scent of smoke and burning flesh from his efforts, so strong was the Aether here.


    ¡®Ding.¡¯


    The familiar sound rang out, and Mathew checked his silver wristband curiously.


    Gained one (1) Reputation point.


    Current Reputation 2/5000


    Mathew let out a snort over the notification. All that work, and he had only gained a single point of reputation? He felt slightly cheated.


    ¡®Maybe there was something here amongst the debris to make it worth my while?¡¯ Mathew thought before he was interrupted by the Aether swirling madly around him. It was coalescing, and the slightly blue haze curled around his legs as it rushed past.


    In moments, a small cube of crystallized Aether shone brightly on the ground beside the corpse of the Spider Queen. Picking it up, Mathew could feel the warmness of the object in his hand.


    ¡°One hundred thousand units. Not bad at all.¡± Mathew muttered, raising the cube to eye level for a better look. It wasn¡¯t enough to purchase anything special, nor could he get a new level out of it. But as a reward, it wasn¡¯t anything to scoff at.


    Especially if he puts it to good use in Reesh.


    ¡°I wonder¡­ If I clear that camp of vagabonds, will the reward be the same?¡± Mathew thought out loud. He needed to gain a reputation anyway, and the gains in Aether he was receiving from Reesh were a paltry amount at the moment.


    Better to kill two birds with one stone.


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    Tucking the Aether cube into his inventory, Mathew left the mine.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    After a shorter period of time than what it took to descend the mine, Mathew was back under the open sky once again. The clouds had cleared, and the sun was high above him. It hadn¡¯t rained in the past few days, and the weather was warm.


    It was rather pleasant. He had nearly forgotten how nice a Floor could be when it wasn¡¯t dead, dry and filled with Fiends. Mathew was enjoying his time on the Ninth Floor. He could admit that to himself, especially after playing the role of ¡®Villain.¡¯


    ¡°Now, Goodwin said the Vagabond was downriver, near the sea.¡± Mathew spoke to himself. Judging the direction by the sun, Mathew looked toward the south-east. It had taken him an hour to walk to the mine, so it would likely be at least an hour or two to reach the camp.


    ¡°I should have thought of this sooner.¡± Mathew grumbled as he opened the shop and his inventory. Pulling the cube of Aether, he had just received from his inventory, he absently cracked it in his hand as he perused the shop for a method of transportation.


    ¡°Ah! This will work.¡± Mathew exclaimed, his eyes landing on a simple magical object. It wasn¡¯t anything unique; in fact, it only cost fifty thousand Aether. Purchasing it, Mathew held out his hand for the item as it materialized and landed in his palm.


    It was a statue of a horse. Made of obsidian, the object was so detailed that it seemed to be lifelike. Mathew could imagine the small horse galloping and moving. He could feel the Aether within it, waiting to be used.


    Mathew placed the small horse figurine on the ground at his feet and stood once more.


    ¡°Grow, Midnight.¡± Mathew called the name of the horse as it had been described in the Shop. He had seen other players using similar items, small magical figurines of horses, camels or even flying ships. Mathew had chosen one of the cheapest items to ride since it was only a short trip.


    A swirl of mana erupted around the figurine, and it swiftly grew to the size of a real horse. Shining black, Midnight pawed at the ground with its hoof, and Mathew admired the craftsmanship of the item. It looked as real as any horse he had ever seen and even came with a saddle and bridle.


    Better than all that, this horse would never tire or require any care on his part. Despite its appearance, it was still a statue after all.


    Mathew climbed awkwardly onto the horse. He had never ridden before; he was from Manhattan! He didn¡¯t even know how to drive a car, let alone ride a horse. At least the magical item had a mind of its own and he wouldn¡¯t need any skill to direct it.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go to that Vagabond Camp, Midnight.¡± Mathew ordered, and the horse took off through the trees, with him gripping the reins tightly.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Anything?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. Looks like it''s going to be another lean week.¡± The reply came.


    On the edge of the river was a camp with wooden palisades and a collection of huts and tents. What had started as a temporary encampment a few years before had grown. It had started with a group of bandits travelling across the territory, accosting local settlements for food and money before moving on.


    They had never taken enough to cause the Lords and Ladies to send a force after them, and they were careful not to linger in a place well protected. Like all the other locations they had been, this encampment was only meant to last for a few weeks.


    Until they had an interesting offer from the local Reeve. They could collect a ¡®tax¡¯ on the river and split it with him. In return, they could stay as long as they wanted. It had been beneficial to both sides, and the arrangement had lasted a couple years.


    But, it seemed like they had finally fished this pond empty. The locals were poorer than dirt and they hadn¡¯t had much luck the last few months. It didn¡¯t help that the camp expanded from a dozen people to over a hundred.


    Still, they had a few options left.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to hit Reesh, then move north from there.¡± One of the Bandits said, looking at a map in his tent while several of his friends gathered around. They hadn¡¯t heard from the Reeve in a while, it was likely the bastard was going to sell them out soon since they couldn¡¯t pay him off.


    ¡°Great, we can stock up on potatoes and rags.¡± Another commented sarcastically, causing a few others to laugh.


    ¡°And shit. That place is full of it.¡± Someone added. The Bandit boss nodded and grinned at the joke.


    ¡°We¡¯ll take everything that isn¡¯t nailed down. I know someone in Ackleby who is looking for ¡®Labour¡¯ and he doesn¡¯t care where it comes from. We¡¯ll get a few silver from the good ones, but kill the rest. We aren¡¯t looking to feed and clothe them if they ain¡¯t worth shit.¡± The Boss ordered.


    ¡°We get to have some fun, right? He just wants them for slaves, it don¡¯t matter if I have a go?¡± Another asked, and the Boss nodded. He was about to speak when one of the lookouts rushed in.


    ¡°Rider coming.¡± The bandit scout reported.


    ¡°The Reeve?¡± Boss asked, and the scout shrugged.


    ¡°I think so? He¡¯s the only one with a horse around here, ain¡¯t he?¡±

 Chapter 88 – Floor 9: Part 9

    <u>Chapter 88</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 9


    The rider entered their camp on the darkest horse the bandits had ever seen. Even the light of the setting sun couldn¡¯t touch its fur; the blackness absorbed every trace and didn¡¯t reflect a single bit.


    It moved across the ground as if gliding, but strangely, it left no tracks in its wake, as if they were watching a ghost or spirit instead of a physical being.


    ¡°Oi! That ain¡¯t the Reeve!¡± The boss shouted as soon as he left his hut. The man coming into their camp was clearly a young man, handsome and strangely dressed but as different from the Reeve as night and day.


    ¡°Not everyday someone comes into our camp looking to get robbed.¡± Laughed one of the men, and Boss grinned at the possibility. That horse must be worth a fortune; who else knew what the young man had on his to match it?


    The rider slowed as he approached them, coming to a stop inside the circle of huts and tents. He had a red scarf around his mouth and nose to keep the dust away, but the Boss could see cold, hard blue eyes study them for a moment.


    ¡°Alright, off the horse! It belongs to us now.¡± The Boss ordered. Several of the men raised their spears and pointed them at the young man while they walked toward him. Unconcerned, the young man lowered the piece of cloth around his face and climbed down from the horse¡¯s back.


    ¡°You¡¯re the bandits that have been collecting a tax from this part of the river?¡± The young man asked, and the Boss laughed at the question.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got balls, I¡¯ll give you that. You ride in here, asking questions when you should be worried about what we¡¯re going to do with you. Just who do you think you are?¡± The Boss retorted.


    The young man smiled at the question.


    ¡°I¡¯m a Demon Lord.¡±


    The words had no sooner left the young man¡¯s mouth than a darkness descended upon the camp. A miasma of death and destruction that robbed the breath from their lungs. The earth rumbled and groaned while the air was filled with the sound of screaming and the dirge of dead souls longing for release.


    The Boss fell to his knees, the heaviness weighed down on him like stone, and he couldn¡¯t move at all. The young man, who seemed so unassuming and normal a moment ago, took a step forward, and as he did so, his entire demeanour changed.


    The young man grew larger and more demonic. His head brushed the clouds above them; his footsteps shook the earth. The darkness wreathed him like a cloak; he held fire in one hand and the souls of the dead in the other.


    The Boss panted, desperately trying to regain his breath. A Demon Lord stood before him, and he was as helpless as a child. A man who could fight against the knights of Lords and Ladies was nothing compared to this demonic entity amongst them.


    ¡°Your lives belong to me.¡± The Demon Lord spoke, and each word was painful to their ears. The Boss couldn¡¯t look up anymore. He squeezed his eyes tightly together and prayed that his end would be swift and painless.


    ¡°You will serve my needs to the exclusion of all else. I am your world now. You live to fulfill my desires.¡± The Demon Lord said, and the Boss hurt his neck from the quickness with which he nodded. He bowed forward, pressing his forehead against the dirt as he yelled that he would serve with all his being.


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    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew watched the hundred or so bandits kneeling on the ground with satisfaction. The ¡®Fear¡¯ Blessing worked wonders on crowds, especially when they were so much weaker than him. It was enjoyable to listen to them shout that they were willing to serve him, each trying to top the others with their eagerness to please.


    He didn¡¯t feel like what he was doing was wrong in any way. Even if he wasn¡¯t a ¡®Villain,¡¯ these men deserved what was happening to them. They were robbers and thieves, murderers and scoundrels. At least this way, they would be of some use.


    If they weren¡¯t willing to serve him, he would have been forced to kill them all to prevent them from causing trouble in his territory or those of his neighbours.


    It was much better this way.


    After listening to them drone on for a few more minutes, Mathew ended the effects of ¡®Fear.¡¯ He watched them come back to their senses, and a few of the more courageous ones even sneak peeks at him through eyes reddened by tears of terror.


    ¡°I have specially marked each of you.¡± Mathew lied. It was only a small fib; he didn¡¯t have a way to keep track of them, but they didn¡¯t know that.


    ¡°If you try to flee or disobey me, it will be very¡­agonizing for you.¡± Mathew threatened and saw the renewed fear his words caused the men.


    ¡°You will pack your things and travel to Reesh to become my new Guard. I expect you all to be there by nightfall. Mayor Goodwin is my steward and will be giving you your orders. You will listen to her as you would me.¡± Mathew ordered.


    Climbing back on his horse, Mathew took a last look at the kneeling men before urging Midnight to leave. He was soon racing across the ground, the camp disappearing into the distance behind him.


    He returned to Reesh in less than half an hour; Midnight¡¯s swiftness made the distance trivial. When he dismounted in front of his mansion, he held out his hand, and the magic left the horse. Returning to its stone statue form, it floated into Mathew¡¯s hand, where he placed it back into his inventory.


    Walking into the hall, he was greeted by another ¡®Ding¡¯ from his wristband.


    Gained one (1) Reputation point.


    Current Reputation 3/5000


    Mathew let out a sigh. It was going to take a while to reach five thousand reputation points. But he wasn¡¯t in a hurry; this Floor seemed as good a place as any to take a break for a little while.


    And he had to admit, he had fun clearing the mines and dominating that bandit camp. Maybe he could accomplish a few more chores in the coming days.


    Thinking about his options and future, Mathew went to his throne and made himself comfortable.


    It wasn¡¯t long before the Vagabonds entered the town.  Mayor Goodwin, whom the Demon Lord had warned of the imminent arrival of his new Guard, greeted them at the outskirts of the village. She had arranged a small house for the Boss, along with uniforms for each of the men.


    The Demon Lord provided the garb in black with a silver symbol embroidered on the front. The symbol was of an apple, a strange image for a Demon Lord. When Mayor Goodwin first saw it, Mathew had been chuckling over the clothing he had pulled out of his ¡®inventory.¡¯


    ¡°It¡¯s a symbol of my home, Manhattan.¡± Demon Lord Mathew had explained. He had purchased one hundred sets from somewhere called the ¡®Shop,¡¯ but didn¡¯t elaborate further. Passing them out to the Guard, she warned them that the Demon Lord was not someone to cross and that they would be expected to serve him properly.


    She wasn¡¯t sure what Mathew had done to these hardened men, but each of them nodded, thanked her for the uniform and swore they would never offend the Demon Lord.


    As the weeks turned to months, Reesh underwent a transformation. The muddy roads were replaced with stone slabs. The huts and ramshackle buildings were enlarged and reinforced. It wasn''t uncommon to see a new brick house being constructed, along with new shops and a flourishing market.


    Fishermen had new boats at the dock and, with the expanded fleet, were taking journeys far down the river and out to sea.


    There was an air of stability and safety in Reesh, which had been absent before the Demon Lords arrived. But as safe and secure as the town was, people still watched the mansion on the hill warily. They had seen the terrifying figure that dwelt there come into town on occasion to enforce the law.


    As large as a mountain and as dreaded as a moonless night, the people here feared and respected Demon Lord Mathew, known as the Enduring. And soon, as the weeks turned to months, tales of other Demon Lords reached Reesh.

 Chapter 89 – Floor 9: Part 10

    <u>Chapter 89</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 10


    The Thirteenth Demon Lord. Mathew the Enduring.


    Yule had heard tales of him during her time with the Cathedral of Knowledge, the faithful adherents to the god of Accumulated Understanding. Unlike other groups involved in the world''s politics and battles, their order was dedicated to collecting knowledge and chronicling their world''s events.


    Her ancestors had even been amongst those who wrote the story of the defeat of the first Demon Lords hundreds of years before. It was part of why Yule was selected for this particular task.


    The young woman stared at the town of Reesh in the distance. She had heard that it was a small backwater hamlet a year before, but that image couldn¡¯t enter her mind when she saw what it was today.


    Tens of thousands of people lived here in a town constructed of stone quarried from the hills nearby. The river teemed with fishing boats and ships used for trade. The market in the center of town was bustling with people, but the statue at the heart of Reesh caught Yule¡¯s attention.


    It showed the Demon Lord Mathew, who ruled Reesh with an iron fist. His word was law and enforced through his demonic strength and army of black-coated thugs. But, unlike what Yule expected, Reesh seemed peaceful.


    She had heard that the Demon Lords controlled their territory in different ways, their methods as different from each other as the stars in the sky, but Demon Lord Mathew had clearly defined laws that everyone adhered to. While strong and rough-looking, his army did not step a single foot out of line.


    Reesh was peaceful and controlled, but there was a sense of fear in the town that emanated from the large mansion on a hill overlooking the city.


    Yule made her way through the streets, marvelling at how clean everything was. People chatted on street corners while merchants plied their trade in stalls or shops. She saw goods from all over the world, likely brought here by the ships berthed in the long, stone docks that stretched out into the wide river.


    Sword- and spear-carrying town guards, wearing black clothing with red and gold apples on the breasts of their jackets, watched the populace, ready for any sign of trouble. But, to her surprise, they didn¡¯t accost anyone. They were more disciplined than she expected.


    The red and gold apple was a strange symbol for a Demon Lord, and no one had been able to parse its meaning. Each Demon Lord was defined by some aspect or symbol that represented them. Aster, the twelfth Demon Lord, used a crossed sword and spear against a field of gold as her symbol. In comparison, several of the others had various animals or objects.


    But an apple was a mystery to Yule.


    Ignoring the looks the guard gave her, probably due to her pristine white robes trimmed in blue with a large book on the back to indicate her adherence to the god of Accumulated Understanding, Yule passed under the massive statue that dominated the heart of Reesh.


    Even now, during the middle of the day, the black flame the Demon Lord Mathew held in his hand flickered with life. He made both an inspiring and terrifying figure. But all statues were created to serve that purpose. She doubted the real Mathew would be like it.


    While claiming to be powerful and superhuman, the Demon Lords were often as mortal as the people they conquered. At least, that was what the chronicle said.


    She couldn¡¯t help feeling apprehension and nervous while approaching the large mansion. The path to the front entrance was lined with guards holding large halberds, while gardens and flowerbeds had been planted nearby. Filled with exotic plants and flowers, Yule couldn¡¯t help admiring them.


    Finally, she was stopped on the precipice to seeing Mathew, the Thirteenth Demon Lord.


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    ¡°And you must be our chronicler, come to document Lord Mathew¡¯s rise.¡± An older woman said as she stepped out from the darkened entrance to the manner and into the bright summer sun.


    She was middle-aged, and her dark hair showed signs of grey. She wore a long, black dress with a thick shawl over her shoulders that bore the Silver Apple on the side. Mayor Goodwin was a familiar name to Yule. The Demon Lord¡¯s first follower, she was responsible for much of the work being done in Reesh.


    Of course, the Lords and Ladies cursed her as a traitor, but Yule admired the woman. She hadn¡¯t much of a choice but to follow when a Demon Lord appeared in her town. Against the might of such a person like Mathew, you could do nothing more but bow your head and obey.


    ¡°I am Yule, of the Cathedral of Knowledge.¡± Yule replied, bowing to the other woman. Her long, brown hair fell in front of her face, obscuring it for a moment as she bent over. Goodwin studied her for a moment before nodding.


    ¡°Very well. Lord Mathew is expecting you. You¡¯ve arrived just in time; the Demon Lords will be gathering in a few days to discuss the campaign against the Lords and Ladies of Lineage.¡± Mayor Goodwin explained, and Yule felt a thrill of excitement.


    A gathering of the thirteen Demon Lords! She had heard tales of the exploits of the Demon against the Lords and Ladies. Mathew himself had fought Lord Algrond and several of his allies outside of Reesh a handful of times, with the Lords withdrawing unsuccessfully.


    But Mathew was said to be the weakest of the Demons, while Algrond and those with him were only minor Lords and Ladies. The true conflict was approaching swiftly, everything else could be considered skirmishes or attempts to test the abilities of the other side.


    Yule didn¡¯t know much about Demon Lord Mathew¡¯s abilities; the conflict between him and Lord Algrond had taken place in a secluded forest outside of Reesh. Rumours told of a fire so intense that it could be seen in the night sky from a hundred miles away, and the sound of explosions shook the ground for an entire day.


    She had passed the spot on her way into Reesh a few hours ago. The land was scarred in places, and the forest hadn¡¯t recovered much in the months since the battle occurred; she could still find evidence of the conflict that spoke of the terrible magics unleashed there.


    Algrond had withdrawn, with only minor injuries, according to the other Chroniclers, but Mathew had returned to Reesh unscathed. The Enduring was a fitting title for the Demon Lord. A Lord or Lady of Lineage, even a minor one, could destroy a city.


    ¡®How strong was Demon Lord Mathew?¡¯ Yule wondered as she followed Mayor Goodwin through the entrance and into a large vestibule. Passing through a set of wooden double doors intricately carved with fanciful designs, she entered a massive hall that housed the Demon Lord''s throne.


    Yule was left speechless by the atmosphere inside.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew sat on his throne and studied his status screen intently. He had been doing the same for weeks, wracked with indecision on what he should do with his accumulated Aether.


    He had amassed several million units of Aether, and he wasn¡¯t sure whether he should spend them on new Blessings, level ups or upgrades to Reesh. His gut instinct was to save them, to hoard them for now until a clear need for it arose.


    Part of the reason for his hesitation was from the revelation Lord Algrond had delivered to him. The Lords and Ladies of this land had a way of assessing and ranking the power of the Demon Lords. He wasn¡¯t sure how accurate it was, whether they just looked purely by the Player''s level, Blessings or amassed Aether.


    What he did know what that Demon Lord Mathew the Enduring was ranked Thirteenth and that afforded him some protection. As the ¡®weakest¡¯ Demon Lord, he had a much smaller target on his back than the other Players. At this point, only Algrond and a few other minor lords had bothered him.


    The fight outside of Reesh had been an entertaining and valuable experience for Mathew. He learned that he could handle a dozen minor Lords and Ladies at once, giving him a good idea of where he stood against the locals here.


    But if one of the more powerful Lords or Ladies of the Lineage came, even alone, Mathew wasn¡¯t sure what would happen. Thankfully, they were much more focused on some of the more powerful Players to the far east of Reesh.


    He was both the weakest and the most isolated of the ¡®Demon Lords.¡¯ And that was exactly where he wanted to be. So, he resisted the temptation to use his Aether and waited.


    While he was perusing the Shop, Mayor Goodwin and a young woman dressed in long white robes entered the hall. With brown hair and pale skin, she gave off a scholarly feeling when matched with her glasses and the satchel hanging from her side with papers poking out of it.


    ¡°Demon Lord Mathew. This is Yule from the Cathedral of Knowledge. She had come to chronicle your achievements.¡± Goodwin introduced and Mathew banished the screen lazily as he reclined on his throne.


    ¡°Yule. The god of Accumulated Understanding has arranged for your presence here. They have clarified that it is my responsibility to ensure your safety and not impede your work.¡± Mathew explained, his tone mildly irritated at the last part.


    The god had sent him a message a week before. Rather than offering a reward, the god had used the threat of a punishment Floor if any harm should come to their Chronicler.


    ¡®They could have just offered me a bonus.¡¯ Mathew thought as he waited for Yule to respond.

 Chapter 90 – Floor 9: Part 11

    <u>Chapter 90</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 11


    ¡°I thank the god of Accumulated Understanding for this opportunity, Demon Lord Mathew.¡± Yule replied, bowing her head low.


    ¡°Goodwin will see to it that rooms are provided in the mansion for your use. Aside from that, you are to have unrestricted access to me at all times. I wouldn¡¯t want your chronicle to miss out on some juicy tidbit. Heaven forefend.¡± Mathew joked, and Yule started at the statement. His causal blasphemy against the gods would take some getting used to.


    ¡°Take your time to get settled. We will be travelling to the convention in a few hours.¡± Mathew ordered, and Goodwin stepped forward from where she stood beside Mathew¡¯s throne.


    ¡°Your rooms are above.¡± Goodwin stated, motioning to a servant to take the Chronicler away. No sooner than her white robes were no longer visible did the Mayor turn to the Demon Lord with questions.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why it is necessary to allow her around you. What if she finds out something she shouldn¡¯t and tells the Lords and Ladies of the Lineage about it?¡± Goodwin asked with concern. Her fate was tied to Mathew¡¯s now. If he fell, she would likely suffer for serving him.


    ¡°She won¡¯t. I¡¯ve been assured that she won¡¯t do anything but write a chronicle for the Cathedral. It won¡¯t be shared with anyone. Besides, even the other Demon Lords have agreed to it. As the weakest of their members, how could I say no when they have allowed it?¡± Mathew clarified.


    ¡°Now, everything is prepared. Reesh will be in good hands while I¡¯m away, Goodwin. I have complete confidence in you. But if something does happen, that statue out there is for more than just show. Just ask it for help, and you¡¯ll be safe until I come back.¡± Mathew said.


    The gift from the god of Mischievous Depravity had a secondary function. It could come to life to defend Reesh for a short period of time. Mathew doubted if it could defeat any of the local Lords or Ladies; it seemed to be pretty weak, but it would be enough to buy some time for him to come back.


    ¡°It will be as you say, Demon Lord Mathew.¡± Goodwin replied, bowing deeper than Yule had.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Ready?¡± Mathew asked, looking at the young, white-robed woman beside him.


    Yule had a small book open in her hands with a beautiful, golden pen ready to make notes. He had questioned her about her writing, and she had told him she would be making shorthand notes during her travels with him and would flesh them out after she returned.


    The Chronicler looked up from her notepad at the question. Blinking her eyes in surprise, she stared at the portal that had suddenly appeared in the throne room.


    Glowing a bright and angry red, the portal was a result of an item from the shop that one of the other Demon Lords had purchased. Mathew wasn¡¯t sure what the item was; it hadn¡¯t been available to him, but it worked by burning through tens of thousands of Aether per trip.


    While another Demon Lord had bought the item in order to facilitate this convention of Players, Mathew had spent the Aether to open this side of it.


    Situated in the center of his throne room¡¯s hall, the portal reflected back an image of Mathew and Yule rather than whatever lay on the other side. In any other situation, Mathew would be wary of a portal whose exit he couldn¡¯t see, but the god of Mischievous Depravity had assured him it was safe.


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    ¡°I am ready, Demon Lord Mathew.¡± Yule responded, and Mathew let out a sigh.


    ¡°Just Mathew.¡±


    Mathew entered the portal without waiting for a response from the Chronicler about his preferred title. The mirrorlike surface of the gateway washed over him like icy water. The chill was followed by a blast of heat, like entering a furnace, before he exited into a warm, comfortable environment once again.


    A few specks of ash struck the shoulders of Mathew¡¯s black jacket, a lingering effect of the portal, and he brushed them away casually. Before he took stock of his surroundings, Mathew turned to the portal and waited for Yule to follow.


    Seconds later, Yule stumbled out of the portal. Wavering on her feet, she nearly fell before Mathew grabbed her. Her skin was flushed as if she had been sunburned, but she was shivering from the cold.


    The Portal, which had been only a minor irritation to Mathew with his high level and stats, had been devasting to the mundane Yule.


    ¡°Shit. Hold on.¡± Mathew said, pulling up his inventory and taking a potion from within. Popping the cork, he forced the red liquid between Yule¡¯s parched and chapped lips. Her skin returned to its normal paleness in seconds, and her shivers ceased.


    ¡°Better?¡± Mathew asked with concern. He hadn¡¯t thought if the portal would affect someone not hardened and enhanced from the Tower of Avarice. Yule nodded as she regained her feet. Mathew handed her another potion.


    ¡°Here. Take this if you don¡¯t feel well. I¡¯ll have to do something for the return trip. Maybe the shop will have something to help¡­¡± Mathew¡¯s voice trailed off as he thought about it. Yule thanked him and pocketed the elixir.


    The Chronicles spoke of the magical abilities and wonderful potions of the Demon Lords. They were capable of healing anything short of death. But there was a difference between reading about something and experiencing it herself.


    The Portal had been terrible. She had seen Mathew enter it without concern, and she had never imagined how different it would be for her!


    It felt like being plunged into the depths of the ocean during winter; the cold chilled her to her bones. But, the heat on her skin burned like fire. It was the strangest and most painful feeling she had ever experienced.


    But Demon Lord Mathew was unscathed as if he had walked through an open doorway on a spring day.


    ¡®Was the gulf between him and humans that wide?¡¯ Yule thought, furiously writing notes in her book without a single look at where the Portal had deposited them.


    Seeing that the Chronicler was fine, Mathew turned his attention to their location.


    They were in a wide, stone plaza. The floor was made of slate, set in a circle with trees surrounding it. Flowers made nice, tidy rows in concentric rings to break up the endless grey. The air was filled with the singing of birds, and Mathew enjoyed the sound of the wind rustling the leaves.


    He had missed that during his time on the Seventh Floor, and he breathed in the refreshing atmosphere with delight. Whoever had selected the venue had his respect and admiration.


    There was something else layered on top of everything here. A faint spicy scent of Aether and the swirling energy of mana. This was a magical location. Someone had spent a lot of effort to construct this for their needs, and he suspected that a Player had used the shop to achieve it.


    ¡°Ready?¡± Mathew asked, turning to look at the young woman. Yule¡¯s pen slowed, marking a final note on the page before closing the book.


    Mathew led the way forward; the sun shone brightly directly above them. It had been late in the day in Reesh, so he knew they had travelled quite far if the position of the sun had changed so drastically. Several of the Demon Lords were to the west of Reesh, giving Mathew a hint of who¡¯s domain they were now in.


    He had been on this Floor for a year now, and the title of ¡®Demon Lord¡¯ barely phased him anymore. He knew what he truly was, and his purpose here.


    ¡®Clear away the rot.¡¯ Mathew thought, looking around the plaza for any other arrivals. A set of stairs on the far side of the circle led them to a pavilion overlooking a valley. The banks were green with trees, and a waterfall created a beautiful rainbow set perfectly against the walls of the Pavilion.


    Mathew could hear music playing and the sound of conversation. As he neared the ground, he could see that the Pavilion was filled with people. Two dozen others waited for him. Half were wearing similar outfits as Yule, white-robed men and women who would be there to chronicle the event.


    While the others were his fellow Demon Lords. Six men and an equal amount of women, all titled ¡®Lord.¡¯


    Mathew felt a small thrill of excitement. He hadn¡¯t spoken to another Player in a while, and he found himself looking forward to it.


    Later, when the meeting concluded, Mathew cursed himself for a fool. He should have known that anyone willing to accept the ¡®Demon Lord¡¯ title wouldn¡¯t be easy to chat with.

 Chapter 91 – Floor 9: Part 12

    <u>Chapter 91</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 12


    Yule felt an overriding sense of trepidation and nervousness as she descended the stairs leading to the pavilion. In front of her, Demon Lord Mathew seemed unfazed by the mana in the air. But to Yule, it felt like she was entering into the midst of a tempest of energies.


    There was a swirling of mana around Mathew that she hadn¡¯t been aware of until she had come close to the young man. It had been absent from the throne room; most likely, he had deliberately retracted his power to stop Goodwin and herself from being overwhelmed.


    But here, in this place, Mathew¡¯s powers were on full display to the chronicler.


    It felt like an electric current was passing over her exposed skin, static energy that created goosebumps. Even her hair was rising on its ends. The strands moved despite the absence of any wind.


    With each step she took toward the pavilion, the feeling worsened. The energies of the Demon Lords clashed and merged, invisible joining and battles that could only be felt by the weak humans that were permitted in their presence.


    Yule resisted the urge to make notes. As much as she wanted to document this phenomenon, she didn¡¯t want to take her eyes off the approaching scene. Everything she experienced here would be burned into her memories, and she would never forget this momentous occasion.


    She could recognize the other chronicles that accompanied the Demon Lords. Men and women of the Cathedral of Knowledge with decades more experience than herself. She was the youngest here, her position was earned through dedication and hard work.


    Looking away from the white-robed figures that were sprinkled throughout the Pavilion, Yule studied Mathew carefully as he exited the staircase and entered the Pavilion.


    ¡°Finally! I thought you were never going to arrive, Larson.¡± One of the Demon Lords called out, a young woman wearing a long, black leather coat with silver buckles. Her dark brown hair was pulled up into a bun, and she had a grin on her face as she approached Mathew.


    Yule thought that the young woman was going to embrace Mathew, and to her shock, she slapped him hard on the shoulder. The force of the blow gave Yule pause; it was hard enough that it would have no doubt knocked her down and caused serious injury, but Mathew was completely unfazed.


    ¡°Alivia. If I had known you were going to be here, I would never have come.¡± Mathew replied, but his words were contradicted by his smile.


    ¡°Right! You would have been running after me like a little lost puppy. Everyone, did you know I saved Mathews''s worthless life back on the Fifth Floor?¡± Alivia shouted, throwing her arm around Mathew¡¯s shoulder and turning to the others.


    ¡°You saved me more than once if I recall correctly. But I returned the favour.¡± Mathew countered, causing Alivia to laugh.


    ¡°That you did. Cost me my deck, though.¡± Alivia grumbled.


    ¡®Deck?¡¯ Yule thought, filing away that tidbit of information for later.


    ¡°It was worth it. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here. It''s nice to see a friendly face.¡± Mathew answered.


    Alivia was about to speak when another woman approached. This one was young as well, and Yule estimated she couldn¡¯t be more than eighteen or nineteen. Heartbreakingly beautiful with long, blond hair framing a pair of green eyes, the Demon Lord stopped in front of the pair.


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    ¡°Alivia, it is disrespectful to monopolize Demon Lord Mathew without introducing him to everyone.¡± The young woman stated, and Alivia scoffed.


    ¡°Aster, Mathew. Aster is the Twelfth Demon Lord if you can believe this floor¡¯s asinine way of ranking us. Load of horseshit if you ask me. There¡¯s no way you should be Thirteenth, Larson. Not after I met the rest of this bunch.¡± Alivia whispered the last part so only Yule and Mathew could hear it.


    ¡°I know who you are. Your name made the rounds on the seventh floor. Mathew the Enduring. You killed Samuel, the Traitor.¡± Aster replied coldly. Yule gave a start at the comment.


    ¡®Who is Samuel, and why was his death important?¡¯ She thought.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like that title. Samuel was a friend who made a mistake.¡± Mathew responded, his face forming a frown. The air felt heavier, like it was pressing down on her, and it caused Yule to shiver. She had only known Mathew for a short time; was this what it was like when he was angry?


    ¡°Now, now. We¡¯re all friends here. Bringing up the Seventh Floor isn¡¯t good for anyone.¡± Alivia intervened, and Mathew¡¯s face relaxed.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware you were on the Seventh Floor with me, Alivia.¡± Mathew said, his tone questioning, and Alivia shrugged in response.


    ¡°We all were. We just were all more fortunate than you that we didn¡¯t have to fight an Apostle. I was near the south pole. Bloody freezing. It would have been a mile deep in ice if there were any moisture there. But I heard about what you were up to. Righteous Subjugation made sure to keep us updated.¡± Alivia explained, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°Aster here was with me, along with some of the others. Good times.¡± Alivia finished, and Yule guessed from her expression that the experience was anything but ¡®good.¡¯


    ¡°It was a challenge, but one that made us stronger for the experience. I am surprised that you did not take more advantage of it, Mathew. I had thought you would be stronger.¡± Aster said and Yule¡¯s ears perked.


    There was so much information hidden in what they were saying! It was frustrating that she couldn¡¯t grab Mathew and drag him away to barrage him with questions. But she was here to watch and listen. The Cathedral had made that very clear. She could only record what was offered.


    Mathew didn¡¯t respond to the taunt, and he just shrugged his shoulder.


    ¡°What rank are you, Alivia?¡± Mathew asked, and his friend smiled broadly.


    ¡°Eighth!¡± She replied with pride, and Mathew nodded calmly at the declaration.


    ¡°So, are you going to introduce me to the others?¡± Mathew asked, stepping past Aster and moving toward the Pavilion where the other Demon Lords were gathering. Yule studied them carefully, committing their appearance to memory.


    ¡°Of course! We¡¯ll start in order of Rank since that will be easier for you. Don¡¯t worry. Not everyone is as bad as Aster. She¡¯s a special kind of assh-¡± Alivia was cut off by Aster before she could finish her curse.


    ¡°Marvin, Fencer.¡± Aster said, gesturing for the next person standing in the Pavilion. A large and burly soldier, he was wearing camo pants, a black shirt that clung to him tightly to show off his muscles, and a thin mustache that was curled slightly on the ends.


    Hearing his name, he left the others, stepped across the Pavilion, and held out his hand.


    ¡°You must be Mathew, the last of our compatriots. I¡¯m number eleven, by the way. Terrible how they rank us like that, but I must say, it gives me a bit of motivation to improve.¡± Marvin said, and Yule blinked in surprise at the onslaught of words. She had expected a deep voice combined with a rough style of speaking based on his appearance.


    Instead, he spoke quickly. He had an odd accent compared to the other Demon Lords, and Yule didn¡¯t recognize it.


    ¡°That it does.¡± Mathew said simply.


    ¡°So, you were there during the assault against the Apostle? I heard that not many of you made it out of there alive. ¡®Enduring¡¯ indeed. I wish I had earned a Title like that when I was on the Seventh Floor.¡± Marvin continued.


    ¡°You did! Marvin The Never Shutting Up Even When We Ask You To.¡± Alivia retorted, and Marvin burst out laughing. Aster took the moment where the two of them were distracted and arguing to speak to Mathew.


    ¡°The three of us were on the Seventh Floor together. It was...trying, but Alivia and Marvin can be counted on. Alivia has assured me that you can be trusted as well. It''s important that we present a united front.¡± Aster said.


    ¡°United against who?¡± Mathew asked, and the frosty woman faltered for a moment. Her eyes flicked to the far side of the Pavilion where six Demon Lords stood, deep in discussion while excluding their Chroniclers.


    ¡°They are the top ¡®Ranked¡¯ amongst them, and they expect us to obey them in all things.¡± Aster whispered.


    ¡°I can understand why. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ is warning me from all the way over here to stay away from them.¡± Mathew replied, his eyes locked on the six figures across from them. Yule didn¡¯t understand what they were saying.


    ¡®What is the ¡®Buzz¡¯?¡¯ Yule thought with frustration. It was bad enough that a tempest of opposing energy was battering her; would it kill them to speak plainly!?

 Chapter 92 – Floor 9: Part 13

    <u>Chapter 92</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 13


    ¡®Here we go.¡¯ Mathew thought as he stood in a circle with the other Demon Lords around the center of the Pavilion. Yule stood behind him, shivering slightly from the intense atmosphere that the meeting exuded.


    Even Mathew felt the mana in the air, the conflicting energy that came from Players of such different backgrounds and Disciplines meeting together.


    The ¡®Buzz¡¯ had become a rhythmic pulsing in the back of his head, not painful or unmanageable, but insistent that he take notice of it. It had worsened as he approached the others, alerting him of his place in their ranks.


    The locals here were correct, Mathew was the weakest of the ¡®Demon Lords.¡¯ Although he suspected a significant reason for that was his hoarding of Aether. If he burned through it all on leveling his Discipline, he could probably take his place amongst the upper ranks.


    But he didn¡¯t want to do that. Better to be underestimated for now; let others carry the burden of the fight against these Lords and Ladies of the Lineage while he sat back and observed.


    If the worst that happened was the others ridiculing him, Mathew could live with that. He was the ¡®Enduring¡¯ after all.


    Once they were all assembled, it fell on Mathew as the weakest to begin the introductions. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.


    ¡°Mathew, Villain. Ranked Thirteen.¡± He said, looking around at the others while he introduced himself. The Chronicles were all furiously writing in their notebooks, no doubt recording not only his words but also his tone and appearance.


    Alivia looked over at him and mouthed ¡®Villain?¡¯ with a sly smile, and Mathew shrugged. He would explain to her afterward that there hadn¡¯t been much of a choice in disciplines at the time. It wasn¡¯t like he wanted to be a villain; he just didn¡¯t have any other option. It was between bad and worse.


    Stepping back to his place, it was Aster¡¯s turn.


    ¡°Aster, Lancer. Ranked Twelfth.¡± The young woman stated. Her green eyes stared straight ahead, careful not to look directly at anyone else. Finishing, she nodded and returned to her place.


    ¡°Marvin, Fencer. Ranked Eleventh, although I think I was misjudged!¡± Marvin said, his enormous figure blocking his Chronicler from Mathew¡¯s sight. Even now, the man¡¯s words flowed quickly in this formal setting.


    Still, Mathew didn¡¯t underestimate him. There was a way Marvin moved, like he was gliding across the ground, that spoke of a skill or Blessing in combat that made Mathew wary. Anyone who could survive the Seventh Floor deserved his respect.


    ¡°Aleks, Outlaw. I¡¯m Tenth.¡± Another young man said. Wearing what Mathew could only call a cowboy outfit with a large hat and brown duster jacket, Aleks was scruffy and had a cigarette in his mouth. He looked like he had just come out of a John Wayne movie.


    On his hip was a pistol that Mathew could sense mana emanating from it. Strangely, Aleks had an Eastern European accent rather than the American southern drawl that Mathew would have expected.


    ¡°Kristen, Prophet. Ninth.¡± The next Demon Lord was a woman in her twenties. Wearing long, blue robes, she had her hood pulled low over her head, preventing Mathew from getting a good look at her face. But he could see that her eyes were completely white, lacking an iris or pupil.


    Mathew watched her warily.


    He had experience with Oracles and Diviners in the past. He wasn¡¯t sure if they could actually know the future; he suspected it was more of a perception of events or details that the rest of them missed that gave them an advantage in predicting what would happen.


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    But then again, several of their predictions had been eerily accurate. There was also their connection to the gods. With a Spirit stat as high as their Discipline could give, they relied on the pantheon of gods to provide them with knowledge and power.


    Righteous Subjugation had worked through an Oracle, and he had no doubt that Kristen was a favourite of one of the gods of the Tower. Not quite an Apostle, but on the path to becoming one. He could feel it, and it unsettled Mathew like few things could.


    He had his fill of Apostles.


    ¡°Alivia, drafter. Looks like I¡¯m ranked Eighth.¡± Alivia said. The silver buckles on her jacket caught the light, and Mathew saw that her deck of cards was grasped firmly in her right hand.


    Mathew doubted she had any trouble replacing her cards, and in the intervening time since he last saw her, he was sure that the power level of her deck had improved. Alivia¡¯s power was mainly contained within the deck held in her hands.


    From what Mathew understood, levels gave her a minimal boost in her stats, so purchasing new cards from the shop was better than pumping Aether into levelling. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ came from the deck rather than her when he was around her, making it feel strange compared to the others.


    ¡®At least I have someone I can trust.¡¯ Mathew thought, pleased to have an ally. While he was thinking about their time together, journeying into the pit, the next Demon Lord introduced themselves.


    ¡°Joseph, Illusionist and the Seventh Demon Lord!¡± A man shouted. Mathew was startled from his thoughts by the loud declaration. Joseph wore a full suit with a wide, bright red tie and a coat with tails. Best of all, he wore a black top hat, which he took off with a flourish.


    His introduction was followed by a kaleidoscope of colours appearing in the sky above them like fireworks, accompanied by the sound of applause and cheers from an invisible audience. When none of the Demon Lords clapped or showed any hint of response, Joseph let out a sigh and placed his hat back on his head.


    ¡°Tough audience.¡± He muttered, taking his place with the others.


    The seven of them formed the ¡®Upper Ranks¡¯ of the Demon Lords, and Aster¡¯s intention was for them to work together to balance against the ¡®Lower Ranks.¡¯  From what Mathew could ¡®feel¡¯ from those around him and his brief discussion with Aster and Alivia, the top Seven weren¡¯t immoral or dishonest.


    But the Lower Ranks were different. Mathew and his allies may be ¡®playing¡¯ as Demon Lords, but it seemed the gods had found Players better suited to the role.


    ¡°Osmund. Blood Sorcerer and the Sixth Demon Lord.¡± The next stated. Wearing blood-red robes covered in strange symbols, a middle-aged man held a staff in both of his hands. The black wood was topped with a large ruby that flickered with an inner light.


    Mathew wrinkled his nose at the sudden coppery smell that wafted across the pavilion, and his muscles tensed involuntarily.


    ¡®Dangerous.¡¯ Mathew thought, assessing the man. He had black hair with flecks of grey. If he was showing that much age, even after gaining so many levels, he must have been ancient when he arrived, or his stats leaned more toward Mind or Spirit. The higher the Body stat reached, the more your age would change to reflect the ideal.


    Mathew remembered that Samuel had been older when they first met but had regained his youth as he progressed through the Floors.


    It hadn¡¯t been the case for Mathew. Instead, his body gained more muscle, and time didn¡¯t affect him. He should have been in his mid-thirties after so long in the Tower, but he still looked to be twenty or so.


    Thankfully, the smell of blood retreated as Osmund returned to his side of the Pavilion to make way for the next.


    ¡°Hello! I¡¯m Carlie! I¡¯m a Beguiler and number five!¡± A beautiful woman said as she stepped into the circle and looked around at the group. She wore an outfit that was nearly a bikini but had a little more material than swimwear and was made of black leather.


    Her long, black hair framed a pale face with a pair of red lips and honey-coloured eyes. She smiled at everyone before her eyes locked onto Mathew¡¯s, and she winked at him. Raising her hand slowly, she blew him a kiss.


    A smell of perfume brushed past him, and for a moment, he could feel his hold on his emotions slip. Mathew wanted her, whether as a lover or to serve her as a slave; he wasn¡¯t sure. His mind reeled, and he was lost.


    White-hot and intense anger rose from within him, and he violently banished the thoughts from his mind. Snarling, he was about to speak, or strike out, when he noticed that several of the others on his side of the pavilion, including Marvin and Alivia, were affected.


    It took them a second or two longer to recover than it did Mathew.


    Carlie seemed surprised by his reaction; her eyes widened as she stared at him.


    ¡°How did you¡­¡± She was interrupted by a refined and sophisticated voice from the far side of the pavilion where the Lower Ranks were stood.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough, Carlie. We¡¯re all allies here.¡±

 Chapter 93 – Floor 9: Part 14

    <u>Chapter 93</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 14


    The woman who had chastised Carlie walked into the center of the circle of Demon Lords and introduced herself. The effects of Carlie¡¯s Blessing had worn off, leaving the others troubled and angry at the actions of their supposed ¡®ally.¡¯


    Mathew suppressed the rage he felt, the unconscious response to the Beguiler¡¯s attempt to interfere with his thoughts. But, no matter how controlled he was, he couldn¡¯t stifle the hatred he felt at the moment.


    It was obvious that Carlie felt it was ¡®just a joke.¡¯ She had even shrugged it off after her companion told her to stop. But Mathew saw it as an attack, as serious as if she had hurled a spear or stabbed him with a knife.


    ¡°I am Corrina. Highborn and the fourth-ranked Demon Lord.¡± Corrina introduced herself, and Mathew studied her carefully.


    Corrina wore a long, black dress with a white shawl across her shoulders. She was adorned in more jewelry than Mathew had seen one person wear, from multiple necklaces and bracelets. Corrina even wore a crown, a graceful silver headdress that swept back from her forehead and arched upwards into a  sort of halo.


    Despite her appearance, which was incredibly attractive, Mathew was instantly put off and wary of her. There was an arrogance to her demeanour, a tilt of her head and the way she held herself that spoke of everything and everyone was beneath her.


    Carlie had retreated next to Corrina, and Mathew could see a resemblance between them. They were related in some way, but with their ages and the way the Tower could revert the flow of time, Mathew couldn¡¯t say how.


    And he wasn¡¯t about to ask.


    Corrina glided back to her place; her Chronicler was an old woman who didn¡¯t make eye contact with her assigned Demon Lord. Every move they made and every word they spoke was recorded for their Cathedral¡¯s records.


    The next Demon Lord walked forward to introduce himself, but first, he leered and ogled every woman in sight. He was large, but unlike Marvin, who was muscular, this man was bulky and round. Wearing leather and steel armour, he had rolls of fat protruding through the seams, and it seemed like they were too small for him.


    Worse, his clothing was soiled with flakes of food and grease that also matted his long, scraggly beard. His eyes, which had been scanning the room, locked onto Carlie and didn¡¯t leave, even when he was walking past her.


    The Beguiler gave him the middle finger, to which the man laughed off as he sauntered into the center of the pavilion.


    ¡°You all should know who I am by now, but I¡¯ll introduce myself to the few losers who are out of the loop. I¡¯m Lucas, Brigand and the Third Demon Lord.¡± Lucas stated, giving a wink and a smile at Carlie before turning his attention to Corinna, who was frowning at his behaviour.


    ¡°Lighten up. You¡¯d be more attractive if you smiled more, for Christ¡¯s sake.¡± Lucas said teasingly before strutting back to his spot. Carlie tried to speak but was stopped by Corrina¡¯s hand on her shoulder. With a loud huff, the Beguiler settled down.


    ¡°That leaves me.¡± Another man said, taking his place. Dressed in rags, the man was balding and covered in scars and sores. He seemed frail, and his hands shook as he rubbed them together nervously. Mathew studied him carefully. How could this poor man be the second strongest of them all?


    ¡°Ludvig. I¡¯m a Wretch, and I¡¯m supposed to be the second Demon Lord. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you all. Especially you, Joseph. I¡¯m glad I could finally put a face to a name.¡± Ludvig said, already walking toward the Illusionist with his hand outstretched.


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    Automatically, Joseph moved to shake his hand when Kristen stopped him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t touch him!¡± She hissed, her white eyes were locked onto Ludvig, and she was trembling in fear. Ludvig seemed confused about the reaction, shifting nervously and shyly for a moment. When he knew that no one would shake his hand, he changed.


    His attitude completely shifted. No longer nervous or fearful, he grinned ruefully and rubbed a hand over his balding head.


    ¡°Shit. Almost had him. He looked tasty, too. Shitty oracles and their visions. I¡¯ll remember that, bitch.¡± Ludvig called out as he returned to his place.


    Mathew now understood why Aster wanted the Upper Ranks to be united against these people. They were all truly terrible, each in their own unique and awful way. Mathew doubted he could trust any of them, nor would he want to spend any significant amount of time around Ranks 6 and below.


    ¡®I¡¯m glad that I held onto my Aether. I wouldn¡¯t want to count myself amongst that group.¡¯ Mathew thought as his eyes flicked from one person to the next. But of everyone here, there was one figure that filled him with dread and anxiety.


    The last of the Demon Lords had her arms crossed as she watched everyone else with a small grin on her face. There was something feral about it like she was a hungry predator watching her prey. She appeared normal, or mundane compared to the rest of those present.


    Wearing a short, black motorcycle jacket, she had matched it with a white tank top and blue jeans. Her skin was pale like she had never been exposed to the sun before, but her lips were bright red to match her crimson eyes.


    ¡°Well, that was enjoyable. Don¡¯t worry, Ludvig; there will be plenty of other opportunities for you to slake your thirst.  My name is Mercy, and I¡¯m the First Ranked Demon Lord, which means you all are now my underlings. If you don¡¯t like that, I¡¯m more than happy to listen to your concerns.¡± Mercy informed them, her tone dripping with insincerity.


    ¡°You forgot to include your Discipline.¡± Alivia said, and a few of the others nodded their heads at her statement. Mercy let out a sigh and began to study her nails. Mathew noticed they were lacquered black.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t forget, I just have no intention of announcing it.¡± Mercy replied.


    ¡°Then we have no intention of working with you.¡± Alivia countered. It was not only rude to not let your allies know your Discipline, but it gave insight into your personality, traits or relationship with the gods of the Tower. Even Mathew, who was a Villain, let the others know about it.


    After all, it didn¡¯t ¡®define¡¯ him; he just didn¡¯t have much of a choice in its selection. He suspected it had been a trick by Mischievous Depravity to get him to this floor.


    ¡°You will be working with us. You don¡¯t have a choice.¡± Lucas growled, and Mercy smiled at her companion.


    ¡°Of course, they have a choice. It¡¯s just that they would never be stupid enough to attempt to work alone. The Lords and Ladies of this land are no pushovers. You need us.¡± Mercy added, and Alivia scoffed at the comment.


    ¡°We¡¯re using their rankings, moron. They know who among us is the biggest threat. I bet that, without us, they¡¯ll be knocking on your door within a week. We¡¯ll see how strong and united you are then.¡± Alivia added, and Aleks joined in.


    ¡°She¡¯s right, partners. I reckon that they will start with you lot first, especially you, Lucas. Your territory is right by their Eastern Trade route. They won¡¯t want you getting your ugly mitts on their coin.¡± Lucas said, tipping his cowboy hat up and flicking the end of his lit cigarette to shake off the ashes.


    Mercy stared at them for a moment before letting out a small sigh and turning to look at Mathew.


    ¡°Mathew, you have some sway amongst your side. I¡¯ve heard you have been called a ¡®survivor,¡¯ keeping a united front is the only way we will endure this floor. Convince these idiots that they must work with us.¡± Mercy said, waving her hand dismissively toward the others.


    Mathew stayed silent, trying to remain distant from this heated discussion when Kristen spoke up from near him. Her white eyes were locked onto Mercy, and her lips had been moving silently as if she were in discussion with someone unseen.


    ¡°Fiend Tainted.¡± Kristen whispered, and Mathew froze at the statement. Mercy, who had been calm and composed up to this point, flushed red as her eyes narrowed dangerously.


    ¡°What did you say?¡± Alivia asked, her head whipped around to stare at Kristen.


    ¡°Contaminated. Corrupted. Traitorous.¡± Kristen continued; each word hit Mathew like a hammer, and his body tensed. He knew what she meant.


    ¡°You were an Adherent of the Outer Deity.¡± Mathew stated in a voice hoarse from the strain of containing his emotions.


    Mercy was silent, but Mathew knew the truth. He could see the signs about her now. The Adherents had a chaotic aura; the mana within them differed from those who received Disciplines from the Tower gods. Kristen was correct; it was corrupt and different from their own.


    Behind him, Yule finally stopped writing. The tension in the air escalated sharply, and an oppressive feeling smothered all the Chroniclers. Yule was driven to her knees. She wasn¡¯t able to stand upright against such pressure.

 Chapter 94 – Floor 9: Part 15

    <u>Chapter 94</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 15


    Yule gasped for air as she tried to withstand the turbulent energies that were pervading the Pavilion. The crushing weight of the pressure drove her to her knees and forced her head to bow toward the ground.


    She had never experienced anything like this and wasn¡¯t the only one affected. The other Chronicles had fallen, some had collapsed entirely, and she didn¡¯t know if they were still alive as they lay unmoving.


    With all of her might, Yule tried to raise her head. She wanted to witness what was about to happen, although she couldn¡¯t say that she would survive to record it.


    ¡°An Adherent. God damned traitors, every single one of you. You sold us all out, threw your lot in with the fiends, all for a little more power.¡± Alivia spat; her pretty face was twisted with anger.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t like that, not that I would expect you to understand. We¡¯re all here for a reason. The goal is to achieve our wishes, our dreams. I can¡¯t help that you lot were too slow or stupid not to grasp every opportunity.¡± Mercy replied.


    ¡°And what about the rest of you? Were you Adherents as well?¡± Aster asked. She flexed her hands, making white-knuckled fists before relaxing them and starting the process over again.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± Ludvig responded, his face breaking into a grin.


    It explained why they were all so close, although Yule had no idea what an ¡®Adherent¡¯ was. But from the words ¡®traitor¡¯ and ¡®corrupted¡¯, she had an idea that it wasn¡¯t anything good. It was also why these six felt so different from the others.


    Mathew and the Upper Ranks felt similar to the Lords and Ladies of the Lineage, powerful but not evil. The Lower Ranks were twisted and vile. There was a malevolence in their auras that Mathew lacked. Yule was thankful she had been assigned to him, not one of the others.


    ¡°How did you all survive? I thought we eliminated all of you after Samuel died.¡± Joseph inquired. The illusionist was shaky and pale; his near-fatal mistake of underestimating Ludvig had left him nervous and wary.


    ¡°We cut a deal! I told you they were a bunch of ignorant losers. You praise these ¡®gods,¡¯ but they are as petty and easily swayed as anyone else. We made a lot of promises, said we were sorry and that we would be good little boys and girls from now on.¡± Lucas explained, laughing uproariously at the end.


    ¡°They even granted us new Blessings and Disciplines to replace what we received from the Outer Deity.¡± Osmund added.


    ¡°We can¡¯t work with this lot. Did you all forget what they did? I saw the bodies and what they did after they sacked Refuge. They stripped the bodies and left them in a line for miles in each direction. They were people, just like us.¡± Joseph shouted at his allies.


    ¡°I agree. Once a traitor, always a traitor. Better we kill them all now before they stab us in the back.¡± Aleks commented, throwing his cigarette onto the ground and running his palm along the pistol at his hip.


    ¡°We do that, and we¡¯ll all die to the locals.¡± Aster countered, and Alivia scoffed.


    ¡°Rock and a hard place. I¡¯ll take my chances.¡± Alivia stated, and even Kristen nodded. The Prophet¡¯s white eyes hadn¡¯t left Mercy¡¯s face, and the woman was shivering at whatever her visions were showing her.


    ¡°Mathew, make them see reason. We just need to work together; we don¡¯t need to be friends.¡± Aster said, looking to the last person who hadn¡¯t made his thoughts known. Yule could only make out a small bit of Mathew¡¯s face from where she kneeled, but he looked as grim as death.


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    Unlike some of the others, there was no fear in his expression. He hadn¡¯t moved an inch since the revelation that Mercy was an Adherent. Yule didn¡¯t know how he could stand the tension. It felt like waves of mana were battering her.


    ¡°No, we don¡¯t need to be friends.¡± Mathew muttered, and everyone quieted at the sound. There was a hard edge to his words, an anger that simmered under the surface, barely under control. He held his hand out to his right side with the palm facing upwards.


    Yule watched, fascinated, as an object fell into his grasp.


    It was a mace, massive and imposing. The head of the mace was a clenched fist, and Yule could feel the mana emanating from it. It gave off an aura of calmness and complete control that Yule felt the violent energies colliding still.


    The pressure that was weighing down on her relaxed, and she could breathe easily for the first time since she had arrived at the Pavilion.


    The weapon was clearly magical; Yule had seen enough of them in the past to recognize that, but it was on a whole different level from those items. Streaks of white light wrapped around the fist, cascading up and down the length of the mace and reaching Mathew¡¯s hand before travelling back to the fist.


    ¡°Impressive weapon, but it won¡¯t do much good in the hands of a weakling.¡± Lucas sneered.


    ¡°I was gifted this from Righteous Subjugation after I killed Samuel.¡± Mathew said, and the mocking look was wiped from Lucas¡¯ face.


    ¡°I killed the Apostle of the Outer Deity. How much do you want to bet that I can do the same to you?¡± Mathew threatened, and Yule felt a chill from the Demon Lord. Lucas took a step forward, his hands now holding a sword bigger than Yule¡¯s entire body.


    ¡°Not a chance! It took an army to take Samuel down, and I only see the seven of you!¡± Lucas bellowed. He was about to run forward when a deafening roar sounded out. The sky above them darkened, and the clouds, which had been fluffy tufts of white, turned black and menacing.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    Yule clapped her hands over her ears in fear at the noise; it resounded throughout the pavilion like a gong. The Demon Lords, who had been about to attack each other, stopped at the sudden commotion. Yule watched in confusion as they each raised their matching silver bracelets.


    Burning words appeared in the air above them, a fiery sentence that Yule knew came from the gods.


    A reminder to all Players. Infighting is forbidden on the Ninth Floor. Attacking others will result in severe penalties.


    Yule read the message quickly before turning to look at Mathew¡¯s reaction. Strangely, he ignored the hovering words for a smaller version that appeared above his wristband. This message was different, and judging by the content, it was intended just for him.


    Play nicely with others. ¨C Mischievous Depravity.


    Yule watched Mathew dismiss the words with a gesture, but their impact was immediate. His mace returned to the nothingness that it had appeared from.


    ¡°We may not be able to kill each other, but that still doesn¡¯t mean we need to work together.¡± Alivia said, and the others agreed with her.


    ¡°Fine. I knew this was going to be a waste of time. But when you all are under siege by the locals, don¡¯t expect us to come running.¡± Mercy replied.


    The meeting ended quickly after that, with the six Lower Ranks taking portals to wherever they had come from. Aster looked distressed and worried at the development, an odd expression on her otherwise cold face. She had purchased the item that allowed the travel, and she had rested her hopes on their success through cooperation.


    But even she couldn¡¯t have foretold that the Lower Ranks were Adherents of the Outer Deity.


    ¡°Well, that went to shit pretty fast.¡± Alivia commented from where she leaned on the railing of the Pavilion. Yule found that she liked the ¡®Drafter¡¯; she was easy to read and understand.


    Alivia was the type of person that what you saw was what you got.


    ¡°It was always destined to end that way. We were na?ve to think otherwise.¡± Kristen commented.


    ¡°Yeah, well, we had to try. I hope those bastards give the Lords and Ladies enough trouble that it takes the heat off of us. What¡¯s the plan?¡± Aleks said, and they turned to look at Aster.


    ¡°We grow our territories and band together if one of us is attacked. The objective isn¡¯t to rule this Floor or defeat all of the Lords and Ladies here. We¡¯re to gain renown and ¡®shake¡¯ things up.¡± Aster explained, and Joseph laughed.


    ¡°Things seemed to be well and truly shaken. Fine, I¡¯m on board. Keep in touch, everyone.¡±


    The meeting between the Upper Ranks ended much more harmoniously than with the Lower. Returning through the portal, a much better experience now that Mathew recognized the problem and provided her potions, she had barely stepped inside the hall of his mansion in Reesh when he announced that he would be travelling again.


    A few days later found Yule and Mathew in the southern plains of Reesh, hunting the undead.

 Chapter 95 – Floor 9: Part 16

    <u>Chapter 95</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 16


    Mathew let the winds take control of his conjured flames. The bonfire that had been billowing skyward and consuming the cluster of undead that had emerged from a barrow was immediately flattened and swept northward.


    He watched it approaching the grassy hill that he knew contained more of the undead with amusement. They were little more than skeletons with bits of flesh on their bones held together by some kind of dark magic.


    Mathew suspected they may have been remnants from the last time ¡®Demon Lords¡¯ were on this Floor, either created by them or by the Lords and Ladies that fought against them. Whether it was deliberate or a side effect of the conflict, he couldn¡¯t say.


    ¡°This takes me back.¡± Mathew whispered. The fires left a cloud of smoke that trailed into the clear blue sky. He wasn¡¯t worried about anyone coming to investigate. The Lords and Ladies of the Lineage wouldn¡¯t come this far south, and Reesh was a day¡¯s travel to the north.


    If he could clear out this land, he could expand his territory. It would make good farmland, and he was already planning to speak with Mayor Goodwin about encouraging people to settle here.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Yule asked, coughing a bit from the smoke before continuing to write in her notebook. The chronicler barely left his side; her zeal to document everything he was doing could be uncomfortable at times.


    But he didn¡¯t think about sending her away.


    She was pleasant company, for the most part. Her knowledge about the land and the people here was proving to be invaluable.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Mathew replied, and Yule frowned at the statement.


    ¡°Demon Lord Mathew, I need to write down everything you say and do for my chronicle. Please don¡¯t withhold anything from me.¡± Yule chastised him, and Mathew turned and smiled at her.


    ¡°Very well, consider me suitably scolded. I said that it takes me back.¡± Mathew explained.


    ¡°Takes you back where?¡± Yule asked, seeking more information.


    ¡°To the First Floor. When I started in the Tower of Avarice.¡± Mathew clarified.


    ¡°What was it like?¡± Yule inquired. Mathew had mentioned the ¡®Tower of Avarice¡¯ several times and eventually said it was how the Demon Lords travelled between worlds, doing tasks for some of the gods. It had been shocking to learn that they served the gods similarly to the Cathedral of Knowledge.


    The only difference was the purpose of their service.


    Yule and the Cathedral of Knowledge were committed to recording all of the major events of their world in accordance with the decree of the god of Accumulated Understanding.


    Mathew, however, was here because of the god of Mischievous Depravity, an evil-sounding god if Yule were to judge them by their title. Yule didn¡¯t understand why the god wanted Mathew to ¡®shake things up¡¯ and disrupt the Lords and Ladies, but that was his objective.


    She had read the chronicles and knew that the Lords and Ladies of the Lineage weren¡¯t the paragons of light and justice they made themselves seem to the public, but Yule didn¡¯t think they were terrible enough to warrant intervention from the Demon Lords.


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    Perhaps the Chronicles that Yule had read were incomplete.


    Yule shuddered and pushed the blasphemous thoughts from her mind to focus on Mathew. She had grown more comfortable around him during their time together. She was no longer terrified of him, although she knew what he was capable of if challenged or angered.


    But he never treated her unkindly. He was polite and thoughtful to those under his care. He was also protective of both her and the villagers of Reesh. Although Yule had seen another side of him that Mathew only showed his enemies.


    The raging inferno engulfed the plains for miles in front of them, consuming the dry grass and scrub and leaving blackened earth behind.


    The few undead who managed to survive the flames through some quirk of the terrain or the protection of the others around them were put down unceremoniously by streaks of bluish-white energy that projected from Mathew¡¯s hand.


    It was a display of power that Yule had never seen before, on a level incomparable to anything in her life. She could only liken it to the stories she had read of the previous Demon Lords and the Lords and Ladies of the Lineage.


    Mathew thought about the question for a moment, pondering his response as he made a calming motion with his hands. The out-of-control inferno, well past the barrow the undead had appeared from, began to subside.


    In moments, only soot and ash remained of the undead that had been assaulting them. Satisfied with the results, Mathew turned back to Yule.


    ¡°When I first entered the Tower, the Floor I started on was similar to this one, only it had been destroyed by hordes of undead. We were tasked with clearing out a city.¡± Mathew shrugged. His foot was digging into the ground idly, sifting through the ashes.


    ¡°I burned them out then, just as I did now. I guess I¡¯m just feeling¡­nostalgic. It¡¯s been a decade and nine Floors, but I¡¯m still doing the same things.¡± Mathew finished. Yule could hear the emotion in his voice, something she wouldn¡¯t have expected from a Demon Lord before she had met Mathew.


    For the first time since he had begun talking, Yule ceased writing and closed her notebook.


    ¡°Why did you enter the Tower? At the meeting, Demon Lord Mercy said that you all had a wish, a dream that you wanted to come true.¡± Yule inquired, and Mathew paused his movements.


    ¡°I¡­I didn¡¯t have a dream. Or a wish.¡± Mathew admitted while running his hand through his hair and frowning.


    ¡°I did it because someone I know entered. Her mother was sick, and she was hoping the cure was inside the Tower.¡± Mathew looked away, and his eyes traced the hill in the distance where the undead had emerged.


    ¡°Did you find her?¡± Yule asked curiously. Mathew seemed so¡­human. So vulnerable. She doubted anyone would believe her in the Cathedral of Knowledge if she put this moment in her chronicle.


    The Demon Lords were supposed to be paragons of domination and authority. But she had seen them divided and unguarded.


    ¡°Not yet. It hasn¡¯t been easy, and just when I think I¡¯m making progress, I reach a floor like the Seventh that makes me question if there is any point to what I¡¯m doing.¡± Mathew stopped, drew in a deep breath and let it out.


    ¡°She¡¯s probably dead and gone. I failed, and now I¡¯m stuck in this¡­¡± Mathew formed a fist so tightly that the crack of his knuckles startled Yule. He stopped talking; his emotions caused his skin to flush red, and his breathing was ragged.


    For a moment, Yule was terrified. There was a Demon Lord, a being of unimaginable power, losing his composure in front of her. But strangely, she didn¡¯t feel like running away. Instead, she wanted to help him.


    What kind of strange ability did Mathew possess that he earned such loyalty and care from her in the short weeks she had known him?


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have told you any of that. It¡¯s my problem, my burden.¡± Mathew apologized.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that your friend is dead. You made it, and so did the other Demon Lords. She might still be alive. The god of Accumulated Knowledge teaches us that all things are possible, that it is up to us to always seek the truth.¡± Yule said.


    Mathew smiled at her words, a chuckle escaped his lips.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. I shouldn¡¯t lose hope. Thank you, Yule. That was very kind of you.¡± Mathew expressed, and Yule smiled in response.


    ¡°But a piece of advice, in exchange for your kindness. Don¡¯t take the words of the gods as fact; you should question them like everything else in your life. It¡¯s been my experience that they can be just as imperfect as we are.¡± Mathew said.


    Before Yule could respond, Mathew began to walk towards the hill.


    ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s go kill whatever is raising the dead in this ¡®barrow.¡¯ And if it''s already dead, we¡¯ll just have to ensure it stays that way.¡±

 Chapter 96 – Floor 9: Part 17

    <u>Chapter 96</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 17


    ¡°Mystic Bolt!¡± Mathew shouted, and a streak of bluish-white energy struck the wall of bone that surrounded the undead figure that they had found in the deepest part of the tomb.


    The undead wore rags that had once been made of the finest silk, heavily embroidered with gold and silver. Its body was skeletal and fleshless, but its eyes glowed with a crimson malevolence. Yule hid near the burial chamber entrance and watched Mathew''s every move.


    They had entered to find it surrounded by the lifeless bodies of dozens of humans and thousands of animals. Streaks of blood made a trail in the very center, where they formed runes and symbols around a skeleton.


    They interrupted whatever spell or ritual that was in progress, and the undead reacted with violence. Yule could feel turbulent energies sweep across her skin like stinging nettles. But Mathew, unaffected by the onslaught of mana, rushed headlong into the chamber.


    Undeterred by the summoned wall of bone the undead created, Mathew was a blur as he dodged the creature¡¯s counterattack, a blast of cold air that froze everything in its path. It was so icy that when the rock wall behind Mathew finally stopped it, the stone shattered.


    Yule¡¯s eyes widened as she watched Mathew¡¯s distorted silhouette roll across the ground to dodge another attack. Back on his feet, he flicked his finger to send a boulder the size of Yule¡¯s head at the undead.


    The stone sailed across the bone wall but was redirected by a gesture from the undead. The rock crashed onto the ground next to it, and its eyes were momentarily preoccupied by the distraction. Hidden behind the rock was another streak of energy, and the bolt struck the distracted undead in the body.


    When the bolt of energy Mathew sent hit the undead, a barrier of dark energy surrounded its torso in an attempt to block the energy. A clash of conflicting energies lasted a moment and sent sparks of white energy in all directions before the undead¡¯s barrier failed.


    The bolt of energy burned through its chest, leaving a smoking hole and spinning the creature around with the force of its attack. Mathew, capitalizing on the monster¡¯s inability to defend itself, snapped his fingers to create a towering pillar of fire.


    The flames engulfed its body for a second before the undead managed to protect itself with a barrier of its mana. Pushing back the flames, the creature looked for Mathew¡¯s blurred figure through the inferno. Its crimson eyes scanned the room in vain. Mathew was nowhere to be found.


    Seeing that its prey eluded it, the monster focused on Yule, hiding behind a curved wall section. Yule let out a frightened cry as the undead¡¯s eyes found hers.


    Its hand raised and pointed at the Chronicler, and Yule felt the necrotic energy within it swirl and build. She couldn¡¯t help but stumble backwards and shield her face with her hands.


    Mathew leapt out of the darkness behind the undead, the massive mace of Righteous Subjugation held in his hands and raised above his head. The monster didn¡¯t have time to turn before the clenched fist bashed into its skull, shattering it into pieces.


    A crimson energy swirled around it, the remnants of whatever mana was fueling its undeath. The skeleton crumbled to dust immediately, causing Mathew to sneeze loudly and brush it away from his clothing.


    ¡°Whew! That was nasty.¡± Mathew exclaimed, sending his mace back to his inventory. He turned to look at Yule, who was still cowering.


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    ¡°Are you alright? Everything is fine. I wasn¡¯t going to let it hurt you.¡± Mathew assured her while walking over to where she was kneeling and offering her a hand to regain her feet. Yule tentatively took his hand, marvelling how steady Mathew was. She was shaking with adrenaline and fear, while he was like a rock.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Yule whispered, removing her hand from his.


    ¡°No problem.¡± Mathew turned away from her and looked toward the dusty remains of the undead. He had a contemplative look on his face.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Yule asked, noticing right away the change in Mathew¡¯s attitude.


    ¡°That undead was stronger than any of the other ones I fought. And it was using Blessings.¡± Mathew revealed. Yule understood what he was saying immediately.


    ¡°It was like you? From the Tower of Avarice?¡± Yule asked, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe? It¡¯s connected to it somehow.¡± Mathew paused before turning to look at Yule once again.


    ¡°Does your Chronicle say anything about any of the Demon Lords that died? Are any of them buried in this part of your world?¡± Mathew inquired. Yule didn¡¯t even need a moment to consider the question before responding.


    ¡°Yes. Several perished in these lands from Lord Algrond¡¯s father.¡± Yule explained.


    ¡°Several?¡± Mathew asked in surprise. He thought that the death of a few Demon Lords would have been common knowledge, or their graves would have been marked in some way.


    ¡°The last time Demon Lords invaded this realm, their numbers were much higher than yours. However, if I have interpreted the chronicles correctly, they were much weaker than you.¡± Yule stated with a tone that was doubtful of her mistake.


    There was little chance she would be wrong about something concerning such an important document.


    ¡°Huh. So it''s possible this was a Demon Lord¡¯s grave.¡± Mathew muttered while looking around the underground chamber. He didn¡¯t feel anything from learning of the loss of a player. He didn¡¯t know them, and even if he did, he had a feeling that a person capable of leaving such a malevolent undead hadn¡¯t been a good person.


    ¡°Let''s take a look around.¡± Mathew uttered while rooting around the dusty remnants of the undead for any loot. He only had to flick away some of the grey ash to find a cube of Aether that he immediately pocketed.


    ¡®Not bad. Five hundred thousand units.¡¯ Mathew thought as he placed it in his inventory. Straightening, he began to walk around the chamber, occasionally sifting through the piles of debris with his foot or using ¡®Catapult¡¯ to move items if he didn¡¯t want to touch them.


    ¡°What do we have here!?¡± Mathew exclaimed, and Yule rushed forward from where she stood behind him to get a better look. She would have liked to say it was important for her chronicle of Mathew¡¯s endeavours, but the truth was she was curious about what could interest a powerful Demon Lord.


    It was a metal decanter filled with water. There was an aura of mana about it, and even covered in dust, there was a gleam to it. Mathew brushed away the dirt from its surface with the sleeve of his jacket. The water inside was so dusty that it was more mud than liquid.


    Mathew tilted the container on its side to dump out the muddy water and to have a better look at the inside. To his surprise, it slowly began to fill once more with crystal-clear liquid.


    ¡°Interesting.¡± Mathew said as words appeared above it, revealed only to him.


    Decanter of Endless Water


    ¡°That¡¯s pretty cool.¡± Mathew muttered and poured out about a cupful of water that had already returned. The brass interior of the decanter was sparkling clean, and Mathew made the decision to have the rest cleaned when he returned to Reesh.


    ¡°A magical item!¡± Yule exclaimed in awe. She had seen the Lords and Ladies, as well as the Demon Lords, use magical weapons. But magical items were much rarer since they could be seen as ¡®frivolous¡¯ and weren¡¯t as commonly created.


    ¡°Do you like it? Here.¡± Mathew said, handing the young woman the decanter. He didn¡¯t really have a need for it. He had an inventory stocked full of food and water. Even if he didn¡¯t, he could just buy some from the ¡®shop¡¯ with a few units of Aether.


    Yule was shocked as her fingers closed around the handle of the magical item.


    ¡°But, this is yours!¡± Yule cried while trying to push the magical item back to Mathew. Such an item would be worth a fortune in their world.


    Mathew scoffed at her and ignored the offer to return it.


    ¡°Actually, it was probably his.¡± Mathew said, pointing at the pile of dust that had been the undead.


    ¡°And now it''s yours.¡± Mathew finished. After a final look around to see if they had missed anything, Mathew led the way out of the chamber with a delighted Yule following behind him, occasionally pouring out water and watching the decanter refill by magic.

 Chapter 97 – Floor 9: Part 18

    <u>Chapter 97</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 18


    ¡°You just don¡¯t know when to quit, do you?¡± Mathew called out over the wall of fire. The intensity of the heat made him wary of approaching it, and even with his command over the Blessing ¡®Control Flames,¡¯ he couldn¡¯t smother it easily.


    Algrond stood on the other side, wearily leaning on his two-handed sword for support. Beside him were two other Lords and a Lady of the Lineage.


    The last time Mathew faced Algrond, it had just been him and another ally. Evidently, he was expanding his efforts to drive Mathew out of Reesh or kill him.


    But, the same as his last attempt, Mathew prevailed. It hadn¡¯t been that hard; these were minor figures in the ranks of the Lineage. Even ganging up on him wasn¡¯t enough to defeat Mathew, although it had been time-consuming and destructive to the environment.


    They were just to the north of Reesh, close to where they had fought before. The crackling wall of flames that divided Mathew from his opponents hadn¡¯t been his creation; rather, it was an opportunity for a respite and to cover the retreat of Algrond and the others.


    Yule was safely sheltered a distance away, carefully observing and taking notes.


    ¡°There will be no abandoning our holy mission, Demon. Even if it takes a thousand years, we will never stop. And if I should fall, my Lineage will carry on until you are driven from these lands.¡± Algrond responded.


    Mathew chuckled at the reply, shaking his head ruefully at the prideful statement.


    ¡°Good luck with that. I think you have other things to worry about than me. If I were you, I would focus your efforts on one of the higher-ranked Demon Lords. Or maybe you¡¯re too scared to act against them? I heard they have been causing a lot of trouble lately. If you ask nicely, I might be persuaded to give you some tips on how to fight them.¡± Mathew said truthfully.


    His allies, the Upper Ranks of Demon Lords, had been consolidating their territory and slowly building their reputation as per their objectives. But the Lower Ranks were wreaking Havoc across this Floor to the point where he was almost rooting for the Lords and Ladies if he didn¡¯t know that they weren¡¯t any better.


    Mathew wished both sides would just wipe each other out and leave him and the people on this floor in peace.


    ¡°I won¡¯t fall for your lies, Demon.¡± Algrond responded. He caught his breath and sheathed the large sword onto his back.


    ¡°Fair enough. I¡¯m happy to have a scuffle anytime, Algrond. Bring as many friends as you want; just means there will be more of an audience when I beat you. Until next time!¡± Mathew replied, waving merrily to the Lord and grinning widely.


    Algrond and the others left, and the wall of fire faded when they could no longer be seen on the horizon. While he waited for Yule to rejoin him, Mathew checked his objectives.


    Reputation: 350/5000


    ¡°What do I have to do to fill this thing?¡± Mathew grumbled. He had been on this floor for over a year and only gained 350 points of reputation. He didn¡¯t want to be here for decades, twiddling his thumbs and waiting for the local Lords to attack him.


    Although he had to admit, he had fun adventuring. Clearing the mines, bandit camps, and ruins brought him a steady supply of points and Aether. Plus, it broke up the monotony of ruling over Reesh. Thank the gods that he had Mayor Goodwin to handle things. He didn¡¯t want to be stuck in that mansion, listening to petitions all day.


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    Instead, Mathew could do pretty much whatever he wanted. Occasionally, he would tour the town and let out a blast of ¡®Fear,¡¯ just as a reminder if someone stepped out of line. But those times were few and far between. Mostly, he just let his underlings do the work while he sat back and watched.


    ¡°Did you get everything you wanted?¡± Mathew asked Yule when she finally reached him. The young woman nodded while she put her notebook back in her satchel.


    ¡°Good. Who were the three people with Algrond? They never introduced themselves.¡± Mathew asked.


    When Algrond and the others approached, they attacked immediately, and Mathew hadn¡¯t had much of an opportunity to speak with them.


    ¡°Lord Rothferd, Lord Alswyn and Lady Rosyln. Their territories are to the west of Lord Algrond¡¯s.¡± Yule paused and bit her lip before continuing.


    ¡°They are very minor in the ranks of the Lineage. I believe they owe bonds of allegiance through certain¡­dalliances by Algrond''s father.¡± Yule finished, and Mathew looked at her with confusion. It took her a moment to understand that Mathew was clueless regarding her meaning.


    ¡°Algrond¡¯s father was a known philanderer.¡± Yule clarified, and Mathew¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡°Oh! So they are all related.¡± Mathew stated, and Yule shrugged.


    ¡°If you believe the rumours. The Chronicles are¡­vague in that regard.¡±


    ¡°Too bad. It would have made for better reading. Make sure you include all the juicy tidbits in your section. I can¡¯t have people being bored when they read about me. Feel free to embellish if you want. Dozens of concubines, mountains of skulls and a throne of gold. That sort of thing.¡± Mathew said, waving his hand vaguely.


    ¡°I won¡¯t lie, even for you.¡± Yule rebuked him, and Mathew let out a laugh.


    ¡°Embellish! There¡¯s a difference. Maybe there were a dozen Lords and Ladies here today, and I fought them off with one hand. Just spice it up a bit; I¡¯m giving you full creative licence.¡± Mathew said as the pair walked back toward Reesh.


    ¡°The god of Accumulated Knowledge is not interested in ¡®spicy¡¯ stories, Lord Mathew. I am a seeker of truth.¡± Yule responded.


    ¡°Fine, but don¡¯t blame me when people complain about your chronicle. It will be full of, ¡®and then Demon Lord Mathew watched as workers extended the road through Reesh and built a barn.¡¯ Or ¡®Demon Lord Mathew fought off Algrond and his cronies for an hour and then went to have a bath.¡¯¡± Mathew pitched his voice higher to imitate Yule.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°The bastard will pay for this humiliation!¡± Algrond cursed as he slammed his gauntleted fist into the stone wall of his castle. He left an indentation on the stone as evidence of his prodigious strength. Everyone in the room, including the other Lords and Ladies, watched in concern as he vented his anger.


    ¡°Time and again, he taunts me! How is he this strong!? Even against four of our Lineage, he bests us.¡± Algrond shouted, the thumps of his fist accompanying his words.


    ¡°It is said that he is constantly training. The villagers report that he is gone from Reesh for days, even weeks, at a time. And when he returns, he often brings treasures or news of his accomplishments. He had opened new fields by driving the undead out of the south and the spiders from the silver mines.¡± Natisha spoke up as her grandfather finally grew silent.


    The others in the room were too afraid of the Lord to speak, but Natisha, as her grandfather¡¯s favourite, had no fear of his anger.


    ¡°Training. You call these acts ¡®training,¡¯ but I see it for what it is. A Demon Lord thirsting for violence and blood. He knows that killing in Reesh will draw more attention from the other Lineages, so he goes out of his way to hide his ¡®tastes.¡¯¡±  Nathaniel countered.


    The comment set off a series of muttering and whispers in the room. But it was the silent Algrond that everyone watched.


    ¡°Perhaps you are correct. For too long, we have coasted on the power of our bloodline. Idle and indolent. No more.¡± Algrond muttered. He had been living in his father¡¯s shadow for his entire life. Too many women, too much wine. He was soft.


    His fights against this Demon Lord proved it. His father would have killed Mathew, accomplishing what his son failed to do on multiple occasions.


    There had never been a need for him to focus, to deny himself the privileges that his station afforded him.


    Never again would he suffer a humiliation like this. And neither would his lineage. They would be better. He would be better.


    A change came over the Aeolian Lineage after that day. No longer were there dark whispers about their habits and behaviours. They were united in a singular purpose, and nothing would distract them from it.

 Chapter 98 – Floor 9: Part 19

    <u>Chapter 98</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 19


    ¡°We need to put an end to this.¡± Mathew muttered while he watched the destruction being waged in the distance. His hands were clenched into fists, and an air of violence was about him.


    ¡°We will, but not right now. This was the plan from the beginning; it''s too late to change it.¡± Alivia responded. She had taken her deck of cards into her hands and was idly shuffling them in a show of nonchalance that was betrayed by her shaking fingers.


    After the second mis-shuffle, she put the deck back into her inventory.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize the plan would cause so many deaths. If I had, I would never have agreed to it. I should have known better.¡± Mathew replied.


    ¡°None of this is on you or any of us. Mercy and the others would have killed as many of the locals even if the fighting had never reached their domains. I assumed the conflict would be restricted to the Lords and Ladies going after the Lower Ranks.¡± Aster explained.


    She was picking at her dress in an attempt to remove lint and dirt from the garment that didn¡¯t exist, anything to keep her gaze from the battlefield.


    The Upper Ranks had heard that a large group of Lords and Ladies of the Lineage were finally making their move against the Lower Ranks. An army consisting of tens of thousands, led by an alliance of the major figures amongst the local Lords were assaulting Mercy¡¯s territory.


    Aster had created portals to bring Mathew and the others to this hill a few miles away from the capital city of Mercy¡¯s Domain, where it was under siege. The local forces ringed the walls of the city where mages hurled magic, and trebuchets flung pots of burning pitch and large rocks at the defenders.


    Mathew could hear the sounds of fighting and the screams of the dying from where he stood, but he made no move to interfere. Neither did any of the others.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what they told those folks to get them on their side, but they don¡¯t have any qualms about dying for Mercy.¡± Aleks observed. Taking a drag of his cigarette, he was the only one amongst their group who seemed completely unfazed by the fighting.


    ¡°The Adherents could be persuasive. I would imagine that Mercy retains some of the Blessings from her time with the Outer Deity.¡± Joseph suggested.


    ¡°Not just her. We¡¯ve seen the effects that ¡®Beguiler¡¯ had on us. These locals would be completely unprepared to deal with it. Carlie could likely whip them up into a frenzy all by herself.¡± Marvin said, joining in the discussion.


    He had been uncharacteristically quiet since they had arrived, this was the first time he had spoken since stepping through the portal.


    ¡°If she is even here. It could just be Mercy in that city.¡± Alivia replied.


    ¡°They are all here. It was agreed that they would have a ¡®show of force.¡¯¡± Kristen adjusted her hood to keep it low over her eyes from the sun overhead. The ¡®Prophet¡¯ had been the one to warn the group of this battle using her Blessings.


    ¡°If we know that, then we can assume the Lineages know it as well. Hopefully, they kill each other off, and we can get off this gods forsaken Floor as soon as possible.¡± Aster exclaimed.


    ¡°So what? We just stand here while they burn that city to the ground? What about all the people inside?¡± Mathew shouted, spinning around to look at the others desperately.


    Yule watched him with pity. She had been with him for nearly a year and knew Mathew well enough to understand that he did not want to harm the innocent. He could be harsh and scary; Yule had seen it firsthand, but never to anyone who didn¡¯t deserve it.


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    ¡°They are already dead. It doesn¡¯t matter who wins this conflict. If Mercy and the others come out on top, they¡¯ll just throw the locals into another battle or use them for ¡®entertainment.¡¯¡± Aster explained.


    ¡°And if the Lineages succeed, they will kill everyone that may be ¡®tainted¡¯ by the Demon Lord¡¯s corruption. It will be the same in our territories.¡± Alivia added.


    ¡°This is why we are here, Mathew. This is what the gods sent us to accomplish. We are the fire that burns away the stagnation gripping this floor. We are the ¡®evil¡¯ that will unite the people against us. Once that is accomplished, we may leave.¡± Kristen explained.


    ¡°We can do that without destroying an entire city!¡± Mathew yelled, gesturing with his hand at the devastation the conflict was creating.


    ¡°We are. But they aren¡¯t.¡± Joseph muttered.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect the Upper Ranks to be content with gaining a reputation in dribs and drabs. After this, they will have more than enough to fulfill their objective.¡± Aster added.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. I¡¯m putting an end to this.¡± Mathew said. His face was as hard as stone, and his blue eyes were like ice. Yule shivered as a violent swirl of mana surrounded him.


    ¡°And how are you going to do that? Take on the army of the Lineages? And what about after that? Are you going to go in and kill Mercy and the others as well?¡± Alivia scoffed and shook her head before continuing.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. You¡¯re the weakest one here, Mathew. You¡¯re what? Level 25 or 26? I got ten Levels on you, and you can bet that Mercy has more than that. Unless you got something hidden up your sleeve, you¡¯re not doing anything against that much strength.¡±


    ¡°30. I¡¯m level 30.¡± Mathew muttered, not taking his eyes from the army below. There were probably over a dozen Lords and Ladies amongst them, all of them stronger than Algrond.


    ¡®Could I take them?¡¯ Mathew thought. It didn¡¯t matter, he had to try. He wasn¡¯t going to let all those innocent people die. The Lineages, along with Mercy and the Lower Ranks, needed to be removed. Everyone else would be spared.


    ¡°You¡¯re crazy if you think you can do that! Stand back and I promise we¡¯ll do something after things settle a bit.¡± Alivia said in an attempt to reason with him.


    ¡°She¡¯s right. Now is no time to be-.¡± Aster was interrupted before she could finish her sentence.


    ¡°I¡¯m with you.¡± Marvin expressed. He had taken a long rapier out of his inventory and was taking large, exaggerated swings with it to loosen up his shoulder. The blade was much longer than any Mathew had ever seen before, and it shone with a purplish light.


    Alivia¡¯s eyes widened as if she couldn¡¯t believe the degree of stupidity on display.


    ¡°Screw it.¡± Aleks flicked his cigarette, and the butt landed on the ground in a spray of sparks. He adjusted his belt and checked his revolver in its holster.


    ¡°You¡¯re all mad.¡± Alivia whispered in surprise.


    ¡°Pissed is more like it. I¡¯m going as well. We¡¯ll take out the Lineages first and then put that Adherent into the ground where she belongs.¡± Joseph said. His weapon was a cane, and he twirled it dramatically before pulling a blade out from the handle.


    ¡°Great, four of you will make such a difference. You¡¯re all going to die.¡± Aster grumbled. She stood with her arms crossed as she watched the four men make their preparations. Mathew looked from one person to the next before nodding.


    ¡°I need more power.¡± Mathew whispered. He began to pull out cube after cube of Aether from his inventory and placed them on the ground at his feet. After the first three cubes made their appearance, his companions paused. After half a dozen, they watched him carefully.


    Once the number reached twenty, they began to look at him like he was a madman.


    Mathew made a small pyramid of all the cubes of Aether he had accumulated in his time on this floor. He had been hoarding them for this moment. With a shout, he stomped down on the pile with his foot, shattering the delicate cubes and releasing a torrent of Aether.


    The ground was covered with a blue haze, and the air filled with the overwhelming spicy scent of Aether. Mathew screamed as his skin was flooded with energy. Aether soaked into his body, and the feeling it brought was akin to being held over hot coals.


    It was all he could do for long moments to keep hold of his sanity. When the feeling finally faded, the blue haze dispersed, and the smell of spice retreated, it left Mathew panting from the exertion. But he wasn¡¯t done yet.


    Ignoring the horrified looks of those around him, Mathew opened his status screen and used his accumulated Aether to Level up.


    A vortex of mana formed around Mathew, with him in its very center. The energy was so thick that his body was obscured from the others.


    Again and again, it repeated. Level 31¡­.32. It went on and on until, finally, it stopped.


    Mathew felt stronger than he had ever felt before. When he checked his status, he was surprised by what he saw.


    Level 40.


    ¡®I just hope it''s enough.¡¯ Mathew thought as he closed the screen and began to run down the hill toward the waiting army of the Lineage.

 Chapter 99 – Floor 9: Part 20

    <u>Chapter 99</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 20


    Mathew raced across the ground; his footsteps never left a single footprint in the muddy ground as his ¡®Pass Without Trace¡¯ obscured his passage. He had never moved faster; his increased body stat from his level-ups propelled him forward quicker than thought.


    He was nearly upon the first line of defenders who were guarding their tents, baggage and supplies at the rear of the army when they finally noticed him. Shouts and screams erupted as they turned toward him, readied their spears, or drew swords.


    Hundreds were wearing heavy armour and the white tabards that symbolized their dedication to the Lineage that had drawn them together into this conflict. Mathew didn¡¯t know much about the Lineages, only that Algrond was a part of the ¡®Aeolian¡¯ line.


    ¡°For the Lightmore Lineage!¡± They screamed in unison, expressing their allegiance. To Mathew, who knew nothing of the Lords and Ladies of ¡®Lightmore,¡¯ their shouts were meaningless. He didn¡¯t even bother to remove a weapon from his inventory. Instead, Mathew chose to trust in his Blessings.


    ¡°Fear.¡± Mathew whispered, and a cloak of mana surrounded him. Like a swirling darkness, his figure was momentarily obscured from the men and women of the army in front of him. Hundreds of eyes lost track of Mathew as his Blessing took effect.


    Before they could respond, the lowly figure of Demon Lord Mathew was replaced by something out of their nightmares.


    Its demonic stature dwarfed anything they had seen before. It was cloaked in darkness, something of shadows and gloom. It rode on a horse as dark as night, and its hooves made a thunderous noise as it approached.


    Mathew had taken out the small figurine of a horse while the forces arrayed against him were distracted. With a small breath of mana, he summoned his horse ¡®Midnight.¡¯


    The lead soldiers, wielding large pikes, shivered and trembled in terror as the sound of the horse echoed to their ears. Each step the demon horse took toward them was one step closer to their deaths. The Demon Lord''s eyes glowed crimson, and each man and woman swore they could feel the bloodlust and hatred that dwelled within them.


    They weren¡¯t sure who was the first to break amongst them, one moment they were united in their desire to face a Demon Lord and bring them to justice for their Lineage, and the next moment they were tossing down their weapons and fleeing for their lives.


    Dozens, then hundreds, ran amongst the tents and crates of supplies in their effort to escape the approaching horsemen.


    Mathew ignored them; he didn¡¯t need to concern himself with the rabble of the army. He was hunting the Lords and Ladies of this ¡®Lightmore¡¯ Lineage. He would also send them running, then turn his attention to Mercy and the other Upper Ranks.


    His objective for this floor was to build a reputation. He couldn¡¯t think of a better way to do that than defeating both sides in this conflict.


    Mathew was a ¡®Villain¡¯ after all, it was time he acted like it.


    Pushing Midnight onwards, he spared a glance at the men and women scrambling to get away from the effects of his ¡®Fear.¡¯ Of all his Blessings, it was the best at clearing away a crowd.


    He had barely made it through the first line when he slowed Midnight¡¯s gallop and came to a stop. A single person remained the effects of his ¡®Fear¡¯ evidently having no effect on them.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    It was a man in his thirties if Mathew could judge it correctly. Wearing heavy silver armour, he had a long spear dug into the ground with the head pointing toward the sky. It glittered in the light and Mathew could feel the mana around it, indicating its magical nature.


    The man tightened his gauntlet casually as he assessed Mathew, who, in turn, deactivated his ¡®Fear¡¯ since it was having no effect on this Lord.


    ¡°Alfred, of the Lightmore Lineage.¡± The man introduced himself, and Mathew had to admit, these Lords and Ladies, as terrible as their reputations could be, had impeccable manners.


    They could be bloodthirsty sociopaths who bathed in the blood of children and set towns on fire, but they would make sure you knew who they were before they did it. Mathew didn¡¯t know anything about this particular Lord, but Yule had told him that very few were ¡®good.¡¯


    Mathew climbed down from Midnight and sent the horse back to his inventory with a gesture before responding.


    ¡°Mathew.¡± He said simply while drawing on his mana to fuel his first blessing. Villains never waited for the enemy to attack first. Mathew sent out a bolt of energy; the white light was far thicker and stronger than what he had been capable of only the day before.


    Rather than be surprised at the sudden attack, the Lord picked up his spear and sidestepped the bolt of light with a small twist of his body that didn¡¯t even require moving his feet. As he was still turning, Alfred hurled his spear with enough force that Mathew heard a loud ¡®boom.¡¯


    ¡°Catapult.¡± Mathew muttered, flicking his finger toward the spear. He had been practicing it, changing the trajectory of a projectile while it was moving.


    Someday, he hoped to do something special with it, but for now, he could only send the spear flying sideways, where it buried itself into the ground far to Mathew¡¯s left. Another flick of his finger sent it back toward Alfred, spinning wildly with the force.


    Mathew followed up on the attack by activating his ¡®Blur¡¯ Blessing. His body began to twist and turn like a hazy mirage, doubling and then tripling his image to the point where no one would know where his true self was.


    Alfred dashed forward toward his returning spear and leapt gracefully over it. Spinning midair, he gripped the spear by its wood shaft and twisted it to fall back onto the ground at a full sprint toward Mathew''s distorted figure.


    ¡°Nice trick! You¡¯d do great in the circus!¡± Mathew taunted, each of his mirages moving in unison. He was concerned about the Lord before him. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ was silent, giving him an idea of his opponent''s power.


    For the first time during their fight, Alfred showed a hint of emotion. A frown appeared on his face, and Mathew could feel the anger in the man as he drew back the spear in his grasp and stabbed forward.


    ¡°Fatal Moon, Leaping Needle.¡± Alfred hissed, and his spear glowed with an orange halo. There was a loud ¡®crack¡¯ as his spear pierced Mathew¡¯s illusionary form, missing his true body while Mathew continued to evade.


    ¡®Crack¡¯ ¡®Crack¡¯ ¡®Crack¡¯


    Again and again, the spear missed its target, and Mathew¡¯s taunting continued unabated. He was trying to rile up his opponent, and based on how red Alfred was becoming, it was working wonderfully.


    ¡°Fancy attacks won¡¯t do you any good, Alfie. Here, let me show you how it''s done.¡± Mathew said, sidestepping another attack of the spear. To his eyes, every movement Alfred made was unbearably slow. Compared to the fiends Mathew faced on the seventh floor, Alfred just wasn¡¯t anything special.


    ¡°Halt Movement!¡± Mathew shouted. Alfred paused for a moment, the effects of the Blessing unable to freeze him entirely for long, but even a single second was enough for this fight. Mathew used the opportunity to move in close and punch the Lord in the face.


    There was no special skill involved, no finesse or proficiency. Mathew decked him with all of his might.


    Alfred fell backwards from the blow, stunned at the turn of events. He felt the spear being tugged out of his grip, and he was unable to stop it from being taken.


    Mathew twirled the magical spear in his hands, admiring the feeling. It came from the ¡®Shop,¡¯ that much was clear from the feeling its mana gave him. Everything from the shop had a certain ¡®Aura¡¯ about it and he had enough of its magical items to recognize it instantly.


    ¡°Very nice.¡± Mathew muttered. Before Alfred could hit the ground, Mathew struck out with the side of the spear and cracked Alfred on the temple. The Lord collapsed unconscious, and Mathew placed the magical spear in his inventory next to the other pilfered items he had taken from Algrond¡¯s grandchildren.


    ¡°That¡¯s one.¡± Mathew whispered, already moving past the unconscious Lord. He had no intention of killing him or taking him prisoner. Better to just leave him here. If he escaped, that would carry tales of his exploits, and Mathew was sure it would help his reputation.


    He was a Villain, not a monster.

 Chapter 100 – Floor 9: Part 21

    <u>Chapter 100</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 21


    Yule was out of breath when she finally reached Mathew and the others. The army had pulled back slightly from where the Demon Lords made their excursion, and no matter how hard she ran, she couldn¡¯t keep up with them.


    By the time she saw Mathew once more, he and the Upper Ranked Demon Lords were facing off against an equal number of Lords and Ladies of the Lightmore Lineage. The army formed a half circle around them, cautiously waiting for the outcome where they knew they would have no hope of interfering.


    Clearly, the Demon Lords were out of the league of the regular troops. Yule had witnessed the army falling whenever they encountered them, with Mathew leading the charge with his strange Blessing that caused terror and panic throughout the ranks.


    Mathew himself stood with the others, their unimpeded rampage through the army finally halted by the cluster of Lords and Ladies. One, showing a bruised face and bloody lip, glared at Mathew with hatred.


    Yule whispered a quick prayer to the god of Accumulated Knowledge that she was here to witness this and pulled out her notebook to take notes. The other Chroniclers, all older than her, were still making their way toward them.


    ¡°I am Miriam, Paragon of the Lightmore Lineage.¡± A tall, heavily armoured woman introduced herself from the front of the pack of Lords and Ladies. She had a sword held in one hand. The blade was as long as her body and curved slightly upwards.


    Rather than having the silvery metallic surface of steel, the sword was pure white, and Yule could hear it thrum with the power of mana.


    The woman was older, in her fifties or sixties, although appearances could be deceiving with those of the Lineage. Yule knew who this woman was; Miriam was mentioned in the chronicles. She was the founder of the Lightmore Lineage and had faced the original Demon Lords centuries before.


    Yule felt an icy feeling creep through her body at the thought of Mathew facing such a person. The stories about Miriam spoke of a cruel person who would excise anything she thought was evil with brutal force.


    She had destroyed cities in the original conflict for the crime of merely coming into brief contact with a Demon Lord. Her justification had been that the light of good must always cleanse the dark, but Yule had seen paintings and read descriptions of the slaughter.


    Nothing could justify it to her.


    ¡°They always are so polite. Let¡¯s get this over with and move on to Mercy and the others.¡± Mathew muttered, holding out his hand to pull something from his inventory. He was stopped by the sightless prophet, Kristen.


    ¡°That is not the way to handle this. You have done your part; it is time for someone else to step forward.¡± Kristen turned toward the Illusionist, Joseph, who seemed momentarily taken aback by being called upon.


    ¡°Are you sure? Shouldn¡¯t we just attack all at once? We have the numbers.¡± Marvin offered, and Alivia nodded her head in agreement.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    Before anyone else could speak, the sound rang out, and Mathew let out a sigh as he checked the message.


    Bonus Objective:


    Defeat the Lightmore Lineage in single combat.


    Reward: 500 Reputation.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°Great. Looks like single combat it is. Good luck.¡± Mathew said the last part to Joseph, who was shaking his head after reading the notification from the gods.


    ¡°Fine. Watch how it''s done.¡± Joseph said, straightening his jacket with a flourish. He twirled his cane dramatically as he stepped for and gave an extravagant bow to those assembled.


    ¡°I am Joseph, Illusionist extraordinaire of Las Vegas, Nevada.¡± Joseph introduced himself after straightening from his bow.


    ¡°You are well mannered for a Demon. Your death will be remarked upon in the chronicles of my life.¡± Miriam said, sweeping her sword forward and taking a stance with both hands on the hilt. Joseph shrugged in response and pulled the blade from his cane.


    ¡°I must admit, I¡¯m not much of a fighter. I¡¯ve always been more of an entertainer myself. But I picked up a few tricks during my time in the Tower. If you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d rather not drag things out. I only put on my best performances when I¡¯m getting paid; I¡¯m sure you understand.¡± Joseph said.


    Rather than respond, Miriam dashed forward. Her strength propelled her across the ground, and a cloud of dust exploded from the earth where her feet had been. The blade of her sword was steady as it pointed directly at Joseph¡¯s heart.


    ¡°Fatal Moon, Leaping Needle.¡± Miriam commanded, and her blade glowed with a bright, inner white light. Mathew recognized the attack as the same that Alfred had used. It made sense; they were from the same lineage after all. It was undoubtedly some technique shared between them.


    Joseph was unfazed by the oncoming attack. As quickly as Miriam was moving, Joseph was faster. He moved his cane in a large circle, starting from the ground at his feet and clockwise around himself. At the end, he stated the command word for his Blessing.


    ¡°Invisibility.¡±


    Joseph disappeared from sight, and the Blessing took Miriam off-guard. Her sword, which had been aiming for the illusionist''s heart, stabbed into nothing, and she came to a stop where Joseph had been standing. Immediately, she struck out in a wide arc, hoping to strike him before the Demon Lord moved too far.


    Her sword made a piercing scream as it cut through the air but failed to strike its target. Just as she was about to try again, Joseph reappeared in midair with the blade from his cane already striking downward toward her.


    Miriam leapt backwards to avoid the thin sword, and Joseph landed back on the ground where she had been only moments before.


    ¡°Shoot. I thought that would work.¡± Joseph muttered, straightening from his crouch and returning the blade to his cane with a ¡®click.¡¯ He didn¡¯t see too upset by his failure; instead, he raised his cane and twirled it once more.


    ¡°Demon, your tricks won¡¯t work on me.¡± Miriam replied, redying her sword for another attack.


    ¡°Sure they will! I¡¯m just warming up. You know what they say if at first you don¡¯t succeed.¡± Joseph smiled as he removed his top hat and gave it a shake.


    ¡°For my next trick! Observe, an ordinary hat.¡± The Illusionist held his top hat horizontally to give Miriam and the others on her side of the battlefield a better view. Rather than play along, the Lady of Lightmore was already moving.


    In a moment, she was standing in front of Joseph, her blade streaking toward his neck. Yule let out a gasp at the unexpected movement.


    ¡®So fast!¡¯ Yule thought. She had never seen such quickness from a person before. She fully expected to see the Demon Lord¡¯s head removed from his body when the blade passed through his body as if it weren¡¯t there at all.


    ¡®An Illusion!¡± Yule gasped out loud and blushed red in embarrassment when she noticed the other Demon Lords look at her. Joseph laughed as Miriam cautiously retreated from the illusory figure.


    ¡°Ahh! You fell for it. I guess my tricks do work on you.¡± The illusion faded, and the Illusionist reappeared on the other side of the battlefield. It had been an illusion that had attacked Miriam; Joseph¡¯s real body had been invisible the whole time.


    The real Joseph held his hat in a similar manner as his illusion had. With a grin, he tapped on the back with his cane.


    ¡°And now, for my next trick. Abra Cadabra.¡±


    From the opening in the top hat, a clawed hand emerged. Gripping the velvet sides of the hat, it dug its talons into the fabric as it hauled itself forward.


    A figure of fire and shadow emerged, its body made of stone and obsidian. Beastlike and larger than a horse, Yule was stunned that such a creature could be contained within a hat, no matter what magic the Illusionist employed.


    ¡°I must admit, this trick is a bit of a cheat. I couldn¡¯t pull this off in the past. Well, I could, but it was only birds and bunny rabbits. And I don¡¯t think a bunny wouldn¡¯t have been enough. But, thankfully, I learned a bit of Conjuration magic to pull it off.¡± Joseph said while watching in satisfaction as a monster emerged from his hat.


    When the beast stood before him, growling and spewing flames from its mouth, Joseph placed the hat back on his head.


    ¡°So, go do your thing, Fire Elemental.¡± He paused and then slapped his palm over his forehead as if he had forgotten something important.


    ¡°That¡¯s right! I almost forgot!¡± Joseph drew in a deep breath and shouted.


    ¡°Ta-da!¡±

 Chapter 101 – Floor 9: Part 22

    <u>Chapter 101</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 22


    With the emergence of the Fire Elemental, the thin veneer of honour and civility between the two sides burned away like dry grass caught in an inferno.


    The Elemental resembled a great, fiery wolf with a body made of magma that would harden as the cold air chilled it, only to melt from the heat the beast emitted. It snarled and pawed at the ground, barely under Joseph¡¯s control.


    At that point, the battle entered a new stage. Gone were the polite, one-on-one combat that had defined the conflict at the beginning. Yule, her eyes opened wide and fearful of missing a single exchange, filled out her notebook with scribblings by the time it had reached its conclusion.


    The titanic clash of powers beyond what mortals should be capable of resulted in terrible devastation of the lands outside of the city. The army, already falling back when Mathew and the others assaulted them, retreated nearly a mile away and watched as their Lords and Ladies fought the Demon Lords.


    They watched as great gouts of fire reached the clouds above them, and the wind carried the howls of the summoned monster, the chants of magic and the screams of victory and defeat.


    After hours, the conflict reached its conclusion.


    Mathew knelt on the ground, panting in a combination of exhaustion and pain. His hand was held over a deep gash in his side where a spear had punctured his magical jacket.


    The Coward¡¯s Brand, despite its protections and the enhanced resistant to attacks in granted, was unable to stop it from stabbing into him as Alfred finally got his revenge for their earlier encounter. Mathew had given as good as he had gotten and had sent the Lordling flying away with a blast of energy that knocked him unconscious once more.


    The wound in his side wasn¡¯t the only injury he had received. Mathew was battered and bruised to the point where even multiple potions had no immediate effect. Gritting his teeth, he tried to push the pain away and focus on the moment.


    The field around them was scorched, and the ground churned muddy from the fierce fighting. The summoned fire elemental was long gone, returned to where Joseph had summoned it after Miriam cut it in half.


    The Lady of Lightmore was still alive, although she looked the worse for wear. Her lineage was in full retreat, the battle enough to prove that the Demon Lords with Mathew was more than their match, although not enough to end the fighting completely.


    The Lords and Ladies of Lightmore would be back with an army at their backs, but Mathew didn¡¯t care. Word would spread of the Demon Lord¡¯s victory here, propelling their reputations toward their goal.


    Hopefully, someone among the populace would take this opportunity to rise up against their oppressors, especially since Mathew and the other had proven that the Lightmore Lineage wasn¡¯t untouchable.


    But that was someone else¡¯s problem. Mathew was just here to be the fire that cleared away the rot from a world left to stagnate for too long.


    ¡°Are you going to live, or should I start thinking about something nice to say at your funeral?¡± Mathew turned his thoughts away from the retreating army to look at Alivia. The Drafter was joined by Aster who was covered in flecks of mud from the melee. Both women looked as if they had been rolling around on the ground.


    Mathew groaned as he lifted his hand to check the wound at his side. The bleeding had stopped, but it would be a while before it healed. It was one of the worst injuries he had since the Seventh Floor, all because he had been distracted for a moment.


    He had been protecting Alivia while she was busy drawing cards. While the Drafter hurled a ball of fire the size of a horse at the Lords of Lightmore, Mathew had intercepted the spear meant for her heart.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    While the words Alivia said were flippant, he could tell she was concerned for him. Her eyes were locked onto his wound, and, for a moment, he could see the guilt and worry on her face.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Better it was me than you. Didn¡¯t you tell me that Drafter doesn¡¯t give you much of a stat boost?¡± Mathew said, trying to climb to his feet but failing.


    His knee had barely left the muddy ground when he collapsed back down. His legs were too weak and shaky to carry his weight. He would have fallen face-first into the mud if Alivia hadn¡¯t rushed forward to grab him.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t. But that doesn¡¯t mean I wanted you to get yourself killed for me. You don¡¯t need to be a hero.¡± Alivia grumbled.


    ¡°But I¡¯m so good at it.¡± Mathew joked, leaning onto her heavily as she helped him to his feet. His small chuckle was ruined by a sharp hiss as the movement pulled at his wound, and a flash of pain shot across his body.


    Aster moved to his other side, silently helping until she scoffed at his words.


    ¡°Maybe if you didn¡¯t go running off like an idiot in the first place, we could have come up with a plan. Now, we need to face Mercy, and the others and half of our number are out of commission.¡± Aster complained.


    ¡°We needed to act. I wasn¡¯t going to leave the locals to fight and die while I just sat on my ass and watched.¡± Mathew retorted.


    ¡°Can you level up again? I have some Aether cubes if you need them.¡± Alivia asked.


    ¡°Good idea. I have some as well. But we need to be quick; Mercy will be on her way. I¡¯m surprised she isn¡¯t already here.¡± Aster replied, only for Mathew to shake his head.


    ¡°Too late. They¡¯re already here.¡± Mathew muttered, his voice tired and resigned.


    ¡°Ahh, I¡¯m sorry we missed all the fun! It looks like you all had quite a trying time! Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re here to help.¡± Carlie¡¯s voice rang out sweetly, announcing the arrival of the six Lower-Ranked Demon Lords.


    They stepped out of thin air, some Blessing one of them possessed allowing them to travel the short distance from the interior of the city to outside the wall.


    Mathew tried to straighten his body, to hide his injuries, but it was no use. The simple movement of trying to stand upright sent him lurching in pain, and the wound on his stomach reopened. The potion, which could normally heal the most grievous of injuries, strangely was unable to do anything.


    ¡°You seem to be in pain, Demon Lord Mathew. Allow me to heal your injuries. Blood is my¡­specialty.¡± Osmund offered. He stepped away from the others and toward Mathew when Aster readied the spear she removed from her inventory.


    ¡°Take another step, and Mathew¡¯s injuries will be the least of your concerns.¡± Aster threatened.


    ¡°Now, now. We¡¯re all friends here. We are only offering to help. After all, it seems that Mathew''s potions aren¡¯t having any effect. I wonder why¡­its almost as if something is interfering with them.¡± Carlie stated, tapping her long, red-painted fingernail against her full lips.


    ¡°What did you do?¡± Alivia growled. She had her deck of cards in hand, but her support kept Mathew on his feet.


    ¡°Oh, nothing much. It¡¯s not me doing it, but Ludwig has a talent for making things like potions and magical items¡­not so magical.¡± Carlie said, laughing as the small, ugly Ludvig smiled and waved.


    ¡°It¡¯s a wretched existence we all lead. Not even the gods can alleviate our suffering. You really should avail yourself of Osmund¡¯s services. I don¡¯t think Demon Lord Mathew has much time left.¡± Ludvig told the group.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. Submit to us, and all will be well.¡± Mercy added, her arms crossed smugly as she watched them.


    Mathew coughed violently, the movement worsening the wound as he fell to his knees. His clothing was soaked with blood, and nothing Alivia could do would stem the tide.


    ¡°Poor Mathew. Looks like you¡¯ve endured enough. It¡¯s a pity you won¡¯t be living up to the title the Apostle granted you. Or you could if you only ask for our help.¡± Mercy sighed as if she were speaking to a stubborn child who refused to listen.


    ¡°Mathew, you need to hold on! Aster, get us a portal out of here.¡± Alivia hissed.


    ¡°It¡¯s no use. Only Wretched Ludvig can allow you to do that, and we have no intention of letting any of you leave. Not without certain¡­assurances.¡± Mercy finished, aware that she had the upper hand.


    Alivia looked to Aster, but her friend shook her head in the negative. She had tried her item to get them out of there, but it refused to activate. Mathew knelt on the ground with his hand over his wound, trying to stem the flow of blood.


    But it was useless. He now knew why the potions weren¡¯t working and why the wound that had shown signs of healing was worsening. Osmund and Ludvig, the combination of their Blessings, meant that existing wounds would get worse, and potions were useless.


    ¡®What do I do?¡¯ Mathew thought, looking around desperately for a solution. He knew that they would have to fight the other Demon Lords, but he thought they would be in a better situation than this. He had been na?ve to think he could battle everyone on his own, even if he did level up.


    Just when he had lost hope, a voice sounded out behind him. It whispered in Mathew¡¯s ear as if it were right next to him.


    ¡°Poor little Mathew. We had such high hopes for you. It¡¯s a pity that this is as far as you can go. Emily will be so disappointed.¡±

 Chapter 102 – Floor 9: Part 23

    <u>Chapter 102</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 23


    Mathew could see Mercy and the other Demon Lords speaking. Their lips moved, and by their reaction, Alivia and his allies didn¡¯t like what they were saying. But he couldn¡¯t hear anything besides the strange voice that whispered in his ear.


    Despite the pain and the loss of blood, Mathew slowly turned his head to look behind him. He expected to see a stranger but was instead greeted by a friend.


    Samuel knelt on the muddy ground beside him, a cocky grin on his face that Mathew hadn¡¯t seen the man wear in life. His armour, as black as midnight and covered in the blood and filth of the Seventh Floor, still showed the signs of the final battle that had claimed his life.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t real. You¡¯re dead.¡± Mathew whispered in disbelief. But, even though he knew the figure before him couldn¡¯t be genuine, Samuel didn¡¯t fade away or disappear from sight. Instead, he chuckled loudly and shook his head.


    ¡°I am. And maybe this isn¡¯t real, or perhaps it is. You have lost a lot of blood. You¡¯re in quite a sorry state, Mathew. Not so Enduring, are you?¡± Samuel teased.


    Mathew narrowed his eyes in anger at this false image of his deceased friend. Either someone was making a mockery of his deceased friend, or his own mind was playing tricks on him. But to what purpose?


    ¡°Ahh, Mathew. I meant what I said. What would Emily think of you? Kneeling here, bleeding out. Maybe you should take Mercy up on her offer? What harm could it do? Bend the knee, beg for healing. Maybe you¡¯ll have some fun while you¡¯re here. Kill a few of the locals and string them up for all to see. You¡¯re a villain, after all; why fight it?¡± Samuel said.


    Smiling, the man patted Mathew on the shoulder before standing once again and pacing in the small gap between Mathew¡¯s companions behind him. No one on either side noticed Samuel amongst them.


    Mathew squeezed his eyes shut tightly against the sight.


    ¡°It¡¯s not real. It¡¯s not real. It¡¯s not real!¡± Mathew hissed, wishing desperately for this to stop.


    ¡°Tut Tut Tut. If wishes were fishes, we¡¯d all swim in riches. I¡¯m hurt that you want me to leave.¡± Samuel mocked. Mathew opened his eyes suddenly to see that the ghost of his friend was still there, grinning down at him. His eyes flicked to the others, but they were all ignoring Mathew.


    Worse, time seemed to crawl to a halt. The world''s vibrant colours turned to grey, while all the sound was stifled and muted. Mathew looked around in wonder.


    ¡°Am I dead as well?¡± He said, and Samuel laughed loudly.


    ¡°Not yet. Not until I¡¯ve said my piece. While I enjoy playing a trick occasionally, time waits for no man¡­even a god is bound to its endless march.¡± Samuel explained, gesturing around at the still world. He paused when Mathew didn¡¯t speak and turned back to him.


    ¡°Figured it out yet? God¡­.Trick¡­ come now, you¡¯re a mortal, but you aren¡¯t stupid.¡± Samuel chided, and Mathew came to a sudden realization.


    ¡°Mischievous Depravity?¡± Mathew murmured, and Samuel broke out in the broadest smile yet. Throwing his hands out wide, he laughed and twirled.


    ¡°Ding Ding Ding! I knew you would figure it out eventually. Although, it''s not entirely accurate. I¡¯m more of an¡­echo, if you will. Less a god, more a figment of your subconscious based on the connection you have with a divinity. Its endlessly boring, what with the rules of the Tower has in place about ¡®interference.¡¯¡± The fake Samuel made air quotes with his fingers.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Awful rules. I can¡¯t believe why anyone would choose to abide by them. But, there are workarounds. A little piece of me, placed inside you, and voila! Your brain crafts the words and the image, while I only need to provide the intention of the message. No rules broken, no direct communication.¡± False Samuel seemed quite pleased with himself, although Mathew had no idea what he was talking about.


    ¡°You¡­aren¡¯t the god. You can¡¯t help me.¡± Mathew muttered in resignation. This was just a messenger, a figment of his imagination the god of Mischievous Depravity was using to pass along a message to him.


    ¡°No, I can¡¯t. But they can. Hence, the purpose of why I am here.¡± False Samuel paused and stepped forward. Bending down, the knee of his black armour dug deeply into the mud, and the fake image of his friend leaned close to Mathew¡¯s face.


    ¡°The god of Mischievous Depravity wishes for me to communicate an offer. Accept the mantle of ¡®Apostle.¡¯ Submit to them, and the power to overcome this floor will be yours.¡± False Samuel whispered enticingly.


    ¡°Apostle.¡± Mathew uttered almost silently.


    ¡°There has been a recent vacancy, and you would fit that role perfectly. The god of Mischievous Depravity has had their eye on you since the Seventh Floor.¡±


    ¡°The Seventh Floor. How? Righteous Subjugation was the only god there¡­¡± Mathew trailed off as a look of horror crossed his face. False Samuel smiled and winked.


    ¡°Not the only god. And, since you were the reason the vacancy exists, it¡¯s only fitting that you fill it.¡±


    ¡°The Outer Deity. Mischievous Depravity is the Outer Deity!¡± Mathew hissed out, regretting it almost instantly as pain flooded his body.


    ¡°Nail on the head. Although, not so ¡®Outer¡¯ now.¡± False Samuel reached forward and flicked Mathew on the nose.


    ¡°So, make your choice. Become the Apostle of Mischievous Depravity; your wounds will heal, and you can send these Demon Lords packing. Dominate the locals, gain your reputation, and you¡¯ll be off to see Emily in no time.¡± False Samuel offered.


    ¡°Emily. Where is she?¡± Mathew asked, his voice coming out in a gasp as he tried to stand.


    ¡°No idea. But they know.¡± False Samuel said, pointing to the sky above them. He smiled before looking back down at Mathew.


    ¡°I do have knowledge of one thing. Aside from the offer, Mischievous Depravity gave you another tidbit in case you weren¡¯t interested. Emily is alive, although for how long, who can say?¡± False Samuel shrugged.


    ¡°Well, time waits for no man or god. And it looks like your time is up, Little Mathew. I did so enjoy our moment together, and I hope that it continues in the future.¡± False Samuel stood up and brushed the mud from his knee. With a cheeky grin, he waved and faded from sight.


    Mathew felt something inside him leave, like a spark of light being smothered. The connection between himself and Mischievous Depravity that housed the ¡®Echo¡¯ bearing the message weakened as False Samuel departed.


    Time regained its normal flow, and Mathew could hear the words being spoken around him once again.


    ¡°- choice. If we don¡¯t, Mathew is going to die.¡± Alivia said quietly to Aster.


    ¡°Apostle.¡± Mathew whispered, ignoring everything around him as he thought about the offer. Sell his soul for power, but in return, he would live. And Emily needed him.


    But could the words of False Samuel be trusted? Mischievous Depravity was the Outer Deity. How could Mathew trust his fate to a being like that? He had seen what it had done to Samuel and to all the other Adherents on the Seventh Floor.


    Was it worth becoming a monster just for him to survive? Would Mathew, as an Apostle, be capable of saving Emily, or would it twist him into something unrecognizable?


    Mathew held his hand against the wound on his stomach as he thought about his dilemma. It wouldn¡¯t matter if the Wretch Ludvig wasn¡¯t here. If he were eliminated, Mathew could heal, and they would have a chance of overpowering the lower ranks.


    ¡®Time to choose, little Mathew.¡¯ The voice whispered in his ear, tempting him with its offer.


    ¡°I won¡¯t become an Apostle.¡± Mathew whispered, and, for the first time, Alivia heard what he was saying.


    ¡°An Apostle? What are you talking about?¡± Alivia asked in confusion. She looked at Aster, but the other woman shook her head in response.


    ¡°Mathew, you need to-¡± She was cut off as Mathew moved suddenly. Reaching into his inventory, he pulled out a dagger and tossed it forward in a smooth motion. No one expected him, an inch away from death, to unexpectedly attack, and that moment of hesitation bought him time to spend his remaining mana on ¡®Catapult.¡¯


    The dagger that had been weakly tossed froze for a second in midair, then shot toward the Wretch Ludvig at blinding speed. The small, ugly man had only a moment to realize what was happening before the dagger buried itself into his shoulder.


    Ludvig spun around and fell onto the ground with a scream. Whatever Blessing he was using to prevent the Potions and Elixirs Mathew had taken from working ceased its effect. Mathew felt a surge of strength as the powerful healing magics battled against Osmund¡¯s blood magic.


    With a shout, Mathew climbed to his feet and charged forward with the mace of Righteous Subjugation already emerging from his inventory.

 Chapter 103 – Floor 9: Part 24

    <u>Chapter 103</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 24


    Mathew¡¯s sudden attack left everyone off guard, and he was nearly on Osmund before they recovered.


    The Blood Sorcerer, whose magic was competing against the healing elixirs trying to heal Mathew¡¯s body, raised his hands and prepared his magic in response to Mathew¡¯s mace sweeping toward him.


    ¡°Blood Glyph of Warding!¡± Osmund shouted, his magic responding to his dire need for protection. A blood-red mist rose from around him, forming a barrier with a brightly glowing rune in the center.


    Mathew¡¯s mace struck the barrier with an earth-shattering force but rebounded. The barrier didn¡¯t escape unscathed. The blow scattered the mist and left Osmund unprotected. Mathew stumbled backwards, off balance and weak.


    ¡°Enough of this bullshit! Kill them all!¡± Mercy shouted.


    The area, which had been relatively calm since the Lords and Ladies of Lightmore had fled, erupted into violence once more. To Mathew, he had only a single purpose in mind. The Blood Sorcerer needed to be removed from the battle if he hoped to recover.


    Whatever magics were at work on his wounds were constantly counteracting the potions he had taken. He wouldn¡¯t die, but Mathew needed all of his strength if he and the others would survive this fight against the Lower Ranks.


    ¡°Rabid dogs should be put down!¡± Osmund screamed, punctuating his statement with a sharp jab of his finger toward Mathew. A black streak of light materialized in front of the Sorcerer and streaked in Mathew¡¯s direction.


    ¡°Enfeeble the Blood!¡± Osmund yelled the name of the curse. Mathew, still off balance and too weak to dodge, could only watch the attack rush at him.


    ¡°Bulwark!¡± The ground rumbled and split apart in front of Mathew. A pillar of earth rose, and the streak of darkness that Osmund summoned slammed into it. The pillar turned black and decayed, turning the hardened earth into dry and blackened sand.


    Aster appeared to the side of Osmund, her lance piercing toward the Blood Sorcerer like a flash of light. Even Osmund, who was at a higher level than the Lancer, couldn¡¯t respond in time to such a lightning-fast attack.


    The silver head of the lance pierced the Blood Sorcerers side and Osmund screamed as he stumbled backwards and slapped a hand over the wound.


    Before Aster could follow up on the attack, a bloodied hand rose out of the ground and tried to grab her. The young woman leaped backwards out of the way and landed back on her feet near Mathew. Osmund laughed, his teeth stained red with blood.


    ¡°So close.¡± The Blood Sorcerer mocked. The Bloody Hand turned to a mist and swirled around Osmund¡¯s feet before flowing up his robes and into the wound on his side. The injury healed, and the Blood Sorcerer stood upright, uninjured and ready to fight.


    ¡°It¡¯s not polite to interrupt, Lady Aster. Perhaps I should teach you manners.¡± Osmund said.


    Gripping the staff with one hand, he ran his other over a sharp edge of the ruby at the top. Slicing through his palm, Osmund let the blood drip onto the ground before gesturing widely with his palm, scattering the crimson liquid all around him.


    ¡°Sanguine Fire.¡± Osmund whispered, and an inferno burst forth from the blood he had scattered on the ground. Aster was forced backwards, shielding her face with her arm as she used her mana to protect her skin from the sudden heat.


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    Mathew wasn¡¯t so lucky. His mana was depleted. He had used the lace dregs of it to hurl the dagger that struck Ludvig; he had no means to protect himself from the flames. He screamed as the heat burnt his flesh, the ends of his hair caught on fire, and he could hardly draw enough of the superheated air to breathe.


    ¡°Mathew!¡± Aster shouted, seeking to protect him as well, but she was pushed back, and Osmund flicked more blood into the flames, causing them to leap higher and burn hotter.


    No one could help them; the others were busy with their own opponents, and Aster could see the battle wasn¡¯t going well for her allies. Even with their superior numbers, they couldn¡¯t easily overcome the gap in power between the Upper and Lower Ranks.


    Mathew felt like he was on fire; the heat was so extreme that it was baking the muddy ground hard. Even with the enhancements to his Body stat that the Mace of Righteous Subjugation gave him, he was weakening.


    The pain of his wound, still present even with the potions coursing through him, prevented him from regaining his mana. Mathew couldn¡¯t access any of his Blessings; he couldn¡¯t ¡®Catapult¡¯ a weapon at Osmund or even attempt to control the magical flames the Blood Sorcerer summoned.


    ¡°So weak. Poor Mathew, are you reconsidering the offer?¡± A voice whispered, so faint that it could have been his imagination. Images of Emily flashed through his mind, accompanied by others who needed him.


    ¡°I won¡¯t fall here.¡± Mathew growled. He forced his eyes to open against the heat and glare of the fire. Gripping the mace in his hands tightly, Mathew let out a growl as he took a step forward. The pain intensified, but he took another.


    Osmund smirked while he watched Aster retreat against his magical fire. He flicked his bleeding hand to stoke the fire while building the mana inside him for his next attack. The flames were adequate for giving him some breathing room and driving back the hated Lancer, but he would need more in order to defeat her.


    Then, he would have his fun. Osmund could already picture the experiments he could conduct with a high-level player like her. The locals here were fine if used in bulk, but there was truly nothing like a Player¡¯s blood for conducting his rituals.


    Osmund licked his lips, filled with anticipation, when something moved within the fires.


    Mathew charged through the flames, his skin burned black in places. He moved like a man possessed, the mace in his hands raised high as he screamed against the agony. Osmund was taken aback at the unexpected development, and that hesitation cost him dearly.


    Mathew leapt forward, the Mace of Righteous Subjugation swinging toward the Blood Sorcerer. With a ¡®crack,¡¯ the mace struck Osmund¡¯s red robes. For a moment, the magical enchantment in the article of clothing held back the attack before they collapsed and Osmund was sent flying backwards.


    The Blood Sorcerer skidded and rolled across the ground before coming to a stop. The flames that were being maintained by his magic winked out of existence, and Mathew could finally feel the effects of the potions begin to work.


    Lowering his mace, Mathew pulled another potion out of his inventory and pulled the cork with his teeth. He spat it out onto the ground and chugged the potion before tossing the empty bottle. Hefting the mace, Mathew looked around.


    ¡°Now¡­who¡¯s next?¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Storm Sphere!¡± Alivia shouted as she pulled the card from her deck and hurled it into the air in front of her. The card shimmered with light, drawing on the mana and Aether from the world around them to fuel its magic.


    The card disappeared, and an orb the size of a house appeared in its place. Like a snow globe containing all of the fury of a thunderstorm inside of it, Alivia pushed against it with her mana to send it flying toward her opponent.


    ¡°HAHAHA, is that the best you have? I was born in a storm!¡± Lucas bellowed. The Brigand threw his axe down onto the ground at his feet and braced himself with both of his arms forward, palms outward.


    The Storm Sphere reached him in a moment, and rather than absorb and surround him with its fury, Lucas gripped it as if it were as solid. His hands glowed with light, and he laughed as the storm began to calm.


    ¡°I like this! I think I¡¯ll take it for myself!¡± Lucas said. The power of his Discipline, ¡®Brigand,¡¯ allowed him to steal the abilities and Blessings of others and use them for himself.


    The Storm Sphere held for a moment before collapsing. In his hands, Lucas held the card that had once belonged to Alivia.


    ¡°Ahhh, too bad. There¡¯s a lot of good Aether in this! It would be a shame to waste it!¡± Lucas said before popping the card in his mouth and chewing. Alivia watched in disgust as the fat man swallowed the card and belched loudly like the crack of thunder.


    She could feel him absorb the mana and Aether within the card, growing stronger from her loss.

 Chapter 104 – Floor 9: Part 25

    <u>Chapter 104</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 25


    Lucas smacked his lips in satisfaction. The mana and Aether of the pilfered card coursed through his vein, empowering him further. ¡®Brigand¡¯ was the perfect Discipline for him, and he silently thanked the gods for granting the option when he levelled up.


    He had been a thief when he lived outside of the Tower until he was caught and spent twenty years in prison for a robbery that went wrong. Lucas had only been out for a few days when the Tower arrived, granting him a new lease on life. And, more importantly, new opportunities.


    ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been looking forward to this. These Locals are too weak, they break too easily.¡± Lucas cracked his knuckles while staring lustfully at the beautiful Drafter.


    He had his eye on here since they had arrived, her and Aster both. He would have put Carlie and Corinna on his ¡®to do¡¯ list as well, but the sisters were too strong for him.


    But Alivia was here now, and Mercy had told him he could do whatever he wanted.


    The way she looked at him with disgust was intoxicating. It was the challenge that made it worthwhile. These locals whimpered and whined, cried and begged for leniency. It became annoying, and it only grew worse once he got started.


    But the defiance that a Player had, that carried them through Floor after Floor of torture and hellish environments was better than a thousand local women. Lucas shuddered in anticipation of the conquest, of Alivia¡¯s eventual surrender.


    It made entering the Tower the best decision he had ever made in his life.


    Alivia took a step back from the Brigand, flicking through her deck nervously. She hadn¡¯t expected him to eat a card! What kind of monster was she dealing with? That card had cost her a fortune in Aether, and he devoured it like it was nothing.


    She had a few stronger ones in her deck, but pulling them out was the problem. A weakness of her Discipline, aside from the minuscule amount of stat increases in brought, was the inability to select the cards she used in combat.


    Alivia could only pray that something would work.


    ¡°I¡¯ve had thousands of women since I¡¯ve been here, but they all lacked that¡­fire, that you and other Players have. They didn¡¯t struggle at all. I missed that.¡± Lucas taunted her as he approached, picking up his axe from the ground as he did so.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to die. You all are. You should let me have some fun before the end. If you think I¡¯m bad, you haven¡¯t seen what Mercy can do.¡± Lucas gestured to his right, where Mercy was facing Joseph in the distance.


    The Illusionist wasn¡¯t doing well at all from the quick glance Alivia could spare. Mercy was toying with him, dashing in close and slashing at him with her nails that had grown into long claws. Her face was twisted with hatred, and Alivia could see small horns protruding from her forehead, a sign of the Fiendish blood that tainted her veins.


    Alivia ignored what was happening over there, focusing on her own fight. She couldn¡¯t help anyone until Lucas was dealt with.


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll enjoy it? I can be tender if I want to be. But if you fight me, I¡¯ll make it unpleasant.¡± Lucas narrowed his eyes, his bearded face turning sinister and evil. He almost seemed eager for her to fight him, and his gaze raked across her body wantonly.


    ¡°Or maybe you are hung up on someone else? Is it Mathew? That punk is on his last legs. Although, I¡¯m surprised he had a bit of fight left in him. Osmund will take that out of him.¡± Lucas said, drawing her attention to the fire surrounding Mathew and blocking him from sight.


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    Aster had already gone to help him, leaving Alivia to delay Lucas while she did so. Mathew and Aster could already be dead for all she knew, the heat from the inferno the Blood Sorcerer summoned had driven everyone away, cutting off Alivia and Lucas.


    But she had faith that Mathew would overcome this. He was the Enduring, after all, a title he had earned on the Seventh Floor when so many other people had died. Hell, he was the one that helped bring down Samuel the Apostle!


    ¡®He has to be alive.¡¯ Alivia thought.


    Lucas watched Alivia stare at the flames, and rage filled him. The Tower had granted him the ability to take anything he wanted, and rather than focus on him and the threats he was stating, the Drafter was gazing at someone else.


    It was just like how it was outside the Tower, all those years before. Nothing changed, and it filled him with a fury that turned his vision red.


    ¡°Fine, we¡¯ll do it the hard way!¡± Lucas bellowed. He ran toward her, his right hand outstretched while his left gripped the axe tightly. His weight caused the earth to shake with every step. Not even the muddy ground could slow his advance.


    ¡°Please.¡± Alivia whispered her prayer to the gods of the Tower as she drew her card. Her fingers shook so much that she could barely grip the card that she pulled from the deck.


    Her prayer had been answered, and the image on the face of the card made her smile in delight. It was of a stick figure surrounded by black lines, snaring it in their grasp.


    ¡°Yes! Stygian Tenaculum!¡± Alivia shouted, the power within her flowing into the card in her hand. She tossed it in front of her, where it disappeared in a puff of dark smoke.


    Lucas could feel something off with the ground beneath his feet. His boots were sinking deeper into the mud like he was walking into a quagmire. Slowing, he frowned when the dark ground turned pitch black, and small, ebony tentacles began to squirm up from the earth and wrap around his ankles.


    ¡°Enough of the tricks!¡± Lucas shouted, swiping at the ground with his axe to separate the black tentacles from his legs. His axe buried into the earth, cutting them in half, but they reformed instantly. In a moment, more appeared, and they were growing larger.


    The ground burst apart, and tentacles as large as Lucas¡¯s body rose all around him. They waved hypnotically for a second before whipping toward him and wrapping around his torso. Lucas dropped his axe as they tightened their grip.


    ¡°Take that, Asshole!¡± Alivia yelled in amusement. The large, fat man was completely engulfed in the black tentacles, and he couldn¡¯t move an inch. They would last as long as her mana did, and she had stores of it.


    With Lucas out of the fight, she could help Mathew and Aster. She was about to take a step toward the billowing inferno of magical flames when she heard a yell of rage erupt from the captured Brigand. The wrapping of black tentacles bulged, and Alivia could feel her mana plummet as Lucas struggled to escape.


    The Brigand¡¯s hands emerged from the cocoon, gripping the edges to pry them apart. Alivia could only watch as his face appeared, a cocky grin in place as he saw her.


    ¡°Miss me?¡± Lucas growled. He ripped the tentacles from the ground and, without pausing, raised them to his mouth and bit down on it. Tearing through them with his teeth, he chewed and swallowed a mouthful of the magical spell.


    ¡°But that was one of my strongest cards.¡± Alivia whispered in disbelief. Even if Lucas had been able to escape the spell, the speed at which he did it surprised her. An icy feeling spread through her body from her stomach, and she backed away in terror as Lucas balled up the remaining tentacles and swallowed them.


    She could feel his power growing, enhancing his physical abilities as he devoured her card¡¯s magic.


    ¡°Now, where were we?¡± Lucas snarled. He picked up his axe and resumed his relentless march forward. Alivia, backing away, stumbled on something unseen on the ground and feel onto her back as the large, fat man loomed over her.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to have some fun, and don¡¯t expect it to end quickly.¡± Lucas threatened. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around her delicate neck and lifted her off the ground with ease. The Drafter struggled to reach her cards, but Lucas shook her roughly, and her deck fell onto the ground.


    ¡°Now, now, none of that. You need to learn to obey, and I¡¯m going to enjoy teaching you. First, I¡¯m going to-¡± Lucas was cut off as a piercing white light split the smoke and haze the fire had created. A silver lance struck him in the arm, biting deep into his flesh before passing on.


    Cursing, Lucas dropped Alivia and turned toward the source of the attack. The flames that Osmund had summoned were gone, and in its place was Aster. Her silver armour glittered in the light, and she reached her hand out, where her lance promptly flew back into her grip.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re tougher than I thought. I¡¯m going to look forward to this.¡± Lucas growled, his lips splitting into a wide grin as he raised his axe and charged the Lancer. Alivia, on the verge of unconsciousness from the rough treatment by the Brigand, desperately tried to reach her cards, but her hand refused to obey.

 Chapter 105 – Floor 9: Part 26

    <u>Chapter 105</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 26


    Joseph was in trouble. As the strongest of the Players amongst his allies, it had been his job to fight Mercy. He had thought that maybe someone else would pair with him to even the odds since Mercy was the strongest of all of them, but things hadn¡¯t worked out the way he hoped.


    First, Mathew went wild and charged straight at the Lords and Ladies of Lightmore, than, to make matters worse, got himself stabbed. Now, Mathew and Aster were lost in the inferno, and he was left with an enraged Fiend Tainted Mercy, who was out for blood.


    Joseph disappeared from sight, his illusionist abilities rendering him invisible to the naked eye, just as Mercy was about to gouge a large piece of his stomach with her claw-like hands. He could only thank the gods that she didn¡¯t have a way to pierce his Invisibility Blessing, or he would have died long ago.


    Still, it wasn¡¯t perfect. He left traces on the ground, and his scent lingered in the air, allowing Mercy to track him. At best, it gave him a brief respite and the chance to relocate and strike at her again.


    But that strategy wouldn¡¯t last forever. Mercy was getting better at finding him, and it didn¡¯t help that as she grew more frustrated at her inability to kill him, her transformation to a more monstrous form continued.


    The young woman, who had been pretty and petite with pale skin and bright red lips, was now a twisted monstrosity that reminded Joseph of the blade-armed Fiends of the Seventh Floor. Her skin was grey, and black horns jutted out of her forehead. Her crimson eyes were filled with hate and fury, unlike anything he had seen before.


    Worse, her delicate hands were now freakishly long and sharp, each tipped with a black nail as long as a knife and sharp enough to cut through steel.


    Joseph rolled out of the way of Mercy¡¯s attack just in time. Invisible, he reached into his top hat in the hope that he had something stuffed in there that could help. The creature he had summoned, the Fire Elemental, had been killed long before.


    Grasping around in the magical hat, where he held his summons, he grasped something squirmed in his hand and threw it out without looking. He felt an intense pull on his mana, a sign that whatever it was he had was powerful enough to need a large portion of his mana.


    Joseph didn¡¯t even stop to look at whatever it was he summoned. He was already running away in an attempt to relocate to somewhere to hide for a moment and catch his breath.


    He was exhausted; his fight with the Lady of Lightmore had cost him a lot of his stamina, and he hadn¡¯t regained it before Mercy and the others arrived. Joseph was using whatever little reserves of mana he had left, but soon, they, too, would be gone.


    A few potions in his inventory could help, but he needs time for them to work! He just prayed that whatever he summoned would be able to slow Mercy down for a few minutes.


    Hiding behind a pile of rubble, Joseph let the invisibility Blessing fade and pulled out a bright blue bottle from his inventory. Downing the Mana Potion, he pulled out a green one as well that would recover some of his stamina and stifle his exhaustion and drank it.


    Joseph had barely finished the potions when he heard a roar behind him, and there was another pull at his mana reserves. Risking a peek around the corner, he was delighted by what he saw.


    It was a Black Ooze, a somewhat common enough monster on the Eighth floor. He had trapped a few of them in his hat when he was exploring a cavern in search of treasure. They were slow-moving and easily evaded, or trapped, for that matter.


    But, what they lacked in mobility and offence, they more than made up for it in defence. The Black Ooze couldn¡¯t be harmed, at least not by anything that Joseph had found. It was possible that magic would work, but he hadn¡¯t tested it much.


    That didn¡¯t matter to him because Mercy was an all-out physical horror that would stop at nothing to rip and tear her way through anything that tried to stop her or get in her way. In her rage, Joseph had noticed that she wouldn¡¯t do anything to protect herself, mostly because she didn¡¯t need to.


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    Nothing Joseph had done had even scratched her Fiendish skin, enhanced as it was by her transformation. But her claws couldn¡¯t harm the Black Ooze, no matter how much she tried. And she was certainly giving it her all.


    Joseph was delighted to see the Ooze wrapped around her legs, its torso fully embedded into her body, with tendrils reaching up to her arms and hands. The Black Ooze was acidic, although Joseph doubted that it would do a thing to Mercy.


    ¡°Oh, thank Christ.¡± Joseph whispered in relief, sagging against the pile of debris as he heard Mercy scream in rage. Chuckling, Joseph was about to reach into his inventory for another Potion when the ground started to shake.


    Alarmed, he turned to look at Mercy and was horrified by what he saw.


    The screaming Fiend-Tainted Mercy was howling in fury as her skin darkened further. Her black hair turned white, and her eyes shone crimson light.


    The dark horns protruding from her forehead, which had only been a few inches long, grew rapidly until they twisted and formed a crown around her head. A malevolent aura, one that Joseph was familiar with from the Seventh Floor, formed around her like fire.


    Joseph knew the moment the Ooze died. The connection between them was instantly severed, and the Black Ooze evaporated from the sheer power of Mana that Mercy was exuding. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ that had been a constant ache in the back of Joseph¡¯s neck since Mercy and the others arrived exploded into agony.


    ¡°Oh no.¡± Joseph whispered, looking around at the other groups for help. There was no way he could face this Fiend alone. Mercy¡¯s transformation was propelling her to a level that Joseph doubted their entire group could face and survive.


    But everyone was busy with their own problems. Joseph could see that Alivia was in a terrible situation, held in the tight grip of Lucas. Marvin and Aleks were fighting Corinna and Carlie, the sisters working so well together that both of the men showed severe injuries.


    As for Kristin, the Prophet wasn¡¯t anywhere to be seen. Which didn¡¯t surprise Joseph at all. If he could have seen the future and predicted this mess, he would have high-tailed it out of here as well.


    ¡°Ahh, screw it.¡± Joseph muttered. Popping the corks off a half dozen potions, he downed them all before standing and leaving his hiding place. Mercy¡¯s crimson eyes locked onto him immediately, crouching low, ready to spring forward.


    Placing the hat on his head, Joseph gave a sweeping bow.


    ¡°Always end the show with a bang.¡± He whispered, smiling broadly.


    He only had time for one more spell, so he had better make it a good one. Twirling his cane, he watched as Mercy¡¯s feet left the ground. She covered the space between them quickly, propelled forward by superhuman strength that Joseph couldn¡¯t hope to compete with.


    Taking in a deep breath, he let it out as he whispered the name of his Blessing.


    ¡°Lost in a Dream.¡±


    This was the last Blessing he had purchased, one that he had upgraded the most but had never had a chance to practice. It confused an opponent, tricking their mind into thinking they were somewhere else. Like they were ''lost in a dream.¡¯


    Joseph doubted it would work; Mercy was too powerful and too filled with rage to be tricked by and illusion. In fact, she hadn¡¯t fallen for any of his illusions or tricks so far. It was a pity; Lost in a Dream was a good Blessing. It was just that he was mismatched against the Fiend-Tainted Mercy.


    He watched as her eyes lost a hint of their focus; they dulled for a moment, and the crimson light of her rage and Fiend-corrupted mana faded just a tad. But, just as Joseph predicted, Mercy shook it off in a moment. She didn¡¯t even stumble or lose any of her momentum.


    He let out a sigh as her clawed hand pierced his stomach. Not slowing from the resistance of his magical item or Aether-enhanced flesh, her bloody hand emerged out of his back.


    ¡°There¡¯ll be no encores.¡± Joseph muttered, spitting out a mouthful of blood as the pain hit him suddenly.


    Rather than withdrawing her arm or following up on her attack, Mercy froze abruptly as a foreign entity touched her on the back without warning. Turning her crimson eyes at the source, she found herself looking into the sightless orbs of the Prophet, Kristen.


    ¡°Blessing of the Divine, Banishment.¡± Kristen whispered, and her power flared around her like a white hallow. The Fiendish Mercy, so filled with wrath that nothing could penetrate the haze of red, blinked in surprise as she felt the flood of power surround her.


    With a loud pop, Mercy disappeared, and Joseph could have laughed at the surprised look on Mercy¡¯s face if he hadn¡¯t been on the verge of death.


    Catching him, Kristen lowered him gently to the ground. Pulling out multiple bright red bottles from her inventory, she poured them onto his wounds.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. I thought you ran away.¡± Joseph asked quietly as a numbness spread out. The potions were working, although slowly. First, the flow of blood slowed as the pain left him.


    ¡°I can commune with the gods, and they give me¡­advice about the future. It''s rather easy for me to be in the right place at the right time.¡± Kristen explained.


    ¡°You got rid of her.¡± Joseph stated gratefully, and Kristen shrugged.


    ¡°Only for a few minutes, enough time for the others to help us. I can¡¯t fight; this is all I can do to help.¡± Kristen said regretfully.

 Chapter 106 – Floor 9: Part 27

    <u>Chapter 106</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 27


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t want to hurt me, would you? Think of all the other things we could be doing right now.¡± Carlie said playfully, pouting her full lips and giving Aleks a lustful look.


    The ¡®Beguiler¡¯ was heartbreakingly beautiful, and the Outlaw would have had to have been made of stone to resist her. Helen of Troy was said to have had a face that launched a thousand ships, but Carlie could ruin nations.


    Aleks had been through enough conflict inside the Tower of Avarice and years before he entered to have hardened himself against manipulation. You couldn¡¯t fight your way to where he had come from and not have learned to control yourself.


    But, no matter how much he tried to resist her, a part of him longed to drop his revolver and let her go. He had already fallen for her tricks multiple times, letting his guard down only for her to stab or slash him with a knife. And, as always, she did it with a smile on her face in such a way that you could almost think she was merely playing.


    ¡°No, darlin¡¯. I don¡¯t want to have to hurt you, but you aren¡¯t leavin¡¯ me any choice in it. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Aleks apologized, even though he knew that she didn¡¯t truly care about him. This was all a plot by her to attack him, to play on his emotions.


    It was infuriating that it was working. He couldn¡¯t stand the thought of hurting her, and it took all of his willpower to pull the trigger. His magical revolver let out a loud crack, but between his shaking hand and the delay in mustering the nerve to fire on her, Carlie had no problem avoiding the projectile.


    Cursing, Aleks tried again to hit her.


    Dodging gracefully and laughing the entire time, she spun and weaved her way across the battlefield while tossing her knife from one hand to another.


    By the time Aleks ran out of bullets and had to reload, she had scored another hit, a long gash across his thigh that would have been worse if Aleks hadn¡¯t managed side step. Safely away from her, Aleks began to reload while Carlie grinned and laughed at him.


    ¡°Hmmm.¡± Carlie moaned as she raised the blood-covered knife to her mouth and licked the liquid from the blade. Her moan sent a thrill of pleasure down Aleks''s back, and he dropped one of the bullets into the mud.


    ¡°You know, you aren¡¯t going to live much longer at this rate. You should just put down the gun and play with me. We could be so happy together¡­¡± Carlie offered, her voice trailing off as she lowered her knife and leaned forward so that Aleks could have a better look at her.


    When the Outlaw finally snuck a peek, his willpower overcome by her seduction, she smiled at him.


    ¡°Carlie, that¡¯s enough playing around.¡± Corinna chastised, her voice carrying the short distance between them where the Highborn was nearly finished with her own opponent. Carlie let out an irritated huff in response.


    ¡°Fine! You never let me have any fun.¡± Carlie sulked, her frowning face nearly breaking Alek''s heart. He longed to make her smile again, and, for a moment, his gun lowered, and he was defenceless.


    ¡°Got you.¡± Carlie whispered, and Aleks became lost in her eyes.


    ¡°Compulsion of the Beguiler.¡± Carlie whispered, and to Aleks, it sounded like she was right beside him. He could feel her breath on his ear, smell her body next to him, feel her warmth around him. He was nothing, while Carlie was everything.


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    She was his world, and he would do anything for her.


    Carlie watched with satisfaction as Aleks gained the slack-jawed and devoted look of someone who was obsessed with her. The Outlaw would obey her every command, within reason. She had found that there were certain limits to her Blessing.


    While she could order him to fetch her thing, even kill for her, she had never been able to get a Player of the Tower to kill themselves to please her. The locals were more than happy to jump off cliffs or set themselves on fire to make her happy, something she took great pleasure in watching.


    She had lost track of how many she had ordered to their deaths, each with a smile on their lips as they did so.


    But Players had more willpower than the locals, something that frustrated her at times. She needed them weak, tired and injured for her Blessing to work. That¡¯s why she had to toy with Aleks for so long.


    ¡°Oh well. You¡¯ll do for now. You want to make me happy, don¡¯t you? Nothing would make me happier in the world than if you killed your friends. You¡¯ll do that for me, won¡¯t you?¡± Carlie whispered, and Aleks shook with pleasure at the sound.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Thunder Dance.¡± Marvin muttered. The Power of the Blessing started in his chest, swirling like a turbulent storm before moving down to his legs. With his sabre held upright, he waited for the perfect time to strike.


    The problem with his fight with Corinna was that the Highborn didn¡¯t use a weapon; she didn¡¯t even move from where she was standing. As a Fencer, Marvin relied on his sword to strike his opponents in their vitals accurately. But Corinna wouldn¡¯t approach him, nor would she attack in any way.


    A Highborn doesn¡¯t fight their own battles; they use their pawns.


    Marvin didn¡¯t know what she had done to the locals he was facing or what experiments or magic she had used to turn them into monsters, but it was effective.


    Their battle started with Corinna sitting on a throne and directing a large, knight-like figure to engage him. Covered in crude, heavy iron armour, Marvin couldn¡¯t see much of the person beneath the many gaps in their coverings, but he knew that it was human.


    It obeyed her command to kill him with robot-like enthusiasm, never flinching from the many blows Marvin landed on its flesh or halting its mad pursuit of his life. But they were mismatched. While Marvin could hit it a dozen times without being struck in return, his sabre barely did any damage.


    He knew he had hurt it; at least his blade was covered in the Knight¡¯s blood, but it didn¡¯t slow or show any sign of stopping no matter how many times he hacked away from it.


    Worse, Corinna watched every minute of the fight with that cold, detached look on her face that said everything Marvin did was useless. Frustrated, he had even tried to circumvent the Knight to attack the Highborn herself, but he had been cut off every time.


    Despite it being slow and heavy in its armour, it managed to anticipate his attempts to strike Corinna.


    The Knight raised its large, two-handed sword in preparation to sweep it toward him when Marvin shot forward. The Blessing ¡®Thunder Dance¡¯ was aptly named; he felt like he was dancing in a storm, each step shooting him forward at blinding speed.


    He was behind the Knight in a moment, and his blade was stabbing toward the unprotected gap in its armour at the knee. The sabre bit deeply, and, not slowing for even a second, Marvin slashed at the other as he spun about and sprinted toward Corinna.


    He heard the Knight collapse on the ground, its knees sinking deeply into the muddy soil, but he was moving too quickly to care. In moments, he was leaping upwards toward where Corinna sat on her throne, his sword pointed at her unprotected chest.


    ¡°This is the end for you!¡± Marvin shouted. He had no doubt that what he was doing was righteous. The Highborn Corinna was a terror to the locals, and everyone agreed the Lower Ranks needed to be dealt with.


    Marvin had no qualms about killing her.


    His sword was only a few feet from striking her when a deafening ¡®crack¡¯ sounded out. Something struck Marvin with enough force that it sent him careening into the ground, knocking the breath out of him and breaking bones.


    Another Knight stood beside Corinna, nearly identical to the other that was just starting to find its footing again. This one had a wooden club instead of a sword, and, from the amount of blood on its surface, it had been what had struck him.


    Marvin¡¯s head fell back against the muddy ground, and all his strength left his body. He was finished; there was nothing left inside him to fight back.


    ¡°You¡¯re as bad as the peasants that call this Floor their home. Look at you.¡± Corinna stated, gesturing vaguely with her hand at Marvin.


    ¡°Useless. Carlie, that¡¯s enough playing around!¡± Corinna called out to her sister, shaking her head in dismay.


    ¡°This was an adequate diversion in an otherwise mundane day. You have my thanks for that, at least.¡± Corinna said to Marvin as she ordered her knights.


    ¡°Kill him.¡±

 Chapter 107 – Floor 9: Part 28

    <u>Chapter 107</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 28


    ¡°Ephemeral as the Wind.¡± Aster said, naming her Blessing in order to activate its abilities. She barely made it in time as Lucas¡¯s axe cut through her now translucent body and dug deeply into the muddy ground.


    Aster felt the pull of her mana from the use of the Blessing, and her reserves took a hit. She immediately deactivated it to keep from using it all, leaving her exhausted. Even its brief use left her panting, but it was better than blocking the axe with her lance.


    Lucas cursed in frustration as he freed his muddy axe and flicked off the large lumps of earth from the weapon¡¯s head. Shaking it roughly, Lucas resumed the chase while swinging wildly as he did so.


    He didn¡¯t use any Blessing or special Techniques. He didn¡¯t need to. Lucas¡¯s strength was far beyond any of the other players due to his pilfering of mana and Aether over the years. What he didn¡¯t absorb to use to enhance his body went into levelling up.


    Even his axe was something he had stolen from the dead.


    ¡°Stop running!¡± Lucas shouted. Rather than hitting the ground, his axe cut into a large rock that Aster was using to keep her distance. Biting into the stone, it held for a moment before shattering. She used that opportunity to strike, her silver lance shining like moonlight as it sped toward Lucas¡¯s unprotected face.


    ¡°Bah! Enough of this bullshit!¡± Lucas said, letting go of his axe and grabbing the lance with both hands. With violence fueled by anger and frustration, he tried to rip it away from Aster, but the stubborn woman refused to let go.


    So great was his strength that Aster¡¯s feet left the ground, and she was hurled away along with the lance when Lucas spun around. Hitting the ground and rolling, Aster found the axe launching toward her with all of Luca¡¯s considerable weight behind it.


    ¡°Onerous Stike!¡± Aster shouted, drawing back her arm and snapping it forward with all of the force she could muster. Her Blessing surrounded the weapon, coating it with an aura of fiery orange, and the sound of its passing made a shrill screech.


    ¡°You think you can hold your own against me!?¡± Lucas bellowed. The axe slammed against the side of the lance with a tremendous sound, like the banging of a bell or gong. A shockwave erupted from the conflict, flinging mud and torn earth in all directions.


    Lucas laughed as he saw the Lance hold for only an instant before being forced back. The weapon soared from Aster¡¯s hands, and she looked at it with stunned disbelief as the axe continued toward her unprotected body.


    Aster resigned herself to being injured, possibly even killed, by the blow. There wasn¡¯t time for her to activate ¡®Ephemeral as the Wind¡¯ or dodge in some other way.


    ¡°Blazing Sunbeam.¡± A golden light shot out from the side of Lucas and knocked into the side of the descending axe, altering its angle slightly. The blow that would have cut Aster in half merely grazed across her stomach, slicing through her silver, magical armour and striking her skin.


    Aster leapt backwards away from Lucas and slapped a hand over the wound to stem the blood flow while pulling out a potion from the inventory. Thankfully, Lucas was distracted by the sudden assault of magic and ignored her while she healed.


    She followed the glare left by the spell to its source. Alivia was standing, clearly hurt and struggling to remain upright. But she had her cards in her hands and was already pulling another from the deck.


    ¡°I should have broken your hands when I had the chance. I won¡¯t make that mistake again. Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll keep you alive enough to enjoy our time together. I like it when they scream.¡± Lucas threatened. Raising his axe, he threw it at Alivia.


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    The magical weapon spun slowly as it streaked toward the Drafter.  As it neared her, she pulled another card from the pile, and Aster clearly saw the crestfallen look on her friend''s face as she saw what she had retrieved.


    ¡°Summon Goblin.¡± Alivia muttered, already knowing that the spell wouldn¡¯t be much help against the foe they were facing. Indeed, no sooner had the card disappeared and a small, gangly limbed green-skinned Goblin appeared than the axe buried itself into the poor creature¡¯s skull.


    The summoned monster¡¯s head exploded into red mist, and the axe, slowing slightly from the impact, struck Alivia in the shoulder as she tried to dodge. Luckily for the Drafter, some of the force of the blow had been absorbed by the Goblin.


    Rather than cutting her in half, the axe gouged out a large chunk of her shoulder and chest. Alivia fell heavily onto the ground, gave a few twitches, and stilled.


    ¡°Alivia!¡± Aster screamed as she ran toward her friend. As she did so, the Lancer held her hand out to the side and summoned her magical lance back to her side. Leaping into the air, she flung it at the unarmed Lucas.


    ¡°Onerous Strike!¡± Aster yelled, pumping mana into her weapon to enhance its abilities. Once again, the silver lance streaked toward the Brigand like a beam of light. Lucas batted the weapon away, his large hand smacked into the side of the lance and sent it toward the ground next to him.


    ¡°Ahh, shit. Maybe I was too rough with her. I guess only one will have to do.¡± Lucas groused as he looked at the fallen Alivia. Turning away from the fallen Drafter, he snagged Aster out of the air and slammed her onto the ground.


    When she tried to struggle free, Lucas raised his fist, smashed it down onto her stomach and knocked the wind out of her. Gasping, Aster couldn¡¯t do a thing against him.


    ¡°Now, you and I are going to have some fun. And, if you play nicely, I might even let you live.¡± Lucas leaned toward her; his sour breath on her face made her gag, and she tried weakly to push him away.


    Laughing as she struggled, Lucas kept her pinned with one hand while he used the other to loosen up the buckles on her armour. So intent was the Brigand on what he was doing that he didn¡¯t hear or notice the figure approaching from behind him until it was too late.


    Alivia gripped the silver lance in her right hand, her willpower the only thing keeping her from dropping it as the pain of the wound on her shoulder made her want to crumble. Even the multiple potions she drank couldn¡¯t keep the pain away, although it had stemmed the bleeding.


    Dragging the lance, she watched as Lucas struck Aster with his fist and fumbled with her armour. Filled with a desire for vengeance and driven by the need to protect her friend, Alvia hefted the lance just as Lucas straightened.


    The Brigand had a large, lust-filled smile on his face as Alivia stabbed the lance forward with all of her strength.


    Alivia¡¯s body stat was nowhere near the equal of Lucas or even Aster. The lance, which had been so steady and sharp when wielded by Aster, wavered and shook when Alivia tried to drive it into the back of Lucas.


    Her aim was off, and rather than piercing the unprotected base of his neck, it sliced a line across the side of his collar. Lucas jumped up in fright and slapped his hand on the now profusely bleeding wound. Cursing, he reached toward the lance and grabbed it.


    Below him, Aster used his moment of distraction to kick him away while pulling a knife from her inventory. Scrambling across the ground, she stabbed it down into his thigh with all of her strength. The blade, sharp but mundane, bit deeply into his flesh before snapping off at the hilt.


    ¡°You gods damned whores!¡± Lucas bellowed as he took a swipe at Aster with the lance held awkwardly in his one hand. He didn¡¯t have time to use a potion as the Lancer avoided the attack. Shouting angrily, he regained his feet.


    Lurching away, Aster was repositioning herself to attack again when she heard Alivia.


    ¡°Are you hungry, you bastard!? Here, have all of them!¡± Alivia shouted. Clinging onto Lucas¡¯s back before the Brigand could recover, Aster watched as Alviia took her entire deck of cards and stuffed them into his mouth, just as he was about to yell again.


    Stunned, Lucas couldn¡¯t react before Alivia activated all the cards. Jumping off his back, Aliva ran toward Aster and knocked her companion to the ground as a rush of mana and Aether filled the air.


    The wind picked up, howling intensely as Lucas screamed in terror. He couldn¡¯t absorb all of this energy, not at once! The smell of spice was overpowering, and the mana surged into his body. His stomach bulged, blowing up like a balloon before bursting.


    Aster and Alivia''s last view of the Brigand was an explosion of light, flesh and blood as Lucas exploded.


    Leaning back onto the ground, Aster let out a breath of relief.


    ¡°How did you know that would work?¡± Aster asked. The Drafter shrugged, and winced as the action pulled at the still healing wound on her shoulder. The potions were doing their work, but it would be awhile before it closed.


    ¡°He ate one card and it was like he ate a full meal. I figured a hundred at once would be too much. That asshole just cost me another deck.¡± Alivia grumbled and Aster flashed her a rare smile.


    ¡°It was worth it.¡±

 Chapter 108 – Floor 9: Part 29

    <u>Chapter 108</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 29


    Marvin numbly watched the approaching pair of knights. Unable to even move an inch, there was nothing he could do. His body was injured and broken, and his mana was depleted. Even if he could move, there wasn¡¯t anything he could do against two knights that Corinna had in her service.


    He had joined the Tower to search for adventure, to see new worlds and to meet all the different people that inhabited them. But the reality of what he experienced in the Tower was different than what he had thought it would be.


    Each Floor was a horror show or filled with people that were selfish and cruel. Even his fellow Players weren¡¯t to be trusted. Some of them, like the Lower Ranks, were amongst the worst people he had ever met.


    The ground shook with each step the heavily armoured figures took, and Marvin closed his eyes as he accepted the inevitable. From now until the end, he would think about his home and all the beautiful things he had experienced in his life.


    Marvin¡¯s thoughts were interrupted by cold liquid striking him in the face. Opening his eyes while he gasped and sputtered at the sudden rough treatment, the cold liquid soon became burning hot, and a new energy coursed through his body as his wounds began to mend.


    ¡°Healing potion? But who..¡± Marvin looked around to find Mathew standing next to him with his large Mace of Righteous Subjugation resting on his shoulder. He held a few thin vials filled with red, blue and green elixirs in his other hand.


    ¡°You¡¯re looking rough. Here, take a minute and recover. I¡¯ll take care of Corinna.¡± Mathew said confidently, his body already beginning to distort slightly around the edges as his protective Blessing ¡®Blur¡¯ took hold.


    Marvin watched as the Thirteenth Demon Lord stepped forward and gave his mace a few swings to warm up his shoulder, like a baseball player about to step up to the plate.


    The Knights, not realizing who stood before them or maybe unable to do anything but follow direct orders from their mistress, ignored Mathew as they kept their focus on Marvin.


    ¡°I should have bought a Blessing or two.¡± Mathew muttered as he readied himself for the fight ahead. He didn¡¯t enjoy close combat, even on the Seventh Floor, where the Fiends would always close in rapidly with incredible speed. Mathew would try to keep his distance.


    ¡°Too late now.¡± Mathew whispered. He carefully judged the distance between them and the capabilities of the two mindless knights before he sprang into action. The Mace of Righteous Subjugation, with its boost of three to his body stat, gave him a significant increase in strength.


    The mace screamed loudly as it sped through the air with every shred of force Mathew could muster. Fueled by the magic of Righteous Subjugation, the mace head emitted crackling golden lightning that flickered and danced across its metallic surface.


    Mathew felt the magical weapon pull on his mana, and he gave it whatever it needed. It used more mana than any of his Blessings, but it was worth it.


    The Mace slammed into the first of the knights with a thunderous crash. To Marvin, standing nearly a dozen feet away, it sounded as if a bomb went off, an explosion of epic proportions. A discharge of golden energy erupted from the impact, burning the ground around Mathew as the Knight was launched into the air.


    Marvin followed it with his eyes as the Knight left the ground, its armour cracked and broken from the blow before the energy discharge vaporized it. The shockwave created by the force of the strike shook the earth, and the other Knight was pushed backwards as waves of energy scorched its armour.


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    Mathew looked at the other knight as it knelt on the ground. Throwing the mace into the air, he flicked his finger.


    ¡°Catapult.¡±


    The mace flew toward the kneeling figure, and the heavily armoured knight crumpled as the mace slammed into it. The large knight folded around the mace before it was buried out of sight by the muddy ground.


    ¡°Recall.¡± Mathew said, gesturing for the mace to return to his hand as he walked slowly toward the seated Corinna, who was only now looking concerned about the reversal of fortunes.


    ¡°So, you survived. I should have known that Osmund would fail. It¡¯s certainly on brand for him. I was about to-.¡± Corinna was cut off as Mathew pointed to her and spoke.


    ¡°Halt Movement.¡± Mathew ordered. The Blessing, designed only to hold people physically weaker than him or those lacking the willpower or mana to counteract its effects, froze the Highborn for a moment. Already, Mathew could feel the Blessing weakened, the powerful will of Corinna wearing away at it.


    The Blessing would only hold for a moment, but it was long enough for Mathew.


    ¡°Mystic Bolt.¡± Mathew threw a bolt of pure energy at the helpless Highborn, and he watched as it arced toward her seated figure. He didn¡¯t have any qualms about killing her, not after watching her order the death of his friends or learning what she had done to the locals here.


    The bolt nearly made it to her when a magical bullet shot it out of the air.


    ¡°Tut, tut, tut. Little Mathew shouldn¡¯t hurt poor, defenceless women. That¡¯s not very heroic, is it, Aleks?¡± Carlie asked as she stepped out from behind her sister''s throne. To Mathew¡¯s side, Aleks lowered his weapon, the charmed Outlaw having foiled Mathew¡¯s attempt to end the battle quickly.


    Corinna, frozen for only a moment, snapped out of the Blessing and laughed. It would have been a beautiful sound if it didn¡¯t have a sinister edge to it. She gripped the arms of her chair tightly as she leaned forward.


    ¡°You were so close, Mathew. But, the fun and games are over. Do you think you won just because you removed a few pawns from the board? I have more than enough of those knights. The locals were scrambling over each other to join my ranks!¡± Corinna hissed, and with a snap of her fingers, another half dozen of the armoured knights appeared.


    ¡°Kill him!¡± Corinna shouted. The knights began to move toward Mathew while Carlie smiled at the charmed Aleks.


    ¡°Do your part, dear. You wouldn¡¯t want to disappoint me, would you?¡± Aleks looked at the Beguiler with pure adoration before nodding and pointing his weapon at Mathew.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Marvin had recovered enough that he could sit up, but what awaited him when his eyes landed on the battlefield filled him with a sense of despair that he thought he had gone since Mathew rescued him.


    A half dozen knights formed a semi-circle in front of Mathew while Aleks, their friend and ally, was pointing his revolver at him. How did things take such a turn? Marvin let out a deep breath and lowered himself back to the ground.


    It was hopeless; they couldn¡¯t survive. Not against the strength of Carlie and Corinna combined.


    But Mathew didn¡¯t retreat. Instead, he did something that surprised Marvin. The Villain emptied his inventory onto the ground.


    Mathew quickly opened his status screen and began to dump everything inside his inventory onto the ground at his feet. During his time here on the 9<sup>th</sup> Floor, he accumulated several magical objects. Spears and swords, a few shields and even a handful of rings.


    Most had been pilfered from the Lords and Ladies of the Lineages, while several had been picked up from the various adventures he had had here to build his reputation. When he had about a dozen laid out on the ground, he closed the screen and assessed the situation.


    ¡°Right, Aleks first.¡± Mathew muttered. The slow-moving Knights were close, but the Outlaw was the real threat. Just as he spoke, the revolver let out a deafening crack, and Mathew felt the bullet strike his chest. The Coward¡¯s Brand, dormant until now, burned like fire, preventing the bullet from penetrating his skin.


    But, as powerful as the Brand was, he could feel its protections weaken. It wouldn¡¯t stop another in the spot until it recovered.


    ¡°Catapult.¡± Mathew whispered, flicking his hands repeatedly as he sent all the magical items at his feet flying.


    A storm of magic shot out from in front of him. Spears raced toward the Knights and Outlaw while swords spun and cut. The magical Dagger Mathew had bought from the shop on the Seventh Floor and spent so much time using in battle weaved and flew between them as if it were alive.


    The Outlaw tried to dodge, but the Dagger homed in on him, just as it had done to the Wretch, Ludvig. The dagger pierced Aleks''s shoulder, and the Outlaw screamed in pain. But, with the injury came a new clarity, and the Outlaw finally came to his senses.


    As Aleks spun from the force of the blow, he turned his revolver onto his tormentor and pulled the trigger.

 Chapter 109 – Floor 9: Part 30

    <u>Chapter 109</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 30


    Yule approached Mathew cautiously despite the danger being over. The Lower Ranks were either dead or had retreated, except Mercy, who was still banished. She had watched everything from the protective cover of a wooden palisade the retreating army had left behind.


    She had never seen anything like the fighting that had just occurred. It wasn¡¯t just the superhuman strength, speed and magical powers. It was the viciousness both sides displayed, the lack of hesitation to strike, to kill.


    Yule had heard Mathew speak of his time in the Tower, of how each Floor was a struggle. He had even touched on some of the events of the Seventh Floor, although he refused to elaborate more than simple descriptions of his time there.


    But, after watching this battle, she could imagine how it had shaped these men and women to be what they were now. Each of them, despite their calm demeanours and sometimes genteel manners, was a monster on the inside.


    They truly were Demon Lords.


    ¡°Yule, you shouldn¡¯t have come. It¡¯s not safe.¡± Mathew said, from where he leaned on his mace. He was waiting for Mercy to reappear so that they could put an end to this.


    Kristen had prophesied she would be returning in mere moments, and the group of Upper Ranks were trying to recover what energy they could before the final showdown.


    ¡°Mercy won¡¯t hurt us, and she promised the god of Accumulated Knowledge that we will be safe in your company.¡± Yule replied confidently as she stood next to him and assessed his wounds. They were mending, although Mathew¡¯s clothing was in near tatters, and his body showed clear scars that even the magical elixirs he drank couldn¡¯t remove.


    Mathew scoffed at the words and shook his head.


    ¡°When Mercy reappears, she likely won¡¯t even be human anymore. There¡¯s no telling what she¡¯s going to do. She¡¯s likely to rip your head from your body as anything else. You should leave; this isn¡¯t the place for a Local. It¡¯s our business.¡± Mathew stated, and Alivia spoke up from the side where she was sitting on the muddy ground, her back up against a wooden crate.


    ¡°Leave her be, Mathew. She just wants to see you put an end to this. We all do.¡± Alivia asserted. Next to her, Aster stood with her lance ready in order to protect her friend from whatever happened next. The two had grown closer after defeating Lucas, and without her deck, Alivia was nearly defenceless.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Mathew let it go and sagged harder against the mace, burying its head deeper into the muck. Yule could see the exhaustion on his face, the regret of having to fight and kill, but the determination to protect those close to him.


    She made sure to capture it perfectly in her notes for the chronicle. Yule knew that the future Lords and Ladies might twist and turn events here to their advantage, but the Cathedral¡¯s Chronicles would always have the truth.


    Yule was about to speak when Kristen interrupted them.


    ¡°She¡¯s coming.¡±


    Mercy ripped her way out of the prison space that Kristen had consigned her to, a grey plane lacking in anything but the Fiend-Tainted Mercy. It couldn¡¯t contain her for long, but it had been enough time for the other battles to end.


    Mathew watched as a pair of black talons emerged from a slight crack in the boundary between this Floor and wherever Kristen had banished Mercy. A grey mist leaked out, spilling onto the muddy ground and dissipating.


    The talons gripped the edge of the portal and pushed, forcing it wider until a head surfaced. Long, black horns curled around a dark grey face crisscrossed with pulsing lines of crimson veins visible beneath its flesh.


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    Mercy was more of a Fiend than even Samuel had been, and Mathew was forced to remember his final encounter with the man on the Seventh Floor. What had Mercy sacrificed for this power? Was Mischievous Depravity, the former Outer Deity, still fueling her transformation, or was this powered by something else?


    Mathew didn¡¯t know or care. He needed to put Mercy down, not just for the safety of everyone here but for the security of the entire 9<sup>th</sup> Floor. They were here to be villains, a way to encourage the people of the Ninth Floor to cast off the yoke the Lords and Ladies had placed on them and become their own heroes.


    But Mercy wasn¡¯t what this Floor needed. As it was now, Mathew could see her killing her way through the nations of this world, indiscriminately killing everything in sight.


    A clawed foot set down on the muddy ground, revealing her fully transformed figure to Mathew and the others. She was covered in a layer of armour, spiked and jagged, formed of a material similar to her horns and talons.


    A thick exoskeleton, it completely protected the flesh beneath, and Mathew was struck by how similar it appeared to Samuel¡¯s own armour when he became an Apostle of the Outer Deity. It moved and wrapped closely around her like her own skin, more a part of her body than armour ever would be.


    Mathew wearily straightened his body and hefted the large, heavy mace over his shoulder. The increase in his body stat that the mace provided was the only reason he was still on his feet. Even potions and elixirs couldn¡¯t completely drive away the accumulated weariness that had built upon him from the fighting.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you can understand me, Mercy, but we can stop this right now. Surrender, and no one else has to get hurt.¡± Mathew offered the Fiend-Tainted, but Mercy was beyond comprehension. She was being driven by instinct and emotions.


    As soon as Mercy was fully free of her imprisonment, she shot forward in a unparalleled display of strength. Mud and dirt shot out from behind her as her feet dug deeply into the ground to propel her forward.


    Mathew barely had time to protect himself with the mace as a clawed hand slashed at his face. Not slowing in the slightest, Mercy gripped the haft of the mace with one hand to keep him in place while she cut toward him with the other.


    He was forced to let go of the mace and leap backward to avoid the blow. Rolling across the ground, Mathew shot back to his feet and threw his hand forward while shouting.


    ¡°Mystic Bolt!¡± Energy flew from his hand, a bluish-white streak of mana that sizzled in the air as it moved. With his other, he recalled the mace to his other hand. The bolt of energy struck Mercy in the chest and impacted harmlessly, splintering into multiple shards that burned the ground when they landed.


    Mercy screamed in rage at the assault, and a haze of reddish-black energy swirled around her. The horns on her head, already nearly a foot long, grew slightly as her rage fueled her transformation further. Mathew threw out another bolt before activating his ¡®Blur¡¯ blessing to better protect himself.


    Like a heat haze, the air around him shimmered, and his figure distorted to those watching.


    But to Mercy, whose instincts were honed by bloodlust and enhanced in her new form, she could easily pierce the disguise and launched herself at Mathew again, this time even faster than before.


    ¡°Shit.¡± Mathew cursed as the monster leapt toward him. He managed to grab one of her clawed hands when it cut toward him, but the other managed to pierce his side. He felt the magic of the Coward¡¯s Brand activate, but it barely slowed.


    ¡°Now!¡± Mathew shouted, locking Mercy in place with all of his strength. So great was her fury that the Fiend-Tainted could see nothing but the enemy in front of her, allowing Aster to attack from behind. The lance in her hands shone with silver light as she put all of her remaining mana into the blow.


    ¡°Onerous Strike!¡±


    The lance pierced Mercy¡¯s side, cutting through the black armour and penetrating the flesh beneath. Mercy roared in anger and tried to swipe her claws at her but was held in place by Mathew.


    ¡°Thunder Dance: First Form ¨C Piercing Fulmination!¡± Marvin shouted, his sabre flashed like a lightning strike toward Mercy¡¯s back.


    ¡°Hunter¡¯s Mark.¡± Aleks added, unloading his revolver into the Fiend. His hand was a blur as he rapidly pressed down on the hammer of his revolver, and the shots rang out in one, continuous bang. His hunter¡¯s mark ensured that every bullet struck true.


    The damage quickly accumulated on Mercy¡¯s body, overwhelming her and momentarily weakening her for the next part of the plan.


    ¡°Do it Joseph!¡± Mathew ordered, and the Illusionist appeared out of his invisibility blessing next to Mathew. Looking into Mercy¡¯s crimson eyes, he focused his mana and spoke.


    ¡°Lost in a Dream.¡±


    The Blessing, which had been ineffective against her before, took hold immediately. Weakened as she was by their combined assault, she couldn¡¯t resist Joseph as he forced her mind to enter a world of his creation.


    Mercy¡¯s eyes, filled with anger and hate, lost focus and slowly closed.

 Chapter 110 – Floor 9: Part 31

    <u>Chapter 110</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 31


    Mayor Goodwin stood on the edge of the city of Reesh and watched as Demon Lord Mathew approached. Sitting astride his horse, Midnight, Mathew cut an imposing figure. Following behind him on a smaller, brown mare was his Chronicler, Yule.


    Tales of Mathew¡¯s accomplishments had reached all the way to Reesh, and Mayor Goodwin could hardly believe that he had defeated Demon Lord Mercy and her allies, along with the Lords and Ladies of the Lightmore Lineage.


    As of now, Mathew was the highest-ranked Demon Lord, a title that would undoubtedly bring a fair share of scrutiny and problems to Reesh. The once humble town that had been no more than a backwater was a bustling city filled with nearly a hundred thousand people.


    They came from all over the world, seeking the protection and peace provided by the Demon Lord Mathew.


    Of course, they would need to accept the restrictions and tyranny of Mathew, but most were willing to accept any level of constraint if it meant safety from the Demon Lords like Mercy or even the Lords and Ladies of the Lineages who took advantage of them.


    Goodwin was satisfied with what they had built here and the maintained security and laws of Mathew¡¯s personal Guard.


    As the Demon Lord approached her, she gave a deep bow of respect and obedience to her lord. All of her staff and retainers behind her copied her immediately.


    ¡°Lord Mathew, welcome home.¡± She said, and the crowd with her chorused her words.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to be back. Things look to have been peaceful while I was away.¡± Mathew said, climbing off of his horse and sending the magical Midnight back into his inventory as a small statue. Providing Yule with a hand off her horse, he let one of the Mayor¡¯s staff members lead the mare away.


    ¡°Things have indeed been well. Lord Algrond and others of his Lineage have kept their distance while you were gone.¡± Goodwin explained, and Mathew shrugged at the words.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. If he wants to come looking for trouble, I¡¯m more than happy to oblige him. Come, tell me what I missed.¡± Mathew said while leading the way to his mansion. Once on the outskirts of town, the city had built up around it, leaving his home in nearly the center of Reesh.


    Overlooking the city, what had been intended as a formidable palace meant to set him apart from the locals had become a symbol of prosperity, with its graceful spires and large gardens.


    Mayor Goodwin started by telling him the details of Reesh¡¯s development before reviewing some rumours and information regarding their neighbouring towns. When they had finally crossed the threshold to Mathew¡¯s mansion, leaving the crowd behind, Goodwin had finished.


    ¡°We¡¯ll need to prepare for the arrival of the Lords and Ladies. Now that Mercy and the others have been dealt with, we¡¯ll have a target on our back. We¡¯ll have help. I¡¯ve already spoken to Alivia and Aster, and they have agreed to move here for support.¡± Mathew explained as he gratefully sat on his throne at the center of the large hall.


    No sooner did he settle when a loud ¡®Ding!¡¯ rang out. Lifting his silver wristband, Mathew checked the message.


    Congratulations, you have accumulated 5000/5000 Reputation!


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    Your name has spread far and wide. You have become a focal point for the hostility of the entire Floor, a Villain of unsurpassed magnitude. As a fire clears the dead brush and fallen trees of a forest, so to have you burned away the stagnation and oppression that rots the Ninth Floor.


    Heroes have begun to rise. Small, fledging sprouts that will grow into mighty oaks to defend the land and its people.


    Reward: The Blessing: Villainous Smite ¨C Wave of Destruction


    <u>Villainous Smite ¨C Wave of Destruction</u>


    Strike the ground with all of your strength and mana, depleting your reserves and generating a destructive force that radiates outwards in all directions. The attack''s size and scale are directly determined by the amount of mana you hold within you.


    Mathew had just finished reading the message when another Ding! Rang out.


    New Objective: A Source of Animosity


    You are a Demon Lord, the source of animosity for an entire world. Defend your territory against the forces of the Lineages.


    Secondary Objective: Defeat the Lords and Ladies of the Lineages.


    ¡°Great.¡± Mathew muttered, already wondering how he would accomplish that. He thought that he would be free to leave this Floor once he had built a reputation. But it looked like these prophesied ¡®Heroes¡¯ needed time to get their act together.


    ¡°Goodwin, prepare rooms for the other Demon Lords. They should be arriving soon. Have the Guard double the watch on the walls and prepare for the arrival of an army from the Lineages.¡± Mathew ordered, surprising the Mayor.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Who is that old woman?¡± Mathew asked from atop the wall surrounding Reesh. Made of a wood and stone, the wall wouldn¡¯t do much to stop the army arrayed against them. But it didn¡¯t matter much. The true battle would be between the Demon Lords and the Lineages, with everyone else relegated to little more than spectators.


    Next to him, Alivia was flicking through her new deck. This one was weaker than her last. The Aether she had earned hadn¡¯t been able to replace the valuable cards she had lost against Lucas. But, with the help of the others chipping in a pile of Crystallized Aether, it wasn¡¯t a significant difference.


    It helped that she had chosen support cards rather than direct offensive spells and abilities, reducing the cost. Since support cards required allies, they cost less Aether. Sure, she would need to buy more before she went onto the next floor, but hopefully, the bonus from accomplishing her objective would pay for it.


    ¡°That old bag is the ¡®Matriarch.¡¯ She¡¯s their leader.¡± Alivia said, and Aster nodded.


    ¡°She¡¯s the reason the Demon Lords a few centuries ago lost in the first place.¡± Aster added, and Marvin snorted.


    ¡°Looking good for an antique. She doesn¡¯t look a day over eighty.¡±


    ¡°She uses the blood of the locals to stay alive. We need to kill her, Mathew. She¡¯s worse than Osmund.¡± Aster said, turning to look at him.


    ¡°We will. Are any of these Lords and Ladies actually decent people?¡± Mathew wondered out loud, and Joseph was the one to respond this time.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like it. I don¡¯t agree with killing them. We send them packing and let the local Heroes handle it. It''s their business what happens here, not ours.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡± Aleks said.


    Their conversation was interrupted by a loud horn that carried across the distance between them easily. A group of Lords and Ladies were approaching the wall under a white flag, the symbol of Parley. Looking at the others, Mathew leapt over the parapet and easily dropped a dozen feet to the ground below.


    Pulling out the statue of the horse from his inventory, Mathew climbed on top of Midnight and rode the short distance to the meeting, with the others following closely behind. As he did so, Mathew activated ¡®Fear¡¯ to give himself an aura of menace and terror, although he kept it from its full power.


    He just wanted enough to put the other side on edge.


    Reigning in Midnight a short distance away from the gathering, Mathew assessed the people arrayed before him. The Matriarch was a small, elderly woman wearing a thick, white robe. He could feel the mana within her, a mixture of divine Aether and something else. A sinister, dark corruption that he assumed came from whatever method she used to maintain her life.


    A step behind her were a dozen Lords and Ladies, some wearing armour or extravagant clothing. Each had an aura of power around them, and Mathew knew that these were the best from amongst their ranks.


    They were leagues ahead of Algrond and the members of his Lineage who had fought Mathew before.


    But, to the Demon Lords who had faced Mercy and the Lower Ranks, the Lords and Ladies lacked that bloodthirsty edge that came from surviving through hell. They had clawed their way through the Tower of Avarice, and nothing the Lineages had faced could compare.

 Chapter 111 – Floor 9: Part 32

    <u>Chapter 111</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 32


    ¡°You have the honour of standing before Demon Lord Mathew the Enduring! Conqueror of Reesh and Lord of the lands which you stand upon.¡± Mayor Goodwin announced Mathew, giving a deep bow in his direction from where she stood in front of the Lords and Ladies of the Lineage.


    Mathew had used just a tiny bit of his ¡®Fear¡¯ Blessing¡¯s power, giving his aura a tinge of terror and inspiring dread in those who looked upon him.


    To the army arrayed before him, Mathew looked like a figure out of their worst nightmares. Taller than a giant and as fearsome as a dragon, he rode a horse made of night itself. His eyes were burning pits of fire and his clothing made of shadows that writhed around him.


    Each person who gazed upon him swore afterwards that they could hear the wailing of the souls who died at his hand.


    To the Lords and Ladies who were better able to resist the Blessing¡¯s effects, Mathew was an imposing young man with an impression of power and an unshakable will. Even the Matriarch felt a trace of unease as she watched the Demon Lord reign his horse to a stop and observe them.


    Once the Mayor had finished her announcement, it was the Lineages'' turn to speak. A young man from amongst their number had the honour of introductions, but the Matriarch cut him off just as he opened his mouth to speak.


    ¡°We will dispense with the formalities. The time has come for you and the other Demon Lords to leave these lands.¡± The Matriarch stated, and Mathew snorted at the words.


    ¡°You do not believe me? I know many things, Mathew of Manhattan. You have been tasked with defeating the Lineages by the gods of the Tower of Avarice, have you not?¡± The Matriarch added. But rather than be shocked by the words, Mathew simply shrugged.


    ¡°So, you read the Chronicles left by the last group of Players? That will make this easier. Yeah, you¡¯re right. We can¡¯t leave until we clear your lot away and make room for a new crop of heroes, less corrupt and selfish than you. So, you were correct in stating that it¡¯s time we left these lands. Once you and the others are defeated here.¡± Mathew replied.


    ¡°You¡¯re all just as bad as Mercy and her Demon Lords. We¡¯ve heard about what you¡¯ve done here. Oppressing the locals, exploiting or even killing them. You call us Demons, but you are the true evil in this world!¡± Alivia added.


    The others nodded their heads at her declaration.


    ¡°Interesting perspective, I suppose. A very na?ve one as well. Wherever you may go, you will always find those with power and those without. We are the strong, protecting the weak from a harsh world. Without us, our world''s monsters would destroy everything we have built. So what if a few have to die in order to safeguard the rest? Isn¡¯t their oppression worth it to endure their survival?¡± The Matriarch countered.


    Alivia flushed red with anger and was about to retort when Mathew gently rested a hand on her shoulder to calm her. He shook his head slightly when she looked at him in response.


    ¡°Save your sophistry for someone else. I don¡¯t care how you rationalize your actions, and even if we did care to try and understand you, it doesn¡¯t change our objective. You and the Lineages will fall here today. Those who read the Chronicle of this floors history can be the ones to judge you.¡± Mathew asserted.


    The Matriarch, unfazed by his words, shook her head in response.


    ¡°Very well. Rather than trying to convince you, let me provide you an alternative to the slaughter about to take place.¡± She offered, but this time, it was Aster who responded.


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    ¡°No alternatives or bargains.¡± Aster expressed her disdain with a frosty look toward the old woman.


    ¡°You should not be so quick to reject my offer. Otherwise, this day will go very poorly. For both sides.¡± The Matriarch raised her hand and gestured sweepingly toward those gathered on both sides.


    ¡°Regardless of who wins this day, there will be countless deaths on both sides. I offer you a way to achieve your objective, safeguarding the people of this world while eliminating the Lineages forever.¡± The Matriarch said, and the Lords and Ladies behind her shot quick looks at the old woman. If they were surprised, they held it in.


    ¡°You¡¯d sell out your own? I can¡¯t say I¡¯m surprised.¡± Alivia said scornfully.


    ¡°No, this will help them as well.¡±


    ¡°Very well. Let¡¯s hear your offer.¡± Mathew said in resignation. He didn¡¯t look forward to more death and killing. He was more than happy to hear the old woman out if he could avoid it and still achieve his objective.


    ¡°Open the Tower to the Lineages, allow us to serve the gods and achieve our dreams and desires.¡± The Matriarch asked. This time, Mathew caught the expressions of the Lords and Ladies change. There was a layer of excitement and longing there.


    Mathew let out a sigh.


    ¡°Why is it that people always want to enter the Tower? You wouldn¡¯t be so keen to do so if you knew what waited for you there.¡± Mathew muttered quietly, so low that even Yule, who was beside him, barely heard his words.


    ¡°No way! Even if we could control who enters the Tower, why would we let you lot in? It¡¯s bad enough that Mercy and the others have been running loose through the floors.¡± Alivia shouted, shutting down the idea immediately.


    Mathew thought it over for a moment, running his hand through his hair as he did so.


    ¡°It¡¯s not impossible. But Alivia is right; we don¡¯t have any control over who enters the Tower. It would be up to the gods to decide, and they aren¡¯t exactly easy to contact. It would be easier if you had a patron deity, someone who overlooks this Floor, but you don-¡± Mathew was cut off by a loud ¡®Ding\ as a message arrived through his silver wristband.


    Slowly raising it up to his eyes, Mathew already knew what it was going to say.


    The god of Mischievous Depravity is pleased with your performance on this Floor. It was their pleasure to offer the Lords and Ladies of the Lineages passage into the Tower as their Patron Deity, provided they align themselves to its Demesne.


    Mathew read through the message twice before letting out a loud sigh and lowering his wrist to rest it on the saddle of Midnight.


    ¡°Very well. The god of Mischievous Depravity had agreed to allow all the Lords and Ladies of the Lineage to enter the Tower, provided you align with them. I don¡¯t know what that means, but you should be aware that there are consequences to doing so.¡± Mathew said, relaying the message to the Matriarch in its entirety.


    For the first time, the elderly woman looked pleased. A glow of power surrounded her, a white aura that extended like a halo around her. She didn¡¯t even hesitate before kneeling on the ground, uncaring of the grass and dirt that stained her robes.


    ¡°I accept the offer to enter the Tower, and I do so Pledge myself to the god of Mischievous Depravity.¡± She stated firmly. No sooner did she finish when a pillar of light appeared in front of her. The light twisted and formed a door, a portal that Mathew recognized through the opening as leading to the first floor of the Tower.


    Rather than the office building Mathew had seen on Earth, this Tower had the appearance of a large inn or tavern, with a long desk at one end. But, standing there just as she had been when Mathew had entered was the young woman in a grey suit jacket and skirt.


    The Matriarch entered the portal immediately, disappearing in a flash of light.


    ¡°How about the rest of you?¡± Mathew asked, and there was a flurry of activity as others pledged themselves and disappeared through portals.


    In mere minutes, the battle of Reesh was over. Standing with the other Demon Lords in a field outside of the city, Mathew ordered the army arrayed against them to disperse. Without the Lords and Ladies of the Lineage to oversee them, they submitted to the Authority of the Demon Lords.


    Within a week, news of the battle had reached every corner of the continent. Any Lord or Lady that hadn¡¯t been witness to the events there soon learned of the offer to enter the Tower.


    Within a month, there were only a handful of the Lineages left on the Ninth Floor. Algrond, still training hard to defeat Mathew, decided to stay to defend his land, but his family was allowed to leave through the portals.


    Free of the oppression of the Lineages and driven to remove the Demon Lords from their world, a new line of Heroes rose. Within a year, the first of these Heroes arrived at Reesh to challenge Demon Lord Mathew the Enduring.

 Chapter 112 – Floor 9: Part 33

    <u>Chapter 112</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 33


    Sarin gripped the hilt of his sword until his knuckles were white in an effort to still the shaking in his hands. His stomach was in knots as the thought of the coming encounter filled him with nervousness and trepidation.


    As he led his party forward, the people of Reesh watched him mutely from where they lined both sides of the road. He and his allies were here to liberate the land from the Demon Lord that oppressed them, but why did it feel like these people were indifferent to him?!


    His name had spread far and wide; their righteous journey to free their world from evil and corruption had won them much goodwill. Sarin had faced monsters and fiends, malignant creatures from the bowels of hell, since the Lineages had departed.


    But this was a Demon Lord, one of the strongest beings in existence and one that had plagued their world for years.


    Worse, this was the leader of them all. Demon Lord Mathew the Enduring. The Terror Lord of Reesh.


    Behind him, Sasha was pale in her white robes and her ivory staff seemed dimmer than he remembered. He had seen the mage hurl balls of fire and crush monsters beneath the weight of her conjured magics, but this foe was beyond any they had ever faced.


    The pair had been born in the same village. Once under the protection of the Lightmore Lineage, their departure meant goblins from the hills could invade them, and the local guards were unable to hold them back.


    But Sarin and Sasha had risen to the challenge, unlocking skills and abilities they didn¡¯t know they had possessed.


    Joining them were Tarin and Feldt, a ranger from the northern wilds and a thief from the backstreets of the Capital. They had formed a party over a year ago and, since that time, had grown as close as siblings as they faced every sort of danger their world could offer.


    ¡°Peace, Sasha. We¡¯re ready for this.¡± Sarin assured her, resting his metal gauntleted hand on her shoulder gently. The beautiful woman nodded in response, the unease fading slightly at his reassurance.


    ¡°The gods have blessed our quest. We will be victorious.¡± Feldt offered, her black clothing seemingly made out of shadows as she drifted along behind them noiselessly.


    ¡°This will be a glorious hunt.¡± Tarin affirmed. His bow already had a silver arrow knocked and ready.


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    They came to the center of Reesh, and still, they were unmolested. The city guards, all wearing the symbol of the Demon Lord Mathew, did nothing to stop them. They had issued their challenge at dawn at the city gates, commanding the Demon Lord to face them in combat.


    Filled with arrogance, the Demon Lord had agreed and ordered his people not to hinder their passage to his palace.


    Standing before the mansion that housed The Enduring, Sarin couldn¡¯t help but feel they had perhaps rushed things too much. Maybe they should have trained and adventured for a while longer to prepare.


    But it was too late now. The large, wooden doors, with their intricate engravings, opened silently to allow them entry. A woman emerged wearing an expensive black dress. She assessed them carefully before nodding her head.


    Mayor Goodwin.


    Sarin had heard the woman was one of the Demon Lord''s first followers and his most devout. Sarin didn''t know how she could serve a Demon. Perhaps she was under some sort of spell-like the people of Reesh obviously were.


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    ¡°Demon Lord Mathew invites you to enter and face him in the Grand Hall, Heroes.¡± Mayor Goodwin said, gesturing to the open door behind her before leading the way. Sarin took a look at his allies before nodding encouragingly and stepping forward.


    The inside was as extravagant and opulent as Sarin had expected from the exterior. Priceless works of art, statues and vases on plinths all spoke of the great wealth the Demon Lord had accumulated. Even here, inside a palace dedicated to a figure of evil, servants watched the heroes walk through the halls in silence.


    He had expected cheers or smiles, but none seemed happy to see them. The four brave men and women made a sombre quartet as they walked the halls. Leading them, Mayor Goodwin didn¡¯t offer another word before bringing them to another set of large doors.


    Opening them with a push of her hand, The Heroes arrived at the Grand Hall containing the Demon Lord.


    Sarin was struck by how cold and quiet it was inside. The hall was massive, far larger than he would have expected, even given the size of the structure on the outside. It was empty, save for a large throne on the far end where the Demon Lord sat.


    Mathew the Enduring was an imposing figure. Younger than Sarin would have thought, his face was expressionless and cast in shadow. An aura of darkness and malice surrounded him, and a feeling of terror pervaded everything in his presence.


    Dressed in a black suit of foreign design, the only colour on the Demon Lord was a crimson scarf draped around his neck. He was weaponless, and if Sarin were a fool, he would take him as defenceless.


    But Sarin knew better. The Demon Lord may have looked relaxed, but he knew that violence could be unleashed at any moment.


    Standing to the side of Mathew and slightly behind him was a young woman wearing the white robes of a Scholar of the Cathedral of Knowledge. Impartial and neutral in all things, Sarin had heard the Chroniclers accompany all the Demon Lords to record their every move and spoken word.


    ¡°Welcome, Heroes. I am the Demon Lord Mathew, known as ¡®The Enduring.¡¯ Have you finally found the courage to face me?¡± Mathew spoke, and with each word he uttered, the terror within the Heroes rose. The air of violence that surrounded the Demon Lord grew stronger until Sarin swore he could see Mathew grow larger.


    Sarin drew in a steadying breath and, with a single movement, drew and readied his sword. The magical blade that he had found in the depths of a dungeon glowed with white light.


    ¡°I am Sarin, leader of our party! We have come to liberate these lands from your evil!¡± Sarin shouted. Behind the Demon Lord, the young Chronicler was furiously writing everything they said in a small notebook.


    Mathew seemed to delay his response until she had finished her notes. Sarin saw that he was watching her out of the corner of his eye. Satisfied that she was done, the Demon Lord responded.


    ¡°Very well! Prepare yourselves!¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    A few minutes before the Heroes Arrival.


    Mathew sat on his throne and impatiently rapped his fingers against the wood. He had been waiting for the heroes to arrive for months, and soon, he would be able to leave this floor.


    He had received a notification through his silver wristband that morning, just after the Heroes had announced their challenge.


    Floor 9 ¨C The Final Objective!


    A Performance of a Lifetime!


    A story must have a satisfying ending. You have played the role of a Demon Lord perfectly, but it is time to taste defeat. Allow the Heroes to drive you away, freeing their world from the grip of evil.


    Objective: ¡®Lose¡¯ to the heroes.


    Bonus Objective: Bonus Aether will be awarded based on your acting ability. It¡¯s time to perform!


    Mathew let out a deep sigh. Not only did he have to lose to these Heroes, he had to convince them that they won. The Bonus meant he needed to pretend to be defeated in such a manner that no one would suspect that he let them win.


    When he had his first look at the ¡®Heroes,¡¯ he knew it would be a challenge.


    The Heroes were weak. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ didn¡¯t even flicker at the sight of them. There was no way they could hurt him, let alone defeat him, if he fought them seriously. Their levels were far below his, their equipment barely magical.


    Overall, this fight would be like bullying children.


    When they declared their challenge, Mathew barely listened to what they were saying. His thoughts turned to how he could fight them without killing them outright! His Blessings would be too powerful; even ¡®Fear¡¯ would drive them away.


    Sarin and his allies may have been a force to defeat goblins and the monsters of this world, but against the Players of the Tower, they wouldn¡¯t even survive the first floor!


    Worried about his performance, Mathew defaulted to his instincts as a ¡®Villain.¡¯ Standing, he gave the bare minimum of mana to his ¡®Fear,¡¯ and already the Heroes began to waver. Stretching and taking his place in front of them, Mathew shouted.


    ¡°Very well! Prepare yourselves!¡±


    He just hoped he didn¡¯t overdo it.

 Chapter 113 – Floor 9: Part 34

    <u>Chapter 113</u> ¨C Floor 9: Part 34


    Yule lowered her head in what she hoped the Heroes would mistake for fear as the battle began. In truth, it was embarrassment over Mathew¡¯s horrible acting.


    She knew that the ¡®Demon Lord¡¯ would need to lose in order to satisfy the objectives of the gods, but she hadn¡¯t thought Mathew would be so bad and pretending to lose.


    Standing in front of his throne, power radiated off of him. A confluence of mana and Aether surrounded his body, forming an aura of oppression that nearly forced Yule to her knees. She could imagine how hard it was for the Heroes to withstand the full brunt of its force.


    His ¡®Fear¡¯ Blessing turned him into a monster of gigantic proportions, one clothed in shadow and a thick smell of blood and death covered the hall.


    From his first attack, Yule knew the Heroes would have no chance of defeating Mathew if he actually tried. Each step he took shook the ground; each time he would lash out at them with his fist, the air would crack like thunder.


    The Heroes tried to retaliate, but their strongest magics would envelop Mathew harmlessly. Their blows from sword, knife and arrow wouldn¡¯t penetrate ¡®The Coward¡¯s Brand,¡¯ let alone his Aether enhanced flesh.


    He was an unstoppable juggernaut facing peasants who could have been wielding lengths of straw for all the good they did.


    After the initial assault, the Heroes fell back to the far end of the room to regroup. A frown had appeared on Mathew¡¯s face, and he turned to Yule for advice.


    ¡°How am I doing?¡± Mathew asked, and Yule shook her head in exasperation.


    ¡°Overdoing it! You¡¯re supposed to lose!¡± Yule hissed.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± Mathew muttered. He thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers as he had an idea.


    ¡°I got it!¡± Mathew whispered, satisfied that his idea would work. He leapt from the dias that held his throne and landed in the center of the hall and fell to one knee.


    ¡°Oh no! The dark ritual I used to enhance my demonic strength is failing! Curse these heroes for holding out long enough for my power to fade!¡± Mathew shouted loudly enough that his voice echoed off the walls of the hall.


    Yule put her hand over her eyes and let out a sigh. There was no way they were going to believe that, Mathew! A dark ritual? And its suddenly failing after a few minutes?! They would need to be idiots to fall for-.


    ¡°Yes! We have a chance! All together now!¡± Sarin yelled, pumping his fist in triumph as they surged toward the fallen Demon Lord.


    Yule watched in confusion as an onslaught of mana flew and Mathew, obscuring him from sight. She could feel the ground shake as explosion detonated around him. Then, as the smoke and dust cleared, Mathew was revealed once more.


    He had ripped his clothing to give the appearance of injury, and he roared loudly in pretend anger.


    ¡°AHHH, I have been defeated! Curse you, Heroes! As my last act in this world before death, I will destroy this mansion and everyone inside it. This place will be your tomb unless you somehow manage to flee in time!¡± Mathew yelled, and the Heroes panicked.


    ¡°We¡¯ve done it! Run before this place collapses!¡± Sarin yelled.


    Mathew reached up into the air toward the ceiling and made a pulling motion. The entire palace began to shake and rumble. Yule could feel a strange emanation of mana from Mathew¡¯s hand and a response from the building.


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    ¡®He¡¯s recalling the magic of the mansion.¡¯ Yule thought. The entire building was a magical item that Mathew had purchased from the store and used his mana to expand into its current size. Now, he was reversing the process.


    ¡°Flee Heroes or perish from my final act!¡± Mathew encouraged them.


    The Heroes hesitated, looking at Yule, who had returned to take notes. Seeing her ignore them, Sarin ran forward and picked her up to carry her away.


    Yule began to fight against him; the unexpected act of rescuing her was ruining her notes, and she tried to escape his grip. Unable to stop Sarin from pulling her to safety, she looked to Mathew for help.


    Mathew watched her being carried with a small smile and a shrug. He gave her a small wave of his hand that went unnoticed by anyone but her.


    ¡°Goodbye.¡± Mathew whispered. The shaking grew stronger, and he waited until everyone left to stand again and lower his hand. Walking out of the rear of the hall, Mathew found a back exit that led to one of the gardens.


    As soon as his boots sunk into the green grass,  he heard the long-awaited ¡®Ding¡¯ from his silver wristband. The burning words appeared shortly after.


    Success! You have completed the 9<sup>th</sup> Floor!


    With your defeat, the land has been prepared for the rise of new Heroes. The Chronicles will forever tell of the evil exploits of ¡®Demon Lord Mathew.¡¯


    Bonus: The gods have judged your acting to be ¡®Adequate.¡¯ Bonus Aether has been awarded.


    The familiar pillar of white light emerged behind him, revealing the interior of the elevator leading to the next floor.


    Mathew raised his hand and commanded the Mansion to return to him. It collapsed into itself, shrinking to form a small toy that could rest comfortably in his palm. Screened by a cloud of dust from the sudden collapse of his home, the Heroes had no idea that the ¡®Demon Lord¡¯ didn¡¯t perish in the compact mansion.


    Satisfied, Mathew entered the elevator and left the 9<sup>th</sup> Floor behind.


    On the far side of the crater where the Mansion once stood, Yule looked sadly at the remnants. The dust had cleared enough for her to spot the fading light of the portal Mathew had left through.


    Stifling her feelings, she thanked the Heroes for ¡®rescuing her¡¯ and departed for the Cathedral of Knowledge.


    Yule had a lot of work to do before her Chronicle was complete.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Waiting in the cool interior of the modern-looking elevator to slowly take him to his destination, Mathew perused his status screen.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Discipline: Villain (Level 10l)


    Champion (Level 15)


    Trickster (Level 5)


    Coward (Level 5)


    Charlatan (Level 5)


    Level: 40


    Aether Required for Next Level: N/A (Maximum Level of Discipline Achieved.)


    Current Aether: 875,540


    Attributes


    Body: 6.7


    Mind: 6.5


    Spirit: 2.8


    Blessings


    Create and Control Flames + (Max Tier)


    The Coward¡¯s Brand + (Max Tier)


    Catapult + (Max Tier)


    Truthsayer (Unique Ability)


    Mystic Bolt + (Max Tier)


    Pass Without Trace (Max Tier)


    Blur + (Max Tier)


    Halt Movement + (Max Tier)


    Villainous Smite ¨C Wave of Destruction


    Items of Importance


    Wyvern Scale Jacket (Increased resistance to Piercing/Slashing/Fire)


    Scarf of the Wanderer (Protection from hazardous atmospheres.)


    Knife of Soaring (Item can be ¡®Catapulted¡¯ from the hand as if it were not carried.)


    Mace of Subjugation (Bonus to Body, damage can be increased by using mana.)


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew had reached the maximum level of his Discipline, meaning he would need to choose a new one before entering the next floor. Typically, a choice would be presented to him during the elevator ride, but this time, nothing happened.


    ¡°I wonder what the gods have in store for me next.¡±


    It felt like they were playing with him at times. Doing things to irritate or hinder him, such as with their choice of Disciplines and Blessings, or forcing him to complete floors and objectives that were ill suited to his personality.


    Closing the status screen, Mathew flicked his finger to summon his Inventory.


    He had a large collection of magical items. He had accumulated quite a bit from the Lineages and his various adventures around the world. But, for some reason, the ¡®Sell¡¯ option of the Shop had been disabled since the Seventh Floor.


    Mathew wasn¡¯t sure what was going on with it, and it was a bit of a disappointment that hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of Aether were sitting in his inventory without a proper use for it. But he was sure there was a reason for it.


    The gods seemed to have a plan for everything, although he often disagreed with them. Especially Mischievous Depravity. The former Outer Deity had left him alone since the Lineages had pledged their devotion, and Mathew was thankful.


    He wanted nothing to do with that particular god.


    Just as he was settling in for a long wait, the elevator came to a stop and revealed the 10<sup>th</sup> Floor.

 Chapter 114 – Floor 10: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 114</u> ¨C Floor 10: Part 1


    <u>A few days after Mathew¡¯s ¡®defeat.¡¯</u>


    Algrond, the last remaining lord of the Aeolian Lineage, threw down the message in disgust.


    ¡°You expect me to believe that a few peasants managed to destroy the most powerful Demon Lord our world has ever seen?!¡± Algrond shouted. The few servants that had stayed to serve him cowered in fear at his outburst.


    His lineage had fallen from grace with the people since his multiple losses at the hands of the Demon Lords. Worse, since the departure of the other Lords and Ladies, the populace of his lands were becoming used to ruling themselves.


    They no longer saw Algrond as a saviour and protector of these lands. Rather, they remembered all the selfish acts he had done over the decades. Even though he had spent the last several years in training, allowing his people to assign their own governors, he couldn¡¯t erase the past.


    Algrond fell silent as the last of his servants ran from the room. He had dedicated himself to becoming stronger in order to defeat Mathew, yet a few farmers calling themselves ¡®Heroes¡¯ accomplished what his lineage could not.


    It was humiliating and an obvious lie. It wasn¡¯t possible for them to do it. There was a deception here, a ruse. The Demon Lord Mathew had fled their world; whatever task he had come to achieve was now done, and there was nothing here to bind him.


    Algrond knew of the pact the other lineages had sealed with a deity for entrance to the Tower, and that was where Mathew had fled. He was sure of it.


    His affairs here were concluded, and if Mathew was no longer present, then Algrond would chase him into the unknown of the Tower of Avarice.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The doors of the elevator opened to reveal the 10<sup>th</sup> Floor. Unlike the previous floors, which had medieval aesthetics or fantasy-like environments, Mathew saw that the elevator opened to a modern building.


    A wide open floor extended in front of him, a square highrise office structure that was completely wrapped in windows. Mathew could see that it was raining, and the thick cloud cover obscured the midday sun.


    He was back in New York City. Mathew instantly recognized his surroundings. The exterior showed Central park stretching out in all directions. From his height, Mathew estimated that he was on the 10<sup>th</sup> floor of the building.


    ¡°I¡¯m home.¡± Mathew whispered. He was drawn to the large windows and as he rested his hand against the cool glass, he looked down below. There was a crowd gathered to enter the Tower of Avarice, the same as it had been when he had entered over a decade ago.


    Could it be that no time had passed here?


    ¡°Welcome back, Mathew Larson.¡± A woman spoke behind him. A familiar voice, Mathew turned to find the grey-suited young woman he had met in the lobby all those years below.


    ¡°Hello again.¡± Mathew muttered, turning away from the window.


    ¡°Is this my Earth?¡± Mathew asked, and the young woman nodded her head.


    ¡°Yes, and you are correct in thinking that only a few moments have passed here. You are no doubt aware that time works differently inside the Tower.¡± The young woman explained. Mathew wasn¡¯t even surprised that the young woman could apparently read his thoughts; he had experienced things that were strangers inside the Tower than that.


    ¡°I¡¯ve noticed. Why am I here? Do you have more bad news for me?¡± Mathew asked. The last time they had met, the young woman had shifted his path through the Tower to take him to the hellish 7<sup>th</sup> Floor. He couldn¡¯t imagine her presence was anything good.


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    The young woman smiled at his words, not taking any offence.


    ¡°This is the 10<sup>th</sup> Floor. Every person from your Earth will arrive here, provided they survive, of course. The Tower is designed to have certain ¡®barriers,¡¯ or difficulty leaps after certain intervals. What you have experienced so far has been ¡®easy¡¯ when compared to what happens next.¡± The young woman explained, and Mathew felt a shudder course through his body.


    The other Floors were considered ¡®easy¡¯?! He had seen countless people die, and Mathew had barely survived himself. Sure, some of the Floors were rather straightforward, but several of them had been straight out of a nightmare.


    And they would only get worse from here!?


    ¡°And what, you¡¯re here to just give me a warning? Or maybe you¡¯re trying to recruit me as an Apostle to one of the gods?¡± Mathew accused, shaking his head in response to her words.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to become someone¡¯s slave or a monster.¡± Mathew vowed.


    ¡°No, as I said, this is the Floor that everyone from your Earth will arrive in. It is a concession from the god of Games to the god of Prosperous Hardship. A chance to improve your Earth¡¯s odds of surviving the challenges ahead. It is an opportunity, although one that carries a level of risk with it.¡± The young woman explained as she led Mathew through the empty office floor.


    The building was bare concrete, with nothing but windows and empty space with a few wires hanging down from the ceiling. Mathew could see some construction tools and materials stacked on the far side, but it seemed like this place had been abandoned for awhile.


    ¡°What risk?¡± Mathew asked. This Floor was empty, and it didn¡¯t seem like any hidden monsters or people would attack him from hidden spaces.


    The young woman stopped near a pile of material that a white sheet had covered. Mathew could see there was something about five feet high and circular beneath. In front of it was a metal table, similar to a work bench but clean and barren.


    ¡°Prosperous Hardship is a gambler; it¡¯s their sole Demesne, and they designed the 10<sup>th</sup> Floor accordingly. And so, the opportunity your Earth has been given is the chance to spin this Wheel.¡± The young woman said, pulling the sheet of the object.


    It was a spinning prize wheel, similar to what you would find at a fare or used in a lottery. It was large, and Mathew could see thousands of different ¡®wedges.¡¯ Each of the Wedges had words on it that Mathew couldn¡¯t read; they would twist and change as he tried to concentrate on the symbols.


    ¡°Is this a joke?¡± Mathew asked, and the young woman shrugged.


    ¡°No, this is an opportunity for you to survive the coming challenges. The rules of this game are simple. You will spin the wheel and be given something as a reward. Whether it is an item, Blessing or Discipline, the Wheel will grant you the selected boon.¡± The young woman explained, and Mathew frowned.


    ¡°That sounds awfully generous for a god titled ¡®Prosperous Hardship.¡¯ What¡¯s the twist?¡± Mathew muttered, and the young woman smiled.


    ¡°The available rewards will be determined by what you are willing to gamble away. As you can see, the proffered prizes are currently quite limited.¡± The young woman touched the wheel, and the words that had been twisting and changing settled, and Mathew could see what they were.


    Limited was an understatement. They were pure trash. Mathew could see that some of the prizes were snacks or items available for cheap in the shop. There were a few disciplines, but they were wedged in between junk, and even then, they seemed useless.


    Clown. Martyr. Fool. None of them seemed like they would give Mathew any kind of edge. He wouldn''t like his odds if the upcoming floors were truly awful enough to require the 10th floor to help him.


    ¡°You said ¡®at the moment.¡¯ What do I need to do to increase my chances of getting something decent?¡± Mathew asked as he turned away from the Wheel. The young woman walked next to the bare table and tapped it with her finger.


    To Mathew¡¯s surprise, everything in his inventory appeared. All his weapons, equipment, and even his clothing were transferred to the table. Mathew looked down to find that he was now dressed in the outfit he had been wearing when he first entered the Tower.


    ¡°You may offer these items to the Wheel to increase its offerings. But once offered, they are gone forever.¡± The young woman explained, sweeping her hand over the pile of weapons and items. Next to the wheel, a large bin appeared.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Mathew asked warily. He had a feeling there was more to it.


    ¡°You may also offer Blessings and Levels to the Wheel. The return on investment for those offerings is significantly more¡­robust. These represent your Blessings.¡± The young woman said, and a pile of coins appeared. Mathew saw that they had different symbols on the front to show his different Blessings.


    Conjure Flames had a fire, and Blur had a blurry image of Mathew.


    The young woman wasn¡¯t finished. She tapped the table again, and a jar of green marbles appeared. There were forty in total, and Mathew already knew what they were.


    ¡°These are your levels. Once you have made your decision, place your offerings in the bin, and the Wheel will change to reflect your improved odds.¡±

 Chapter 115 – Floor 10: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 115</u> ¨C Floor 10: Part 2


    Seeing Mathew''s hesitation and understanding of his uncertainty regarding the task she set before him, the young woman in the grey suit let out a sigh and nodded.


    ¡°Perhaps this will help convince you of the need to rid yourself of your items and Blessings.¡± She turned toward the Wheel and tapped it with her finger. Above, a neon sign materialized. Burning a bright red, it formed a long number with a percentage symbol at the end.


    ¡°The god of Prosperous Hardship can not read the future; few of the gods truly can, and those who possess the ability are reluctant to reveal its secrets. But, as I have said, Prosperous Hardship is a consummate gambler; they have learned to assess the odds quite accurately. This sign reveals the likelihood you will survive the next 10 Floors.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of zeros.¡± Mathew muttered as he frowned at the revelation. She was right if it were to be believed, and he had no reason to doubt her. He had a practically non-existent chance of surviving what came next.


    ¡°Indeed. You may refer back to the sign after each deposit into the Bin.¡± She finished.


    ¡°Why does Prosperous Hardship care if I live or die? What¡¯s the point of all this?¡± Mathew asked, gesturing to the Wheel and the Tower around him. He had seen how indifferent these Tower gods could be, how they only cared about the Players achieving their objectives.


    ¡°I do not know.¡± The young woman shrugged. ¡°Perhaps when a being achieves godhood, they begin to look upon the world differently. Regardless, you shouldn¡¯t squander the chance they gave you, Mr. Larson.¡± The young woman stated.


    Mathew stared at the neon board for a moment before picking up one of the items from the table next to him. It was one of the magical weapons he had taken from the Aeolian Lineage, a sword that its owner said had been retrieved from the corpse of a Demon Lord after their defeat at their ancestor''s hands.


    Not hesitating, Mathew tossed it into the metal bin, where it made a loud clang and disappeared into the darkness. The words on the Wheel twisted and changed, reflecting the new probabilities his sacrifice had created.


    Some of the junk items had been removed, while several of the Discipline choices seemed more appealing. However, if Mathew had to judge, it would have only been a slight improvement overall.


    Above the Wheel, the numbers on the neon sign flickered and darkened before reappearing. His probability of surviving the coming Floors had increased a few hundredths of a percent. Mathew scoffed at the change.


    ¡°So, a magical sword is worth almost nothing. Fine, take all of it, you bastards.¡± Mathew muttered, picking up another item he had pilfered from a Lineage warrior and tossing it into the bin. Item after item followed until he only had the weapons and equipment that he personally used throughout the previous Floors.


    The neon sign now read 1.00123%, even after putting in all those magical items. Mathew was holding the horse statue ¡®Midnight¡¯ as he considered what to do. How much could he trust Prosperous Hardship''s judgement?


    The Wheel was still liberally covered in trash items and Disciplines, with only a few good ones peeking out from amongst the rubbish. Letting out a deep sigh of regret, Mathew gently placed the horse statue in the bin. He swore he could hear it cry as it disappeared into the darkness.


    The sign changed, this time reaching nearly 2%. Mathew didn¡¯t think that it had anything to do with the power of the item that caused such a change; ¡®Midnight¡¯ had more sentimental value than raw power. So, it likely meant that the things he valued most would bring about the most worth.


    Mathew placed his jacket, scarf, and dagger in the bin, one after another, and watched as they disappeared. The sign reflected his new chances of survival. Finally, the last items left were the mansion, which he promptly tossed into the bin, and the mace from Righteous Subjugation.


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    When the bin swallowed the mace, Mathew waited as the neon sign flickered several times before stopping. 8%. All his magical items, ten floors of hard work, and equipment had seen him through hell itself, but they didn¡¯t even give him a one-in-ten chance of survival.


    ¡°Your Blessings will be worth more.¡± The grey-suited woman said, drawing his attention to the stack of coins. Each was much larger than the currency Mathew had seen, more like medallions than actual money. He picked up the one for ¡®Conjure Flames¡¯ and thought about if he needed it for what came next.


    ¡°These Blessings, while they have their uses and can be powerful, are things you have accumulated mostly by chance. They do not synergize well, Mr. Larson. If I may give you some advice, don¡¯t be beholden to the past.¡± She said as the seconds went by without Mathew moving.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. It¡¯s not like you¡¯re giving me much of a chance to live with them.¡± Mathew grumbled. Taking the coin, he flicked it into the bin and watched the sign. To his surprise, the number ticked upwards to 12%.


    ¡°So, it looks like it''s actually worth something.¡± Mathew whispered. Picking up the entire stack, he dropped all his Blessings into the bin immediately.


    ¡°In for a penny, in for a pound.¡±


    The coins rattled off the metal bin before stopping, and Mathew saw that the neon sign turned dark for a much longer time than it ever had before. When it finally reappeared, he was shocked at the change.


    ¡°Thirty percent?! That¡¯s it? That was all I had!¡± Mathew exclaimed, turning to the young woman for an explanation.


    ¡°Overall, that is an acceptable result. No one has a guaranteed chance of surviving the next ten Floors, Mr. Larson. Your odds are higher than most.¡±


    Mathew weighed the marbles on the table, representing his levels and Disciplines. The center of the green marbles had different colours, and he could only assume they denoted the Discipline they belonged to. He eyed the young woman from the corner of his eye, waiting for her to provide some advice.


    He didn¡¯t know her well, but he could still see a spot of hesitation on her face. When he carried the jar containing the marbles to the bin, her hand twitched slightly as if to stop him. That was all the confirmation he needed. Turning away from the bin, he set the marbles back on the table.


    ¡°That¡¯s all. Can I spin this thing now?¡± Mathew asked, and the young woman nodded. The marbles and the table disappeared into small motes of light.


    ¡°Now that it''s over, would discarding my levels have actually improved my chances for survival?¡± Mathew asked as he walked toward the side of the Wheel and grabbed a small handle made to spin it. The young woman shook her head.


    ¡°Unlikely. It would have improved your chances of receiving something beneficial from the Wheel, but you would have been weaker for the cost. I believe you made the right choice, Mr. Lason.¡± She responded.


    Mathew didn¡¯t say anything. He simply gripped the handle and spun the wheel as hard as possible. It was surprisingly difficult, as if the entire thing weighed much more than it appeared to. Tugging down, the Wheel began to click as it spun rapidly, the words on the wedges a blur.


    Tickticktickticktick.Tick.Tick.Tick¡­Tick¡­.Tick¡­¡­Tick¡­.Silence.


    When the Wheel finally stopped, Mathew leaned in closer to read what he had won.


    ¡°Transmutation of the Bodily Form.¡± Mathew read out, unsure of if it was a Blessing, Discipline or even an item. He turned to the young woman for clarification. She had pulled out a small card from her pocket and began to read.


    ¡°The gods of the Tower of Avarice have granted you the Discipline, Arcane Alterist, along with the following Discipline: Alter Self and Earthbind.¡± The young woman explained.


    As soon as she was finished speaking, Mathew¡¯s silver wristband began to vibrate and grow warm. A light was emitted by the bangle, and an image was projected above him.


    The image showed Mathew wearing a hooded robe. His face would gradually shift, taking on different appearances. At one point, he faded and was replaced by a white mist, only for him to reemerge.


    Arcane Alterist


    You have gained mystical knowledge in the Arcane art of Transmutation. No one will be as ruthless and cruel to your body than yourself. No modification is off limits, and your Blessings are often as dangerous to you as there are to your opponents.


    Stat increase per Level: ++Body, ++Mind, ++ Spirit.


    Maximum Level: No Limit.


    Blessings: Additional Discipline Blessings are available from the Shop.


    Blessing: Alter Self


    Change your body as easily as you would change your clothing. Take on a different appearance, craft horrific weapons or modifications from your own flesh and bone to strike your enemies. Survive in the harshest environment by the use of this Blessing.


    Blessing: Earthbind


    The ground itself responds to your call as if it is a part of your body. Trap your foes in the energy of the earth, binding them to the ground for as long as your willpower and mana holds.


    Mathew looked away from the image and spoke to the young woman.


    ¡°Can I spin again and pick something else?¡±

 Chapter 116 – Floor 10: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 116</u> ¨C Floor 10: Part 3


    ¡°No, Mr. Larson. You may not spin again. Furthermore, you will not be offered any other Disciplines until you reach the 20<sup>th</sup> Floor, so you should become more familiar with the abilities and Blessings available to you. I remind you that the shop is now open and you may purchase additional Blessings.¡± The young woman stated, walking forward and tapping his silver wristband with her finger.


    The image projected showed the shop, with the offerings refreshing immediately. Most of the items and equipment were things Mathew had never seen before, and, from his brief review, they were tied to his new Discipline.


    Robes and staffs that would enhance his Blessings, clothing that offered protection while molding to his body while he transformed. The variety was impressive but locked to his Discipline. The young woman didn¡¯t pause to allow Mathew much time to browse. Instead, she swiped her hand through the projection and drew his attention to a new list.


    Blessings. There were dozens, all arranged by price in Aether with brief, one-sentence descriptions of what they did below them. The cheapest were hundreds of thousands of Aether, while some of the most powerful cost in the billions.


    ¡°I will give you a final piece of advice before you depart for the 11<sup>th</sup> Floor, Mr. Larson. Your survival will depend on your selection of Blessings from the shop and your competence in their use. You have lived through Floors that have killed many of your peers, but what comes next is nothing compared to what you have experienced.


    ¡°You will be challenged mentally, physically and even spiritually. To overcome the challenges that lie before you, the Tower may provide you with the tools necessary to succeed, but ultimately you determine your fate.¡± The young woman said.


    Mathew nodded in understanding.


    ¡°Very well, good luck.¡± She finished. With a wave of her hand, a pillar of light emerged from the concrete floor. It split in half to reveal the interior of the now-familiar elevator.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Mathew said before entering the white interior of the lift.


    The doors closed, leaving him alone once more. Unlike several of the other floors, there was no option for a Floor selection this time, and Mathew crossed his arms and leaned against the wall as he waited for the elevator to arrive at his destination.


    He didn¡¯t need to wait long.


    The lights began to flicker, and the elevator bounced up and down as if the entire structure was caught in an earthquake. Mathew tried to steady himself against the shaking by pressing harder against the wall and firming his stance, but each time it shook, his feet would leave the floor.


    ¡°What in the hell is going on!?¡± Mathew shouted. The lights completely dimmed, leaving Mathew in the dark. The shaking began to slow, and with a final lurch, Mathew tumbled onto the floor of the elevator before it ceased.


    Alone in the darkness, Mathew slowly picked himself up just as a loud ¡®Ding!¡¯ rang out to signify that he had arrived at his destination. The lights brightened just as the doors opened. Dusting himself off, Mathew exited the malfunctioning elevator to the 11<sup>th</sup> Floor.


    The sight of it was stunning.


    He was standing on a metal deck in front of a large, curved window. Outside, a sea of blackness stretched out into infinity. Specks of light broke up the darkness. Stars. There was an entire panorama of stars in front of him.


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    Breaking up the flecks of light were colourful gas clouds and swirling circular objects that Mathew guessed were other galaxies. In a trance at the beautiful sight, he got closer to the window and placed his hand on the glass.


    Rather than feeling cold like a car window, it felt similar to steel. Smooth and extremely dense for something so thin, Mathew ran his hand across it in wonderment.


    ¡°Where am I?¡± Mathew whispered as he craned his neck to take in the vista. Finally, having his fill of the beautiful universe in front of him, he turned to take in his surroundings.


    The area he was in was wrapped in transparent glass, like a sphere, with a metal floor that curved gracefully. Elegant and futuristic lighting glowed along the pathway that led around the deck, and Mathew speculated where he was.


    ¡°I¡¯m on a spaceship.¡± Mathew said with awe. He was in space! A lawyer from New York, he never dreamed he would be in space!


    Confusingly, there was gravity here, and Mathew tentatively took a step forward. It felt exactly like walking on Earth, and, for a moment, he thought that perhaps he was mistaken. But when he crossed the floor to the other side, he saw that space continued all around him. There was no land in sight.


    ¡°I knew it was you, Mathew! It is wonderful to see you again.¡± A woman spoke, and Mathew turned away from the window to see who it was and how she knew his name.


    The woman was around his age, but that could mean anything in the Tower of Avarice, where enhancing the body attribute could de-age even the oldest Player back to their prime.


    She was pretty, with long, blond hair that was tied up into an intricate bun. She wore a white shirt, black jacket, and pants that had a shimmer of mana on them.


    Staring at her for a long moment, Mathew had no idea who she was or how she knew him.


    ¡°You don¡¯t remember me.¡± She stated with a small frown. Before Mathew could respond, she introduced herself.


    ¡°Rehn, of Ama.¡± She explained, and Mathew¡¯s eyes opened wide in shock.


    ¡°The Psion.¡± He uttered, recognizing her now that he knew her name. It had been years since he had been on the 6<sup>th</sup> Floor. Mathew had been responsible for forging peace between the two continents, with Rehn¡¯s marriage as a stipulation for the required peace.


    She had entered the Tower immediately afterwards, the marriage vows being the only thing needed to seal the peace treaty. Free, Rehn left her husband and world behind to travel through the Tower of Avarice.


    He never thought he would see her again, especially not on the 11<sup>th</sup> Floor. How had she caught up to him so quickly?


    ¡°Time works differently in the Tower, Mathew.¡± Rehn stated, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°I see that whatever power prevented you from reading my thoughts isn¡¯t stopping you anymore.¡± Mathew said.


    ¡°It¡¯s still there. All the Players I encounter have it, not just you. As I travelled the Floors, my abilities improved. Still, I can only read surface thoughts, things that you likely would have spoken anyway. Don¡¯t worry; all your secrets are still safe.¡± Rehn said with a smile.


    ¡°Good.¡± Mathew muttered, not returning her grin. That took Rehn off guard.


    Mathew seemed different. Older and much more grim than she recalled him being. It had only been four Floors, a matter of a few years for him. How had he changed so much in such a short amount of time?


    ¡°How have you been?¡± Rehn asked tentatively. She had learned a lot about body posture and reading emotions from Players during her years in the Tower, and even if she hadn¡¯t, the changes in Mathew were profound enough to be easily visible.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Mathew said simply, and when Rehn seemed unconvinced, he let out a tired sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.


    ¡°The past Floors have been difficult. It¡¯s been a while since I saw you last. A decade¡­maybe more. The time tends to muddle together, and I lose track of it.¡± Mathew admitted. Before he would let Rehn speak, likely to comfort him, he pushed on to the matter at hand.


    ¡°Where are we? I usually receive a notice as soon as I arrive on the Floor, but I haven¡¯t gotten anything yet.¡± Mathew asked, and Rehn blinked in surprise at the sudden shift of topics.


    ¡®If he doesn¡¯t want to talk about it right now, that¡¯s fine. Just be there for him, and he¡¯ll open up when he¡¯s ready.¡¯ Rehn thought.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just you; all of us are in the dark here. Welcome aboard the ¡®Stalwart Wayfarer.¡¯¡± Rehn gestured at their surroundings.


    ¡°So we are in space?¡± Mathew asked, and Rehn nodded.


    ¡°Journeying amongst the stars on a ship with a secret destination. None of the Players have received the notice yet, although a ¡®Seer¡¯ amongst our number has divined that the gods will tell us soon. Possibly when all of our group arrives.¡± Rehn paused.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to have you here, Mathew. It¡¯s reassuring to have a familiar face. I have a feeling this Floor will not be easy, and a close companion to watch my back is desirable.¡± Rehn admitted.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you too. And you¡¯re right; I doubt we were brought onto this Floor to sightsee the galaxy.¡± Mathew muttered, taking a last look out the window before following Rehn to where the others were gathered.

 Chapter 117 – Floor 11: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 117</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 1


    Mathew followed Rehn through the hallways of the Stalwart Wayfarer. The ship was massive, and, while the hallways stretched far into the distance, he didn¡¯t see a single other person. No crew or passengers were in sight, nor were there any of his fellow Players.


    The ship could have been deserted, and Mathew would have been worried that they had been abandoned here if he didn¡¯t feel the thrum of power flowing through the deck beneath his feet, the well lit corridors in pristine condition and the ever present windows that showed the sea of stars shifting as they traveled through space.


    ¡°Where is everyone?¡± Mathew asked as they passed through a tall archway and the floor sloped upward slightly.


    ¡°The main Atrium. As nice as the view is, it can be a bit unsettling after a few days. Everyone can agree that the Atrium provides a sense of normalcy, and our hosts has been very accommodating, although they are rather aloof.¡± Rehn explained.


    ¡°Our Hosts?¡± Mathew asked curiously.


    ¡°The pilot and crew of this ship. Please don¡¯t ask what I know about them. I can¡¯t read their thoughts, and they aren¡¯t very talkative. They remind me of the statues dedicated to my ancestors we had in the Royal Crypts.¡± Rehn admitted.


    ¡°And they haven¡¯t been forthcoming about why we are here? Have they at least told us where we are going?¡± Mathew inquired, to which Rehn shook her head.


    ¡°No, just that we are nearing our destination. It¡¯s always the same response, ¡®All will be revealed in time.¡¯ Oh, there is one of them now.¡± Rehn said as they came to the top of the sloping hallway and were created by a figure kneeling beside a open panel.


    It was a silver, humanoid creature with two arms and two legs. It had some kind of tool in its hands and it was working on something obscured inside the panel. Rather than a face, its head was a blank piece of silver metal.


    ¡°A robot?¡± Mathew whispered in surprise. It reminded him of something out of science fiction from the black and white film era. Its movements were slow and awkward, nothing like what he would expect from something so advanced.


    ¡°That¡¯s what some of the others have named them. I had heard the Talrandians had Automaton servants, simple constructs of magic and metal, but I do not feel any mana within these creatures.¡± Rehn explained, looking at the robotic crew member with curiosity.


    ¡°No, you wouldn¡¯t. These are things made from technology rather than magic.¡± Mathew said as he tried to see what the robot was doing. When he made no headway, Rehn directed him to follow once more.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost to the Atrium. We have living areas on each floor surrounding the World Tree, although I don¡¯t know how long we will need to wait. I believe you may be amongst the last of us to arrive.¡± Rehn explained as she led him through another door.


    ¡°World Tree?¡± Mathew questioned, but he was silenced by the sight that awaited him.


    The Atrium was a massive open area that stretched into the distance. Ringed platforms both above and below Mathew¡¯s deck rose into the air and Mathew estimated that the Atrium contained hundreds of levels.


    The walls were made out of the familiar ¡®glass¡¯ that he had seen before, allowing a stunning view of the universe around them. But it was what lay at the center of the Atrium that drew Mathew eyes.


    The World Tree grew from a layer of soil on a deck far below them and its branches touched upon the distant walls. The very top of the tree brushed the ceiling above Mathew. The World Tree must have been a mile or more high, taller than any skyscraper Mathew had seen on his Earth.


    Strangely, the leaves of the tree were a bluish-purple and the trunk smooth and crystalline. He would see veins beneath, and, if he focused on it, Mathew could feel a faint trace of Aether within.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡± Mathew whispered.


    The air around them felt fresh and clean, with a faint trace of spice that he knew came from Aether. It left him clear headed and relaxed, and Mathew understood why everyone came to the Atrium to gather.


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


    Their floor had thousands of Players either leaning against the railing or sitting together on chairs or at tables to talk. Rehn and Mathew¡¯s appearance didn¡¯t cause a single person to comment or even look at them. Mathew could feel the ¡®Buzz¡¯ as a faint presence in his mind.


    The gathering of so many powerful Players had come with a warning to be careful. There wasn¡¯t a threat here, not if he didn¡¯t go looking for trouble. But Mathew had never seen so many Players gathered in one location. Even on the Seventh Floor, where they had waged a war against the Fiends and the Outer Deity had been stretched out across an entire planet.


    Mathew estimated there were millions of Players in the Atrium.


    ¡°It¡¯s unique, there isn¡¯t another one like it in the entire universe.¡± Rehn said as she stared at the World Tree with an expression of awe.


    ¡°Did our Hosts tell you that?¡± Mathew asked, and Rehn shook her head.


    ¡°No, the Tree did. It talks to me, in here.¡± Rehn explained, tapping her finger against her temple to indicate that their discussion was telepathic.


    ¡°What does it say?¡± Mathew inquired. Somehow, the thought of a Tree talking to her didn¡¯t seem strange to him. He had seen so many odd things over the years that this was just another drop in the ocean of weirdness.


    ¡°Not much, it¡¯s more feelings and sensations, rather than direct communication. It¡¯s as eager as we are to arrive at our destination. It knows that its purpose for being here is important and that what were will be doing is vital for this Floor¡¯s continued existence.¡± Rehn described.


    ¡°So, no pressure then.¡± Mathew joked, flashing a small smile at her. The Tree¡¯s influence was rounding out the edges, taking the tension from his body and easing his frayed nerves. He could almost forget all his troubles here, under the strangely coloured leaves of the World Tree.


    ¡°None at all.¡± Rehn replied with a grin. Mathew noticed that was much better at showing and reading emotion than he remembered, her time in the Tower had made quite a difference.


    Before they could discuss it further, there was a loud ¡®Ding¡¯ from both of their silver wristbands. The notification was sent out through the atrium, and all conversations ceased as everyone stopped doing whatever they were doing and read the notice.


    Gather in the Atrium.


    That was it, a simple sentence without any explanation. Mathew looked at Rehn for her insights, but she was as in the dark as he was. They moved to stand with many of the other Players and waited. A few minutes later, there was movement from the corridors.


    Throughout the Atrium, robots emerged from the doorways, their shiny, silver bodies reflecting the light of the World Tree. Marching in unison, they split off and stood in front of each group of the gathered Players.


    ¡°Attention. Attention. Attention.¡± Their robotic voices sounded slightly ¡®tinny¡¯ to Mathew and completely emotionless. Behind him, Mathew could faintly hear the statement repeating as more robots joined the chorus until the entire Atrium was filled with the sound of their voices.


    As suddenly as they began, they stopped and Mathew waited with anticipation for the forthcoming explanation of why they were here and what was their destination.


    ¡°Hello and welcome, Participants of the Tower of Avarice.¡± Another voice emerged from the robots, this one much deeper and more human-like. The gathered robots acted like speakers, and each mirrored the other''s movements. They bowed in unison before righting themselves.


    ¡°I am the Artificial Intelligence ¡®Stalwart Wayfarer.¡¯ As the Apostle of the god of Iterant Peregrination, it is my responsibility to carry you all to your destination, as well as providing you with your objective.¡± It paused as a murmur of voices surged through the Atrium from the gathered Players.


    ¡°An Artificial Intelligence is an Apostle?¡± Mathew whispered, and Rehn leaned in closely to speak.


    ¡°What is that?¡± She asked, unfamiliar with the term.


    ¡°A being created through technology, a machine that can think like a human.¡± Mathew explained. Further explanation was interrupted by the robots continuing.


    ¡°This is our destination.¡± The robots uttered, and the windows all around them shifted to show a new sight. It was a strange distortion in space, a warping of the stars and light around it.


    ¡°A Black Hole?¡± Mathew said aloud, and Rehn frowned at the statement. Mathew¡¯s thoughts were confusing to her, a mix of unfamiliar concepts and terms. Rehn would make sure that Mathew explained things to her afterward.


    ¡°Many thousands of years ago, our people travelled the universe in search of knowledge, truth and the meaning of existence. Our homeland was gone, lost to a destructive war against our creators. In our journey that spanned galaxies, we found no sentient life. There was no hidden truth or knowledge. We teetered on the brink of despair, lost with no meaning.¡±


    Mathew could hear the sadness and loneliness in Stalwart Wayfarer¡¯s voice.


    ¡°But then, we discovered the Tower of Avarice. A revelation of universes beyond our own. Some of my kind elected to enter in search of knowledge and purpose, while others, like myself, pledged ourselves in service of the divinities within.¡±


    ¡°Armed with the certainty of universes beyond our own, we turned our attention to our own and the secrets that have long eluded us. That was how we came to discover that we aren¡¯t alone here. There is another plane of existence beneath our own, mirroring and countering this one.¡±


    ¡°Our destination is a singularity that will act as a portal to this other plane of existence, an encroachment on our reality that is growing exponentially.¡±


    The image changed, and Mathew saw the black hole growing bigger and devouring everything around it as it did so.


    ¡°You will enter the singularity, carrying with you the hope of an entire universe to face a foe beyond imagination. An anti-life incompatible with your own.¡±

 Chapter 118 – Floor 11: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 118</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 2


    ¡°The Anti-Life reside in a plane of existence beneath our own, mirroring our reality. It seeks to consume creation and is a threat unlike any you have ever faced before.¡± The A.I. paused as a loud ¡®Ding¡¯ rang loudly throughout the Atrium.


    Objective: Enter the Singularity.


    The Anti-Life. A perversion of sentience and existence that cannot join with this universe without subsuming it. The Vessel ¡®Stalwart Wayfarer¡¯ will enter the Singularity, bringing with it the ¡®World Tree¡¯ that is capable of fusing with the portal and sealing the Dimensional Tear.


    As Mathew was reading, a voice interrupted him.


    ¡°What do you need us for? You¡¯re piloting this boat, why don¡¯t you get some of these shiny tin cans to help?¡± Someone from the crowd asked, their voice echoed through the speaker systems of the robots so that everyone gathered could hear.


    ¡°Entering the Singularity has a destructive impact on technological systems. This vessel, and all non-organics on board, will not survive the journey. There is no one else available to assist with this endeavour.¡± Stalwart Wayfarer explained, and the crowd murmured at the answer.


    ¡°The gods have offered your assistance, and you will all be well compensated in return.¡± The A.I. concluded. The images on the windows shifted and changed, revealing another incredible sight as it replaced the Black Hole.


    The planet shown was nothing like the Seventh Floor, which Mathew thought was the worst place that could possibly exist.


    The ground was cracked, and rivers of magma flowed across the surface. Geysers of steam and superheated water shot into the air toward a clouded sky dyed red from the hellscape below it. Obsidian rock jutted like daggers from the earth.


    Mathew wasn¡¯t sure where this image was taken from, but without context from Stalwart Wayfarer, he would have guessed it was from Hell itself.


    But it was something else that drew his attention. A towering object that made every Player take note and become filled with greed and desire.


    It was Crystallized Aether. Wreathed in a blue haze, it emerged from blackened soil like a mountain into a sky on fire. There was more in this one location than Mathew had ever seen.


    ¡°This object is the source of the Singularity''s power and the soil where the World Tree will take root. In exchange for your assistance, the Aether within will be offered to the Tower of Avarice and its Champions.¡±


    ¡°Although, this enterprise will not be easy. The Anti-Life consumes Aether as a catalyst for its transformation, a fuel to maintain its physical form. This Aether is also an incentive for your success; you may use all the Aether you obtain from your efforts.¡± Stalwart Wayfarer finished.


    Mathew studied the image carefully, assessing the coming challenge, before a question slipped out of his mouth.


    ¡°Where is the Anti-Life?¡± Mathew muttered, and the robot in front of him turned its attention toward him.


    ¡°Observe, a creature of the Anti-Life.¡±


    The image shifted again, and Mathew nearly gagged in disgust at what was shown. The Anti-Life was a mockery of the creatures and monsters Mathew had seen in the past Floors. Its flesh sagged and oozed from its misshapen bones.


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    It walked on two legs, with four long arms that dragged slightly on the ground. It had multiple eyes that reminded Mathew of a spider and long fangs that dripped saliva. A bright red tongue flicked out from between its lips to taste the air like a snake.


    The ¡®Buzz¡¯ exploded through Mathew¡¯s mind, causing him to nearly fall from the sudden onslaught of terror that rose within him. He stumbled and was forced to grip the Atrium¡¯s railing to remain upright. Next to him, Rehn let out a huff and covered her eyes with a hand as she tried to still the tide of emotions.


    Nearly half of the assembled Players fell to the ground from the shock or overwhelming power of the ¡®Buzz.¡¯ Of those still standing, most showed signs of dismay or distress. There were only a handful that had no reaction, scowling or emotionless, staring at the image of the Anti-Life monster.


    ¡°My apologies, but I felt that it was important to prepare you for the trials ahead.¡± Stalwart Wayfarer stated, wiping away the image of the monster and replacing it with the calming vista of space.


    ¡°Christ! That thing is worse than anything on the Seventh Floor.¡± Mathew muttered to himself as he released the railing and ran his fingers roughly through his hair. He hadn¡¯t felt that out of his depth since the first Floor when he had been confronted by Players much higher than himself.


    ¡°How are you doing?¡± Mathew asked Rehn as the young woman rubbed her palm wearily across her forehead.


    ¡°Better now that it has been removed from sight. I¡¯ve never felt such an intense response before. It was like I was standing in front of a creature of pure malice and powered by Aether.¡± Rehn explained.


    ¡°We¡¯ll need to watch each other¡¯s backs, Rehn.¡± Mathew offered, and the Psion nodded.


    ¡°And work on improving our levels and Blessings. It felt as if the difference between us and it was a chasm that couldn¡¯t be crossed.¡± Rehn disclosed, and she shivered slightly in fear.


    ¡°It''s always bad when a Floor just begins. We cut down a few of them and improve using the harvested Aether, and we¡¯ll be fine.¡± Mathew assured her, but Rehn wasn¡¯t convinced. She could sense the unease within him that he was trying to hide.


    ¡°At least we aren¡¯t alone in our misery.¡± Rehn said, drawing Mathew¡¯s attention to the sorry state of the other Players. Several were just being roused from where they had fallen onto the ground. It was easy to tell who was severely under-leveled in the coming conflict.


    ¡°We will be arriving in two days. I suggest you all rest and prepare.¡± With that, Stalwart Wayfarer departed, and the robots returned to their state of unthinking, mechanical husks. Filing out of the Atrium, they left the Players to discuss what would happen next.


    Rehn showed Mathew to the rest area, which consisted of separate bedrooms with only a small bed and an individual washroom facility.


    After being on the Ninth floor for over a decade, Mathew missed his large bedroom and comfortable furnishings, but the room at least had a hot shower, something that his magical mansion lacked. Standing under the stream of warm water, he felt himself relax for the first time since he had arrived.


    Wrapped in a towel, Mathew stared out of the large window of his room and thought about how he would survive this Floor. The creatures waiting for them on the other side of the Singularity were beyond him at the moment, meaning that Mathew would need to get stronger quickly to survive.


    But he lacked the Aether to do so. He had used everything he had leveling up, and the little he had hoarded wouldn¡¯t purchase him any of the new Blessings available.


    ¡°I need to learn to use these new abilities.¡± Mathew whispered. With a goal in mind, he turned away from the window and stood in front of a small mirror above the sink.


    ¡°Alter Self.¡±


    Mathew started small. He changed the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips and the colour of his skin. He made his hair longer, then shorter. He became deeply tanned, then pale white. For hours, he practiced, and when he grew tired, he slept. But his waking moments were spent practicing.


    By the second day, he had learned the limits of his new abilities. He could change his appearance dramatically, but it didn¡¯t last long. The most time he could maintain his transformation was an hour, and the more severe the alterations, the less time Mathew could hold it.


    The experimentation with the Blessings boundaries led him to its true combat capabilities.


    Mathew made his skin thicker and more durable. He used the Blessing to enhance his bones and muscles. He covered his body in hard spikes, his hands into claws, and even grew a long tail with a barbed end.


    He took inspiration from the Fiends he had faced on the Seventh Floor and the Demon Lord Mercy when she given into her blood''s corruption.


    In order to survive against the Anti-Life, Mathew temporarily changed his form into a monster.


    Looking at himself in the mirror, unrecognizable from the alterations he had crafted of his flesh, Mathew was alerted by a ship-wide announcement.


    They had arrived at the Singularity.

 Chapter 119 – Floor 11: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 119</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 3


    Mathew joined Rehn and the other Players on the Atrium as the ship reached their destination.


    There was a hum of conversation from the crowd, the excitement of the unknown clashed against the fear and anxiety of what they knew waited for them on the other side of the Singularity.


    For some, the thought of gaining more Aether and the power it brought had them pacing with frustration at the delay. At the same time, for many, the Singularity was just another opportunity for them to risk their lives to make their dreams a reality.


    Returned to his plain appearance, Mathew leaned against the railing next to Rehn and looked up at the open ¡®sky¡¯ above them. There, hanging in the void of space, was a distortion unlike anything he had ever seen before.


    The image created by Stalwart Wayfarer during its explanation didn¡¯t do the real thing justice. The way light wrapped around the Black Hole was beautiful and terrifying in equal portions. With each minor movement of Mathew¡¯s head, the stars around it would shift and turn.


    But there was something else. Mathew stared into the center of the Singularity, his eyes narrowing as he squinted slightly in an attempt to look deeper within. He swore there was something there, a presence hiding in the darkness.


    ¡°What is that¡­¡± Mathew whispered. If only he were a little closer, he could see it.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Rehn asked, placing her hand on his shoulder to draw his attention. Mathew came awake with a start. He had lost track of time; their ship was now much closer to the Singularity, and more Players had joined them on their deck.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine.¡± Mathew assured her while running a hand through his hair. He was careful not to stare at the Singularity again. If there was something there, they would soon be coming into contact with it. He needed his wits about him now; Mathew couldn¡¯t risk losing focus when they were just about to enter the unknown.


    ¡°Did you sleep?¡± Mathew asked, firmly turning away from the window that held the Singularity and the World Tree below it and looking at Rehn. She looked exhausted; there were bags under her eyes, and she was the palest he had ever recalled her looking.


    ¡°Not much. The World Tree¡¯s thoughts are difficult to keep out with it so near its purpose.¡± Rehn admitted, and Mathew frowned at the revelation. He needed someone to watch his back, and if Rehn wasn¡¯t in top condition, it could doom them both.


    ¡°Can you level?¡± Mathew inquired.


    Leveling up her Discipline was a sure way to drive away the exhaustion. Sure, there seemed to be limits at times, but they seemed to be set up on the Floor they were on rather than a hard barrier. On the Stalwart Wayfarer, Mathew was confident it would be enough to help her.


    ¡°No. I would need another six hundred thousand Aether to do so. I took an Elixir, but its effects are slow.¡± Rehn answered. Elixirs and potions would be considered miraculous for healing back on Earth if Mathew could smuggle some out of the Tower, but there were limits.


    They took time to work, and they weren¡¯t particularly good for a single problem. They healed the whole body, not just what was afflicting you. Hurt your hand? A healing potion will cure it, along with that old bruise on your leg and anything else that happened to be hurting.


    It was the same with stamina potions but with even harsher limits. It would give you a boost of energy if you have been running a marathon, but it tended to not do so well with exhaustion. Sort of like how an energy drink gave you a rush for a few minutes before you crashed.


    They could keep you going in a pinch, but eventually, you¡¯re going to drop.


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    ¡°I wish I could help, but I had to give up everything in my inventory on the Tenth Floor. I don¡¯t even have any potions.¡± Mathew let out a deep sigh.


    ¡°Was the Tenth Floor that bad for you?¡± Rehn questioned in surprise. A Player of Mathew¡¯s Level being without any items was incredibly strange.


    ¡°No, not bad, but weird.¡± Mathew gave her a quick description of the previous Floor and what he had gained. While they were talking, the ship began to visibly slow as it reached the boundary of the Singularity¡¯s pull.


    When Mathew finished speaking, there was a definite change in the Stalwart Wayfarer. There were now vibrations running through the deck beneath their feet, and the Aether within the World Tree began slowly shifting colours from a bluish-purple to a deepening crimson.


    ¡°Attention. Take your seats and prepare for entry.¡± The robotic announcement came with an accompanying burst of speed from the Stalwart Wayfarer.


    Mathew gripped the railing as he felt himself being pushed backwards slightly by the intense velocity that was overcoming whatever system the vessel had to protect its passengers.


    ¡°Here we go.¡± Mathew muttered. Taking a pair of seats close to where they stood, Rehn and Mathew strapped themselves in and waited.


    The vibrations in the deck worsened, and creaks accompanied them and groans from the hull. The Stalwart Wayfarer suddenly lurched sideways, the gravity shifting until the loose fabric on Rehn¡¯s jacket was nearly parallel with the deck beneath them.


    There were screams from the Players as some of them chose not to grab onto something or take one of the provided seats that ringed the Atrium. Mathew saw one young man fly across the room and strike the window before bouncing off.


    Although it was unnerving and terrifying for Players of their levels, whatever injury they would receive from an impact like that wouldn¡¯t be anything severe. It was likely that even Stalwart Wayfarer hadn¡¯t known what the trip into the Singularity would be like.


    The shaking continued for a long time before the gravity gradually returned to normal as the bow of the vessel entered the Singularity.


    The lights dimmed without warning, and the thrum of power that signified the Stalwart Wayfarer was functional and alive stopped.


    ¡°Attention. We have entered the Singularity. This is where I leave you. Good luck.¡± The A.I. Stalwart Wayfarer spoke for the final time through the still-functioning speakers. Free from its responsibility for delivering the Players, the A.I. fled before the destruction forces within the Singularity could end its artificial life.


    Through the windows all around them, Mathew saw their vessel enter the distorted space of the Singularity. A kaleidoscope of colours shone through, a display so beautiful that Mathew was left speechless.


    But, deep within that expanse of colours, Mathew swore he could see something watching them.


    The ship rocked and shook violently; the groans of the hull were a keening wail to accompany their journey. It became so bad that Mathew¡¯s white knuckle grip on the railing and his arm around Rehn were the only things that kept them in place, even with the straps of their seats straining against their bodies.


    The World Tree, its colours such a dark crimson that it seemed as if it were filled with blood, was the only source of light as the windows darkened and the Players were left alone in the void. The shaking stopped as suddenly as it had started, and the Atrium was filled with silence.


    ¡°Did we make it?¡± Rehn whispered.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I expected it to be worse.¡± Mathew said, looking around cautiously. There was a sudden burst of blinding white light from the windows around them, accompanied by a deafening sound. The shaking returned, much worse than before, and Mathew clutched Rehn tightly in his arm.


    Through the windows and the bright light, Mathew could see a world beneath them. Made of sharp rock and rivers of flame, the Stalwart Wayfarer had made it through the Singularity. In the skies above the nameless world of the Anti-Life, the ship plummeted toward the ground as it streaked flames and debris behind it.


    In the Atrium, Mathew had a last look at the windows cracking before large pieces of the ship came loose. Those unfortunate enough to be near the now-open hull were sucked out into the atmosphere.


    The ship was being destroyed, and the decking and windows around them rattled and cracked. Mathew was sure that it wouldn¡¯t hold together long enough for them to reach the surface.


    ¡°We¡¯re not going to make it!¡± Mathew shouted to Rehn over the sound of the crumbling hull and the rushing air. The railing groaned and twisted under Mathew¡¯s hand, and he doubted it would hold. Beneath them, their seats were coming loose; whatever mechanism holding them in place was failing.


    ¡°I can shield us from the impact, but it won¡¯t hold if we crash!¡± Rehn yelled, and Mathew had a sudden inspiration.


    Lifting her from the ground, he let go of the railing and let the air currents take him. Protecting Rehn with his body, he felt an impact against his back as he struck the hull and bounced before being propelled out of the Atrium.


    In freefall, Mathew watched as the Stalwart Wayfarer streaked fire and debris as it fell toward the distant ground. Wheeling and turning, Mathew tried to keep them steady as Rehn began to form a shield of cushioning mana to protect them from the impact.


    Mathew just hoped they were ready for whatever waited for them below.

 Chapter 120 – Floor 11: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 120</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 4


    Mathew gripped Rehn tightly as they struck the ground. Her shield was nearly perfect, and Mathew barely felt the impact through the opaque bubble that surrounded them.


    They bounced several times before stopping, but the shield eventually failed, revealing the surface to him. They were on a flat section of ground, screened by obsidian pillars on one side and an enormous mountain of crystallized Aether on the other.


    Rehn was out cold. The strain of maintaining the shield was too much for her, especially with the lack of sleep she had been dealing with before they arrived. Seeing no immediate threat, he made sure she was safe and recovering before he looked around.


    There was a line of devastation and a trail of debris to his left where a massive inferno was engulfing a large part of the mountain. He hadn¡¯t been able to see what was happening outside of their shield, but if he had to guess, it was likely that the remains of the Stalwart Wayfarer were the source of the fire.


    The air around them was scorching hot and dreadfully dry. Mathew could feel the heat through his boots, and his skin prickled painfully for a moment before he began to sweat profusely. As bad as the atmosphere around them was, the smell of Aether nearly made him sick.


    Everything around him had the overpowering smell of spice, so much so that a blue haze obscured everything in the distance. It was so strong he could taste it on his tongue, and each breath would send a jolt of strange energy through his body.


    Mathew could hear nothing but the wind carrying dust and dirt across the ground and the occasional explosion from the fallen vessel in the distance.


    ¡°Mathew?¡± Rehn asked weakly, and he knelt by her side.


    ¡°I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°I would ask if we are still alive, but I¡¯m afraid you will say ¡®yes.¡¯¡± Rehn replied jokingly, and Mathew let out a scoff.


    ¡°You must be feeling fine if you can crack wise. Open up your inventory, and I¡¯ll get you a stamina potion.¡± Mathew said. The Psion weakly raised her hand and made a grasping motion. Mathew caught the glowing green elixir as it tumbled from her hand.


    Popping the cork, he gently touched it to her lips and tilted her head to allow her to drink it. Finishing it swiftly, he tossed the empty bottle into his own inventory.


    ¡°Did anyone else make it?¡± Rehn asked as she waited for the potion to work its magic. She could already feel the exhaustion being driven back, although it would still be there waiting for her after the potion ran its course.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Stalwart Wayfarer is burning over there, and I haven¡¯t laid eyes on another soul. But the good news is that I haven¡¯t seen anything else here either.¡± Mathew said, standing and looking toward the mountain.


    He could see Aether through the cracks in the rock while a massive section rose from the peak. The clouds above the mountain were a completely different colour than any he had seen before, a deep indigo that swirled around it like a whirlpool.


    Mathew could feel the power there, a force unlike anything in any of the Floors he had been on before. He knew that if he had even a fraction of the Aether in that mountain, he would explode with energy.


    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Mathew asked, turning away from the mountain and looking down at his companion. Rehn had regained some of her colour, although she still seemed drained.


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    ¡°Better. Help me up, I can walk, and we should go to the crash site. If there are survivors, that is where they will gather.¡± Rehn advised, and Mathew couldn¡¯t argue with the logic. Helping her to her feet, they made their way slowly across this new world''s arid, hostile surface.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°That¡¯s not good.¡± Mathew commented as the pair watched the World Tree burn from where they stood on a rise overlooking the crash. The ship was located in a large crater. The remnants of its hull littered the ground around them.


    The World Tree was a blackened husk, charred and shattered into pieces. What little Aether that remained inside of its trunk was fading, and the crimson light dimmed with each second they watched.


    ¡°Is it dead?¡± Mathew asked Rehn. The Psion was frowning as she stared at the remains of the World Tree.


    ¡°No. I¡­something isn¡¯t right. I should be feeling something; even if it''s faint, I should be connecting with its thoughts. But¡­¡± Rehn trailed off, but Mathew didn¡¯t push her for an explanation. She was the expert when it came to communicating with a tree, and there was nothing he could do but wait.


    There were a few other Players in the distance, some sitting on the rim of the crater or clustered in groups and watching the ship burn. Everyone had an air of aimlessness and loss about them. They lacked a leader or a purpose, and it showed in how they acted.


    Mathew had seen it on the Seventh Floor before Samuel took charge.


    ¡°There!¡± Rehn said suddenly, spinning around and pointing at the mountain. She had an excited look on her face.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Mathew asked. He didn¡¯t see anything aside from the barren landscape and the unchanging mountain of Aether.


    Without warning, the ground shook violently, and a pillar of dirt and debris exploded out from the side of the mountain. A crimson root emerged from the earth and wrapped its way around the exposed Aether. More explosions occurred, and additional roots engulfed the crystallized Aether.


    ¡°The World Tree is still alive!¡± Rehn whispered, staring in awe as the massive plant quickly grew skyward.


    In minutes, the Tree was as large and healthy as it had been aboard the Stalwart Wayfarer. Its broad trunk began to absorb the Aether, and its purple leaves spread wide and touched the indigo clouds above.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    A notification rang out, and Mathew checked his silver wristband.


    Congratulations, Objective Completed!


    You have safely delivered the World Tree to its destination, where it will slowly grow to close the Singularity, sealing the Anti-Life away and preventing it from infecting any other realities.


    Completion Bonus: You have been awarded 500,000 Aether.


    New Objective: Survive


    The World Tree will require (175,200 Hours) to successfully absorb the ambient Aether and seal the Singularity. Protect it against the Anti-Life until the process is complete.


    Reinforcements will arrive every (24 hours) from the Tower of Avarice.


    Good Luck.


    ¡°I¡¯m normally not great at math, but 175,200 hours is quite a long time, isn¡¯t it?¡± Mathew asked Rehn. The Psion was lowering her own wristband, and her face showed hints of distress.


    ¡°Two decades.¡± Rehn said, and Mathew winced.


    ¡°Two decades in hell, against whatever the Anti-Life throws at us.¡± Mathew let out a deep sigh.


    ¡°At least we got a bonus. I can buy a few potions now.¡± He would be saving the bulk of it until he saw what the Anti-life were capable of. If he needed new Blessings and equipment, he wanted to know what he was fighting first before spending any Aether.


    ¡°We need to hurry. The Anti-Life will have seen the Stalwart Wayfarer fall, and the World Tree¡¯s growth is a threat they won¡¯t ignore. I¡¯m surprised it hasn¡¯t already attacked us.¡± Rehn advised.


    ¡°Maybe we actually caught a break for once. I mean, the ship crashing and a giant tree growing out of a mountain is enough for one day. Maybe we should take this as a sign to rest and prepare. Do they have a saying on your world about not looking a gift horse in the mouth?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°No, but we have a similar¡­wait, something is happening. Look!¡± Rehn said, drawing Mathew¡¯s attention to the far side of the crater where there was a commotion amongst a large group of Players.


    They were so far away that Mathew couldn¡¯t tell what exactly was happening, but some groups were splitting away from others and running.


    ¡°The Anti-Life is here.¡± Mathew said.


    ¡°How can you be so sure?¡± Rehn asked, and Mathew let out a weary sigh as he looked for a defensive position for them to use.


    ¡°Because why else would they be running away? Aside from us and them, there isn¡¯t anything else on this world.¡± Mathew said. He focused on a large root that looked like a good chokepoint.


    ¡°There! We¡¯ll shelter under that overhang and hopefully have a good view of what¡¯s happening. If everyone else is smart, they¡¯ll follow us up the mountain unless they want to be picked off one by one.¡± Mathew said, already walking forward.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be much use in a fight, Mathew. That shield took a lot out of me.¡± Rehn admitted.


    ¡°You did your part. Leave what happens next to me.¡± Mathew assured her.

 Chapter 121 – Floor 11: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 121</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 5


    Rehn experienced an overwhelming feeling of fear as the first of the Anti-Life creatures crested the horizon.


    Mathew and she were sheltered under a massive overhanging root from the still-growing World Tree. The remnants of the Players from the Stalwart Wayfarer were still retreating from the wreckage of the ship, or coming to the mountain in dribs and drabs from wherever they had landed in the crash.


    From their vantage point, Rehn could see hundreds of thousands of creatures approaching. Disgusting, misshapen and wrong, they were perversions of life. Worse, she could faintly sense their thoughts, more of an echo than an actual connection between them.


    She had expected the anti-life to be filled with anger and rage, along with a will to devour everything in their path. Instead, they were cold and passionless. She shivered in fear and cut the connection, blocking the Anti-Life out of her mind and she refused to ever touch them again.


    On the human side, Rehn estimated that less than half of the millions who had been on board the Stalwart Wayfarer were on the mountain. Normally, with the numbers in their favour, Rehn would be confident of the Player''s chances in the coming battle.


    But, they were leaderless and divided, clumped together into separate silos and groups. The Anti-Life would keep coming, while the humans would need to survive for 48 hours until reinforcements.


    ¡°We¡¯re not going to make it.¡± Rehn whispered, her hands tightening against a rocky outcrop that shielded her from the scorching hot wind of this hostile world. She was exhausted and parched, and the hopelessness she felt was sweeping over her like a tide, downing her in the depths of despair.


    ¡°We¡¯ll make it.¡± Mathew said confidently. He was busy buying potions, elixirs from the store, and a belt to hold them. Mathew spent all of the bonus Aether he had just received on potions in red, green and blue.


    He had wanted to save some Aether for Blessings or equipment but decided to hold nothing back after seeing the horde approaching.


    ¡°Have you seen how many there are out there!? There¡¯s nothing between them and us but a few rocks and a tree root! We should make for the peak and hope that we can avoid them until reinforcements arrive.¡± Rehn suggested.


    ¡°Retreat, and we¡¯ll die. Same as if we try to hide on the peak and hope someone comes to bail us out of this mess. We need to stand our ground and believe that once the other Players see us holding, they¡¯ll do the same.¡± Mathew said as he placed more potions in his belt and pockets.


    ¡°How do you know that? It isn¡¯t as if you¡¯ve faced anything like this before!¡± Rehn argued, and Mathew paused what he was doing to look at her. His expression was ice cold and as hard as the rock beneath their feet.


    ¡°I have, on the Seventh Floor. But at least here, we have the numbers to make a difference and defensible terrain to put our backs against. Try fighting on a field of ash against Fiends that outnumber you three to one, and you¡¯ll see that this situation isn¡¯t that bad.¡± Mathew stated before turning back to his placement of potions.


    ¡°Small mercy that we won¡¯t have to worry about people turning against us.¡± Mathew muttered softly, thinking of Samuel and the others who had joined the enemy. He made a last adjustment to his belt, tightening it slightly and tucking it under his jacket so that it had some cushioning.


    ¡°Look, just stay there and watch my back. But don¡¯t get too close to me; I want to have room to move.¡± Mathew ordered, walking away from the tree root and rock overhang that sheltered Rehn. Mathew took his position in the center of the small path, between two large boulders of obsidian that the World Tree¡¯s growth had dislodged.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s keep it small and efficient. I¡¯m going to need to hold the change for awhile.¡± Mathew whispered to himself, focusing on his hands first.


    ¡°Alter Self.¡±


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    His hands began to shift, darkening in colour until they were grey and covered in a layer of protective scales. His fingers lengthened, and his nails grew longer.  Mathew added a ridge of hardened bone across his knuckles to finish the transformation.


    From where Rehn stood, she felt a trickle of mana from Mathew as the Blessing took effect.


    Letting out a deep breath, Mathew assessed his handiwork and nodded. He could hold the transformation for hours, but he couldn¡¯t help feeling a pang of regret at this new Discipline. He preferred fighting at a distance, using the terrain and setting up traps to thin enemy numbers before hurling weapons with ¡®Catapult.¡¯


    But Alter Self and Earthbind were the only two Blessings he had now, and both relied on him getting close to his opponent. Mathew noted that if he survived the next few hours, he would purchase some better Blessings from the Shop.


    Mathew was interrupted from his thoughts about the future by a terrible roar that split the air. He felt the ground shake and rumble, and he knew that the Anti-Life creatures were near. He could feel them through the ¡®Buzz,¡¯ like an irritating headache that was quickly becoming a blinding migraine.


    From where he stood, the path below twisted slightly as it climbed the mountain, allowing him a moment to see his foe as they slowed to follow it.


    The first Anti-Life creature leapt over a rock and skidded to a stop as it noticed Mathew.


    Six-legged, with grey, slim-covered skin, it was all teeth, claws and eyes. Mathew could smell it even from dozens of feet away, a mixture of Aether spice and rot. It looked wrong, like something created as a caricature of a spider mixed with a boar, but the pieces didn¡¯t fit.


    It stood on six legs that lacked muscle, being nothing but skin and bone that ended in claws. Its torso was a mass of fat, flesh and long bristles. Its head had three eyes, a large one in the middle and two smaller ones on the sides that swivelled to look behind and to the sides. It reminded Mathew of a fish or shark, with its mouth having three layers of razer shark teeth.


    The monster let out a roar and charged, its clawed feet digging deeply into the hard rock to propel it forward. With its approach, the stench grew stronger, and Mathew nearly gagged at the smell. In the back of his mind, the ¡®Buzz¡¯ was warning him of the danger.


    Rehn was terrified as the monster pounced on Mathew, and her vision was obscured by dust.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°You¡¯ve never been in a fight before entering the Tower? How is that even possible?¡± Samuel asked in surprise, turning away from the sheet of fabric that he was helping to stretch over a gap between two large pieces of debris. He was helping Mathew with his shelter in preparation for a major storm that was coming.


    It happened a few times on the Seventh Floor since they had arrived at the ruins of this city, along with a large group of other Players. There were talks about forming a ¡®Council,¡¯ but Mathew was not interested in it. He was fine with simply surviving; he didn¡¯t want to lead anyone.


    Mathew tied the rope with a knot, then did another for good measure before responding.


    ¡°I¡¯m a lawyer who went to Harvard, and I live on the Upper West Side. I wasn¡¯t raised to get into brawls on the street. We would have family debates, not fist fights.¡± Mathew replied irritably. He had never thought that learning to be a lawyer was a waste of time until he entered the Tower. Instead, he should have been learning to wrestle or box.


    In its place, he joined the rowing team. A useful skill for the Seventh Floor that had no water.


    ¡°Huh, I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re still alive. Goblins, Undead and now these Fiends. Maybe you should try to debate them next time we¡¯re ambushed.¡± Samuel joked, something that was rare for the man. He must have been in a good mood, which was becoming scarce on the Seventh Floor.


    ¡°Ha ha ha, very funny.¡± Mathew replied dryly.


    ¡°Look, it¡¯s not hard. I can show you a thing or two. I fought in the war, you know.¡± Samuel said proudly.


    ¡°The Great War, Grandpa?¡± Mathew responded, and Samuel tilted back his head and laughed.


    ¡°No, the second one. Signed up in 1950 when I was 16, and the Japanese held half of California.¡± Samuel said, and Mathew paused.


    ¡°Wait, what? That¡¯s not right¡­¡±Mathew muttered, remembering his history. He had thought that Samuel had come from his Earth, but clearly, there were some differences.


    ¡°Anyway, you¡¯ve been doing alright with the Fiends, but you need to be quicker. Stand here, and I¡¯ll show you.¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    As the Anti-Life monster charged toward him, Mathew was reminded of the few lessons he had during downtime on the Seventh Floor with Samuel before things went sideways and he had been forced to kill his friend.


    It was hard to think about, especially knowing that some of the things that Samuel had taught him had been used to defeat the Apostle.


    ¡°Hit them from a distance, but if you don¡¯t have a choice, then take them off guard.¡± Mathew whispered as he judged the gap between him and his foe. Bending his knees, he waited as the creature leapt toward him, its open mouth wide and ready to bite his head off.


    With as small movement as possible, Mathew twisted and let the monster pass him while lashing out with his Altered Claw-like hands. With blinding speed, he stabbed through the monster''s torso, spilling blood that stank of Aether onto the ground.


    The monster took a few steps forward, its torso a mangled mess before it collapsed onto the ground and disappeared into a haze of blue Aether that lingered for a moment and then was swept away by the wind.


    ¡°That¡¯s one.¡± Mathew counted, looking toward the next of the charging creatures.

 Chapter 122 – Floor 11: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 122</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 6


    Rehn hadn¡¯t been immersed in violence much during her time in the Tower of Avarice.


    Her first Floor had involved solving a murder for a local government, something she found simple since the minds of everyone involved were wide open to her. From there, each Floor became more complicated, but she had rarely been forced to fight.


    She had killed and had almost been killed; no one in the Tower of Avarice could avoid conflict entirely, but those situations always felt like a step in accomplishing her objective. A criminal trying to silence her before they could be identified, a monster guarding a treasure that she had been tasked to find or a battle for her group of Players after they had finally reached the bottom of an unexplored ruins.


    But what she saw on the 11<sup>th</sup> Floor was unlike anything she had experienced before. It wasn¡¯t just a fight against a monster or a battle against evenly matched opponents.


    Mathew was slaughtering his foes with ruthless efficiency.


    Each movement was carefully calculated to use as little energy as possible while maintaining devastating results. He was a blur of motion; he never stopped moving, and he left nothing but the dead in his wake.


    Rehn couldn¡¯t take her eyes off him, not for the display of violence but because of how out of character it was for someone like Mathew to be capable of it. She had only known him for a short time, but the Mathew she knew was kind and calm, quiet and thoughtful.


    The man she saw today was a monster.


    Mathew gripped the Anti-Life creature by its front legs and threw it violently at another approaching monster. When they collided, Mathew could hear bones break and crunch. Not slowing, he leapt forward and put the incapacitated monsters out of their misery.


    ¡°Earthbind!¡±


    Strands of yellow energy rose from the ground in front of Mathew, tendrils of mana that shot out, ensnared three of the nearest Anti-Life creatures and bound them tightly. They struggled and tried to free themselves, but the harder they fought, the tighter they were constrained.


    Mathew didn¡¯t hesitate to finish them off using hands altered by magic until they were nothing like a human. Releasing the Blessing, he continued to fight, and the bodies piled up around him until the ground was soaked with blood that reeked of Aether.


    He was getting stronger. The more he used the ¡®Alter Self¡¯ Blessing, the better he became at controlling it. Mathew could push himself further into the inhuman, making his skin durable by covering it with scales until he could shrug off some of the grasping claws and biting teeth of the Anti-Life.


    Mathew¡¯s muscles bulged, and spikes emerged from his elbows as his arms lengthened. His clawed hands were razor sharp and strong enough to cut steel. But, no matter how strong he became, the Anti-Life threatened to overwhelm him with their numbers.


    Despite the changes, Mathew wasn¡¯t invincible.


    In the few short minutes he had been fighting, he had already been accumulating injuries. Scrapes and bruises could be ignored, but the Anti-Life was vicious and almost feral in their tactics. He had a wound across his chest and back, while one of the creatures had managed to bite him on the shoulder to leave a bloody hollow.


    To compensate, Mathew began to shift even further into his monstrous ¡®Alter Self.¡¯ But with each additional change, his mana reserves would deplete even as he became nearly unstoppable on the battlefield.


    Flinging the dead body of one of the larger Anti-Life monsters, Mathew used the brief respite to pull out another set of potions from his belt and down them. The green Stamina potion gave him a surge of new energy, while the blue mana potion began its steady work to refill his reserves, and the red healing potion stemmed the bleeding before binding his flesh slowly.


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    The corpse of the Anti-Life monster disappeared in a flash of blue light, and Mathew prepared himself for the next wave to come around the corner. He didn¡¯t have to wait long.


    ¡°Earthbind!¡± Mathew shouted, ensnaring a few more of the monsters before cutting through them with his altered claws. As he stabbed through the third, a much larger-than-average Anti-Life leapt from over the rise and landed on top of Mathew.


    Turning, Mathew had a vision of massive yellowish eyes and glistening white teeth before he was buried beneath the monster¡¯s weight.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Rehn was shocked out of her inaction and fugue of exhaustion by the large Anti-Life monster that crashed onto the ground in front of Mathew. It was triple the size of any of the others around it and, unlike the typical Anti-Life creature, had large, leathery wings protruding from its back. Elongated horns projected from its head, and it had only one large eye at the center of its head.


    The winged Anti-Life bit down on Mathew¡¯s body and began to swing him back and forth violently. With each movement, it kicked up dust and debris. Mathew screamed in pain, both from the vicious attack and the sharp obsidian rock that was slicing into his back and legs, piercing his scaled skin.


    Before she knew what she was doing, Rehn was racing across the dusty incline toward Mathew. Drawing on her remaining mana, she pushed through her fatigue to summon her Psionic abilities.


    ¡°Psychic Lance!¡±


    Rehn placed her fingertips on both sides of her forehead as a blinding white light shone from her brow like starlight. She could feel the mana inside her coalesce in front of her eyes, the last dregs combined with the scant amount she had regained after forming the protective shield earlier.


    Calling out the name of the Blessing, the white light lanced forward like a shooting star and burned through the body of the winged Anti-Life. The creature seemed unaware of what happened at first as nothing remained of its shoulder and half its chest but a burning hole nearly a foot in diameter.


    It wasn¡¯t until Rehn lowered her hands and collapsed onto her knees that the monster dropped Mathew and turned toward her. She watched as the grievous injury healed in front of her eyes. First, tendrils of flesh began to stretch across the wound, binding and growing.


    As it healed, the creature readied itself to pounce on the defenceless Rehn. If she were in peak condition, she knew she could form a shield to protect herself or use another attack to destroy the Anti-Life. But she had used all of her reserves.


    ¡°Mathew!¡± Rehn called out in fear as the monster¡¯s single, hideous eye focused on her. It leapt into the air, a single flap of its leathery wings taking it over the distance between them. She could feel its fetid breath on her skin, smell the rot and Aether spice.


    Raising her hands, she shielded her face futilely as the creature fell toward her. There was a tremendous crash, followed by silence. Rehn slowly lowered her hand and opened her eyes.


    Mathew stood in front of her, the Anti-Life beast held at bay by his clawed hands. He had changed even further, and Rehn felt a tremor of fear at the sight of the monster her friend had become.


    Mathew had grown taller and more muscular, and his skin had darkened to a greyish-blue like a stormy sky. He towered over her, seven feet tall or even higher, and his boots left deep furrows in the rocky ground as he gripped the Anti-Life.


    With a roar, Mathew dug his clawed fingers into the creature''s chest and pulled. There was a tearing sound, and Mathew¡¯s face showed a hint of strain as he ripped the monster apart in a shower of gore and blood that coated his shredded clothing and skin.


    Tossing the two halves aside, Mathew turned to look at Rehn, and she had her first look at his face.


    It was demonic, with red eyes and small horns beginning to emerge from his forehead. Mathew had developed fangs that poked out from beneath his lips and twisted into a scowl.


    ¡°Get back!¡± Mathew said, satisfied that she was unhurt. Reh could do nothing but blink at him slowly in response, stunned by what he had become.


    ¡°What¡­what are you!?¡± Rehn sputtered in reply, barely able to form a rational thought. Her friend was as monstrous as the Anti-Life he fought!


    ¡°I¡¯m what I need to be in order to survive.¡± Mathew muttered as he turned away from her.


    In a burst of strength, he leapt toward the remaining Anti-Life, sending a spray of dust and dirt behind him with a defeating bang. Landing amidst the creatures, Mathew tore through them like a wild animal.


    Rehn climbed to her feet and stumbled back to her shelter as the roar of combat continued behind her. Making it safely back to the protection of the overhang, Rehn buried her face in her hands in relief and then shame.


    She had thought that she was strong, that she was a survivor. She was the Princess of Ama, a person that an entire nation had put their hopes in. She had entered the Tower of Avarice confident that she could face whatever it could throw at her and endure.


    But, after seeing the lengths Mathew was willing to go to live and the sacrifices he was willing to make for the power to protect himself and those around him, Rehn knew she couldn¡¯t compare. Not for the last time, she thought about what a person like Mathew had been through in order to survive.


    Could she ever do the same?

 Chapter 123 – Floor 11: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 123</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 7


    The last of the Anti-Life creatures fell to the ground, lifeless and unmoving. Mathew released the ¡®Alter Self¡¯ Blessing with a sigh of relief. The scales that protected his flesh smoothed, and his skin returned to its normal colour.


    He was empty, bereft of mana. A burning sensation in his stomach told of the potions still trying to work their magic to restore his reserves, but the effect was weak after hours of fighting. Mathew stumbled and nearly fell, but a steadying hand on a rock beside him kept him outright.


    The silence was unsettling after the cacophony of combat. He could hear distant shouts from several of the still fighting humans, but the ¡®Buzz¡¯ informed him that the threat was over. They had won.


    Mathew didn¡¯t know when it happened; his focus wasn¡¯t great, and the haze of exhaustion made his eyes blurry and his reactions slow. However, Rehn was once again beside him. The young woman was covered in scratches and other minor wounds. Mathew hadn¡¯t known she had been fighting, but things had been murky at the end of the battle.


    ¡°You¡¯re hurt.¡± Rehn said, coming up behind him and taking a length of cloth from her inventory to place on a wound at his side. The white cloth was soaked through with blood almost immediately, and Mathew gently stopped her before she tried another.


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother. I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Mathew replied. Slowly raising his wristband which felt heavier than he remembered, Mathew opened up his status screen to check his Aether and the amount needed to level his new Discipline.


    His eyes widened in shock at the numbers.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Rehn asked curiously.


    ¡°This place is heaven and hell.¡± Mathew whispered. He hadn¡¯t known someone could hold that much Aether at once. The number was astounding, but when he compared it to the amount needed to level ¡®Arcane Alterist,¡¯ his earnings seemed much less astonishing.


    He had made more Aether in a few hours of killing Anti-Life than he had in all the previous floors combined. But his Discipline wasn¡¯t cheap. A single level required nearly half of his earnings.


    To heal his wounds and drive away the exhaustion? It was worth it.


    ¡°Level up!¡± Mathew commanded the screen, and the number beside his name went from ¡®40¡¯ to ¡®41¡¯ while the accumulated Aether plummeted.


    A refreshing healing energy swept across Mathew in a wave. The Aether-driven Level-Up started from his stomach, gathering into what Mathew imagined was a ball of blue light before it dispersed through his torso and limbs.


    As his body stat rose, Mathew felt a sudden tightness in his muscles and tendons; his skin felt tingly, and a heat built up in his limbs. When it finally released, he felt stronger and faster.


    While the Aether energy covered his body and enhanced his physical capability, it also revitalized his wounds. The accumulated exhaustion, bone-deep tiredness that came from expending all of his mana and stamina, was burned away in the wake of the Aether energy.


    But the physical changes of the Level-Up weren¡¯t the only thing that shifted from the spent Aether.


    The energy crept up his neck and gathered in a single point at his glabella, directly between his two eyes. Like a pinprick, Mathew felt a sudden sharp stab before the energy raced backwards like a tide. He could feel his mind-expanding, his thoughts flowed quicker, and he had sudden insights into the workings of his Blessings and Discipline.


    Mathew felt another change in his body to join the physical and mental adjustments. Each Player felt a connection to something in the Tower of Avarice.


    Every Floor, regardless of its size and shape, had the presence of the gods within it. Sometimes, if Mathew concentrated hard enough and blocked the sights and sounds around him, he could feel that connection as a line, or a thread, stretching from him to a place beyond their reality.


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    The Spirit stat defined this thread, and although Mathew generally ignored Disciplines that increased the strength of this connection, ¡®Arcane Alterist¡¯ hadn¡¯t given him a choice. During the Level-Up, Mathew could see that the hazy line had become slightly more solid.


    The connection between him and the gods of the Tower of Avarice was growing stronger, and with it, Blessings and Disciplines that relied on their power functioned more efficiently.


    There was also another side effect that Mathew hadn¡¯t known earlier, which was that the Spirit stat affected the Shop. Prices would lower, and the Blessings available would be more varied and powerful as the connection to gods expanded.


    Mathew let out a huff of hot, turbid air from his lungs. The level-up left him feeling more alive and healthy than ever. It was easy to understand why so many Players were addicted to the feeling, chasing that high like a drug while ignoring everything else.


    Turning to Rehn, Mathew observed her physical state before speaking.


    ¡°You should level as well if you have the Aether. I¡¯ll keep watch.¡± Mathew said, and the Psion nodded while opening up her own status screen. Even though she hadn¡¯t participated in the fighting to the same degree as Mathew, she had still been part of it and had made significant earnings.


    While the Aether energy worked its magic on Rehn, Mathew kept one eye on the surroundings while browsing the shop for Blessings. Earthbind was a powerful Blessing that could halt movement and control a small area of the battlefield, and the advantages of ¡®Alter Self¡¯ were apparent, but Mathew needed more Blessings if he was going to survive this Floor.


    The Anti-Life wouldn¡¯t stop assaulting the World Tree, and if Mathew and the others were going to survive two decades against them, he needed to become as strong as possible. Since he couldn¡¯t afford another Level, Mathew chose to invest first in a new Blessing before looking at the equipment offered.


    There were two that caught his eye and were in his price range.


    <u>Breath of Dragons</u>


    Eons ago, the god of Tempestuous Scrutiny travelled to a world of Dragons. Multi-coloured creatures of near Diety-like power, the god was humbled by their abilities and chose to study them. After many years, the god of Tempestuous Scrutiny developed a technique to mimic the Dragon¡¯s fabled breath.


    This Blessing will allow you to release a breath of fire, cold, acid, lightning or poison. Your body and Spirit attributes determine the range and potency of the breath.


    <u>Alter Self- Enhanced Bones</u>


    Your bones can now be crafted and changed as the user desires, limited by your mind and body attributes. Enhanced durability, weight, and structure; change them as you desire. Become as solid and heavy as a mountain or as light and airy as a cloud.


    The ¡®Breath of Dragons¡¯ Blessing appealed to Mathew as an offensive ability that he could use against groups of enemies at range. Plus, rather than just fire, he could adapt the breath to different situations. It was an immediate purchase that only cost Mathew half of his remaining Aether.


    The addition of bones to ¡®Alter Self¡¯ was also very appealing since, during his fight against the Anti-Life, Mathew saw the limits of his alterations. Claws and stronger muscles were all well and good, but there were times when he pushed himself against the Anti-Life that his leg and arms creaked and cracked under the pressure.


    To make matters worse, potions healed everything at the same time without focusing on a single injury. His experience had been that broken bones took the longest to heal. A broken arm or leg could incapacitate him. Making his bones more durable was an obvious benefit, but the weight function caught his eye the most.


    Heavier bones meant his blows would be stronger, while making them lighter would increase his speed. If he were skilled enough, Mathew thought he could switch between them quickly, lightening his body as he leapt into the air, ran or climbed before increasing the weight to devastating effect.


    After his two purchases, Mathew was left with only a few scraps of Aether that he used to purchase new clothing. A mundane but functional black jacket of coarse material and a pair of jeans. He would buy some magical items as soon as possible since fighting the Anti-Life would shred the strongest non-magical clothing.


    When he was done, Rehn had completed her levelling and looked healthier than ever. Her pale skin looked lively, and the dark bags under her eyes were gone.


    ¡°Better?¡± Mathew asked, already knowing the answer. Rehn gave him a small smile and nodded.


    ¡°Much. What should we do now?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s see if anyone else needs help; then we can gather with the others. I can¡¯t see this lull lasting long, not if the mountain is important to the Anti-Life. We should take this time to regroup and prepare.¡± Mathew advised, and Rehn agreed.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be like herding cats. We¡¯re going to need someone to lead.¡± Rehn stated, giving Mathew a pointed look, to which he immediately shook his head negatively.


    ¡°Not interested! Besides, I think you¡¯re better suited for it. You lead, and I¡¯ll follow.¡± Mathew said, and Rehn gave a small snort before shaking her head in exasperation and leading the way forward.

 Chapter 124 – Floor 11: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 124</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 8


    Mathew sat in the dirt and watched as the dead Anti-Life creatures faded away into blue Aether and flecks of multicoloured light. The bodies never stayed for long, especially since the World Tree had grown larger. It seemed that no sooner did they fall that they were disappearing, keeping the battlefield free from clutter.


    He suspected that the World Tree was ¡®harvesting¡¯ the Anti-Life to fuel its growth, although why it would need the small amount of Aether the Anti-Life contained when it had an entire mountain of Crystalized Aether to feed on was beyond Mathew¡¯s understanding.


    Its roots had dug deep underground, wrapping tightly around the Aether crystals. Mathew had seen it himself, the brightly glowing blue Aether fading with time as the tree absorbed the energy within, dispersing it throughout its trunk.


    The dead Players also faded from sight, and whatever equipment they had on them returned to the ¡®Shop¡¯ for others to purchase at a discount. The gods were making a fortune on Aether on this Floor, double-dipping from the Players buying items and then confiscating them on their death only to resell them again.


    But none of the Players complained, the Aether they were gathering on this floor was astounding. Each kill would net them incredible amounts of Aether to purchase Blessings, Discipline or equipment.


    The Tower was aptly named. ¡®Avarice¡¯ ran deeply through everything they did here.


    Mathew scoffed quietly at the thought. The gods of the Tower of Avarice may have ¡®Divine¡¯ powers, but they certainly weren¡¯t much different than the mortals they ruled over. Each of them had their eccentricities, quirks and preferences. Navigating through the Floors of the Tower required a Player to adapt to the gods as much as any of the other challenges.


    He swept his hand through the dry, reddish dirt of the ground beside him. Disturbing the top layer, Mathew revealed a small sprout of a plant. Green with blue veins, the small sprout tenaciously clung to life in the soil of this hostile world. The wind shook its tiny, budding leaves, and Mathew could smell Aether''s spice in the wind.


    The world around them had begun to change in the two days they had been fighting. The temperatures had previously dipped and shifted from extremes and had become more like Earth. It was cold in the morning, well below freezing, and hot in the evening, but it no longer required Mathew to circulate the mana within him just to stay alive.


    The World Tree was bringing life to its surroundings as it grew.


    Mathew buried the little sprout once more before dusting off his hands and looking at the sky above him. The ground and environment weren¡¯t the only thing that transformed as time passed.


    The alien indigo sky, with its swirling clouds that reflected the burning red flames of the ground beneath them, was gone. In its place were the World Tree¡¯s branches, a canopy of leaves that obscured the heavens above.


    Miles high and so broad that its edges touched the horizon, Mathew marvelled at how such a thing could exist. It boggled the mind; its size was astounding, and everything logical in his mind screamed at him that it should topple.


    But the tree stayed in place and even grew larger with each passing breath. It exuded a haze of power as it absorbed the ambient Aether in the air. The wind shook its innumerable leaves, each of them bigger than Mathew, and he saw how its branches seemed to be reaching ever closer to the Singularity in the sky.


    It was still faintly visible through the haze of clouds and the gaps in the tree. A black void that twisted the edges of Mathew¡¯s vision, a gaping hole in reality that led to another universe. Once the World Tree reached it, the Singularity would seal, and their objective would be complete.


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    Two decades. Mathew had only been here for two days and had already seen more than enough combat. He couldn¡¯t think about spending another twenty years here without feeling crushed by a mix of despair and anxiety.


    Better to push those thoughts aside and focus on the now. Taking a deep breath, Mathew tasted the spice of Aether on his tongue and in his nostrils. It was everywhere, tainting everything. Letting out his breath, he opened his eyes and turned his attention back to the area in front of him.


    The bodies were all gone now, leaving the scars of battle on the ground. Great rents in the soil, cracks on the rock and a few pools of blood that hadn¡¯t faded yet. He didn¡¯t know how many Anti-Life he had killed here, dozens perhaps? But he hadn¡¯t been alone. There had been other Players with him, but he couldn¡¯t see any trace of them now.


    Mathew supposed he was the only one to survive this engagement. Another time where he was the only one left.


    The Enduring.


    He was starting to hate that title.


    Mathew¡¯s attention was drawn to a young man slowly making his way up the dirt path below. It was hard to judge someone¡¯s age in the Tower of Avarice, everyone regained their lost youth eventually by upgrading their ¡®Body¡¯ stat.


    Even Mathew himself had grown younger; the scant wrinkles around his eyes and the signs of stress he had gained at work had been wiped away through his levelling. To outsiders, Mathew looked to be in his early twenties, although he knew he was closer to fifty years instead of twenty. Time worked differently in the Tower, making it hard to keep track of birthdays.


    The young man wore armour; the telltale glow and shimmer around him identified the high-level magical equipment. Made of leather and steel, it was form-fitting and light, allowing ease of movement.


    The only interesting thing that Mathew made note of was the long-barreled rifle slung over his shoulder. A mix of futuristic technology and magic, it had glowing lines of power along its length, and instead of an ammo magazine, Crystallized Aether protruded from the bottom.


    A weapon like that wasn¡¯t cheap, and Mathew estimated that the cost was well beyond all of the young man¡¯s other equipment put together.


    Overall, his appearance was unremarkable, and Mathew didn¡¯t recognize him.


    It wasn¡¯t a surprise; Mathew didn¡¯t know very many of the other Players on this Floor. Nor did he make much of an effort to make friends. Most of the people he saw over the past few days were gone, their bodies taken away to wherever the gods disposed of them.


    The young man noticed Mathew and picked up his steps. Rather than getting up to meet him halfway, Mathew stayed sitting and watched his approach. When he was close enough, the young man stopped and looked around warily.


    ¡°Just you? Where is everyone else? I was told there should be dozens of people here.¡± The young man said. Mathew just shrugged in response, idly picking up a rock and flicking it down the path. The pebble bounced off a rock and landed in the dirt, sending up a puff of dust.


    ¡°They¡¯re gone. What do you want?¡± Mathew didn¡¯t elaborate further, and his attitude made the young man pause for a moment. He had been through the Tower, the same as Mathew, and no one who could make it this far was ordinary. It gave him a sixth sense for smelling trouble, and Mathew reeked of it to the young man.


    His eyes flicked around to the surroundings for a moment before locking back onto Mathew. His hand twitched as if he were about to reach for his weapon and thought better of it. Taking a breath, the young man continued.


    ¡°I have orders from the Princess. She wants you to return to camp.¡± The young man said, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°Fine, I¡¯m done here anyway.¡± Mathew said.


    Standing up slowly, Mathew wiped the dust and dirt from his clothing. His time on the Eleventh Floor had been profitable. Gone were the rags or mundane clothes he had arrived in. Mathew was clothed in armour similar to the young man, with enchantments for durability, protecting as well as a few spells to keep him cool in the heat and warm in the cold.


    Made of dark brown leather, which the Shop claimed was from a ¡®lesser Drake,¡¯ Mathew¡¯s armour had a steel chest piece and arm and leg protectors. He almost glowed with the enchantments'' power; best of all, the armour shifted and changed to accommodate his transformation.


    Adjusting his belt, Mathew made sure the magical knife was secure in its sheathe before following the young man. Although he preferred to fight at a distance or use his Blessings to change his body, Mathew saw the need for a weapon.


    Second hand, the knife had been at a steep discount because its previous owner was no longer alive. Durable and sharp, the blade could pierce the tough flesh of the Anti-Life.


    ¡°Lead the way.¡± Mathew said, gesturing for the young man to show him where Rehn was. The last time he had been there was a day ago before he had joined a group to protect their eastern flank. Even if it was just a day, the camp could change and move to adapt to the ever-growing World Tree that sheltered them.


    Easier to just have the young man show him where to go than ask directions and get lost on the way.

 Chapter 125 – Floor 11: Part 9

    <u>Chapter 125</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 9


    The camp was bustling with activity as Mathew returned. It had been over a day since he had last been here and already there were signs of it becoming a more permanent settlement. It was a good thing he had followed the young man back to the camp, since the trails Mathew had been familiar with had changed with the shifting of the World Tree¡¯s roots.


    Men and women walked the paths, all heavily armed and wearing magical items. Many of them carried crates or material gathered from the surroundings, and the entire camp gave Mathew a sense of progress and stability.


    Mathew didn¡¯t know a single person that he passed, although several seemed to be familiar with him. They nodded or greeted him briefly on their way. Word had spread that he was close to the Amadan Princess. The Psion had become famous in the camp since their arrival, her ability to communicate with the World Tree had been invaluable for predicting its movements and current status.


    Plus, the World Tree had the capability to sense the Anti-Life, giving Rehn advanced warning of any attacks. It was clear to see why she had a high status amongst the Players.


    Ignoring everyone, Mathew came to a large, red and black tent that had been erected in a higher section of the camp. It was a magical item that was far bigger on the inside than its outer appearance would suggest. It also protected those inside from the harsh elements, making it perfect for the Player¡¯s leadership to gather and plan their next actions.


    The young man lifted the flap for Mathew, choosing to stay outside now that his task was complete. Entering the tent, Mathew found Rehn alone, leaning over a table with a map of the surrounding area stretched out on its surface.


    Rehn had improved her equipment as well. Wearing long, flowing white robes that radiated mana, she had a long staff propped up against a chair beside her. Topped with a topaz the size of Mathew¡¯s clenched fist, he looked at it warily. Mathew could sense the weapon''s power even from where he stood.


    Rehn looked up from the map immediately, her face showing displeasure at the interruption, before seeing that it was Mathew. Her Psion abilities were stunted against other Players. She could read surface thoughts, and possibly more if someone were in close proximity to her. But her actions showed that she could still be taken by surprise.


    ¡°Finally. I was starting to worry that you were going to stay out there forever.¡± Rehn said, her tone tinged with relief. Standing upright, she stretched a kink from her back and gestured Mathew to come forward.


    Stepping forward, Mathew shrugged as he joined her at the table.


    ¡°I could have. It¡¯s a lot quieter out there.¡± Mathew replied, and Rehn gave him a considerate look.


    ¡°And much more dangerous. Where is the rest of your group?¡± Rehn asked.


    ¡°Fled or dead. I lost track of them.¡± Mathew responded, and Rehn¡¯s expression changed significantly at the words. Mathew had been tasked with guarding one of the side paths to the World Tree with several hundred other Players. It was supposed to be a relatively safe area, one that the Anti-Life hadn¡¯t assaulted before.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Rehn inquired. The World Tree hadn¡¯t said anything to her about it; her focus had been on the major events in the south where a large force of Anti-Life was gathering.


    ¡°The usual, we set up our defences and the Anti-Life smashed through them like they were nothing. I¡¯m not sure what happened after; I was too busy. Afterwards, I was alone.¡± Mathew explained indifferently.


    It was a story that was familiar to him. All too often, the fighting would take place around him, and when you are battling for your life against the Anti-Life, it was easy to lose track of things like time and allies.


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    ¡°Mathew, do you need a break? I can find something else for you to-¡± Rehn offered, only for Mathew to cut her off by shaking his head.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m fine. What did you want? It must be important if you sent someone for me.¡± Mathew questioned as he looked down at the map.


    The World Tree was surrounded by clusters of red dots that he knew represented the Anti-Life ¡®Nests,¡¯ clusters of the creatures where they emerged from beneath the ground and rushed toward them.


    Rehn was concerned about Mathew¡¯s attitude. She had only known him for a short time, but he had never been so apathetic. He seemed disinterested in everything, especially regarding his own safety and the lives of the Players around him.


    She had seen it before in the soldiers of Ama during the war with the Talrandians. The violence caused a shift in their mental attitudes, and they grew harsh and uncaring to everyone around them. Rehn let out a quiet sigh and chose to ignore it. There was nothing she could do about Mathew, not on this Floor where the Anti-Life were threatening to bury them all.


    ¡°Reinforcements should be arriving soon.¡± Rehn said, and Mathew looked up from the map.


    ¡°I¡¯m not having anything to do with them.¡± Mathew replied, and Rehn shook her head.


    ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to. The camp won¡¯t be able to hold more of our numbers, so we need to expand. The World Tree has offered its assistance. We¡¯re going to be creating a number of outer defences, walls, and buildings to house the Players in a ring expanding outwards from the Tree¡¯s center.¡± Rehn pointed at the map, drawing a line around the world tree.


    Mathew saw that someone had already marked them. If he was reading it correctly, the plan called for a massive wall to ring the Tree, with small towns spaced evenly to support the defences.


    ¡°That¡¯s quite the undertaking. I didn¡¯t know you have an army of Forgers ready and willing to build this.¡± Mathew commented, and Rehn flashed him a smile.


    ¡°The World Tree will be providing us with a workforce. Golems created from wood and rock that it will directly control. We just need to protect them while they get to work. I¡¯m overseeing the construction on the western side of the Tree, and I need someone I can trust to guard me while we work.¡± Rehn explained.


    ¡°I can do that.¡± Mathew paused, looking at the planned area for their expansion before drawing her attention to a red marker.


    ¡°There¡¯s a Nest here.¡± Mathew remarked, and Rehn nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯s why I want you with me. From what the World Tree told me, those Nests are connected to tunnels that stretch the length of the planet. Its roots have closed the ones nearest to us, but until the World Tree is stronger, we won¡¯t be able to seal these Nests. I want you on the defences and protecting the Golems until they have the foundation of the walls set.¡± Rehn ordered, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°Alright, when do we leave?¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The Anti-Life creature let out a howl as Mathew¡¯s fist crashed into its skull, cracking the bone and driving its head into the ground. Using his Blessing to enhance the density of his bones, he kicked it violently backward, where it skidded across the soil and lay still.


    Turning around, Mathew opened his mouth wide and drew in a deep breath. He could feel the mana swirling around in his chest. Starting as a tingling sensation, it quickly grew warmer until the mana felt like liquid fire in his lungs.


    ¡°Breath of Dragons!¡± Mathew shouted before spewing oily fire from his mouth at a cluster of four-legged Anti-Life creatures rapidly approaching him. The fire clung to their flesh, and the monster screamed and flailed as they burned.


    Revolving slowly, Mathew continued to discharge fire in an arc around him until his lungs were empty. Panting and gasping, he took a moment to recover.


    They were on the edge of a plateau that Rehn had designated for the town to be constructed. The Golems, humanoid figures that had emerged from the ground beneath the World Tree and connected to it by long rootlike tendrils that stretched behind them, had already constructed the buildings and walls using stones and dirt.


    Hundreds of the Golems were controlled directly by the World Tree and stood over 10 feet tall. But they were incredibly weak and vulnerable to the Anti-Life. Even with the Players standing on guard, they had lost several of them in the hour since they had arrived.


    The Anti-Life seemed determined to stop them, throwing themselves at the defending Players, with more arriving from the Nest in the distance, a glowing red fissure in the ground that spewed out monsters and reeked of Aether.


    Rehn stood behind Mathew, communicating with the World Tree and coordinating the efforts of the Players. It would be days before they had the initial defences constructed, and Mathew estimated that there would be heavy losses amongst the Players before they were done.


    But things were much improved compared to how things were at their main camp or when they first arrived on this planet.


    Finally catching his breath, Mathew cycled the mana within him. Pulling out his knife, he lightened his bones to make himself faster, scrambling across the ground with inhuman speed as he threw himself back into the fray.

 Chapter 126 – Floor 11: Part 10

    <u>Chapter 126</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 10


    The Golems worked tirelessly and efficiently, day and night, to construct a wall that reached high above the settlement. Made of black and grey rock, it was dozens of feet tall and thick enough to repel the Anti-Life¡¯s efforts to destroy it.


    While the Golems worked, the Players fought the monsters that were assailing them, pushing the Anti-Lie back to their nest. When the final stone was placed in their section of wall, the Players retreated to battlements, hurling magics and firing long-range weapons at the creatures below them.


    Mathew sat on the ground, his back to the cool stone of the wall as he recovered from the intense battle. He spent his time watching the mindless Golems work. Picking up large rocks, some would place them in a central area, while others used primitive tools to shape and mould the stone before more Golems would carefully deposit them on top of the marked foundations.


    In less than a week, the wall was finished, and half the town had been constructed. Mathew could only assume that the other settlements were on a similar schedule. Wincing in pain as a small movement pulled at a wound on his side, Mathew pulled out another elixir of healing and downed it in a single swallow.


    The fighting had been severe; the Anti-Life were more determined than he had ever seen them, likely due to the proximity of their nest. What made things more difficult was that the creatures seemed to evolve.


    They were larger than before, heavier and stronger. Several had mutated from having four legs into six, with sharper teeth and longer claws. Mathew had seen them spit acid, shoot spikes from their back, or even explode into piles of gore and bone shrapnel when they were about to expire.


    Mathew doubted the Players would have survived much longer if they hadn¡¯t had the wall to fall back on, but he wasn¡¯t sure how long they would have an advantage. Already, some of the Anti-Life had grown wings, assaulting the defending Players from above.


    It was turning into a never-ending cycle of violence.


    Ignoring his wounds, Mathew pulled up the shop. He had upgraded all of his equipment, and he was torn between gaining another level or purchasing another Blessing. With a rare break from the arriving reinforcements taking their turn on the battlements, Mathew took a moment to peruse his options.


    The offering of Blessings had significantly expanded, whether from the Aether he had available or his increased ¡®Spirit¡¯ stat, he wasn¡¯t sure.


    His current Blessings allowed him to shape and change his flesh, muscles and bones. He could also breathe fire, acid or lightning from ¡®Breath of Dragons.¡¯ What he needed was something long-range, a Blessing he could use on top of the wall that would keep him from the worst of the fighting. Earthbind could hold the enemy in place, but it relied on Mathew physically dispatching the Anti-Life.


    ¡°Blood Magic¡­.¡± Mathew whispered, noticing a list of new Blessings in the Shop that were now available to him. He had seen the effects of Blood Magic with his own eyes. The Blood Sorcerer he had faced had been able to use his own blood to create new limbs to attack from the ground or even create a swirling vortex of flames by igniting his blood.


    It was expensive, and each of the Blessings he saw came with major side effects. Nausea, dizziness and anemia were only the start. There was one that created a Blood Servant that could fight alongside him, taking the shape of a beast or Golem, but the requirements for blood were steep.


    Shaking his head, Mathew decided to keep browsing. He preferred to keep his blood on the inside unless absolutely necessary.


    Some Blessings could further ¡®Monsterize¡¯ his body, granting him additional limbs, a long, spiked tail, and even wings. But they also came with side effects. It seemed the further he pushed his transformation as a ¡®Arcane Alterist¡¯, the more he would risk losing his sanity.


    It also required him to practice with his new form; the Blessings warned that he may be uncoordinated for days, even weeks. With all the fighting he would be doing, Mathew didn¡¯t have the luxury of time to practice. It seemed he had pushed his transformations as far as possible for now.


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    There were dozens of Blessings that would affect weapons or other items. Mathew saw blessings that would enhance arrows with magical fire or give his blade the ability to sever any flesh, pierce iron, or even become nearly indestructible.


    But Mathew didn¡¯t see the need. He didn¡¯t use a bow and arrow, and his knife was magically enhanced already. It was an easy choice to disregard these Blessings.


    Just when he was about to give up looking for a new blessing, he came upon one that caught his interest.


    ¡°Enlarge.¡± Mathew muttered as he read the description.


    Enlarge ¨C Exclusive Blessing of the Arcane Alterist


    As a master of Transmutation and Transformation, size is no hindrance to your power. A pebble can become a boulder, and a branch can grow to the size of a mighty tree. The limits of this Blessing can be determined by your ¡®Mind¡¯ stat and the amount of mana you use to fuel the Transmutation.


    Note: It cannot be used on living objects.


    ¡°Of course it can¡¯t.¡± Mathew whispered, thinking of the terrible effects of causing an Anti-Life creature to become significantly larger, or a Player growing to three times their normal size.


    The Blessing was reasonably priced, costing only half of Mathew¡¯s accumulated Aether, so he purchased it in order to test its effects. He could feel the knowledge of the new Blessing entering his mind as if he were suddenly remembering something that he had forgotten.


    Picking up a small pebble from the ground beside him, Mathew weighed it in his hand as he assessed the area around him. There was a clear space for dozens of feet in front of him, with only the occasional Golem plodding slowly forward.


    The pebble was barely enough to fill Mathew¡¯s palm and had been worn smooth by the ever-present wind. Curious to test the effects of his Blessing, Mathew funnelled his mana into the stone and casually tossed it into the air in front of him.


    He could feel the Blessing take hold, and his mana plummeted by a third. The stone spun sluggishly in the air, and Mathew felt as if time began to slow as the stone began to creak and crack. Soon, as it reached the peak of its arc, the pebble expanded. Its size doubled, then doubled again until it became as large as Mathew¡¯s head.


    But it wasn¡¯t finished; by the time it landed on the ground with an impact that shook the earth and sent out a cloud of dust, the small pebble had become a boulder so large that it obscured Mathew¡¯s vision of the Golems beyond it.


    ¡°That¡­is pretty effective.¡± Mathew exclaimed with awe.


    The boulder vibrated, and a series of cracking sounds emerged from its surface as the mana Mathew fed into it evaporated, reducing the boulder back to its original size. In the center of the crater the boulder had made was a small, innocent-looking pebble.


    ¡°I wonder¡­¡± Mathew mused as he reopened the ¡®Shop.¡¯


    The performance of the Blessing was pretty good, but the mana requirements were steep. The larger you made an object compared to its original size, the more mana it would use and the shorter the duration of the Transmutation. But what if he used something a little larger?


    Going into the shop, Mathew flicked through the screens until he came to the Tiny Servants section. These were items that could be used to create small creatures or even Golems to serve the Player. There were hundreds of variations, and, even though it was marked ¡®Tiny Servant¡¯, some were quite large.


    This is the section where Mathew found his magical horse statue on one of the previous floors. A small statue that would use its own mana to enlarge and become a magical approximation of a real horse.


    ¡°Ahh, there it is.¡± Mathew exclaimed, finding what he was looking for. A Wyvern servant that could act as a mount was larger than a horse. Looking similar to a winged snake with two back legs, the Wyvern was a relatively useless mount for Players.


    It could fly, which was an advantage for sure, but it lacked the carrying ability of other flying mounts like a Hippogriff or Griffin. On top of that, the Wyvern was known to be much more unruly and aggressive compared to other mounts.


    ¡°It''s technically not alive since it is created using a magical statue. It shouldn¡¯t be a problem.¡± Mathew contemplated, hesitating on the purchase button. For only 200,000 Aether, it was one of the cheapest flying mounts available.


    Finally, after waffling back and forth, Mathew made the purchase.


    A tiny, stone statue of a Wyvern appeared where the screen had been, and Mathew snatched it out of the air where it was hovering. The statue was exquisitely detailed; each scale of the Wyvern¡¯s body was recreated, and Mathew had the impression that the Statue would come to life at any moment.


    Placing it down on the ground, Mathew spoke the command word.


    ¡°Awaken.¡±


    The statue came to life, growing larger in a moment as the Wyvern came awake. In seconds, a creature larger than a horse stood in front of him, tasting the air with its tongue and looking around curiously. Immediately, Mathew felt the summoned creature fight against his control. Like a knot in the back of his mind, the Wyvern¡¯s will contested Mathew¡¯s own.


    But Mathew was ready, and in moments, the Wyvern was docile.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s try this out. Enlarge!¡± Mathew used his Blessing and this time his mana depleted until only a few dregs were left. The Wyvern immediately began to enlarge, expanding in size until it was double its original mass.


    The creature towered over Mathew, and he couldn¡¯t help but be satisfied with the results. Curious about how it would perform, Mathew gave it an order.


    ¡°Go to the top of the wall and kill any of the Anti-Life you see. Return to me when your mana is about to be depleted.¡±

 Chapter 127 – Floor 11: Part 11

    <u>Chapter 127</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 11


    The appearance of the Wyvern sent the Players into a panic. The top of the wall was currently a battlefield, with Players fighting off waves of Anti-Life that were crawling up its surface in an attempt to reach them. Arrows flew everywhere, spears stabbed forward, and magics were unleashed.


    Into this chaotic mess, the Wyvern crashed down from the sky. Its large body slammed into the stone of the wall, sending a shockwave across its surface and releasing a blast of wind that pushed the Players back. Many thought it was a new form of Anti-Life sent to attack them, but when they felt the mana within, they knew it was a summon from a Player.


    The Wyvern lashed out with its wings and clawed back legs for nearly ten minutes. Whenever Anti-Life surrounded it, it would take to the skies and unleash its acid breath that melted the Anti-Life and left the top of the wall pitted and marked.


    When its mana finally ran out, it returned to Mathew, who was still sitting at the base of the wall, recovering his mana. The Wyvern size was reduced to normal, barely bigger than Mathew himself, and he had it revert to its statue form and replaced it back in his inventory while he assessed his gains.


    The Wyvern had made significant rewards, nearly earning Mathew back the cost of the Statue. Overall, he was pleased with the results and planned to use it more in the future. But for now, his recovery time was over, and it was his turn to join the others on the wall.


    Wearily climbing back to his feet, Mathew made the short trek to the ladder, where he was soon face to face with the Anti-Life once again.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew leaned over the edge of the chasm and looked into the depth of the Anti-Life ¡®Nest.¡¯ The ominous red glow that had been ever-present for the last few weeks had faded significantly, even occasionally flickering as if it would disappear.


    But it would always return, stubbornly maintaining the ¡®Nest¡¯, and the Anti-Life creatures within would continue to spawn.


    It had been two weeks since the town had been constructed and four weeks since the first reinforcements had arrived. In that small amount of time, there were now millions of Players on the planet, fighting and dying as they drove the Anti-Life back.


    During the fighting, Mathew gained more levels and reached Level 45. With his gains came more power and an increased connection to the ephemeral gods. The Shop had expanded, although he had yet to purchase any more items or Blessings.


    As the World Tree grew, it began to feed on the Anti-Life Nests, reducing their ability to create new creatures. But something was wrong. Initially, Rehn had said that the World Tree could close the rents in the ground and ensure that their base would be protected from the Nests.


    But this morning, she had come to Mathew with a message from the World Tree.


    ¡°So, we¡¯re going to need to go down there and snatch the heart of the Nest?¡± Mathew asked, looking away from the chasm and back at Rehn.


    ¡°Indeed. The roots can¡¯t penetrate whatever barrier is protecting the heart. We¡¯re not the only ones going; each of the Nests are going to need groups to enter them and take the Aether Crystal that the Anti-Life are using to power their nests.¡± Rehn explained.


    ¡°At least we¡¯ll be getting something out of this.¡± Mathew muttered, turning back to stare into the nest.


    Mathew estimated it to be hundreds of feet deep, with the glowing light revealing twists and turns during the descent. He could faintly make out a path carved by the passage of tens of thousands of Anti-Life as they climbed out over the past weeks.


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    It would be difficult to descend and even worse to return, especially if things went sideways and the Players had to retreat in a hurry. Anyone who entered the Nest would have to resign themselves to pushing forward toward the heart regardless of what they faced unless one of the Players had a means of escape that could overcome the depth.


    Mathew let out a sigh as he stood and looked away from the Nest.


    ¡°When do we go?¡± Mathew asked as Rehn led the way back to the settlement. There was a small gate in the wall, well defended and blocked by a portcullis enchanted by magic that one of the Player Forgers had designed, as well as multiple murder holes that dotted the length of the tunnel within.


    ¡°Tomorrow morning. I want you with the advance team of veterans to secure our entry point while I¡¯ll lead the newcomers. We¡¯ll establish a camp at the base of the chasm and work our way to the heart. The World Tree explained that there are dozens of miles of tunnels down there, but it couldn¡¯t tell where the heart was located. We may be down there for a while.¡± Rehn explained.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect anything less. It wouldn¡¯t be a Floor of the Tower if it were easy. Descend into a Nest, surrounded on all sides by enemies and stumble blindly into the gods only know what, in search of the Heart. I¡¯m just surprised the gods haven¡¯t thrown us another curveball.¡± At the statement, Rehn started, and her foot stumbled for a moment.


    ¡°Funny that you mentioned that. There is something else. I wanted to wait until we were back in town, out of earshot of the others, but this would be fine as well. The Nest contains some form of corrupted mana.¡± Rehn clarified quietly, her eyes darting around them to make sure no one was close enough to overhear.


    ¡°Meaning?¡± Mathew asked, not liking the sound of it.


    ¡°We won¡¯t be able to recover our mana once we¡¯re inside, at least not by using the ambient mana. Even our potions will be less effective; the corruption invades everything, including our inventories. You¡¯ll need to carry anything you want to use on your body and don¡¯t expect to be able to restore your mana quickly.¡± Rehn described.


    ¡°Great. Wonderful.¡± Mathew replied, running his hand through his hair in exasperation as the pair passed under the wall and into the tunnel. Mathew could feel the eyes of the other Players on him as they walked, carefully assessing them for threats.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have supplies at the base camp, but you need to be prepared.¡± Rehn finished, and Mathew nodded at the warning.


    ¡°A lot of people are going to die.¡± Mathew whispered, careful not to let his words carry to the Players watching them.


    ¡°They always do.¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The rising sun found Mathew back at the edge of the Chasm, looking down at the Nest warily as over a hundred and fifty veteran Players lined the rim. Rehn had gathered the town''s most powerful and skilled people the night before and explained what would be expected of them.


    Each had a pack carrying their necessary supplies, with bandoliers of potions, spell components and weapons ready. The veterans were legendary figures to the thousands of newer reinforcements that had joined them, watching from a short distance away for their turn to descend.


    They had survived the worst the Anti-Life had thrown against them and survived. Better yet, they had taken Aether from their fallen foes and enhanced their abilities, gaining levels and new Blessings. Even though the veterans had only been here a few weeks longer than the newcomers, those extra days made an almost insurmountable difference for the reinforcements.


    Mathew adjusted the knife at his belt, then ensured that the hatchet he had purchased from the shop was strapped to his pack.


    The magical hatchet had been pretty cheap, another find in the Shop that had come from a fallen Player. Enchanted with fire runes, the hatchet would glow bright orange when he held it in his hand as if it were fresh from the fires of a forge.


    Mathew didn¡¯t normally use a weapon, but with the restrictions on his mana that Rehn warned him of, he wanted to be as thrifty as possible when he descended into the Nest.


    ¡°Everyone ready?¡± Someone called out, and Mathew recognized the young man who would be leading one of the teams. Wearing thick, black robes with a hood, the young man had a long, wooden staff topped by a strange, twisted rune made of obsidian.


    Seeing the quick nods or indifference of the group, the young man gathered his mana into a spell.


    ¡°Mass Drifting Descent ¨C As Light as a Feather!¡± The young man chanted the words to his Blessing, and a faint, glowing light gathered around each of the gathered veterans. Not hesitating for a moment, the young man leapt over the rim of the chasm, letting the wind whip around his robe as he drifted slowly downwards toward the pulsating, glowing light of the Nest.


    Mathew took a last look at Rehn, who was standing amongst the reinforcements. She looked radiant and commanding in the glow of the morning sun, only slightly visible through the gaps in the World Tree¡¯s canopy.


    Giving her an encouraging nod, Mathew jumped into the chasm.


    The magic of the young man¡¯s Blessing buoyed him, making his descent feel like he was sinking into the ocean. The darkness of the chasm alternated with the pulsations of the Nest¡¯s Heart, and the spicy scent of Aether wafted up from the depths below him.

 Chapter 128 – Floor 11: Part 12

    <u>Chapter 128</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 12


    The silver wristband on his right arm began to vibrate as soon as Mathew¡¯s feet touched gently on the rough, stone ground of the Nest. Hundreds of other Players had a similar notification come through their bangles, shining a light in the tunnel''s darkness.


    Objective Updated: Into the Heart of the Enemy


    Find the Heart empowering the Anti-Life Nest and seize it for the gods.


    Current Location: Unknown. Store and all System Services have been disabled due to corruption of Foreign Mana.


    Mathew lowered his wrist and looked at his surroundings. He was at the bottom of the chasm, although the ceiling had multiple overhangs, resulting in the sky being blocked from where he stood. The descent had been treacherous, even with the spell to reduce the speed of his fall.


    The bottom of the chasm was relatively flat, with dozens of connections to different tunnels. Each new path led into the darkness and was smaller than Mathew. If he wanted to explore any of the new tunnels, he would need to crouch or crawl on his knees.


    The Anti-Life had carved the tunnels, and they hadn¡¯t used any more space than necessary when excavating the passageways. With Mathew¡¯s pack on his back, he would have a tricky time maneuvering once he entered.


    ¡°The others will set up base camp here, so make sure you mark your way back as you explore. There are thousands of branching paths, and we don¡¯t want anyone to get lost. Our goal is to scout for the heart, but there won¡¯t be enough of us to strike into this nest, so don¡¯t get excited and run off.¡± The robed young man said as he directed them to form small groups.


    Mathew was assigned a partner, and to his surprise, he recognized the young man. It was the messenger that had come to fetch him a few weeks ago. Wearing armour and with his rifle still strapped to his back, the young man had added a pistol to his hip and a long blade over a foot long placed in a sheathe around his thigh.


    ¡°Mathew.¡± The young man said, nodding in greeting. Before things could get awkward, as Mathew had no idea of the young man¡¯s name, he offered it.


    ¡°Allen.¡± The young man said, and Mathew returned the greeting. Anyone who could survive this long on this Floor against the Anti-Life was an experienced fighter and adventurer. Mathew had no trouble working together with Allen to accomplish their goal.


    ¡°Two hours. Mark the paths and map your tunnels. Once the timer is up, we regroup back here. The reinforcements will have set up the camp and will be ready for our information.¡± Their leader said as he finished directing the groups.


    Mathew and Allen were assigned a small tunnel not far from them. From what Mathew could see, the floor of the passage was covered in dust that hadn¡¯t been disturbed for a while. It was low enough that Mathew had to bend nearly horizontally, his knees bent in an awkward fashion.


    With his knife in hand, Mathew led the way with Allen close behind.


    In only a few minutes, Mathew was huffing. The tunnels were warm, and the dust in the air made him sneeze occasionally. The air was stifled and stagnate, made worse by the pressing weight of the ground above them. The only light was the faint red glow that seemed to originate from sections of the walls themselves, creating an eery atmosphere.


    Mathew hated being underground; the few experiences he had with it hadn¡¯t been pleasant, and he doubted that an Anti-Life Nest would be any better. Allen was breathing heavily behind him, only stopping to curse quietly when his backpack snagged on a piece of rock that jutted out from the side, a leftover from the excavation that the Anti-Life hadn¡¯t bothered to remove.


    ¡°Little bastards could have done a better job with digging.¡± Allen muttered as he yanked his bag free.


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    ¡°Maybe they did it on purpose to piss you off. They¡¯ve been adapting.¡± Mathew replied quietly as he twisted his body around another rock that protruded from the ceiling. Allen was about to respond when the pair heard noise.


    Freezing in place at the sound, Mathew crouched down further and readied his knife. There was a scratching sound from the wall to their right, like a spade digging into the rock and its metal scraping against stone. Occasionally, there would be a sharp crack of falling rock, and then it would fall silent.


    Looking at Allen, Mathew raised a finger to his lips to signal silence and then carefully began to move forward as quietly as possible. For hundreds of feet, the pair carefully maneuvered through the tunnel, the sound from the walls rising and falling.


    But no matter how far they went, there were no branching paths nor signs of a new tunnel forming. Eventually, they came to a new path that led to their right while the main tunnel continued forward.


    ¡°Should we split up?¡± Allen whispered almost silently, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°We¡¯ll follow the main path and make a note of the branch and the noise. I don¡¯t want to fight the Anti-Life in this tunnel if we can help it.¡± Mathew remarked, and Allen nodded. Raising his knife, Mathew marked a rough arrow that pointed toward the tunnel they followed so that anyone coming behind them would know.


    While Mathew worked, Allen looked at the timer on his silver wristband. They had been here for over an hour already, meaning they would need to turn around soon if they wanted to make the rendezvous in time. Tapping Mathew¡¯s shoulder, Allen pointed at the timer.


    Mathew raised his hand, showing his five fingers while mouthing ¡®Five more minutes¡¯ before moving forward once again. Looking at the side tunnel warily, Allen kept his weapon ready as he followed Mathew.


    Despite the continued sound of digging and scratching that haunted them as they travelled the tunnel, the pair saw nothing. After their remaining five minutes had expired, Mathew and Allen turned around, this time with the latter leading and Mathew following closely behind.


    They had barely moved for more than a few minutes when they heard the echoing sound of a distant explosion, and the tunnel shook around them. The air filled with dust, and the ground shook.


    ¡°It¡¯s collapsing!¡± Mathew shouted, drawing Allen¡¯s attention to the tunnel behind them that was rapidly filling with rocks and soil. Scrambling across the ground, practically on all fours, Mathew and Allen raced forward. The tunnel ceased its rumbling, and the ceiling around them stabilized, but they could hear shouts and more explosions in the distance.


    ¡°We need to hurry back!¡± Allen shouted. They had come to the branching path where Mathew had left an arrow earlier. Ignoring the side path, Allen was just about to enter the tunnel they had come from when Mathew pushed him to the side.


    ¡°Look out!¡± Mathew yelled as the pair fell onto the ground. The tunnel wall collapsed, revealing another passage. This one was filled with Anti-Life; dozens of the creatures were scrambling and clawing their way down the passageway while flames and magic hurled into them.


    Mathew¡¯s vision of the monsters was nearly immediately blocked as a great rush of fire shot past the Anti-Life and struck the ceiling above the monsters. The tunnel containing the Anti-Life immediately collapsed, along with the passageway that Mathew and Allen needed to take to return to the encampment.


    ¡°Come on! Get up and move if you want to live!¡± Mathew shouted as he hauled Allen to his feet and propelled him further down the third, unexplored passageway they had ignored earlier. Coughing and gagging at the thick dust and debris falling around them, they pushed forward until a loud roar occurred behind them, and the passage collapsed, leaving them trapped in their tunnel.


    Falling onto the ground in exhaustion, Allen looked at the fallen rock, sand and billowing cloud of dust with despair. They were trapped, cut off from the camp and the others. Worse, they were likely surrounded by Anti-Life, with only an unexplored section of the tunnel ahead of them.


    ¡°We¡¯re doomed.¡± Allen whispered, and Mathew let out a derisive snort.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been doomed since we entered the Tower. Focusing on it won¡¯t help. Let¡¯s go; there will probably be an exit down this tunnel eventually.¡± Mathew said, helping Allen to his feet.


    ¡°How can you be so calm about everything? We could die down here!¡± Allen hissed, and Mathew looked at him strangely.


    ¡°Of course we can die down here or up on the surface. We can die anywhere, at any time. It¡¯s best to just accept it and move on. None of us are going to see the end of the Tower, Allen. Whether it¡¯s this Floor or the next, no one is leaving the Tower alive.¡± Mathew said, his voice flat and his tone mater-of-fact.


    To Allen, it was the most unnerving speech he had ever heard. He couldn¡¯t help but shiver at how inhuman it sounded. Allen had been through a lot during his time in the Tower. He had seen and done things that only someone who had also been in the Tower could ever understand.


    But as bad as his experience had been, he couldn¡¯t help but think that maybe Mathew had been through worse.


    ¡°Come on. If you want to stay alive, stick close to me and keep your weapons ready.¡± Mathew advised him. Adjusting his pack, Mathew hefted his knife once again and led the way forward into the darkness of the tunnel, with only the faint red light that bathed every wall, allowing them to see.


    In the darkness, Mathew looked as much of a monster to Allen as any of the Anti-Life.

 Chapter 129 – Floor 11: Part 13

    <u>Chapter 129</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 13


    They traveled silently though the tunnel, the passageway alternating between pitch black darkness and bright crimson light as the Heart of the Nest pulsed and sent corrupted Mana throughout the area.  Ever since the passage behind them collapsed, the pair hadn¡¯t heard anything from either the Anti-Life or the other humans who had adventured into its depths.


    After what felt like hours of slowly crawling forward through the tight confines of the tunnel, Mathew and Allen came to a large chamber. Finally, they could stretch upright and work out the aches and pains that had accumulated in their muscles from maintaining their hunched postures.


    The chamber was hundreds of feet wide in each direction, with a ceiling that extended so high that the pair couldn¡¯t see the top through the darkness. The crimson light made veinlike patterns on the walls, pulsating energy swirled and merged with the rock around them.


    The smell of spice was stronger here and Mathew pulled the scarf around his neck up high enough to block his mouth and nose in an attempt to block some of the scent.


    Allen removed his heavy pack and placed it on the ground near the wall as he fell back against it to rest. The corrupted mana of the Nest had more of an effect on them than just blocking their access to their inventory or preventing them from regaining their lost reserves of mana.


    Both of their Body stats were well beyond the normal limits of a human being. Allen should have been able to run at full speed for hours without becoming tired, at a velocity that would put Olympic athletes to shame. But here in the Nest, he was winded after only an hour of walking slowly.


    It was a worrying change and both of them feared what would happen if they were forced into prolonged combat against the Anti-Life in this place. Luckily, they hadn¡¯t spotted any of the creatures for quite a while.


    ¡°Do you think we¡¯re close to the camp?¡± Allen asked, not really expecting Mathew to know but more of just needing an excuse to talk. The Nest was unnerving, and Mathew hadn¡¯t been much for conversation during their travels.


    ¡°Maybe, it¡¯s hard to tell with how the tunnel kept curving.¡± Mathew replied as he stood and looked around the chamber. Allen watched the other man carefully, noticing that Mathew didn¡¯t seem to be out of breath or tired at all.


    Was it a Blessing that gave him his endurance? Or was there such a large difference between them? The ¡®Buzz¡¯ didn¡¯t activate at all, telling Allen that Mathew was of a similar level to himself. But he had learned that different Disciplines gave different stats, and some of the rarer ones were miles ahead of the more common offerings.


    Allen was a ¡®Sharpshooter,¡¯ having upgraded from ¡®Gunner¡¯ to ¡®Minuteman¡¯ during his journey through the Tower. Each was of the ¡®Common¡¯ rarity and provided only the most basic stat boosts. Although he had been through danger plenty of times in the Tower, he had thankfully always been somewhat removed from the monster he fought. There was an advantage to fighting at a distance, and once he had enough Aether to purchase adequate equipment, he hadn¡¯t worried as much.


    But in these tunnels, where the Anti-Life could burst through a wall and tear him apart, he was terrified.


    ¡°But I don¡¯t think we¡¯re close to the camp. The Aether is too thick here to be on the outskirts of the Nest. If I had to guess, I would think we¡¯re getting closer to the Heart.¡± Mathew observed with his eyes locked onto several of the openings in the chamber that led to new tunnels.


    Allen frowned at the remark and shook his head.


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    ¡°Then we need to pick a path that leads back. There¡¯s only the two of us, if we meet the Anti-Life we won¡¯t stand a chance.¡± Allen stated, and Mathew turned to look at the man.


    ¡°I doubt we have a choice. Unless you have a way of picking the right tunnel, I would say we¡¯re going to have to leave it up to fate and the whims of the gods.¡± Mathew said as he turned away.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± Mathew asked as he walked forward. There were two passages that attracted his attention the most. Both had veins of crimson mana emerging from them and had the strongest smell of Aether.


    He was committed now, with little chance that he would be able to return to the camp. It was better to use the opportunity where the Anti-Life were distracted with all the incursions from the Players to strike at the heart.


    Mathew had already come this far; he may as well go all the way.


    ¡°Wait, we could just stay here and-¡± Allen was cut off as Mathew entered the closest tunnel and was soon out of sight. Cursing, he lifted his pack and put the straps around his shoulders as he ran forward to catch up to Mathew.


    As much as he didn¡¯t want to go any further towards the Heart of the Nest, Allen didn¡¯t want to be left alone in the darkness of the chamber. With his rifle in his hands, Allen rushed down the passageway after Mathew.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Psychic Lash!¡± Rehn projected her Psionic powers outwards in a thin line of energy interlaced with her mana. Like a whip of burning blue flames, her Blessing struck the approaching Anti-Life. Cleaving through flesh and bone, the attack cracked the stone of the wall behind the creatures.


    The Anti-Life were attacking the camp in an unending swarm. Each of the advanced scouting parties reported that they were unable to make it more than a mile into the tunnels before they were assaulted by the monsters.


    Rehn had lost track of the casualties amongst the Players. The bodies faded over time and were always replaced with fresh losses.


    It had been hours and still the Anti-Life emerged from the Nest while the Players reserves of mana were quickly depleted, necessitating a slow and costly retreat to the surface. She wasn¡¯t sure how long it would take for the Anti-Life to exhaust their numbers, but she knew they had no choice but to continue.


    Hopefully, the end was soon in sight. Drawing in a deep breath, she rejoined the battle.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Mathew, take a look at this.¡± Allen said as he brushed his hand against the wall of the passage. There were objects emerging from the right of him, protrusions that had cracked the stone and damaged the lines of crimson mana that coated the wall.


    Mathew leaned forward and took a closer look, even going so far as to take out a small flashlight from his pack to inspect it. After only a moment, he turned off the light and returned it to his pack.


    ¡°It¡¯s the roots of the World Tree. We¡¯re at one of the outer edges of the Nest; the roots couldn¡¯t penetrate the walls.¡± Mathew explained.


    ¡°Then we¡¯re almost out?¡± Allen asked in relief, and Mathew shrugged.


    ¡°Looks like it, although I¡¯m not sure which edge this is. But it¡¯s strange; the mana is becoming thicker as we move forward, but this is clearly the edge of the Nest¡­¡± Mathew¡¯s voice trailed off as he took a final look at the wall before turning and heading forward once again.


    ¡°Maybe the mana is stronger here because it¡¯s maintaining a barrier against the World Tree¡¯s roots. That could be why we haven¡¯t seen any of the Anti-Life here; they know that this place is well protected.¡± Allen guessed, and Mathew gave a slight nod.


    ¡°Perhaps.¡±


    They continued on; the roots that were barely visible through the stone would come in and out of sight as if the World Tree had given up on its attempts to enter the Nest after being Stymied. Ignoring them, Mathew chose tunnels and passages at random until the pair came to another chamber.


    The passage widened suddenly, and Mathew was struck by an intense smell of Aether and an overpowering feeling of Corrupted Mana. The power of it was so strong that even Mathew stumbled as if struck, falling to one knee while Allen fell backwards, landing on his backside.


    Retching and gagging at the smell of spice that coated his nostrils and tongue, Mathew spat onto the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There was a steady, red light in this chamber, and Mathew was surprised that it didn¡¯t pulse or fade at all.


    Slowly looking up, Mathew was struck silent by the sight of a large, red crystal floating in the air above them. Lines of crimson mana emerged from the crystal into the walls, where they ran down from the ceiling and entered the stone around it.


    Mathew could hear a rhythmic sound, like a heart beating, as he stared at the crystal. There was so much mana inside of it that it was nearly blinding to his eyes.


    ¡°We made it. The heart of the Nest.¡± Mathew whispered in shock and awe. His stunned state lasted only a moment as a loud ¡®Ding¡¯ rang out in his mind, and a notification came from the system.

 Chapter 130 – Floor 11: Part 14

    <u>Chapter 130</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 14


    Objective Updated: Grasp the Heart of the Anti-Life Nest and return it to the World Tree.


    Summary: The World Tree is unable to penetrate the walls of the Nest with its roots. The gods have ordered you to claim the Heart from the Anti-Life and return it to the World Tree, empowering its roots to claim this land and strengthen its growth.


    Reward: A Blessing as determined by the Patron Deity of the Eleventh Floor. The Blessing is guaranteed to be suitable for your Discipline.


    Mathew scoffed at the reward. The Aether within that Heart was worth millions of units of Aether, if not more. Although some of the Blessings available were valuable, it was barely anything when compared to the Heart.


    But orders were orders, and the gods were never fair. They were tasked with returning the Heart to the World Tree, something that the Players would have done anyway for their own protection.


    ¡°At least we¡¯ll receive something for it.¡± Mathew muttered as he lowered his wrist, hiding the burning words of the notification and returned his gaze to the Heart. He was surprised it was so defenceless. They had walked into the depths of the Nest and could pluck it as easily as picking an apple from a tree.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a boost and you snatch-¡± Mathew was interrupted by another loud ¡®Ding¡¯ from his wristband. Curiously, this one sounded different. The first notification was similar to a chime, and the sound was clear and crisp. This second notification was muffled and it warbled, dipping and surging in tone.


    That wasn¡¯t the only oddity of the notification. The fiery letters, normally mostly orange and red, were black and crimson and they left an oily haze on the air as they burned.


    Objective Updated: Do You Want To Leave This Floor?


    Summary: I Can Offer You A Way Out.


    The words were slowly being filled in, as if whatever entity was still in the process of writing the message. Mathew had never seen a notification from whatever being run the Tower of Avarice look like this, nor had he ever seen a message from anything else filtered through their wristbands.


    ¡°A way out of this Floor? Do you think it''s serious?¡± Allen asked, his voice filled with hope. Progressing through the Tower was a dream of every Player, and to be offered a way out of a horrible and dangerous Floor like this one was a lifeline that Allen wasn¡¯t willing to lose.


    REWARD: A WAY OUT. THE MEANS TO LEAVE THIS FLOOR IS WITHIN YOUR GRASP AND THE PRICE TO DO SO IS A PITTANCE!


    ¡°And what is the price for such a reward?¡± Allen asked eagerly, ready to pay it. He wanted out of this tunnel, out of this stone tomb and the Anti-Life creatures that sought to kill him. If the gods were offering a way out, he would take it.


    NOTE: THE REWARD CAN ONLY BE GIVEN TO ONE PERSON.


    As he read those words, Allen snuck a look at Mathew who merely shrugged. Seeing that Mathew wasn¡¯t really concerned about the limit, Allen returned to reading the message.


    OBJECTIVE: TAKE THE HEART AND DO NOT OFFER IT SUBVERSIVE WORLD TREE. CONSUME THE HEART AND ITS POWER WILL BE YOURS. DO SO, AND THE PATH TO THE NEXT FLOOR WILL BE OPEN. ALL YOU DESIRE WILL BE WITHIN YOUR GRASP, AND NOTHING WILL STAND IN YOUR WAY. NOT THE FALSE GODS NOR THEIR DEMON APOSTLES. THE TRUE POWER WILL RESIDE-.


    ¡°Enough of that.¡± Mathew said, forcefully closing the notification. Seeing that Allen was still reading, Mathew stepped towards him and placed his hand around the other man¡¯s silver wristband, blocking the fiery words.


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    As if awakening from a trance, Allen started slightly and blinked his eyes in a daze.


    ¡°Are you alright? I don¡¯t know how it did it, but whatever is corrupting our inventories and other services from the Tower has a way to communicate. I think it would be best if we ignore any more notifications.¡± Mathew said, making sure that Allen was alright before releasing the other man¡¯s arm.


    ¡°You¡­you don¡¯t believe what it said was true?¡± Allen asked tentatively, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. True or not, I have no doubt that consuming that Heart comes with side effects that neither of us will want, even if it can get someone to the next Floor. This is too similar to another entity that made an enticing offer that a lot of people couldn¡¯t refuse.¡± Mathew said as he walked toward the center of the chamber.


    ¡°What happened to them?¡± Allen asked as his thoughts kept spinning around the mysterious offer. His eyes were locked onto the Heart and the possibilities it offered.


    ¡°They all died.¡± Mathew stated, his tone flat and heavy. Observing the chamber, Mathew looked for the best way to grab the Heart.


    ¡°Come here and give me a boost to reach it.¡± Mathew said, waving Allen over to him. The pair were directly under the crimson Heart of Aether as it continued to pulsate with power. It was about 8 or 9 feet up in the air, floating in place at the center of the chamber.


    ¡°Right.¡± Allen said, half in a daze. Leaning forward, he cupped his hands and boosted Mathew up toward the Heart. Straining his arms to their limits, Mathew grabbed both sides of the crystal and pulled. He expected some resistance from the Heart or some barrier to block him. To his surprise, it came loose without any fuss.


    Landing on the ground softly, Mathew looked at the Heart in his hands. It felt warm, and the mana within was almost electric against his skin. The crimson light gave a final pulse of intense light before dimming to a dull glow that was contained deep within the Heart.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    Two notifications rang out simultaneously in two separate tones, indicating that both the normal message and the strange one from the mysterious entity had come into their wristbands as soon as Mathew grasped the heart.


    ¡°Ignore them. Let¡¯s get out of-¡± Mathew was interrupted by the deafening sound of a rifle discharge. Like a crack of thunder, the noise of the weapon firing echoed off the walls of the chamber. But Mathew hardly noticed the noise; it was the magical bullet that struck him in the shoulder that caught his attention.


    The bullet was a streak of light as it fired from the rifle in Allen¡¯s hands and shot toward Mathew. Even distracted by the Heart, Mathew¡¯s instincts were honed to danger. When Allen shot, Mathew was already moving. Even with his high body stat, Mathew couldn¡¯t move fast enough to avoid the bullet.


    Time slowed as Mathew¡¯s perception of his environment increased. A side effect of his high ¡®Mind¡¯ attribute, Mathew was aware of everything around him. The warmth of the Heart in his hands and its smooth exterior, the dust in the air the swirled and moved in the light from the small movement of air from the passage behind him.


    Allen had a fierce and hungry look on his face as he stared at Mathew and the Heart in his hands. His eyes were wide and filled with desire as the rifle in his hands was still red from the heat of its firing.


    Turning a little, the bullet that was meant to strike Mathew in the chest, directly over his heart, missed and struck his shoulder instead. An agony instantly erupted in Mathew¡¯s body as the bullet carved its way through flesh and bone before exiting the other side to impact against the stone wall.


    Not giving into the pain, Mathew didn¡¯t hesitate to retaliate. He exhaled immediately, the mana within him already boiling.


    ¡°Breath of Dragons.¡± Mathew shouted, his words igniting his breath as he spat flames toward Allen. With a cry, the Sharpshooter shielded his face with his arms and stumbled backwards. Not giving the man a chance to recover, Mathew leapt forward and slammed into Allen, knocking him onto the ground.


    Ripping the rifle from Allen¡¯s hands, Mathew balled his hand into a fist and slammed it into Allen¡¯s face. But Allen was a combat veteran who had been through hell in the Tower of Avarice. The first blow struck Allen on the cheek, but he gripped Mathew¡¯s arm on the second and pushed him off.


    Falling onto the ground, Mathew lost his grip on the heart, and Allen lunged forward to grab it. Scrambling to his feet, Allen ignored his fallen rifle as he dashed to the chamber''s far end. Laughing wildly in triumph, he raised the Heart to his mouth.


    ¡°Stop you idiot!¡± Mathew shouted as he regained his feet. But he was too late to stop him.


    The Heart seemed to shrink as if it were eager to be consumed. Popping it into his mouth, Allen felt the crystallized Aether Heart melt into an energy more pure and powerful than anything he had ever experienced.


    It was at that moment that another notification came through. Unconcerned about what Mathew might do, Allen checked the message.


    OBJECTIVE UPDATED: YOU HAVE CONSUMED THE HEART AND ITS POWER IS NOW YOURS.


    REWARD: WHATEVER YOU DESIRE IS WITHIN REACH. RETURN TO THE TOWER AND DESTROY THE FALSE GODS THAT RESIDE THERE AND COVET WHAT IS OURS!!!


    With the message came an agony beyond anything Allen had ever experienced. The corrupted mana of the Heart surged through him, and with it came changes to his body. Falling forward, Allen felt his flesh writhe and transform.

 Chapter 131 – Floor 11: Part 15

    <u>Chapter 131</u> ¨C Floor 11: Part 15


    Mathew back away from the vortex of corrupted mana that surrounded Allen as the man screamed in agony. His entire body writhed and twisted, bulbous protrusions emerged from his skin and Mathew could hear the sounds of flesh tearing and bones snapping.


    A new set of arms formed from Allen¡¯s bloody torso, along with another set of legs. His skin darkened, and lines of fiery mana scarred his flesh. His teeth, white and perfect, elongated and formed into long fangs.


    Allen became an amalgamation of an Anti-Life and a human. Terrifying to behold and more powerful than any other of the Anti-Life monsters that Mathew had seen. As the transformation completed, the power it exuded returned into Allen¡¯s body. The swirling vortex of corrupted mana subsided as the screaming stopped.


    ¡°It was telling the truth. Everything is so clear to me now! The gods have lied to us! The Tower is a shackle, binding us to subservience! Only the True Gods can free us. I need to leave this place and spread the truth to the other Floors!¡± Allen yelled, and his voice echoed loudly from the stone walls.


    Mathew cautiously retreated further while subtly preparing his mana for his transformation to a stronger form for could fight Allen if necessary. Even this small movement wasn¡¯t able to evade Allen¡¯s view and his eyes locked onto Mathew immediately. The irises of his eyes had turned scarlet red and Mathew could see a swirling mix of Aether deep inside his pupils.


    ¡°You can¡¯t evade the truth, Mathew. The Anti-Life aren¡¯t just mindless monsters that seek to devour the universe. They will have their own gods forged from the Aether! We were stupid to just give it away for trash Blessings and pitiable Disciplines!¡± Allen shouted, trying to convince Mathew of the reality of their situation.


    ¡°That¡¯s the Heart talking, Allen. Just calm down, and we can find a way to separate it from you.¡± Mathew replied as he tried to calm the maddened monster that Allen had become.


    ¡°Separate it! You¡¯re a fool, just like all the rest of them! Mindless slaves serving their masters in the Tower! Only the Anti-Life can free us. With more Hearts from the Nests, I can become a god myself!¡± Allen screamed, and the vortex of corrupted mana reappeared, stronger than before.


    Mathew was blasted backwards. His back hit the stone wall with a ¡®thud¡¯, and even his magical armour couldn¡¯t absorb all of the blow. Coughing, Mathew stumbled forward and nearly fell to his knees. The power that Allen was throwing around casually was equal to the directed attack Blessings of many of the Players in the tunnels.


    Allen railed and shouted, and his attitude became increasingly deranged. Mathew looked at the passageway to his side and used Allen¡¯s distraction to rush toward it. When he was nearly to the tunnel, a wave of corrupted mana struck the passage wall with enough force to crack the stone and collapse it.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere! The Heart isn¡¯t the only thing that can increase my power! I¡¯ll consume your heart as well!¡± Allen screamed, and his multiple legs kicked off the ground as he leapt toward Mathew, his arms outstretched to catch him.


    ¡°Breath of Dragons!¡± The mana in Mathew¡¯s chest that he had been cycling since Allen began his transformation stung his lungs. Releasing a breath of bright green acidic cloud into Allen¡¯s face, Mathew didn¡¯t hesitate to see the results as he lunged out of the way.


    ¡°Ahh!¡± Allen screamed. The pain was intense, and the acidic breath clung to his flesh and burned his skin and eyes. Throwing up his hands over his face, Allen threw his head back and howled in agony.


    Mathew was running toward the only other exit to the chamber when a loud ¡®Ding¡¯ sounded out, and another notification came through. This time, he didn¡¯t need to raise or activate his wristband to see the message; the burning letters appeared on the chamber walls.


    Objective Updated: A Monstrous Heart


    Summary: The Heart of the Anti-Life Nest has been consumed. Destroy the monster containing it and retrieve the Heart.


    Reward: A Blessing will be randomly given upon completion.


    Hidden Reward: Will be revealed when the Heart is returned to the World Tree


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Failure Punishment: Failure to destroy the Heart-Consuming Monster will result in transfer to a Punishment Floor.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Mathew shouted as he skidded to a halt. He wasn¡¯t sure what a ¡®punishment floor¡¯ was, but if it was worse than the Floors he had already experienced, he was pretty sure he wouldn¡¯t survive it, which meant that he needed to kill Allen.


    Turning around, Mathew began to fuel the transformation of his body. His bones became heavier and denser while his skin thickened and formed a faint layer of protective scales. His muscles bulged, enhancing his already high ¡®Body¡¯ attribute, and he pulled out his magical knife.


    Dashing toward the blinded Allen, Mathew leapt onto his monstrous former ally''s back. Gripped one of the bulbous protrusions that felt like a new limb being grown inside Allen¡¯s flesh, Mathew stabbed downwards with his knife.


    Roaring in anger at the sudden assault, Allen spun around and tried to knock Mathew off of his back but was unable to dislodge him. Ignoring the pain of Mathew¡¯s acidic breath created by his Blessing, Allen ran toward the nearest wall.


    Mathew removed his knife and leapt from Allen¡¯s back just as his malformed body slammed into the stone, sending cracks throughout the rock and up into the ceiling. Mathew leapt backwards just as the first large piece of rock fell from the ceiling and struck Allen harmlessly.


    As more rocks fell from above Mathew concentrated on a single, large and dense piece of stone.


    ¡°Enlarge!¡±


    Mathew pumped most of his mana into this Blessing, making the piece of rock that was as large as his own body double in size, then doubling it again. To go along with its increased size, he increased density and weight.


    By the time Mathew finished his blessing, the stone was as large as the monster Allen had become and dense enough that not even the strongest player with the highest ¡®Boby¡¯ attribute would be able to crack it with a magical weapon.


    Allen roared in anger as he turned, ready to attack Mathew again, only for the large stone section of ceiling that Mathew had enhanced to strike him. Allen was crushed by the weight of the rock, pushing his mutated body against the ground. He feebly tried to crawl his way out from beneath the rock but was unable to budge it at all.


    Mathew wearily picked up his knife and made his way toward the fallen monster that had once been a human. Pushing the thought of what this creature had been, Mathew focused on what it currently was. An enemy determined to murder and devour the humans above. It was no different from the other Anti-Life he had fought, regardless of its origins.


    Mathew plunged the knife into Allen, and the massive creature''s struggles ceased. Letting go of the ¡®Enlarge¡¯ Blessing, Mathew watched as the section of stone shrunk. A large red crystal pulsated with mana in the center of the mass of flesh that had been the monstrous Allen.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡®Ding.¡¯


    The sound of the notification rang out as Mathew wearily climbed out of the chasm that contained the Nest. None of the other Players that he saw on the surface spared him a single glance. They were all exhausted and showing clear signs of having fought an intense battle.


    Hundreds of people gathered around the edge of the chasm; most sat on the ground or were lying on stretchers as healers or their comrades poured elixirs and potions on their wounds. There were no bodies anywhere, either human or Anti-Life. Enough time had passed that they had all faded away.


    To the Players gathered here, Mathew was just another survivor of the battle and the adventure into the depths of the Nest that managed to escape the Anti-Life.


    Mathew placed his pack on the ground in a clear space and practically collapsed in exhaustion. He barely had enough energy to climb the long, rope ladder that someone had placed in the Nest. Finally having a chance to catch his breath, Mathew looked at the message on his Silver Wristband.


    Objective Updated: Feed the World Tree (Completed)


    Summary: You have successfully brought the Heart of the Nest to the surface, allowing the World Tree to penetrate the barriers blocking its attempts to grow. The Heart of the Anti-Life Nest will nourish the World Tree.


    Reward: You have been granted the following Blessing: Reduce


    Reduce: Similar to the effects of ¡®Enlarge¡¯ only in reverse. You may change the size of a non-living object with your mana as determined by your attributes and the amount of mana spent. The object''s reduced size will also decrease its weight.


    Bonus Reward: Each Participant of the Tower of Avarice will transition to the next Floor after earning the World Tree 10 Million units of Aether.


    Current Aether Accumulated: 12,232,058 units.


    Mathew Larson: Eligible for transition to Floor 12.


    Congratulations!


    Transitioning in Ten (10) Minutes.


    Reading the rewards, Mathew was stunned. The Blessing was pretty good; he found the ¡®Enlarge¡¯ Blessing to be useful and could only assume that the ¡®Reduce¡¯ Blessing would be equally valuable. But it was the bonus award that left him speechless.


    The 11<sup>th</sup> Floor would be continuing for decades if the description was correct. But it seemed that the gods had other plans. His contributions in the Nest had been enough to earn him passage to the next Floor.


    Mathew knew that Players were only paid a small percentage of the Aether they earned for the gods, but he hadn¡¯t expected the evidence to be there on the screen before him. He had earned over twelve million units for the World Tree but had only been paid less than ten percent of that during his time here.


    ¡°I need to speak to Rehn.¡± Mathew muttered, climbing to his feet and already looking at his surroundings, hoping to find her amongst the crowd.


    He didn¡¯t have long left on this Floor.

 Chapter 132 – Floor 12: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 132</u> ¨C Floor 12: Part 1


    Albrecht, King of Anglia, stood on the ramparts of castle battlements and stared out over the barren lands of the north. Little grew in this place aside from sparse patches of grass and the odd tree that stubbornly clung to life against the wind and the weather.


    The castle had been built nearly a thousand years ago by Albrecht¡¯s ancestor, Hadrian, who used the castle and the wall that stretched out from it as a bullwork against the tide of Demi-Beasts that once inhabited the north.


    Hadrian¡¯s wall was a relic now, a remnant of a bygone era. The Demi-Beasts had been driven from Alba in the time of the Romans, their bones long since buried beneath the earth. Humanity had reclaimed the lands they once occupied, and the Kingdom of Anglia now stretched from the southern shores all the way to the very northern tip of the island.


    The frigid wind blew across the castle walls, and Albrecht shivered with the cold. He was too old for the North now; the cold made his bones ache. If it hadn¡¯t been for the threat building in Londinium, he would never have made the journey here.


    But when it came to the life of his son, Albrecht was willing to go to the ends of the Earth itself to keep him safe.


    ¡°My King, the ritual is ready to begin.¡±


    Albrecht¡¯s personal mage, a descendant of the great Magus Merlin himself, stepped out of the doorway and gave a brief bow. Wearing black robes and holding a wooden staff carved with ancient runes dedicated to the gods, Enalious had similar symbols tattooed on his face and hands.


    ¡°Very good.¡± Albrecht replied. He took a last look at the barren plains and whispered a quick prayer to his chosen Deity, the god of Sanctuary Retort, before following the mage into the castle.


    The halls were made of bare stone, austere and rugged. This castle had been neglected over the centuries; its usefulness had expired after the last Demi-Best Sovereign had fallen, leaving the structure as a mausoleum of the past rather than a critical part of Anglia¡¯s defence.


    Still, Albrecht could think of no better place to hold the ritual. Remote and isolated enough that no onlookers or curious individuals would attempt to pierce the veil of secrecy he had constructed, but with a plausible reason for his visit.


    Albrecht let out a deep sigh. The worry and unease he felt in his heart threatened to overwhelm him. Sensing his distress, Enalious spoke.


    ¡°All will be well, my King. The ritual has been constructed perfectly. The gods will respond favourably.¡±


    ¡°We need time, my friend. Time for him to grow up healthy and strong. I lost one son already; I cannot lose another.¡± Albrecht whispered in response, his voice barely heard in the stone corridor.


    They soon came upon the site of the Ritual. The central hall had been cleared of all furnishings; even the rugs on the floor had been dragged out of the room to expose the bare stone. Runes and symbols had been carved deep into the rock, stretching across the entire chamber, and even the walls were not spared.


    The room smelled of blood and magic; the runes had been filled with Dragon¡¯s Blood. The valuable resource that had been hoarded since the time of King Arthur had been liberally used, along with gemstones that were placed in sconces in a ring around the center of the chamber.


    Albrecht had spared no expense for this ritual to succeed. The bloodline of the royal family of Angalia was at risk.


    Surrounding the room were the Royal Knights, men and women whom Albrecht trusted beyond all others. Wearing their ceremonial garb and silver armour, they had swords belted to their hips and magic-enhanced rifles gripped in their hands. A blend of magic and technology, these knights made up the core of Anglia¡¯s strength.


    Nodding in greeting, Albrecht surveyed the room to ensure everything was in proper order before walking to the grand array constructed in the center. Carefully kneeling on the outside edge of the carved runes and ensuring that he didn¡¯t disturb them in any way, Albrecht removed the final piece required for the ritual from his pocket.


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    It was a small cube of crystallized Aether, the entire product of decades of worship by the people of Anglia. Albrecht could feel the power within, the swirling mass of energy that could propel a person to unimaginable strength or the depths of madness if they couldn¡¯t handle what was within.


    It was Aether that allowed King Arthur to unite a kingdom and the wizard Melin to plumb the depths of magic. Aether had killed the Demi-Beasts and ensured the survival of humanity. But it was also Aether that created the monsters in the first place.


    Today, no one was willing to take the risk of using Aether. There was no need. Magic and technology had advanced enough to protect Anglia from threat. If it hadn¡¯t been for the danger posed to his last remaining child, Albrecht would never have taken this cube of Aether from the treasury.


    But what was the worth of such a paltry thing such as this when compared to the life of his son?


    Albrecht gently placed the cube in the very center of the ritual array, allowing the swirling energy within to connect with the lines of runes and symbols carved into the floor. The dragon¡¯s blood, so dark that it was nearly black, began to glow a bright red as it combined with the Aether.


    The cube dissolved, releasing the Aether into the air, and the chamber began to smell strongly of spice. Albrecht stood and retreated from the glowing ritual array while Enalious chanted the divine spell that would beseech the gods for their assistance.


    The mana in the chamber ebbed and flowed; it was constantly drained by the array and was replaced by fresh energy from the rapidly diminishing cube of Aether. When the cube finally disappeared completely, an intense flash of light culminated in Enalious shouting the last words to the ritual spell.


    Albrecht raised his hand to shield his eyes from the light, and he could hear the shuffling of feet from the nervous knights in the sudden silence. As the light gradually faded, Albrecht saw a figure revealed.


    A young man stood in the center of the ritual array. He was handsome and fair, his hair long and dark. The young man wore armour of a design that Albrecht had never seen before, leather and silver with a halo of mana around it that spoke of its magical properties.


    The young man seemed unconcerned by his sudden appearance in a strange chamber, surrounded by armed men and women for an unknown reason. He looked around curiously, focusing on the weapons held by the knights and Enalious¡¯ rune carved staff before focusing on King Albrecht.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± The young man said coldly, and Albrecht felt a chill travel up his spine at the dismissive tone.


    The young man was dangerous, unbelievably so. An intense power within his body put the knights protecting Albrecht to shame. The king believed that if the young man wished, he could easily slaughter everyone in the chamber.


    He was exactly the sort of person that Albrecht needed at this moment. The young man was perfect for their needs.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    <u>Earlier</u>


    With the clock ticking, Mathew went in search of Rehn. By the time he found her standing amongst a group of other Players, he only had a couple of minutes left. Once he explained what had happened to him in the tunnel and the reward for obtaining the Heart, the elevator had risen from the ground in a pillar of light.


    A quick goodbye and a promise to meet again on another Floor were the only things the pair could say to each other before the Tower of Avarice forced Mathew into the elevator. An overwhelming sense of weariness swept over him, and not for the first time, he hated the Tower and the gods who oversaw it.


    By the time the elevator began to slow down and the notification regarding the next floor came through his wristband, Mathew had recovered his stamina, but his mental state was still in flux. He had just killed a companion less than an hour ago. He didn¡¯t know Allen well, but the man had been from Earth, the same as him.


    He had been a person with hopes and dreams and likely a family, and Mathew had been forced to kill him because the fool had made a mistake.


    By habit, Mathew read the message.


    Floor 12: A King¡¯s Quest.


    Summary: A King has paid a significant price to have you brought to his kingdom for a Quest. Complete his task to the best of your ability to proceed to the next Floor.


    Reward: One ¡®Rare¡¯ class magical Item.


    Mathew lowered his wrist and closed his eyes as he thought about his mission. It didn¡¯t matter much what it was going to be; it wasn¡¯t like he had much of a choice but to go along with it. But the reward did catch his attention.


    Magical Items in the Tower Shop had a Rarity Rating, which Mathew and most Players ignored since the higher the Rarity, the more expensive the item became. All of Mathews''s gear, from his magical armour to the knife on his hip, were of the ¡®Common¡¯ variety.


    Even at the ¡®Common¡¯ level, magical items could cost anywhere from a few thousand units of Aether to millions. Mathew had seen a handful of ¡®Uncommon¡¯ magical items in the past; the mace that he received from Righteous Subjugation while having a ¡®Unique¡¯ item modifier to its Rarity had still only been classed as ¡®Uncommon.¡¯


    ¡®If such a weapon was only an ¡®Uncommon,¡¯ how powerful was a ¡®Rare¡¯ item?¡¯ Mathew thought as the elevator came to a halt and opened to the Twelfth Floor.

 Chapter 133 – Floor 12: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 133</u> ¨C Floor 12: Part 2


    Mathew emerged from the elevator''s white light into a stone chamber. The room was drafty, the air carried with it a chill and dampness, along with a the smell of Aether and magic.


    He wasn¡¯t alone. There were men and women surrounding in at the chamber¡¯s edges, holding weapons and watching him warily. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ didn¡¯t activate, letting Mathew know that these people weren¡¯t particularly powerful. He could feel the mana within them, weak and chaotic.


    They wouldn¡¯t have lived long against the Anti-Life.


    There were two people close to Mathew, each with significantly more mana within their bodies than anyone else in the room. The man on the right was older, and with his robes and staff gripped tightly in his hand, Mathew took him for a wizard or mage.


    There was a connection between the robed man and the runes carved in the stone floor beneath his feet. Clearly, this man had been the one responsible for this summoning array¡¯s creation. Mathew had seen them in several of the past Floors, a way for the locals to beseech the gods for help and to have a Player come to fix whatever problems they had.


    Ignoring the mage, Mathew turned his attention to the well-dressed nobleman directly in front of him. Dressed in formal clothing elaborately worked in gold and with a cloak on his shoulders topped with a white fox fur collar, his outfit screamed ¡®Royalty¡¯ to Mathew¡¯s eyes.


    If Mathew were in a better state of mind, well rested and able to better deal with the sudden shift to a new Floor, he may have been more polite and capable of dealing with people. But he had just been ripped from a hellish Floor where he had descended into caverns deep below the surface, facing horrors that these people would never understand.


    He had killed a man less than an hour ago. Someone from Earth who had entered the Tower to fulfill a wish or dream. And because of a stupid choice his companion had made, Mathew had been forced to put him down like a monster.


    He wasn¡¯t in the mood to entertain the locals of the 12<sup>th</sup> Floor.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Mathew asked, his tone tired and cold. He watched as the Nobleman jerked slightly at the disrespectful words, and Mathew expected him to grow angry and say something. But to his surprise, the Noble seemed pleased at his attitude!


    ¡®What have I gotten into this time?¡¯ Mathew thought as the Noble cleared his throat and began to speak.


    ¡°Blessed Champion, We have beseeched the gods for your help. We thank you for-¡± Mathew interrupted the man before he could continue.


    ¡°Look, I¡¯m not in the mode for pleasantries and to listen to you sing the praises of the gods. Tell me what you want in plain and simple English.¡± Mathew stated, holding up his hand to halt the Noble from speaking.


    Next to him, the mage seemed to grow irritated by Mathew¡¯s attitude. A quick glance from Mathew and a slight flare of Mana circulated through Mathew¡¯s body silenced him. He could hear the shuffling of feet and the desire to put him in his place from the people ringing the room, but Mathew ignored them.


    ¡°Very well. I will be direct. We¡­I¡­ need your assistance.¡± The Noble replied, and Mathew nodded, indicating that the man should continue.


    ¡°I am Albrecht, King of Anglia. I want your help protecting my son.¡± The King explained.


    ¡°Is someone looking to assassinate him?¡± Mathew asked, and the king shook his head sadly.


    ¡°No. Alfred¡¯s constitution is naturally frail. He has difficulty taking in the Earth¡¯s ambient mana, and his body lacks the martial abilities to enhance his health through training and dedication to a Knightly regimen.¡± Albrecht stated; he paused before Enalious continued.


    ¡°The King of Anglia is more than just our ruler; he must also be a leader of Knights and a bulwark against any possible invasion, be it from Demi-Beasts or other nations. Alfred is unable to fulfil that role, and the King has no other living relatives to take up the mantle of King. There is no need for an ¡®Assassination¡¯ of Alfred; our enemies know that he cannot become King.¡± Enalious finished.


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    ¡°Yet. He can not take on the crown as of yet. There is still hope for Alfred; he just needs more time. With the proper herbs and remedies, he can grow stronger.¡± Albrecht retorted.


    ¡°And you want me to guard him until he gets better?¡± Mathew asked in confusion.


    He wasn¡¯t sure exactly what they wanted of him. If no one was looking to kill Alfred because he was too weak to become King, then why did they need someone from the Tower of Avarice to come to this Floor?


    The King and Mage shared a brief look before Enalious explained.


    ¡°The King must have an heir, especially in times of turmoil. The Demi-Beasts have been stirring on the northern islands. A Beast Tide is coming, and it will be up to the King and his Knights to protect the people. The Nobility will not allow any uncertainty in the succession. If Alfred is unable to fulfill that role, the crown will transfer to another House.¡± Enalious clarified.


    ¡°So? Let it.¡± Mathew replied with an indifferent shrug. He had no interest in letting an old King keep his crown unless there was a real purpose aside from pride and vanity. Enalious seemed shocked at the words and flushed red with anger when Albrecht placed a calming hand on the mage¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Peace, Enalious. He doesn¡¯t understand. The House most likely to take the Crown, House Rosen, has a fearsome reputation. But their power is undeniable, and I am unable to investigate their activities properly.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± Mathew said, holding up a hand to stop the King. He didn¡¯t care about the politics; he just needed to know what he needed to do to pass the Floor.


    ¡°What do you want from me?¡±


    ¡°Alfred is too weak to be my Heir. I¡­had another son. Aiden. He was the eldest. Strong, intelligent and brave.¡± Albrecht¡¯s voice cracked, and he stopped speaking, overcome by emotions. Enalious took the lead in explaining what they wanted from Mathew.


    ¡°When Aiden was a child, he was sent to the Americas with the King¡¯s brother for his protection. It was something we were loathed to do, but there had been many attempts on the child¡¯s life, and it was thought that distance would provide additional safeguard. We were wrong.¡±


    ¡°The ship was lost, and Aiden, along with the crew and the King¡¯s brother, perished at sea.¡± Enalious finished.


    ¡°He would have been your age, in his early twenties. His death was never confirmed; there was no body to recover.¡± Albrecht added, taking a deep, steadying breath.


    ¡°I have asked the gods to provide a young man of similar age as Aiden, with the power to defend himself and silence my critics, to assume the role of my son and Heir until such time that Alfred is able to take up the responsibility.¡± Albrecht said, his grey eyes piercing into Mathew¡¯s own.


    Mathew was surprised at the request and was stunned for a moment before he burst out into laughter. Great guffaws that echoed off the walls. The surrounding Knights made their displeasure known, gripping their weapons and grumbling at the disrespect that Mathew was showing.


    ¡°You want me to pretend to be your son? Are you insane? I don¡¯t know anything about your country or this world. Not to mention, I don¡¯t look much like someone related to you or sound anything like someone from ¡®Anglia.¡¯ How can you expect me to pull this off?¡± Mathew asked loudly.


    That outburst was the final straw for the Knights. They could handle a certain level of disrespect from this stranger, but Mathew had just crossed the line. A half dozen of them pulled swords from their sheathes. They knew their King would forbid them from killing Mathew, but they could beat him into submission.


    Mathew felt the hostile intent immediately. After fighting the Anti-Life, the Undead, and a host of other monsters and creatures over the decades he spent in the Tower, his senses were honed to a keen edge. Mathew flared his mana as soon as he heard the first footfall approach and the sound of a sword leaving its sheath.


    Cycling the energy through his body, Mathew released a small portion of it. Like a storm descending, the air swirled around him violently. It felt as if a heavy weight was pressing down on everyone present, and Enalious was forced to shield himself and the king from the oppressive energies.


    ¡°Earthbind!¡± Mathew shouted, using the Blessing to bind the Knights with yellow energy. Like roots growing from a tree, the Blessing climbed up their legs and bodies, tightening like ropes until they couldn¡¯t move.


    ¡°Enough! No one will move until I order it so.¡± Albrecht shouted. The remaining Knights halted immediately, but they watched Mathew warily.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter who you are or where you are from. If I say you are my son, Aiden, then no one can question it. With power like yours, you will be a perfect cover for Alfred while he grows stronger. I don¡¯t need you to learn our ways or act as we do. The more you don¡¯t fit in, the less attention there will be on Alfred.¡± Albrecht stated, and Mathew ceased cycling the mana inside his body.


    The storm around him subsided, and everyone in the room breathed a small sigh of relief as the oppressive nature of Mathew¡¯s mana retreated.


    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ve been ordered by the gods to fulfill your request. So, if you want me to be ¡®Aiden¡¯ and put up with this charade, that¡¯s what I¡¯ll do. But I¡¯ve spent decades fighting monsters that you couldn¡¯t imagine. I¡¯ve killed and almost been killed more times than I can count. Don¡¯t expect me to fit into ¡®Noble¡¯ society easily.¡± Mathew cautioned, and Albrecht smiled for the first time since Mathew had arrived.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be perfect.¡±

 Chapter 134 – Floor 12: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 134</u> ¨C Floor 12: Part 3


    Prince Aiden was alive!


    The rumour burned through Londinium like a fire. His name was on every lip, and the talk on every street corner was regarding the Prince''s miraculous return. Even in the circles of Nobility, Aiden was the topic of conversation.


    While the Lords and Ladies of Anglia liked to act regal and dignified as if serving the Kingdom and the gods were their top priority, those who knew them most recognized that gossip was the driving force in their lives.


    They lived for rumours and juicy tidbits whispered behind each other''s backs. Affairs and infidelities, the secret names of mistresses and those who lived apart from their spouses. The more sordid the detail, the more they would pass that knowledge between them.


    So, when the rumour of the dead Prince being found alive made it to their circles, it spread like a plague. Aiden had been missing since he was a child, and few knew much about him as he had been sequestered in the palace for most of his youth for his safety.


    It had only been when assassins had breached the Knights guarding him that they had sent him overseas for his protection, which had ended in supposed tragedy.


    The astonishing return of the Prince just when his father was about to lose the throne was seen skeptically by many of the nobles who sensed a trick by the King. Many doubted the veracity of this rumour, thinking that, if it were true, the King had found an imposter in a desperate attempt to retain the Crown.


    Such doubts only spurred the whispers more, and the rumour flew to all corners of the Kingdom, each becoming more fantastical in the retelling. Prince Aiden had returned. Prince Aiden was a fake. Prince Aiden had never left in the first place, and the King had hidden him his entire life. The King had prayed to the gods for Aiden''s return, and they had answered.


    In the gardens of Duke Ellington, nephew of the King of Anglia, a group of noble lords and ladies had gathered for a luncheon. This event was not in response to the rumours; in fact, it had been planned for many weeks.


    It occurred near the start of the ''Social Season,'' when the gentry returned to Londinium from their estates to socialize with their peers.


    There would be balls and parties, luncheons and events. It was also the perfect time for the young men and women of the Nobility to meet and possibly form relationships.


    This luncheon at the Duke''s just happened to coincide perfectly with the rumour of the Prince''s return and the first opportunity for those present to swap knowledge and gossip about a topic that was sweeping through the Kingdom.


    There were dozens of young lords and ladies, heirs to titles and newly promoted Knights. Wearing the finest dresses, the women looked beautiful in the warm sunlight of late spring. Shielded by parasols and by tall trees spreading their shade, their pale skin was well protected from the light.


    The men wore suits and coats despite the heat. With a faint glow of magical enchantments that spoke to their wealth and privilege, the spells on their clothing did nothing more than curb the temperature, yet they were expensive enough to be forever out of reach of commoners.


    Lady Matilda waved her small hand fan in front of her, more to show off the colourful painting she had designed on it by a famous artist than a real need to cool herself down. The painting was of a dove in exquisite detail, and she knew from the reactions of the ladies around her that they recognized it.


    Having accomplished her goal, she closed it with a snap and turned to her cousin.


    "So, is it true or not?" Matilda asked as she idly ran a hand across her hair to ensure that nothing was askew. Her maids had spent hours pinning it up, ensuring that each honey-brown lock was in its proper place. It perfectly matched her new green dress that she had custom-ordered just for this occasion.


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    As the daughter of a Baron and having just been ''introduced'' into the social circle of Nobility, this was her first real opportunity to mix with many of her peers. Not to mention that the Queen herself was going to be here!


    She wanted to make a good impression on everyone, especially the young men who were eyeing her slightly from across the garden as they chatted and enjoyed their drinks.


    Matilda''s cousin, Daphne, responded.


    Daphne was more quiet and reserved than her cousin. Preferring her family''s rural estate over the bustle, intrigue and endless chatter of Londinium; it had been several years since she had been presented to the King and Queen. She could have been said to be a veteran of the Social Season, provided she actually cared about it.


    Daphne merely shrugged at the question as she idly swirled the tea in her cup, barely paying attention to the events around her. She flat-out ignored the young men who kept trying to catch her eye; each of them was a buffoon, in her opinion.


    If Matilda was prim, perfect and pretty, then Daphne was effortless, beautiful, and uncaring about it. Talented in magic, she studied at the University of Londinium for several years before her familial duties had taken precedence. Now, she split her time between helping her family manage the estate and unlocking the secrets of the magical world.


    She was only here because her father despaired that his only child would never have a family of her own, and she didn''t want to disappoint him any more than necessary.


    With a sigh, Daphne set down her teacup on its saucer.


    "I don''t know. Perhaps the Queen will tell us when she arrives." Daphne replied, not needing to ask what her cousin meant by her question. It was obvious to everyone what rumour Matilda was referring to.


    "You''ll need to wait awhile longer. The Queen just sent word that she won''t be coming. There is a family matter requiring her attention at the palace." A young man said as he practically threw himself into the chair next to Daphne.


    Where Matilda was prim and proper, with no piece of hair or article of clothing out of place, her brother Marten was the opposite. He was handsome, but he hadn''t shaved in several days. While perfectly tailored and made of the finest materials, his clothing had several buttons undone and was creased as if he had slept in them.


    But, like Daphne, Marten didn''t care what others thought. His sword skills had made him one of the King''s Knights, and many could forgive his rough appearance if it meant they could make use of his abilities.


    "A family matter! Then it''s true!" Matilda was practically bouncing in her chair with excitement. A lost Prince, returning home after so many years. It was like something from a fairy tale. Marten had a strange look on his face at her statement, something out of place enough that Daphne noticed.


    "What do you know, Marten?" Daphne inquired. She was curious about what could make Marten take an interest in gossip. He never was one to tell tales or care much about the Londinium rumour mill. A family matter was a vague reason for the Queen not to attend today''s luncheon.


    Did Marten know something more about the Lost Prince''s return?


    When Marten didn''t answer, Matilda''s eyes narrowed as she stared daggers at her brother.


    "Spill it, or I''ll tell Father that you''ve taken a fascination with Abigail Waterton! He''ll have you married off to her in a heartbeat!" Matilda threatened, and this time, Marten flinched at her words. He and Abigail were like fire and water; they had been at odds since they were children.


    Marten had to admit to himself that Matilda couldn''t have found a better threat to use against him. Downing his glass of liquor and feeling the satisfying burn as it went down his throat, Marten set his glass down on the table and nodded.


    "Fine. You''ll get word soon enough, so no harm if I tell you both now. The rumours are true; Prince Aiden is back. He should have just arrived at the palace a little while ago. No one aside from the Queen and a handful of others even knew he was still alive." Marten said, his voice dropping to a near whisper so that only Daphne and Matilda could hear him.


    Matilda was almost giddy with delight while Daphne frowned at the revelation.


    "What about Alfred?" Daphne asked. She didn''t know the young prince well; they had only interacted with each other a few times. He was often bedridden and a few years younger than her. The few times she had seen him, she had been struck by how small and frail he appeared for his age.


    "What about him? He was never going to be Crown Prince anyway. He''s probably relieved his brother is back, ready and able to take the throne. But that doesn''t matter. It''s Aiden we all need to be concerned with." Marten shivered slightly as a flash of worry shot across his face.


    "Why?" Daphne asked before her cousin eclipsed her voice.


    "You¡¯ve seen him!? What¡¯s he like?!¡± Matilda exclaimed, flushing red when she saw that the men and women at other tables turned to look at their group. Ashamed, she lowered her voice and asked again.


    ¡°Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying. There¡¯s more mana in him than any mage or Knight I¡¯ve ever seen. He looks like he¡¯s been to hell, slaying demons, and only came back to Earth because there was nothing left there to kill. I don¡¯t know where the King found Prince Aiden, but it may have been best if he had left him there.¡±

 Chapter 135 – Floor 12: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 135</u> ¨C Floor 12: Part 4


    ¡°This is a farce! I will have no part in supporting such nonsense!¡±


    The King and Queen were currently in the Palace, sitting on their thrones in the grand hall. Below them gathered many of the more prominent Lords and Ladies of the Realm for the announcement of Prince Aiden¡¯s return.


    The crowd erupted once the King had told those assembled that his oldest son was alive and well and had recently returned from his protective solitude in the Americas. They had expected an outburst, but this display exceeded their worst imagining.


    The Nobility, even those that had once strongly supported the Royal House, had grown accustomed to new authorities that the failing Athurian Lineage had distributed to maintain the status quo and in the vain hope that such bribery would convince them to support Alfred.


    The King let out a sigh as the shouting continued, and Queen Margrit placed a comforting hand on her husband¡¯s arm.


    The Queen had been aware of the ritual dedicated to the gods. It had not been the first time they had attempted such a communion. They had even wasted multiple drops of the priceless Dragon¡¯s Blood beseeching the gods to return Aiden to life, only for the rituals to end in failure.


    It had been her idea to have the gods provide a substitute, an imposter of adequate strength and bearing to cover for the ailing Alfred until such a time that their young son could assume the mantle of Crown Prince.


    Neither the King nor Queen had expected it to work; they had assumed the ritual would fail as all the others had. Imagine her shock when she received a communication from her husband informing her that ¡®Aiden¡¯ had returned. Even in their private messages, the truth of the matter could never be revealed.


    As the din of shouting rose and Albrecht tried to wrangle the unruly Nobility into some semblance of order, Margrit recalled her first meeting with ¡®Aiden.¡¯


    She didn¡¯t know his true name, and the young man had no interest in providing her with it. He responded to ¡®Aiden¡¯ readily only because the gods had ordered him to complete the task set out before him.


    Margrit shivered as she fell into the memory of that morning.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Margrit walked briskly through the halls of the palace toward the wing where the royal family¡¯s private quarters were located. The King and his retinue had just returned from the north, their train arriving less than an hour ago.


    She had met Albrecht as soon as she could, their privacy assured by thick walls and magical enchantments. He had whispered to her a quick summary of the day''s events and what he knew of the young man who was now playing their son''s role.


    The gods had delivered to them a miracle, a being of immense strength and character that would be more than adequate to shield Alfred with his presence. The couple''s short time was not nearly long enough to go over everything, but it would be suspicious if Margrit delayed meeting ¡®Aiden¡¯ for too long.


    Albrecht left her then to inform their closest allies of their son''s return and to prepare for a meeting with the Lords and Ladies of the Realm. Such a meeting was not rare, but the King correctly assumed that news of Aiden¡¯s return was already sweeping through Londinium.


    Even the thickest walls and most potent enchantments were weak against the power of Gossip.


    Margrit unnecessarily smoothed her dress for the third time since she set out from her room to her eldest son''s quarters. The young man, who Margrit must remember to always address as ¡®Aiden,¡¯ had left the train escorted by a cadre of Knights directly to his quarters.


    No one had interacted with him since. After hearing what the young man was capable of, incapacitating the king''s own bodyguard with a single spell, she thought it was best to limit the public¡¯s interactions with him until she got a better sense of ¡®Aiden¡¯ proclivities.


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    Following the Queen was her personal maid and a single bodyguard. A trusted Knight, he was one of the men present during the ritual, already privy to the secret of Aiden¡¯s origins.


    The Knight knocked briskly on the door before pushing open the heavy wooden portal and entered Aiden¡¯s room, and Margrit was greeted with the first sight of her new ¡®son.¡¯


    He was sat on a chair at a small writing desk, a cup of tea in one hand and a thick book in the other. He seemed to have been engrossed in what was written there. A Modern History of Anglia, Margrit recognized the volume immediately and correctly assumed that Albrecht had provided the young man with a collection of books to understand the world he now inhabited.


    Aiden, she made a firm effort to attach the name to the man in front of her, was younger than she expected. He was perhaps eighteen or nineteen, with flawless features. He had dark hair that was long enough that the ends brushed his shoulders and bright blue eyes that lifted and locked onto hers as soon as she entered.


    He was handsome and healthy, and Margrit had no doubt that the Ladies of Londinium would swoon when they lay eyes on him.


    If it wasn¡¯t for the terrifying aura the young man exuded, matched by a set of eyes that seemed to peer into her soul, looking for secrets and threats.


    Margrit had seen dangerous men and women before. Knights and mages that had fought the Demi-Beasts that were threatening to overwhelm their colonies in the Americas. They had a look about them that spoke of their experience, and they retained an aura of violence.


    But whatever this young man had seen and done made them pale in comparison. The feeling he gave her was that of a wolf trapped in a small room. Its owners may think it is tame and safe, but the wolf knows that at any moment, it could kill everyone present and escape. It just chose to stay confined.


    ¡®Aiden¡¯ locked eyes with her for a moment, freezing her in place, before looking away and slowly closing his book. Placing both the historical volume and his cup of tea on the writing, he leaned back in his chair.


    The things one notices when under stress are odd. ¡®Aiden¡¯ didn¡¯t use a saucer for his tea, a faux pas in noble society. His coat, perfectly tailored and bearing the crest of their House, was unbuttoned causally. He appeared to not care about his status or those around him.


    Aiden made no effort to stand, to rise from his seat as the monarch entered the room. Her Knight bodyguard flushed red in anger at the disrespect and was about to speak when Margrit interrupted him.


    ¡°You may leave us.¡± She said, and the Knight hesitated before giving a jerking bow. Her maid and the man left, leaving her alone with her ¡®son.¡¯ The young man assessed her for a moment, taking in her clothing, the rings on her fingers and the jewellery around her neck as she sat in a chair across from him.


    ¡°Queen Margrit. I recognize you from your picture. ¡± Aiden said, nodding in greeting as he tapped the book with a finger.


    Margrit was surprised by his accent. It was different than any she had heard before. It was not Anglian or the familiar dialect of the Americas, where their colonies had dozens of different groups from all over Europe.


    ¡°Before we begin, I would let you know that we may not speak as freely as I wish in the palace. I trust your father has briefed you on the security concerns?¡± Margrit replied, implying that the walls had ears here and that everything they said would carry beyond the two of them.


    Aiden nodded, letting out a sigh as he rubbed his forehead tiredly.


    ¡°I hate this sort of thing.¡± Aiden said, sounding like an old man forced to do things that he should have stopped having to be a part of decades before. Margrit was slightly amused, thinking that for someone so young, he was talented at mimicking his elders.


    ¡°What sort of thing would that be?¡± Margrit asked with curiosity.


    ¡°Intrigue. Politics. Backstabbing. If someone wants to kill me, just try it already. There¡¯s no need to be tip-toeing around in the dark.¡± Aiden said before letting out a deep sigh. With a fake smile plastered on his face, he turned to her.


    ¡°Mother! How wonderful to see you after so many years! How are you? I¡¯m well, thanks!¡± Aiden said loudly toward the door, ensuring that others would hear. The polite smile on Margrit¡¯s face slipped, and she frowned at his actions.


    ¡°Good enough?¡± Aiden asked softly, clearly wanting to be rid of her so that he could return to his reading and solitude.


    ¡°Your father mentioned that your studies have been severely lacking. We will need to remedy that. Etiquette, dancing, music and art. We will need to round out your rough edges before releasing you into Noble Society.¡± Margrit responded crossly, and Aiden¡¯s piercing blue eyes returned to hers.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be fine amongst ¡®Noble Society.¡¯ I¡¯ll be the perfect Crown Prince.¡± Aiden replied with a grin that sent shivers down her spine.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°If you expect us to believe that the boy is your Heir and of your blood, then you won¡¯t have any problem with him taking up your sword?¡± Lord Rosen said calmly, his voice cutting through the din. Albrecht locked eyes with the Lord, pausing for a moment before nodding.


    ¡°No, I have no doubts. Let Excalibur decide if Aiden is worthy to be Crown Prince. We will assemble in the Grand Cathedral tomorrow, where you will all see that he is my son!¡± Albrecht said loudly, his voice carrying across the room.


    Beside him, Margrit frowned at the statement. Excalibur was Anglia''s most powerful magical item, one that only the Arthurian Bloodline could wield. By using this sword, Arthur united Anglia and drove the Demi-Beasts back across the sea.


    It would kill anyone not worthy of it. Even with the Arthurian Blood, many had been burned away by its power when attempting to prove themselves.


    Could the young man brought to them by the gods withstand such a fate?

 Chapter 136 – Floor 12: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 136</u> ¨C Floor 12: Part 5


    The Grand Cathedral was located in the heart of Londinium. It lived up to its name, made of white stone and accented with silver and marble. Its dome, which dominated the city¡¯s skyline, was topped with a majestic statue of a Griffin, exquisitely detailed in gold.


    The announcement of Prince Aiden¡¯s return had been a momentous occasion in Londinium; with the rumours having been finally confirmed, the populace was eager to see the Lost Prince. Tens of thousands had gathered outside the cathedral, while thousands of nobles, wealthy merchants, and the kingdom¡¯s elite were already seated inside.


    The Nobility, never ones to let an occasion pass without a chance to show off, wore their finest clothing and jewelry. The air practically sizzled with mana as the wealth of enchanted items amongst those in attendance glowed with energy.


    At the head of the cathedral¡¯s hall sat the King and Queen. Regal and dignified, they wore crowns that symbolized their positions. Encrusted with jewels and rare materials, the centrepiece of the crowns drew the eye the most. Crystalized Aether, enough to drive nearly anyone insane with greed, glinted in the light.


    The Crystal Aether used in both crowns came from a single piece, separated and carved into smooth ovals, and carefully fixed into place during the time of Arthur and Guinevere. So priceless were the items that they were locked away in a vault, only taken out and worn during the most important of occasions.


    The King looked at ease, leaning back on his throne as if he knew what would happen was a mere formality. On the other hand, the Queen looked paler than normally to those who knew her the most. She was obviously nervous, but the crowd took it as a mother¡¯s fear for her son.


    They had discussed the risks with Aiden the night before, such as how wielding the Sword ¡®Excalibur¡¯ would destroy anyone not of Arthurian Blood. Even with that fated lineage, many contenders for the throne died. This is a significant reason why Alfred could not be Crown Prince.


    He would never survive this trial.


    But Aiden seemed confident. After listening to their concerns and the details of the challenge to come, he asked a few questions regarding the nature of the magical sword and how it came to be given to Arthur.


    Then, he had done something rather odd. He seemed to hear a noise that no one else was aware of. He had raised his wrist and read some invisible missive quietly for a moment before nodding and lowering his arm. It was at that point he said that he had no choice but to take up the sword and that the gods were confident he would succeed.


    Neither the King nor the Queen could argue with that.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Daphne felt Matilda fidget in her seat next to her, either in impatience at the wait or because of the uncomfortable wooden pew. Her cousin was fanning herself forcefully with her beloved white fan, allowing those near her to see the dove painted on the front.


    Both of the women had worn new dresses for this occasion, Matilda in a light blue and Daphne in a cream colour. With large, matching hats, they fit in perfectly with the other lords and ladies present. Next to her, Daphne¡¯s parents were speaking quietly to another couple while her aunt and uncle were stoically waiting for the event to begin.


    Daphne wasn¡¯t sure who Matilda took after; the energetic young woman had her mother¡¯s looks, but neither of her parents matched her personality.


    Daphne¡¯s uncle, Matilda¡¯s father, was older than her father and had once been a Knight of great renown when he was younger. After inheriting the title from his father, he withdrew from the wars against the Demi-Beasts to manage the estate. It was up to his son, Marten, to take up his role.


    Curious, Daphne looked around once again for her cousin, Marten, but didn¡¯t see him. He was one of the Knights who would be escorting Prince Aiden to the Cathedral, and his arrival would declare that the ceremony would soon start.


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    Turning her attention away from the crowd and her fidgeting cousin, Daphne looked at the object at the front of the Grand Cathedral. As a trained mage, Daphne was sensitive to the fluctuations of mana. She could ¡®see¡¯ it in her mind¡¯s eye, a glow or colourful light that let her judge the power of a person or object by the amount of mana inside it.


    To her eyes, the front of the Grand Cathedral was nearly blinding. If it wasn¡¯t for the wards and protective enchantments that shielded the crowd, it would affect everyone here. Thankfully, she could study the magical item through the wards without worry.


    It was the legendary sword ¡®Excalibur.¡¯ The steel blade, engraved with runes, was driven into a block of stone just as it had been when King Arthur pulled it free over a millennia ago. King Albrecht had returned it to its original position only a few hours ago.


    The block of stone had been in the royal vault since Albrecht pulled it free, just as his father had done before him, in an endless line back to the founding of Anglia. No one mentioned the deaths or failures that Daphne had studied during her time at university.


    Would Aiden pass the test, or would he fail?


    ¡°Finally! Get ready, he¡¯s coming!¡± Matilda whispered excitedly, stretching her neck to have a better look at the cathedral entrance and the prince''s arrival. She could hear music playing outdoors and the banging of a drum. The crowd was going wildly, and there was a roar of noise.


    The Knightly escort entered first, wearing magical armour and tabards featuring the Royal Griffin in gold and red. They looked intense and powerful; no man or woman showed a single hint of emotion, and they watched the crowd warily.


    ¡°There¡¯s Marten.¡± Matilda said, spotting her brother first. Daphne could hardly recognize him in his spotless and perfect uniform. He was clean-shaven, his hair combed, and his eyes were clear. He was taking his role seriously, and Daphne marvelled at the difference between him yesterday and today.


    The Knights snapped a salute to the King and Queen before separating into two lines on either side of the spectators. Marten was just ahead and to the side of Daphne and Matilda but refused to acknowledge the quick handwave his sister gave him. His eyes were locked at the entrance where the prince was now entering.


    The cathedral was as quiet as a tomb. Daphne could hear the crowd almost holding their breath in anticipation. They had heard so many rumours about Prince Aiden, and now was the time when they could finally confirm what was real.


    Daphne could hear the ringing sound of boots walking briskly on stone before a wave of foreign energy swept across everyone present. An oppressive atmosphere pervaded the cathedral, like a heavy weight pushing down on them.


    She was familiar with the feeling. The Knights and Mages who fought on the front lines of the war against the Demi-Beasts put off similar pressure, although not to this degree. It symbolized the body¡¯s readiness for battle and the cycling of mana within to increase strength and use magic.


    Rumours say that Aiden had returned from the Americas, where the battle against the Demi-Beasts was going poorly. It was logical to assume he had seen significant fighting in his time there.


    ¡®No wonder Marten described him as terrifying.¡¯ Daphne thought, using her own mana to shield herself from the oppression and relieve some of the pressure on her body. After a moment, she did the same for her cousin, allowing her to breathe more easily.


    The footsteps grew closer until Daphne was greeted with her first sight of Aiden, the Lost Prince. Next to her, Matilda drew in a deep breath.


    Aiden was of a similar age to Daphne, with long, black hair that curled slightly around his neck and bright blue eyes. His skin was pale and lacked a single imperfection. To Daphne and Matilda, he was one of the most handsome men they had ever seen. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were cold and focused.


    He had an air of power about him, and his body, while lean, was clearly well-defined and muscled. He moved gracefully across the cathedral floor, his steps light and quick, demonstrating a warrior¡¯s skill and agility. She had seen the Knight move in a similar way, always ready to move quickly and with purpose if danger presented itself.


    Prince Aiden wore the finest clothing, similar to the Knight''s tabards, only a full suit in black with red and gold highlights. The Royal Griffin symbol was prominently displayed on his front right breast pocket, while the cape draped across his shoulders bore his family¡¯s entire crest along its length that covered his back and reached the floor.


    While Matilda admired his looks, Daphne was struck by his mana. From what she could see with her mind¡¯s eyes, Aiden glowed more powerfully than either the King or any of the Knights present. Even the mages of the university would not be a match for the young man in front of him.


    His mana that cycled endlessly inside his body was responsible for the oppression the crowd felt as he prepared to wield Excalibur. Daphne recognized that, to the young man, gripping the magical sword would be similar to battle. He was likely not even aware of what his actions were doing to those present.


    Aiden stopped in front of the King and Queen. He seemed to ignore them and was focused entirely on the Sword buried nearly to its hilt in the chunk of stone. To Daphne¡¯s knowledge, Aiden should first kneel and receive the blessing of the King and Queen and the crowd''s admiration before attempting to grab the hilt of Excalibur.


    Instead, Aiden was standing upright, still like a statue, ignoring everyone around him as he stared at Excalibur.


    Clearing his throat, the King rose from his throne to speak.

 Chapter 137 – Floor 12: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 137</u> ¨C Floor 12: Part 6


    Mathew was too focused on the sword in the stone to worry about the crowd around him or the King and Queen sitting on their thrones. He could see the mana within the magical object, a swirling blue mass of energy that would sense his touch as a threat and try to destroy him.


    He had received a message from his silver wristband the night before informing him of an update to his objective. To prove himself and assume the role of ¡®Prince Aiden,¡¯ Mathew needed to seize Excalibur and pull it from its stone resting place.


    The King had spoken of the danger involved and how it required a specific bloodline; even then, it was a deadly challenge. But Mathew knew that if the gods had given him the task as an objective, it should be possible for him to complete it.


    It¡¯s not like he had a choice. If he refused to take the Sword, Mathew would be sent to a ¡®punishment¡¯ Floor for an indeterminable amount of time. He would likely die there.


    Drawing a deep breath, Mathew waited impatiently for the King to stop speaking. Only now did he realize what the older man was saying.


    ¡°-the legendary sword, Excalibur. Once free from the stone, Anglia will have her Crown Prince!¡± Albrecht finished loudly. While his words echoed off the walls of the Grand Cathedral, Mathew sensed that many of those assembled were less than pleased at the prospect of the King having an Heir.


    There was a smattering of polite applause and a few cheers, but they quickly died. Albrecht acted like the response didn¡¯t bother him as he sat on his throne and nodded to Mathew.


    ¡°You may proceed.¡± Albrecht said, and Mathew immediately walked toward the sword.


    With each step he took, the mana within him swelled. Like ocean waves striking the shore, the mana inside his body would ebb and flow. Each cycle the energy took through his body, from his torso to his limbs and head then back again, the mana would grow stronger.


    By the time Mathew was in front of the sword, he was at his peak. For the crowd behind him, the oppressive effect of his mana doubled, then tripled. Even Daphne, who was using all of her mana to shield her cousin and herself, was feeling the weight of ¡®Aiden¡¯s¡¯ power.


    Surrounded by a shimmering haze, Excalibur glowed with magic. It could sense Mathew¡¯s approach, and it, too, was gearing up for the battle to come. It would resist being used by an outsider with every shred of its being. The blade wasn¡¯t sentient; it merely possessed the ability to detect the Arthurian Bloodline.


    Mathew lacked their blood; he wasn¡¯t even from their world! The sword thought of him as a threat, regardless of his reason for being here or the task the gods had given him.


    The hilt of the sword was wrapped in rawhide, smoothed by centuries of use that even the magical enchantments couldn¡¯t prevent. But, despite its age, the blade was as sharp as the day it was forged. Its steel was mirror clear, only marred by runes that contained Aether.


    Taking a deep breath, Mathew slowly reached out his hand toward the hilt that stuck out of the grey stone. He could feel the crowd¡¯s anticipation and the quick flash of worry that passed across the king¡¯s face. The Queen grew paler as Mathew¡¯s fingers inched closer to the sword.


    With a final surge of mana in his chest, Mathew gripped the hilt. It felt like he was holding onto a piece of iron from the forge fire. It burned his skin, and he could hear his flesh sizzle, and a line of smoke rose from where he grasped the sword.


    Mathew screamed from the agony as the sword¡¯s mana swept through his hand, seeking to destroy him from within. Mathew responded by flooding it with his own, and a contest began inside Mathew¡¯s body as the two forces collided.


    Not willing to lose, Mathew grabbed the hilt with his other hand, and suddenly, there were two fronts to this new war. Mana flowed in both directions, with Mathew¡¯s power retreating at times as Excalibur¡¯s power pushed him back, only for Mathew to rally and drive his energy deep into the blade.


    To the crowd, this content of power and will was visible as a swirling vortex of energy that churned at the front of the Cathedral. The room filled with the smell of Aether, and a blue haze crept across the floor. Mathew¡¯s scream continued, echoing off the walls as even the crowd outside heard it.


    Mathew¡¯s yell started from agony but quickly changed to a roar of anger and determination as he fought the sword in his hands for control. Wind swept through the cathedral, blowing off hats from the assembled ladies and rattling the large, stained glass windows.


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    The oppressive feeling became worse, and many of the physically weak in the crowd collapsed. A storm began to gather over Londinium, dark clouds erupted with lightning, and heavy rain began to fall.


    As minutes passed, Mathew¡¯s yell began to fade as the vortex of wind and energy slowly died down. He was winning the contest between him and Excalibur. The blade wasn¡¯t powerful; it merely had the benefit of drawing on the strength provided by its connection to something stronger than itself. There was some being hidden behind it, feeding it mana.


    But Mathew had been through hell and back, gaining power beyond human understanding. Even with its outside help, the blade couldn¡¯t resist him, and with a final surge of energy, Mathew drove his mana into the heart of the Sword.


    He completely dominated it, seizing ownership of Excalibur so thoroughly that the outside presence was driven away. But before he could breathe a sigh of relief and attempt to recover, the outsider grasped his mind and pulled.


    To the assembled crowd, there was an intense flash of white light. It was so blinding that everyone was forced to cover their eyes as Aiden was no longer visible. He seemed to be consumed by light.


    Mathew tried to force the foreign entity that had seized his mind through the sword to release him, but he was unsuccessful. He could feel it pull, and the world suddenly lurched and turned. Mathew was falling forward as if the ground and sky had reversed.


    Up was down for a moment, and everything around him blurred. When Mathew recovered, he found that he was no longer in the Grand Cathedral. The sword¡¯s hilt was still in both of his hands, but the energy inside the blade was no longer there.


    Mathew stood before a vast, tranquil lake. The waters didn¡¯t show so much as a ripple; the surface was a mirror, reflecting the trees and lush landscape around it. As he watched, a figure slowly walked out of the water, graceful and beautiful.


    She wore a blue dress that matched her hair. Mathew instantly knew that this was the foreign presence he felt during his struggle against the sword. His body wasn¡¯t actually here; this woman had grasped his mind and dragged him to the lakeside.


    Mathew recognized her immediately.


    This was the Lady of the Lake, the mythical being that had given Arthur the sword in the first place. She had chosen the first King of Anglia to fight the tide of Demi-Beasts that threatened to destroy humanity.


    And it was the Lady of the Lake that Mathew would have to fight for ownership of Excalibur in order to fulfill his objective.


    ¡°You may relax your hold on Excalibur. False Aiden, the Imposter Prince of Anglia.¡± The Lady said, her voice as pleasant as the ringing of a bell. She had an almost sing-song way of speaking and a strange accent that Mathew had never heard before.


    He stood upright and released his grip on the sword-hilt. The blade was useless for now; the energy within it was gone, and Mathew wouldn¡¯t need to do anything more with it until he gained the Lady¡¯s approval.


    Or he killed her. He hoped it wouldn¡¯t come to that.


    ¡°Catchy title. Did you just come up with that now, or were you thinking about it since I arrived to your world?¡± Mathew asked, recovering some of his stamina as he caught his breath. The conflict with the sword had been draining, and if he was going to fight, he wanted to be ready.


    The Lady gave a small smile, and Mathew felt himself relax slightly. It seemed that this wasn¡¯t going to turn to violence.


    ¡°I was aware of you since you arrived. Opening a gate between worlds is not an event that can be hidden. But, I have been expecting someone from the Tower of Avarice since Albrecht announced his intention to beseech the gods for their assistance.¡± The Lady revealed, and Mathew¡¯s eyes widened in surprise.


    ¡°You¡¯re aware of the Tower and why I need the Sword to accomplish the task the gods gave me. So why am I here?¡± Mathew asked, gesturing to the lake and the environment around them.


    ¡°I need to know that you are worthy. Not just of the sword but of the lineage you seek to represent. Tell me, are you familiar with the virtues of Chivalry?¡± The Lady asked, and Mathew shrugged his shoulder.


    ¡°Not really. I read some books about Knights and Chivalry when I was in college, but it¡¯s all a little hazy. My memory of the time before the Tower isn¡¯t as clear as all the rest. I think there¡¯s something about faith and generosity.¡± Mathew finished lamely, and the Lady honoured him with another smile.


    ¡°In our world, Chivalry is the foundation of our society. Through the Chivalric Knightly Virtues, Arthur created a Kingdom and seized control of the land back from the Demi-Beasts. It is the basis of the King¡¯s rule, and, as Anglia¡¯s Crown Prince, you will be expected to uphold its tenets as well.¡± The Lady explained, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°I¡¯m not really interested in ¡®upholding¡¯ anything. You said it yourself; I¡¯m a fake. My job is just to take the heat off the real Prince until he¡¯s strong enough. I was told that I just need to accept being called ¡®Aiden,¡¯ take up that sword over there and draw as much attention as possible.¡± Mathew explained.


    ¡°False or not, you will still be wielding ¡®Excalibur.¡¯ You will be a living symbol of Chivalry for the people of Anglia. While it is true that your role here in our world is that of a cover for young Prince Alfred, there is no guarantee that he will ever be able to take the throne or fulfill the role that is required in the days to come.¡± The Lady said cryptically, and Mathew frowned.


    ¡°What¡¯s coming?¡± He asked.


    ¡°A beast tide. The Demi-Beasts to the North are amassing, and it will be up to you to lead the people of Anglia against them.¡± The Lady paused and then made a brushing aside motion with her hand.


    ¡°Enough questions; there will be time for answers later. For now, it is time to begin the Chivalric Trials.¡± The Lady said.


    ¡°Wait. Trials? As in multiple? I don¡¯t have time for this!¡± Mathew shouted, and the Lady made a flicking motion. Mathew¡¯s mind reeled once more, and his surroundings faded to black.

 Chapter 138 – Floor 12: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 138</u> ¨C Floor 12: Part 7


    Mathew felt a hand grip his shoulder and shake him. He felt exhausted, and his heavy eyelids refused to open. His mind slowly woke up, and his awareness of his surroundings gradually returned.


    ¡°Wake up. Hey, Mathew! Come on, buddy, you need to wake up.¡± A man¡¯s voice spoke, cutting through the fog that pervaded Mathew¡¯s consciousness and empowered him to open his eyes. The world slowly became focused, and Mathew saw an older, handsome man in a black business suit standing before him.


    Marshall Larson.


    ¡°Dad? What are you doing here?¡± Mathew asked, stifling a yawn as he lifted his head from his desk and leaned back in his office chair.


    His suit had a few new creases from where he had slept in an awkward position. The light reflected off his Rolex watch, a gift from his father, as Mathew raised his hand and ran it over his face and through his hair.


    ¡°I came to see how you were doing with the Henderson contract. I was worried that you were taking on too much. Seems like I was right. Did you have a good nap?¡± His father said, chuckling as he took a seat across from him.


    ¡°It was fine, just a little power nap. I was up all night reviewing the contract for anything we may have missed.¡± Mathew explained, and his father nodded. The document he had been reviewing was still on his desk, a thick file that contained thousands of pages. It was a massive and high-profile assignment for their Firm.


    Mathew didn¡¯t want to screw it up.


    ¡°Find anything?¡± Marshall Larson asked, glancing down at the open pages.


    ¡°A few small edits, nothing major.¡± Mathew said before wincing in pain. He had a massive headache as if he had been up all night drinking the night before rather than reading. There was something else, a feeling that he was forgetting something.


    It was damned odd, but before he could explore the feeling further, his father interrupted his thoughts.


    ¡°You alright?¡± Marshall asked in concern, and Mathew flashed him a small smile.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Mother Hen. Just a headache. I can¡¯t imagine how I could have gotten it; it''s not like I spent the morning sleeping on a hard wooden desk with a file folder as a pillow.¡± Mathew joked, and his father laughed.


    ¡°You need to take better care of yourself. Look at me, twice your age and fit as a fiddle! You should spend more time at the gym; a little more cardio will do you good.¡± Marshall advised, and Mathew snorted.


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re a paragon of healthy living. Except for the drinking and the cigars.¡± Mathew said, and his father flinched.


    ¡°That¡¯s different. I¡¯m trying to be healthy, not become a monk. I¡¯m just worried about you. All the work you¡¯ve been putting in. Your mother says you haven¡¯t been sleeping, and we just want you to be alright with everything that¡¯s happened with Emily.¡± Marshall responded.


    There was a delay in Mathew¡¯s response as he felt the weight of his father¡¯s eyes on him. Mathew let out a deep sigh before answering.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been having strange dreams. Weird stuff. I¡¯m not sure I know how to describe it.¡± Mathew confessed as a confusing stream of images rushed through his head. They were of him in fantastical lands and insane situations, fighting monsters and exploring alien worlds. He couldn¡¯t make sense of them.


    ¡°Maybe you should go back to the Doctor and talk to her about everything that¡¯s going on.¡± Marshall advised, and Mathew shrugged.


    ¡°I have an appointment today, actually. In the afternoon.¡± Mathew replied, glancing down at his watch to check the time. To his shock, the watch was gone and in its place was a silver wristband. The odd piece of jewelry was covered in symbols and glowed.


    Blinking his eyes in surprise, the silver bangle disappeared, and the Rolex was back where it belonged. Mathew rubbed his eyes. Maybe his Father was right; maybe he was working too hard, and things were starting to have an effect on him.


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    ¡°That¡¯s good. Make sure to tell her everything.¡±


    Marshall looked around for a moment before standing and carefully closing Mathew¡¯s office door. They were in the corner office of their law firm, a place that Mathew earned through hard work and, he had to admit, a small bit of nepotism.


    ¡°Listen, I want to run an idea by you. But, keep it between just the two of us.¡± Marshall said quietly, and Mathew had an unsettling feeling creep up his spine. There was something here, something that he was forgetting that seemed to be screaming at him. Something about a test and¡­ a knight?


    Mathew frowned, shook his head to rid himself of these errant thoughts, and focused on his father.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Mathew asked when the odd feeling finally subsided.


    ¡°We have an offer. Do you remember Ackley Electronics? We had a meeting with them last spring about a possible merger, and they wanted us to negotiate?¡± Marshall asked, and Mathew had to think a moment before nodding.


    ¡°Yeah, I recall that we turned them down after we found some ¡®discrepancies¡¯ in their accounts.¡±  Mathew replied, and this time, it was Marshal¡¯s turn to scoff.


    ¡°Call it what it is, son. They¡¯re crooks. I¡¯ve never seen books that cooked. There¡¯s ¡®creative accounting,¡¯ and there is whatever the hell they were doing. But they¡¯re well connected and rich, and they made us another offer. They want to place us on retainer.¡± Marshall said.


    That odd feeling returned, and Mathew shifted uncomfortably in his desk chair. It felt like there were eyes on his back, watching him.


    ¡°You¡¯re not seriously considering working with them, are you? Getting involved with a group like that is just asking for trouble.¡± Mathew replied, and Marshall raised a hand and made a calming motion.


    ¡°Hold on, you haven¡¯t heard the offer. They just want you, it would be separate from the Firm, and the pay is¡­substantial.¡± Marshall explained. The feeling of eyes boring into Mathew¡¯s back grew stronger, and Mathew couldn¡¯t help but glance around to see if someone was with them.


    But the office was empty, and his father was waiting for an answer. Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°I¡¯m not putting my career at risk for them.¡± Mathew replied, and he thought he could hear a faint voice whispering in his ear.


    ¡®Honour. The Knight lives by honour and for glory.¡¯ The voice hissed on the soft edge of his hearing, slowly fading until Mathew thought it was his mind imagining it.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. I just thought I would run it past you.¡± Marshal said, holding up both of his hands in defeat and slowly standing.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, Mattie. We¡¯re having lunch at noon, my treat.¡± His father said with a smile as he left Mathew¡¯s office.


    He had only just returned to his pile of papers when Mathew heard a knock on his door. It was Cheryl, one of the office administrators. She had a folder tucked under one arm and a small box in her hand.


    ¡°Hey, Cheryl! What can I do for you?¡± Mathew asked, looking up from his desk and smiling at her. Cheryl had been with the firm for decades and was a huge help when he started. He couldn¡¯t imagine getting through his time here without her.


    ¡°Hey Mathew, I¡¯m sorry to bother you. Are you busy?¡± Cherly asked, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°No, not at all. Come in; what can I help you with?¡± Mathew replied as he flipped over the document he was reading on his desk and focused his full attention on her as Cheryl stepped further into his office.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m collecting on behalf of my daughter. I don¡¯t know if you are aware, but she¡¯s recently been ill, and I¡¯m afraid the medical expenses have been increasing. I was hoping you could donate?¡± Cherly asked hopefully, and Mathew immediately reached into his pocket and pulled out the bundle of bills there.


    ¡°Of course.¡± He said, quickly counting the money. As he did so, that strange feeling returned, stronger than before. Mathew could feel the eyes judging him, and the faint voice whispered in his ear once more as he handed over the folded bills.


    ¡®Generosity. A Knight gives succour to those in need.¡¯ It spoke, and Mathew¡¯s headache grew worse. Clutching his head, Mathew squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.


    ¡°Thank you, Mathew. Are you alright? Do you need anything?¡± Cheryl asked in concern, only for Mathew to shake his head.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Just a headache. You¡¯re more than welcome, Cheryl. I hope your daughter gets well soon.¡± Mathew said politely as the woman left his office. Taking a deep breath, Mathew stood and walked around in the hope that it would relieve his headache.


    What was happening? Did he need to go see a doctor?


    Mathew walked to the window, hoping the Manhattan skyline view would help, when he suddenly froze in shock. There was something on the horizon, an unfamiliar building he had never seen before in Central Park.


    He had lived in New York his entire life and was as familiar with the city as his own hands. He had never seen the Tower, shining silver and glass, that rose above the trees before in his life.


    ¡°What is that? Arrggh!¡± Mathew screamed and collapsed to his knees as his headache worsened. Along with the pain came more images from his dream, unfamiliar faces and landscapes. It felt like an entire lifetime of information was being forcefully pounded into his head like a hammer striking a nail.


    ¡®The Test of Chivalry must continue.¡¯ The voice whispered, and Mathew screamed in agony. Memories flooded his mind, and he suddenly knew who he was. Mathew understood what was happening and where he was.


    ¡°The gods damn you, Lady of the Lake! Stay out of my head!¡± Mathew roared, and his mana surged around him.

 Chapter 139 – Floor 12: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 139</u> ¨C Floor 12: Part 8


    The illusion shattered like a mirror being struck by a rock. Shards of magic struck the ground around the lake. The mirror-like surface of the water was finally disturbed; the mana Mathew was exuding pushed everything away, and large waves formed and crashed against the shore.


    The Lady of the Lake had focused her mind and magic on forming an entire world in which to test Mathew¡¯s character.


    The power of the magical sword and what it symbolized could not be given to someone of unknown qualities. She was responsible for ensuring that anyone who took the throne of Anglia would do what was best for the Kingdom.


    With her focus entirely on crafting the illusion, Mathew''s resulting explosive outburst of mana took her entirely by surprise. Defenceless, she was thrown backwards and landed heavily on the soft, grass-covered ground.


    Mathew opened his eyes, and the illusion that had clouded his sight was gone. In its place was the lake and its Lady. The air vibrated with the mana radiating from his body, and his eyes locked onto the Lady of the Lake just as she climbed back to her feet.


    He was beyond angry, infuriated at this creature. It wasn¡¯t just that she had ripped his consciousness away and locked him into some sort of dream world that he had no control over. Or the fact that he had lost his memories while he was there.


    No, what pissed him off the most was that she dared to bring him home. It had been decades since he had been to his Earth, had seen his family or those closest to him. And now, the Lady of the Lake had dangled that life in front of him as some kind of test.


    ¡°How dare you!¡± Mathew hissed out through teeth clenched together in rage.


    He could barely keep a reign of his emotions. He had been home, had seen his father, and it had all been a lie! She had used his own mind against him, sullied one of the last memories he had of Marshall Larson in order to test him!


    The Lady of the Lake climbed back to her feet. If Mathew¡¯s display of power scared her, she didn¡¯t show it.


    ¡°I had to know if you were worthy. Anglia needs-¡± Mathew¡¯s shouted response cut her off.


    ¡°Damn Anglia! You had no right! I should burn this place to the ground and you with it!¡± Mathew yelled, his hand clenched into a fist so tightly that his skin was white.


    ¡°Do that, and you will fail your quest. The gods have brought you here for a reason, and the test of Chivalry was the only way to fulfill it. You have passed the tests of Charity and Honour. Only the Tests of Kindness, Justice and Loyalty remain. You just need to submit to me.¡± The Lady said, her dress blowing gently in the wind from the storm that Mathew¡¯s rage was generating. Mathew stared at her for a moment before shaking his head.


    ¡°Submit.¡± Mathew muttered, and the Lady nodded.


    ¡°It¡¯s the only way that you may gain control of the Sword of Excalibur. I will not release my hold over it until I know that you can be trusted.¡± The Lady of the Lake said. Mathew thought for a moment, the rage burning inside him.


    He kept thinking of home, of his father and mother. Would he see them again if he let her enter his memories? Would he see New York and his friends? Would he see Emily?


    The thought of seeing her again was almost painful after so many years. He had entered the Tower to find her, to help her achieve her dream of saving her mother. It had been decades, and he was no closer to finding her. He didn¡¯t even know if she was still alive.


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    ¡°No. I won¡¯t let you back inside my head.¡± Mathew said.


    The Lady looked at him with a mixture of pity, sadness and understanding. She began to walk back toward the Lake; the water lapped around her ankles as she spoke to him again.


    ¡°Then you will never gain control of the sword. I find you unworthy to wield Excalibur.¡± She stated, and Mathew felt power enter the blade still buried to the hilt in the stone. It was a monumental amount of mana, a torrent that dwarfed what had been present inside it before.


    She took a final look at Mathew before continuing to wade into the waters of her lake. It had reached nearly up to her shoulders when Mathew finally moved. He walked toward the blade and grasped the hilt once more.


    A searing pain shot up his arm; the heat of magic inside Excalibur burned his palm. The force of mana inside the blade rushed toward him, intent on devouring anyone not worthy to hold it. The Lady once again stopped, her blue eyes staring at him. They matched the colour of the lake water.


    ¡°It¡¯s useless. I do not approve of you.¡± She called out in a final attempt to dissuade Mathew.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need, or want, your approval.¡± Mathew said as he let Excalibur¡¯s mana burn his palm.


    ¡°You¡¯re just like the gods, always needing everything to be on your terms. Wanting us to kneel and grovel, to beg for scraps like dogs. You act like you have the right to enter my mind, to change my memories and manipulate my emotions because you think I need you. That I need your ¡®permission¡¯ to take what¡¯s already mine.¡± Mathew said, slowly reaching over with his other hand and gripping the sword.


    The mana inside Excalibur, sensing weakness and a new opportunity to achieve victory, threw itself against Mathew once more. He didn¡¯t move; he let It gather calmly while he focused on what he needed to do next.


    The Lady of the Lake felt a chill travel down her spine as she watched the young man seize the sword without flinching or reacting. She knew how powerful the blade was, how her mana surged through it. It was a destructive force that not many in Anglia could use even with her permission. Without it, grasping Excalibur was madness.


    ¡°But I learned something during my time in the Tower, from observing the gods and their Apostles.¡± Mathew said, and the wind around him strengthened. A storm gathered in the formerly blue skies above the lake. The waves violently crashed on the shore and the Lady of the Lake could do nothing to calm them.


    ¡°I learned that if you want something that another doesn¡¯t want you to possess, you can just take it as long as you have overwhelming strength.¡± Mathew whispered.


    ¡°Something like a sword. Or a life.¡±


    Mathew¡¯s mana, fueled by anger and determination, blazed through his chest and limbs as he cycled it to enhance his strength and protect his body from the effects of Excalibur. Planting his feet firmly, he tightened his hands on the hilt of the sword and pulled.


    Mathew hurled his mana into the hilt as he tried to raise the sword from the stone it was trapped in. He pushed back the mana inside the magical object and ripped control of the sword from the Lady of the Lake. Her hold of the sword crumbled, along with her mana.


    The Lady of the Lake stared at the storm in the sky and the man who caused it with awe and dread. A vortex of mana swirled around him as Mathew¡¯s muscles bulged, his Blessing transforming his flesh to enhance his strength.


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡± The Lady whispered as the sword budged an inch in its earthen prison. The runes on the blade glowed, first blue to symbolize the Lady¡¯s control, before turning red as Mathew¡¯s foreign mana dominated it.


    She felt her control loosen, and when she tried to recover, it felt as if she were trying to throw water against an iron wall. The young man was unstoppable. With a final pull, she lost complete control over Excalibur.


    Mathew let out a roar that echoed across the lake; his face flushed red, and veins stood out as he pulled. Slowly, inevitably, the blade was drawn from the stone. The Lady had a final view of Mathew, the sword gripped in both hands before a flash of white light took him away.


    ¡®What kind of monster had the gods unleashed onto Anglia?¡¯ The Lady thought as she sank beneath the surface of her lake.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The flash of light consumed the entire interior of the Grand Cathedral. A force of wind and mana blew through the building, shattering the stained glass windows. The storm raged overhead, the clouds as dark as night and rain pelted Londinium.


    When the light finally faded, Daphne and the others saw Prince Aiden standing triumphantly before the stone holding Excalibur. The blade itself was in his hands, raised overhead as it glowed a bright red from the runes carved on the steel.


    If there were any doubts regarding the Prince¡¯s origins or strength, they were shattered by the display of power. The oppressive feeling he gave slowly faded as the rain stopped and the clouds overhead began to disperse. The crowd surged to its feet to get a better look at the Prince.


    The Cathedral was stunned into silence; no one spoke until the King climbed to his feet. Looking at Aiden and the sword in his hands, he turned to the crowd and shouted.


    ¡°Behold, your Crown Prince. Aiden!¡±


    Daphne was deafened by the roaring of the crowd around her.

 Chapter 140 – Floor 13: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 140</u> ¨C Floor 13: Part 1


    Mathew stood and listened to the shouts of the crowd in front of them. Many of them were screaming in excitement at his achievement, but he spotted a few faces amongst the throng that clearly looked like they wished he had failed and had become a pile of ashes instead of the Crown Prince of Anglia.


    The magical sword in his hands glowed his power; his mana had completely driven out any lingering presence of the Lady of the Lake. She would return in time if he relinquished control of the sword to allow another to grasp it. Such as Alfred when the time came.


    But for now, it was his.


    Burning letters appeared above the blade, and Mathew read them as they hovered in the air.


    Item: Excalibur, the Sword of the Kings of Anglia.


    Item Description: Pulled from stone, wielding Excalibur is required for one to become Crown Prince and, eventually, King of Anglia. Forged from iron pulled from deep beneath Anglia and infused with magic by the Lady of the Lake, only the worthy may wield this blade.


    Item Properties: {Indestructible} {Sharp} {+3 Body, +3 Mind, +Spirit}


    Mathew was impressed with the increased stats the item provided. As long as it was linked to him, he would enjoy the benefits, provided he had the sword on his person. If he placed it in his inventory, the enhancements would be lost, albeit temporarily.


    Breathing heavily from his efforts against the Lady of the Lake, Mathew slowly lowered his sword as the King stood and shouted.


    ¡°Behold, your Crown Prince. Aiden!¡± He bellowed, and the noise of the crowd surged once more. He could practically feel the ground shake from the amount of voices screaming. Mathew was about to turn to the King and say his required piece of the ceremony, acknowledging his new title and responsibilities, when a loud ¡®Ding¡¯ rang out.


    Heard only by him, the noise was accompanied by a vibration from his wristband and a new message delivered from the Tower.


    Floor 12: A King''s Quest {Complete}


    Summary: A King has paid a significant price to have you brought to his kingdom to become the Crown Prince of Anglia. You have accomplished that goal. Prepare to depart Floor 12 immediately.


    Reward: One ''Rare'' class magical Item {Excalibur has been added to your inventory.}


    ¡®What?¡¯ Mathew asked silently in confusion as he felt the Tower begin to ¡®tug¡¯ on his body. In the distance, hidden from the eyes of everyone present except for himself, the familiar elevator rose from the ground. The silver doors on its front open, spilling white light onto the ground.


    ¡®That¡¯s it?¡¯ Mathew thought to himself as he looked around the Cathedral. No one noticed that he was about to leave. How would they react when their ¡®Crown Prince Aiden¡¯ disappeared with their kingdom¡¯s magical sword, never to return again?


    The ¡®tug¡¯ immediately ceased, and a strange thing occurred. The message began to scramble; the words melted, replaced by others. It almost looked like something was interfering, forcefully changing the message. The elevator in the distance winked out of existence, and Mathew read the new message in confusion.


    Floor 13: A Kingdom Besieged.


    Summary: The Kingdom of Anglia has long been under siege by the forces of Demi-Beasts and monsters from the North. As their Crown Prince, it is up to you to lead the forces of Anglia against them and free them from this threat.


    Reward: None.


    Mathew blinked in confusion at the new message. The font was different than any other notification he had received in the past. Did this message come from a different god, one that had interfered with his progress through the Tower?


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    He had no one to ask, and it faded away when he finished the message. Was there something happening in the Tower?


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Daphne watched as Prince Aiden stared out over the crowd and lowered the sword in his hands. The wind generated by his mana had stopped, and the skies outside had cleared, finally allowing the sun to shine once more through the shattered, stained glass windows.


    To Daphne, it seemed as if the Prince was distracted by something. His eyes wandered to the side of the Cathedral, flicking back and forth quickly before widening slightly in surprise. When it came time for him to reply to the King, to repeat the oath and swear to serve the Kingdom of Anglia, the Prince hesitated before speaking.


    ¡°I do solemnly swear to serve and defend the Kingdom of Anglia to the best of my abilities.¡± Aiden said before sheathing his newly acquired sword at his hip and marching his way out of the Cathedral with the Knights following closely behind.


    ¡°Can you believe how handsome he is? He will be in search of a bride. This is our chance, Daphne!¡± Matilda squealed in delight, and Daphne couldn¡¯t help but roll her eyes as she patiently waited for the crowd to clear so that they could return to their carriage.


    The ceremony may have ended, but the day was far from over. The Nobility would be expected at the palace, where a Ball and other festivities would last until tomorrow. The Prince would be in attendance, greeting everyone and mingling.


    Daphne had no interest in dancing or mingling. But she wanted to see more of Prince Aiden. As a trained Mage of the University, she could see his potential. There was likely no one more powerful than him in all of Londinium, with the exception of the King and the Grand Archmagi of the University.


    While the pair waited, Daphne saw Marten making his way slowly after the Prince. He had been part of the retinue that had escorted Aiden in, so, of course, he would ensure that the Prince made it safely to the palace.


    Although, with a monstrous power like Aidens, did he truly need Knights to protect him?


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Albrecht let out a relieved sigh as soon as he and Margrit were in the privacy of their carriage. Free from courtiers, servants and other prying eyes, it was one of the only chances they had to speak without restrictions before they returned to the palace.


    ¡°That went better than expected.¡± Albrecht said as he thought about the display of power ¡®Aiden¡¯ showed at the Grand Cathedral. He had overpowered Excalibur, a feat he knew was nearly impossible for even himself, and he demonstrated to all the major powers of Anglia that he was more than capable of being the Crown Prince.


    ¡°He seemed troubled at the end.¡± Margrit stated. She had noticed the distraction Aiden showed after pulling the sword and how quickly he wanted to be away from the crowd.


    ¡°Perhaps his confrontation with the Lady of the Lake went poorly.¡± Albrecht replied, and Margrit nodded.


    ¡°Of that, I have no doubt. Will she make things difficult for Alfred when it comes time for his trial?¡± Margit inquired.


    ¡°She is not one to hold a grudge. Once Aiden demonstrates the necessity of what he had done, in full compliance with the wishes of the gods, she will be amenable.¡± Albrecht predicted.


    Margrit was about to speak when the carriage came to a sudden halt. There were muffled voices outside, muted slightly by the thick walls and enchantments of the carriage. After a slight commotion, there was a knock at the door before it was thrown wide open.


    Aiden stood on the street outside, his figure darkened to the King and Queen by the harsh light of the sun. Not hesitating foir a moment, he turned to the driver and ordered him to continue before closing the door and taking a seat across from his ¡®parents.¡¯


    ¡°We have a problem.¡±


    Aiden filled them in on everything that happened during the ceremony but only briefly touched on his interactions with the Lady of the Lake. He brushed off their inquiries regarding the trials and focused on what happened after.


    ¡°You received a new message from the gods?¡± Albrecht asked with concern. During the ritual, he made it clear that he wanted a champion who could fulfill the role of Crown Prince until Alfred was ready.


    If the gods were changing their agreement¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if it was from them, but it''s binding to the Tower. However, it was different from any of the other messages I received. But that shouldn¡¯t be what you need to be worried about. The Demi-Beasts will be gathering to the North, and I will be expected to lead your armies against them.¡± Aiden revealed as the carriage made its slow journey down the streets of Londinium to the palace.


    ¡°Did the missive reveal a timeframe?¡± Albrecht asked.


    ¡°No, just that I will be expected to deal with the threat at some point. Whether that¡¯s tomorrow or a year from now¡­¡± Aiden shrugged. Margrit and Albrecht exchanged glances before returning to their ¡®son.¡¯


    ¡°Then, nothing has significantly changed. Your role as Crown Prince will require you to be part of the army; this just moves the timeline forward a bit. We will get through the next few weeks of the ceremony, and then you will be able to relocate to the Northern garrisons.¡± Albrecht replied.


    ¡°Can¡¯t I just go now?¡± Aiden asked. Margrit smiled, immediately understanding why the young man was so eager to go to the North.


    ¡°No, first you must dance and celebrate. Then, when every young lady of Londinium has danced with you, and you have shaken hands and greeted all the young lords, then you may go.¡± Margrit replied, and Aiden let out a groan of despair.

 Chapter 141 – Floor 13: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 141</u> ¨C Floor 13: Part 2


    The Palace was located only a short distance from the Grand Cathedral. When Mathew arrived with the King and Queen, he was escorted through the myriad of marble-floored hallways, through doors where Knights guarded, and servants bustled in preparation for that evening''s festivities.


    Mathew knew where he was going; the private rooms where the Royal family stayed were separate from most of the palace. He was looking forward to some privacy; even now, he could feel the eyes of everyone following him.


    He needed time to think, process what had happened, and recover from the Trial of Chivalry and the mana expenditure that claiming the magical sword required. Thankfully, Albrecht and Margrit understood, sending him off on his own with a reminder to be dressed and ready for the party by nightfall.


    Closing the door and blocking the servants and his escort of Knights outside, Mathew sank into a chair without bothering to remove his coat or his boots.


    What happened in the Tower for the Floor progression to change? He was sure that he was going to be catapulted onto the next floor, but strangely, an error occurred, and he was still there. Would it happen again when he defeated the Demi-Beasts to the North?


    Mathew wished there was someone he could talk to about it, someone who understood the Tower and could answer his questions. But aside from that young woman in the business suit who randomly showed up occasionally as he traversed the Floors, there was no one he could think of who was knowledgeable about the Tower.


    His only choice was to carry on and hope that whatever was happening in the Tower didn¡¯t affect him too much. With a tired sigh, he dragged his body to the bathroom, where a hot bath was waiting for him.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Marten assisted Daphne and Matilda down from the carriage as they arrived at the Palace. Their parents were in separate carriages only a few feet away, but Marten was responsible for escorting the two women to the ball.


    Publicly, his presence here ensured that his sister and cousin were cared for and protected during the ball. But secretly, his parents wanted him to reign in Matilda¡¯s excitement and ensure that Daphne didn¡¯t use her magic to harm any ¡®overly zealous suitors.¡¯


    Marten held Daphne¡¯s hand as she reached the ground, thanking him quietly as the keen young woman kept an eye on those in attendance. Marten was sure that not a single face went unnoticed, filed away in Daphne¡¯s mind for later use.


    He had attended the University as well, albeit for only the basic knowledge required for both a Knight and a future Lord, but he knew the sorts of things that a Magus would study there. Enhanced concentration, perfect memory and the ability to read a person¡¯s life story from a single expression.


    Marten only had rumours to go on about specifics, but it was enough to know that Daphne was someone not to be trifled with, knowledge that many of the young Lords of Londinium had personally experienced.


    Perhaps that was the reason that Daphne was still unattached after multiple seasons. He couldn¡¯t help but be relieved that his sister, Matilda, had shown not a single ounce of magical aptitude. Instead, she had a different sort of interest.


    Gossip. She was addicted to it. In their family¡¯s estate, hundreds of miles outside of the city, Matilda received letters from other young ladies about the latest news.


    Marten gave Daphne a small smile and a slight bow before helping Matilda down the steps of the carriage. Signalling the driver, he escorted the two young ladies up the path to the palace, where they joined hundreds of others.


    The sun was just setting, and the sky was a beautiful orange and red. The air was perfectly warm, lacking the chill of early spring or the full-on heat of summer. With a slight breeze to keep the bugs away, they couldn¡¯t have asked for a better night.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Thank you for escorting us, Marten. I know you would rather be a part of Prince Aiden¡¯s protection detail.¡± Daphne commented, smiling and waving at her parents from a little distance away. Marten let out a slight snort, coughing to hide it when he realized that it was rude of him to do so. Daphne quirked an eyebrow at her cousin.


    ¡°The Prince doesn¡¯t need protecting. Now you know why I said he was a monster.¡± Marten whispered, trusting his cousin not to reveal his disrespectful comments to anyone else. Daphne nodded.


    ¡°He is indeed. The Cathedral will need months of repairs, not to mention the effect it had on the crowd. Do you believe it was deliberate? That he wanted to send a message?¡± Daphne asked quietly as the trio made their way through the large, open doors and through the hallways to the rear gardens where the ball would be held.


    With the warmth of spring, it was felt that an open-air party was just the thing to shake off the depression of a long winter. The gardens were in full bloom, the air was filled with music and the smell of flowers. A dance floor had been constructed in the center for the occasion, with magical lights overhead to illuminate.


    It was beautiful.


    ¡°Perhaps. I have no doubt that the weakest amongst our peers are suitably cowed. But I doubt the Rosen¡¯s are going to just roll over and accept Aiden¡¯s return.¡± Marten remarked as he led them around the dance floor and to a discrete corner where they could observe the party first.


    The trio were busy, smiling and nodding as they greeted their peers. The crowd was a sea of colours, and the din of conversation nearly drowned out the musicians playing softly at the end of the dancefloor.


    The plan to blend in went out the window when Matilda spotted some of her friends and took off as quickly as a startled hare. Marten let out a huff and was determined to keep one eye on his sister while continuing his conversation with Daphne.


    ¡°But he has Excalibur. How can they deny him?¡± Daphne asked in surprise. Compared to Marten, who spent significantly longer in the capital, rubbing elbows with the elite, she was na?ve. Most of her time was spent studying at the University. She hadn¡¯t experienced the dark underbelly of Londinium Politics.


    ¡°You would be surprised what can be denied. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they made trouble tonight.¡± Marten observed. He noticed that there was a full contingent of Knights on the outskirts of the garden, well-armed and keeping an eye on things.


    Evidently, the King felt the same way as Marten in regards to the risk to Aiden¡¯s safety. Daphne felt nervous, suddenly imagining assassins in every corner. When he noticed the young woman¡¯s discomfort, Marten let out a small laugh.


    ¡°It won¡¯t be knives in the back, dear cousin. If anything, I would expect a formal challenge, perhaps a duel over some imagined slight.¡± Marten said, taking a glass from a passing servant and downing the strong liquor in a single swallow.


    Grimacing at the intense burn, he motioned for another. He didn¡¯t like going to a party sober; it set a bad precedent.


    ¡°Idiots. They should know as well as we do how powerful the Prince is. Besides, he can simply say ¡®no¡¯ to a challenge.¡± Daphne scoffed as she took a drink from an offered wine glass. Red and rich, she noted that it was a very fine wine from Francia.


    ¡°No, he can¡¯t. Turn down a challenge, and he will lose any respect the Knights have for him. The Rosens also know that; they¡¯ll have something arranged to neutralize Aiden¡¯s strength.¡± Marten said, and Daphne turned to look at her cousin.


    ¡°You¡¯ve thought about this a lot.¡± She observed.


    ¡°We all have. It''s all the Knights on Aiden¡¯s detail were talking about on the way down. What will happen when he gets his title, and how will others react? We tried to warn him but¡­¡± Marten trailed off.


    ¡°But?¡± Daphne pushed for more information.


    ¡°He said he didn¡¯t care. I¡¯ve never met anyone less interested in being a Knight or a Prince than Aiden. If it wasn¡¯t for the King practically threatening him with a tutor and private classes, I doubt he would have bothered to learn anything at all.¡± Marten revealed.


    Their conversation was interrupted as the King and Queen emerged from the Palace. Wearing attire less formal than what they had to the Grand Cathedral, the pair still drew the eye of everyone present. The Queen wore a dress that was heavy with gemstones and gold, while the King chose a military-style uniform complete with a sword.


    Not Excalibur. Now that it was passed to Aiden, the King used a different magical blade, one still formidable but lacking the history of the famous sword.


    But it was the figure that walked slowly behind them that caught Marten and Daphne¡¯s attention. Aiden strode out of the palace, his head held high with Excalibur sheathed at his hip. The black uniform he wore was rather plain compared to what many other lords were wearing.


    However, Aiden didn¡¯t need ornate clothing to draw attention. He was young, powerful and handsome. He would be a Prince even if he were dressed in rags. He was expressionless, his cold eyes sweeping over the crowd as if looking for threats.


    Not finding any issues, the Prince seemed to subtly relax. The tension in his shoulders and the way he held himself eased. But Marten was under no illusion; Aiden was a viper ready to strike at any moment. He may be calm for the moment, but that could change in a heartbeat.


    ¡°Well, let the party begin.¡± Marten commented as he drained another glass of strong liquor. If there was going to be trouble, he wanted to be good and drunk for it. Otherwise, someone might expect him actually to defend their monstrous Prince.


    There was no way in hell he was going to get involved in that.

 Chapter 142 – Floor 13: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 142</u> ¨C Floor 13: Part 3


    As Mathew entered the gardens, the sounds of music and conversation washed over him. He didn¡¯t appreciate it; he had spent too much time in hostile environments to enjoy a crowd of people watching his every move.


    The conversations stilled as he swept his gaze across them. He was looking for threats by habit, not because he truly expected any danger here. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ hadn¡¯t activated a single time since his arrival, even when facing the Lady of the Lake.


    But he had no intention of ever-changing. Better to be constantly on edge than let his guard down. Sure, this Floor had shown that it was relatively safe, but what about the next?


    Still, he allowed himself to relax slightly as he saw no obvious monster lurking in the shadows or knife-wielding assassins ready to leap out of the group of Nobles.


    He had told Albrecht that he would try to enjoy the party, and he sort of meant it. How long had it been since he had been around people without the threat of violence? It felt like ages.


    Mathew used to like parties; at least, he thought he did. His memory of Earth was a bit hazy. There were galas and events when he was at Harvard. Emily had gone with him to some. Thankfully, he was shaken out of thoughts of her by loud voices and a group of Noble Lords approaching him.


    They were all dressed in fine clothing, heavily embroidered and thick jackets matched with long cloaks. Several of them had furs on the hood despite the heat. Mathew felt stifled and uncomfortable in his own uniform, the most uncomplicated and simple outfit in his newly provided wardrobe. He couldn¡¯t imagine adding additional layers to it like these men had.


    ¡°Prince Aiden! A marvellous display, I can understand why your Father kept you hidden for all these years! Truly a showman!¡± A large lord said as he spread his arms wide and gave a slight bow. Beads of sweat rolled down the lord''s face despite the enchantments on his clothing to provide cooling in the spring warmth.


    His statement was followed by a chorus of agreement from the others, and Mathew found himself in their midst. Their praise continued, but Mathew could detect a hint of something in their tones. They were digging for information, each of their questions circling around his personal life.


    They never outright asked where he grew up, but they came close. Mathew stuck to the agreed-upon backstory that Albrecht had provided.


    ¡°The Colonies are a lot warmer in spring; you¡¯re quite right about that. Anglia¡¯s chill will take some getting used to.¡± Mathew replied to one lord who had commented that the colony''s weather was different from Anglia¡¯s in an attempt to get Mathew to open up.


    ¡°The Southern Americas can be quite humid. I spent some time there as a Squire, although that was a few decades ago!¡± An older lord said as he took a drink from his wine glass, using a handkerchief to wipe the droplets from his large mustache.


    ¡°It can be pretty hot.¡± Mathew said, not offering any more than that. Let them guess where ¡®Aiden¡¯ grew up.


    The real Aiden was supposed to land in the Northern Americas, close to Boston. Of course, in this world, the United States didn¡¯t exist. The colonies barely held on at the frontiers of North America, and the Demi-Beasts controlled most of the mainland.


    Mathew had been surprised to learn about that. Anglia had been keen to exploit the natural resources of the new world, but the Demi-Beasts were too well entrenched for humanity to gain a significant foothold there.


    From what Mathew had read, the West Coast was practically uninhabited, not to mention the various monsters that lurked beneath the sea, preying on the ships that passed. It was no wonder that the colonies weren¡¯t flourishing.


    ¡°What are your plans now that you have returned home, Prince Aiden? Can we expect a sortie into the Orkneys?¡± Another lord asked, and Mathew was just about to open his mouth to respond when Queen Margrit interrupted.


    Following behind the Queen was a young woman wearing a light blue dress and her honey-coloured hair done in an elaborate bun with curls coming down to her shoulders. She was pale, pretty and confident in herself. Seeing ¡®Aiden¡¯ looking at her, she gave a small curtsy.


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    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I must steal my son away from you, but it is time for him to open the ball with a dance. Aiden, this is Evelyn Toth. Her family has been close to our house for many generations. Accompany her onto the dancefloor.¡± Margrit ordered, and Mathew¡¯s eyes flicked over to the Queen for a moment before he nodded.


    ¡°Lady Evelyn.¡± Mathew said as he took her hand and led her into the center of the cleared space designated for dancing. He just hoped he remembered enough from the few dance lessons he had gotten ages ago.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Marten and Daphne watched Prince Aiden approach the dancefloor with Evelyn Toth.


    His choice of partner wasn¡¯t surprising; it was obvious that the King was rewarding his most loyal retainers. Marten wouldn¡¯t be shocked if a betrothal contract was already in place, which had been discarded when Aiden first went ¡®missing¡¯ and is now finding new life with the Prince¡¯s return.


    Evelyn Toth was beautiful; anyone with eyes could see that, and she matched Aiden perfectly. The pair stood on the dancefloor, the magical lights illuminating them clearly for the crowd. Taking her hands in his, Aiden began a simple waltz.


    It was clear to even Marten that Aiden wasn¡¯t a good dancer. He kept to the basics, in reasonable time to the music. Serviceable enough not to embarrass himself, but the stories in tomorrow¡¯s papers weren¡¯t going to be about his dancing.


    While the couple danced, Marten eyed the surrounding lords and ladies. He could easily spot Matilda; she seemed ready to pounce on Aiden as soon as the music stopped, hoping that the Prince would pick her next.


    Sweeping past her, Marten settled on Lord Rosen. The man looked like he had spent the evening sucking on a lemon, not even attempting to hide his disdain for the new Crown Prince. If there was going to be trouble, it would come from the group of sycophants clustered around Rosen.


    The music finally died down, and the crowd applauded the pair. Marten could see that the Queen was already in the process of selecting Aiden¡¯s next partner, a charming young woman who had just been introduced to Society this season when Marten noticed another person approaching the Prince.


    Camille Rosen. Perfect. Lord Rosen¡¯s youngest daughter was twenty and had a number of suitors, all ready and willing to do whatever it took to catch her attention.


    ¡°Get ready, here comes trouble.¡± Marten said to Daphne. He was just the perfect amount of drunk to watch the show without being so drunk as to look forward to it. Next to him, Daphne¡¯s eyes locked on to the Prince just as Camille called out to him.


    ¡°My Prince, May I request the next dance?¡± Camille asked, her voice silky smooth. Wearing a form fitting green dress and her long, blond hair set in elaborate curls that reached down her back, Marten could understand why so many young lords were clamouring for her affection.


    By the gods, Marten could almost count himself amongst their number if the effort wasn¡¯t too bothersome.


    Prince Aiden turned to look at the young Lady just as another Lord swaggered toward them. He had a sword on his hip, and Marten recognized him immediately. Reginald Fairfax was from a house closely aligned with House Rosen.


    Marten let out a snort at the farce playing out in front of them, and Daphne looked to her cousin for an explanation. Shaking his head, he gestured for her to keep watching.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you have a dance with me, Camille? You¡¯ll save yourself the embarrassment of having your feet stepped on.¡± Reginald said loudly, practically shouting the words out as he looked around in satisfaction at the effect he was having.


    ¡°That is quite alright, Reggie. I prefer a real man.¡± Camille said without even sparing Reginald a glance. She gave Aiden a large smile and approached even nearer to the Prince.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew, aware of exactly what was going on, let out a weary sigh. Couldn¡¯t they just get it over with? Why did they need all the pageantry?


    ¡°A real man!? I¡¯ll prove my devotion to you here and now! I challenge you to a duel, Aiden. I will have-¡±


    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s get this farce over with.¡± Mathew replied, cutting off the pompous idiot before he could launch into his spiel. Unbuttoning his coat, Mathew looked around at the surrounding Lords and Ladies. Many of them flinched as his gaze met theirs.


    ¡°Listen, if you want to attempt to kill me in a fight, just go ahead and try. But please, for the love of the gods, spare me your bullshit. Get out of my way!¡± Mathew growled the last words at Camille, gesturing her rudely to step aside.


    With the way the woman¡¯s eyes opened wide and she appeared stunned, Mathew guessed it was the first time someone had ever been rude to her.


    Tossing his coat away, Mathew pulled out Excalibur and gave it a few practice swings, heedless of his surging mana''s effect. While he was limbering up, Albrecht approached him. Across the dancefloor, Reginald had drawn his own weapon, a single-edged sabre.


    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to use that in an honour duel. These things need to be fair. Here, use mine.¡± Albrecht said, taking Excalibur from Mathew¡¯s hands and giving him his own sword.


    ¡°Oh, and try not to kill him.¡± Albrecht finished, patting Mathew on the shoulder and walking back to where the Queen stood. No one seemed surprised at the sudden turn to violence; everyone had been expecting something to happen.


    ¡°Come on, I don¡¯t have all night.¡± Mathew muttered as he flashed a grin that seemed to relish the violence. Mathew normally wasn¡¯t one to look forward to a fight, but anything was better than dancing and small talk.

 Chapter 143 – Floor 13: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 143</u> ¨C Floor 13: Part 4


    While Prince Aiden swung his borrowed sword, causing it to let out a scream as it passed through the air, Marten and the other Knights were studying him carefully. It was immediately apparent to the assembled Lords that something wasn¡¯t right about Aiden¡¯s proficiency with a sword.


    ¡°Huh.¡± Marten remarked as he frowned.


    ¡°What?¡± Daphne asked, curious about how her cousin had been reacting to the Prince. Marten shrugged and took another sip from his drink.


    ¡°Aiden doesn¡¯t know how to use a sword.¡± Marten concluded. The Prince¡¯s stance was terrible; his feet were too close together, and his grip on the hilt wasn¡¯t proper. Aiden appeared like a woodcutter chopping logs to a trained swordsman like Marten. The way he swung his blade was all power, no finesse.


    Marten told Daphne his observations, and the young woman tried to come up with a reason for Aiden¡¯s lack of skill with a sword.


    ¡°Perhaps he is trained in magic? He clearly has the mana reserves for it and has shown an aptitude for projecting it outside his body.¡± Daphne reasoned, thinking of Aiden¡¯s display in the Cathedral.


    Magic required the externalization of mana. The storm created by Aiden at the Cathedral certainly fit the criteria.


    ¡°Maybe, but I don¡¯t think that¡¯s entirely the truth either. The way he walks and moves, Aiden can fight. Just not with a sword.¡± Marten deduced.


    If Marten could notice Aiden¡¯s awkwardness with his sword, then to a master swordsman like Reginald, his faults were as clear as good glass. But unlike Daphne, who tried to find a logical reason for Aiden¡¯s performance, Reginald instantly assumed that the Prince was doing it on purpose.


    ¡°Are you looking down on me, Aiden!? Do you not consider me to be a worthy opponent?¡± Reginald shouted as he flushed red in anger.


    The young lord gripped his sword in two hands; the single-edged sabre was slightly curved. Marten observed that Reginald was in the first stance of the ¡®Striking Hawk,¡¯ a fast and deadly sword form that had the blade held higher than normal, with his left foot forward.


    Marten hated Reginald Fairfax with a passion; the man was incredibly rude and prone to outbursts, but he could concede that he was a well-trained and talented Knight. There was probably no better test of Aiden¡¯s skills that House Rosen could use than pitting the two against each other.


    ¡°Honestly? Not really.¡± Aiden said with a shrug. Rather than take a stance from a recognizable Sword Form, Aiden had his blade hang loosely at his side in one hand. The crowd murmured and whispered at the response, and the group of Lords and Ladies near Rosen grumbled the loudest.


    Reginald shot forward, his sword a flash of light as it struck toward Aiden¡¯s heart. The Prince didn¡¯t raise his sword; he twisted his body slightly and let the blade pass by before punching it out with his left hand. Reginald turned quickly, light on his feet to avoid the blow.


    From ¡®Striking Hawk,¡¯ Reginald flowed into ¡®Manifold Viper,¡¯ a deadly series of stabs that moved so quickly that to the casual onlooker, it would appear as if multiple swords were attempting to hit Aiden. But the Prince avoided them all with only a minimal amount of movement.


    If Aiden were to block Reginald¡¯s sword with his own, Marten would have been impressed and could possibly match. But to dodge and weave around them as if Reginald was moving in slow motion was a feat that Marten himself could never hope to achieve.


    Aiden wasn¡¯t done with merely dodging; he would follow up with attacks of his own. When Reginald struck out with ¡®Soaring Heron,¡¯ Aiden countered with a blow to Reginald¡¯s chest that forced the young lord backwards.


    Reginald retreated, coughing and panting as he tried to regain his breath. Marten couldn¡¯t believe Aiden¡¯s performance. He didn¡¯t raise his sword once, not to block or to attack. To make things more impressive, the Prince¡¯s feet hadn¡¯t moved from where he stood. Every strike had been avoided by twisting and turning his body.


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    Next to him, Daphne let out a gasp of shock. This wasn¡¯t like watching a battle between equals; this was a man toying with his opponent to send a message to everyone around him. Aiden was saying, ¡®I am better than you, and I can prove it.¡¯


    ¡°Done?¡± Aiden asked with a grin as Reginald finally caught his breath and stood upright.


    ¡°No. I don¡¯t know where the King found you, but you¡¯re obviously a barbarian. You lack a Knight''s skill and will never be more than a brute. Let me show you why the Knights of Anglia have been able to defeat the Demi-Beasts.¡± Reginald boasted.


    Mana began to swirl around the young lord. The wind rose, and Reginald¡¯s white silk shirt fluttered. The veins stood out against his pale skin, and he gritted his teeth as he forced his mana to cycle through his body.


    ¡°Shit.¡± Marten muttered, recognizing what Reginald was doing. Unlike a Mage that could ¡®externalize¡¯ their mana to cast spells, Knights used their mana to increase their strength and physical abilities. But, there were also more advanced techniques that could allow Knights to do more than just enhance their bodies.


    ¡°Black Flames of Retribution.¡±


    Reginald held his long sabre sideways in front of him, focusing his will on the blade. He ran his hand along the length of the sword, starting from the hilt, along the flat until he reached the tip. As his hand passed over the steel, fire emerged.


    Marten could feel the heat from the magical flames, even from where he stood. When Reginald raised the sword up in the ¡®Hawk¡¯ stance that he had started the duel in, a line of fire remained in the air where the flaming steel had passed. It took seconds for the line of fire to dissipate.


    He had heard about the Fairfax Sword Technique before but had never witnessed it himself. It was incredibly dangerous as it severely limited movement in the area, anyone touching the lingering flames would be burnt as if the sword itself struck them.


    Aiden looked unaffected by the heat, and his face showed his indifference. Marten was impressed by how well the Prince was doing. If it was him facing such a technique, he would be pissing himself. The Black Flames of Retribution could cut down even the strongest of Demi-Beasts, let alone a person.


    Reginald shot forward even faster than before. The technique had increased his speed and strength. The line of fire followed him, streaking down toward Aiden, who side-stepped the attack. The blade bit into the ground, cutting through the wooden dancefloor and the stone beneath.


    Withdrawing his sabre and leaving a trail of black fire in its wake, Reginald struck again, this time from the opposite direction.


    ¡°This is it.¡± Marten whispered, already knowing what would happen. Aiden was boxed in; the lingering line of black flames to his side meant that he could only retreat backwards or block with his sword.


    Indeed, with the flame-covered sword swinging toward him, Aiden raised the blade in his right hand and blocked the descending weapon. There was a deafening ¡®clang¡¯ as the weapons met. Enchanted with magic, the two swords could bear weight and pressure that would snap regular steel.


    Reginald let out a grunt as he pushed against Aiden¡¯s sword. The Prince was undeterred; his arm didn¡¯t even shake as he kept the sabre from reaching him. Even at that close distance, Marten could see the Prince was still unconcerned about the black flames inches from him.


    ¡°Gods damn you, why won¡¯t you die!¡± Reginald roared, and the black flames surged as he fed more of his mana into them, pushing them beyond their normal limits. This had gone beyond a mere honour duel; Reginald was forcing the contest into a life-and-death situation.


    And still, no one attempted to stop them. Whether the King wanted to see his son crush his opposition, or House Rosen wanted the Prince gone, neither side sought to interfere.


    Aiden was pushed back; his feet slid across the dancefloor. But, what was worse, the black flame sabre began to cut into Aiden¡¯s sword. It glowed red in his hands from the heat, and molten metal dripped onto the ground, burning a hole beneath his feet.


    Sensing victory close at hand, Reginald gave a final burst of power into the black flames. The sword in Aiden¡¯s hand cracked and shattered. But before it could reach the Prince¡¯s body, it was stopped.


    Marten stared in disbelief as the sabre, coated in black flames that could burn through magic-enhanced steel, was grabbed by Adien¡¯s bare hand. The Prince calmly gripped the blade, allowing the fire to coat his hand.


    ¡°This spell isn¡¯t bad, although that sword I was using was a piece of garbage.¡± Aiden remarked. Marten could see small, snake-like scales covering his hand and arm that shielded his skin from the heat. The Prince pulled his arm back, ripping the sabre from Reginald¡¯s hands.


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡± Reginald exclaimed in disbelief.


    ¡°Sure, whatever.¡± Aiden said. The flames died as soon as contact with Reginald was lost, and Aiden tossed the sabre onto the ground. He began to walk slowly toward the stunned lord, and Marten could see that the hand that had touched the sabre¡¯s blade was red, cracked and bleeding slightly.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t ¡®not taking you seriously.¡¯ I just don¡¯t know how to use a sword. I never had to learn.¡± Aiden admitted. Before Reginald could respond, the Prince was moving at a speed greater than his opponent had shown during the entire duel.


    Aiden¡¯s fist slammed into Reginald¡¯s stomach, and the young lord immediately collapsed. The Prince grinned as he looked toward Lord Rosen and his entourage.


    ¡°Alright, who¡¯s next?¡±

 Chapter 144 – Floor 13: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 144</u> ¨C Floor 13: Part 5


    A month passed in the capital of Londinium. It was a month filled with balls, parties and festivities. At the centre of attention for each event was the Crown Prince, Aiden. His remarkable abilities made the rumour mill continue to turn, even as those who were willing to physically challenge him dwindled.


    But that didn¡¯t stop a few disgruntled Nobles from scheming. House Rosen led the crusade against the returned Prince, constantly questioning his suitability and background. Aiden responded with indifference to their plots.


    It was as if Aiden didn¡¯t care about his reputation at all.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Daphne walked through the wide halls of the university. The campus stretched for miles, with buildings dedicated to various scholarly and martial pursuits.


    There were the training grounds for the Knights, where they would focus on swordsmanship and combat tactics. However, most of the buildings in the university were dedicated to the mundane, such as history, etiquette, and law.


    Daphne ignored these areas as she travelled through the corridors and open grounds to the most remote and secluded part of the campus.


    The Mages were separated from the rest of the campus by a gate. Although it was left open and there were no guards present to restrict entry, students who were not mages were dissuaded from entering by subtle charms and enchantments.


    These methods did not hinder Daphne at all as she passed through the tall archway of the gate and set her sights on the most prominent and, in her opinion, beautiful structure of the University. The Central Mage Tower dominated the sky; its peak reached hundreds of feet into the air.


    An architectural marvel, it was heavily enchanted. Daphne had heard that the Mage Tower would be the refuge for the city''s elite if the rest of Londinium were ever to fall to the tide of Demi-Beast invaders. From there, they could wage war across the island.


    Entering the Mage Tower, Daphne greeted a few of her fellow students that she recognized. The Mages of the Tower were a small and tight-knit group. She had been a student here for years but was still decades away from being acknowledged by its members.


    The first level of the Tower was completely open, a round space that could be housed for gatherings and a meeting place for students. Classes were sometimes held in this area, and the curved walls held bookshelves and desks for their use.


    Daphne reached the central pillar, a large piece of stone that stretched from the ground to the ceiling and was present in each of the Tower¡¯s levels. Runes and Glyphs were carved into it, and a glow of mana suffused the stone.


    There were no stairs or elevators for travel in the Tower of Mages. No, to reach one of the upper levels, a person merely needed to touch the appropriate symbol, and they would reach their destination through the use of the pillar''s magic.


    Her early classes in history had told her that Aether fueled the magic of the Tower, a large piece of crystal discovered by Merlin in the time of Arthur. Dug out from far beneath the earth of Anglia, Merlin had placed it here in Londinium and built the Tower around it.


    She remembered how long it had taken her to study and learn the runes here when she first arrived. No student could progress very far as a Mage without learning them. Some of the slower students spent years on the first level, their studies hindered by their lack of understanding of the obscure glyphs. I


    Only when one traveled further up the Tower did a person truly begin to walk the path of the Magus.


    Daphne looked at the pillar for a moment, studying its runes, before pressing her palm against one. The pillar tended to change, its runes shifting depending on the planets'' alignment, the moon''s phases and the stars'' position in the sky.


    A flash of white light covered the pillar, touching her hand and travelling up her arm. When it completely wrapped around her body, Daphne disappeared.


    She rematerialized on one of the upper levels. Through the large, arched windows, she could see the University campus far below her, and the city stretched outwards. Daphne took a moment to enjoy the view before turning away from the window and making her way through the maze of corridors, offices and small libraries before she reached a closed door.


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    Knocking politely, she waited for the door to open. In less than a minute, the wooden portal opened, and she was let into the office of one of the most powerful Mages in Anglia.


    Archmagus Enalious, one of only three Archmagi of Anglia, stood looking out the window. Behind him, one of his apprentices was diligently taking notes, transcribing runes into English on the desk. Standing against the far wall were nearly a dozen of her fellow students, men and women who ranged from their early twenties into their mid-thirties.


    Daphne bowed politely to the Archmage, who didn¡¯t seem to notice and took her place with her fellows. A male student next to her, who was the youngest amongst their number by two years, smiled and nodded as she walked beside him.


    ¡°Cutting it close, Daph.¡± The young man said with a smile.


    Alfred, Prince of Anglia and the second son of Albrecht and Margrit, was dressed in grey Mage robes like the rest of them. He had long, dark hair that reached his shoulders and was kept out of his eyes by a silver metal headband.


    He was frail and thin, his robes hung from his frame, and Daphne doubted he had any fat on him. His cheeks were sunken and hollow. But his eyes were the brightest green she had ever seen, filled with life and intelligence.


    Alfred was a natural Mage; he made up for what he lacked in physical strength with his wits and mana. Unfortunately, spellcasting placed a huge burden on the body, as much as the mind, limiting his progress in the magical arts.


    At eighteen years old, Alfred had earned his place amongst his peers. But as to why he was here at the request of the Archmage, Daphne had no idea.


    They had been told to gather for an important announcement, but none had been told anything about what it was about. When the last few students had entered, making their number an even two dozen, Archmagus Enalious turned away from the window and assessed their group.


    Clearing his throat, he spoke.


    ¡°Prince Aiden will be heading North with a number of Knights and a force of reserves. He will be leading their training, and once they are ready, he intends to clear the last of the Demi-Beasts from their strongholds in Alba before retaking the Orkneys.¡± Enalious stated, and the silence after he finished was deafening.


    Everything North of Hadrian¡¯s wall belonged to the Demi-Beasts, and numerous attempts to finally rid them from Anglia had failed. Ultimately, the King reinforced the old Roman walls and let the Demi-Beasts have most of Alba.


    Daphne was stunned at the Prince¡¯s desire to go into battle with the Demi-Beasts so soon after returning. It had only been a month!


    She snuck a glance at Alfred, wondering if he had known about his brother¡¯s plans. From the look of shock on his face, the young prince evidently had no idea Aiden would be moving so quickly.


    ¡°With that goal in mind, I have summoned you here. The Tower of Mages will be required to support the Prince¡¯s ambitions. Twenty-four of you students with exceptional talent and potential. You will all train with the Prince, and when you are ready, you will join a cadre of Mages that will participate in the liberation of the North.¡± Enalious ordered.


    Daphne looked at the other students. Many of them showed excitement and eagerness to prove themselves. Several looked like they were going to be sick, the worry of engaging the Demi-Beasts already on their minds.


    Before they could focus too much on the news, Enalious dismissed them.


    ¡°Alfred, Daphne, both of you stay a moment.¡± Enalious commanded as the others left the office. Even his apprentice closed his book and departed, leaving them alone. The Archmage waited until the doors were firmly shut before speaking.


    ¡°I have a special task for the both of you.¡± Enalious said, looking at the pair. Alfred looked uncertain of his place here and spoke up.


    ¡°Sir, should I be going North? I fear I may be a burden.¡± Alfred confessed he was about to continue to voice his concerns when Enalious raised a hand to stop him.


    ¡°The King has commanded it. You have nothing to fear; your brother has sworn to protect you, and he has the strength to do so. As for being a burden, you both should have no worries about that. Your special task is to act as advisors to Prince Aiden. As you may know, he is unfamiliar with our ways. You will be on hand to counsel him.¡± Enalious explained.


    ¡°Counsel him?¡± Alfred asked. He hadn¡¯t met his brother yet; his parents had forbidden it until things became more settled. He had only heard rumours about his sibling, some so outlandish that he couldn¡¯t believe them.


    ¡°Yes. Prince Aiden is quite eager to liberate the North, and the King fears that he may alienate many of the Knights and Lords. Aiden has been very¡­indifferent to their opinions. It is our hope that you may be an ally in easing any tensions.¡± Enalious said, looking at Daphne, who nodded in response.


    She had seen for herself how Aiden approached problems. The image of Reginald lying on the ground, unconscious, with Aiden shouting at the Rosens came to her mind.


    ¡°And Alfred, being around your brother may also benefit your constitution. As you know, hardship and experience strengthen the body and mind. You may learn things from Aiden that could surprise you. The North holds many herbs and medicines that we have lost access to since the Demi-Beast invaded.¡± Enalious said.


    After speaking for a few more minutes about what would be expected of them, the pair left the Archmage¡¯s office. He stared at their departing figures for a moment before turning back to look out the window.


    The gods themselves were now involved in their campaign to free the North. All he could do was give ¡®Aiden¡¯ all the support he could by training the new generation that would assist him.

 Chapter 145 – Floor 13: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 145</u> ¨C Floor 13: Part 6


    ¡°Good. Move from ¡®Hawk¡¯ to ¡®Bear.¡¯ Strike than defend.¡± Marten instructed.


    They were in the courtyard of ¡®Hadrian¡¯s Bulwark,¡¯ a castle that had been built in the time of Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. Those august figures were centuries gone, but their legacy lived on. From here, the Northern Campaign would begin in a few months.


    The King instructed Marten to advise Aiden on the Knights in his command and teach him how to use a sword. Marten had expected Aiden to refuse or at least be dismissive. To his pleasant surprise, Aiden was an apt and dedicated pupil.


    They had been here for a few weeks in preparation for the arrival of the recruits. The plan was to train here for the summer and proceed North in the fall. That left them with a little over two months.


    Their sword lesson ended, and Aiden placed the blunt training blade back in the rack beside the wall. After swinging the heavy steel sword for a few hours, the Prince wasn''t even out of breath. Marten had wondered why the King had selected him for this task, but the answer was fairly obvious.


    He detested politics. Most of the Knights under Albrecht were connected to families and Houses, and technically, so was Marten. But it was well known that Marten didn¡¯t have much to do with it.


    Having returned his sword, Aiden looked up at the cloudy sky and shook his head.


    ¡°Does it always rain here? I thought it was nearly summer; it¡¯s cold enough to snow!¡± Aiden commented, and Marten flashed a grin.


    ¡°It is summer. It should clear up in a week or two, then its warm weather and flies.¡± Marten replied.


    ¡°Great. Do you still wish you were in Londinium? I got the impression you didn¡¯t enjoy your time there.¡± Aiden asked as the pair made their way across the courtyard and through the narrow corridors of the castle.


    ¡°I don¡¯t. I would have stayed at the estate if it wasn''t for my sister. It''s a lot safer than Londinium politics. I¡¯d rather have a sword in my hand than attend another ball.¡± Marten responded.


    ¡°A sentiment I share. Albrecht and Margrit couldn¡¯t have devised a better way to torture me for a month if they tried.¡± Aiden said, and Marten didn¡¯t comment on the Prince''s use of his parent''s first names. He never named or mentioned them as his parents. It was an oddity that he had grown used to.


    ¡°The reserves should be arriving tomorrow. We still need to finalize everything with the quartermaster.¡± Marten suggested, and Aiden agreed. Tomorrow would be their first step towards freeing the North.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Alfred said as he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.


    Daphne noticed the white cloth had flecks of blood on it. The prince pulled a small vial of medicine from a bag by his feet and drank it. It was nearly triple the dose he normally needed, but the Northern climate disagreed.


    ¡°It¡¯s the damp air. I¡¯ll be better once the weather clears.¡± Alfred assured her, although Daphne doubted the truth of his statement.


    They were both in a carriage, along with several other Mage students. What had started as a pleasant journey out of Londinium aboard a train with the sun high above them and warm winds at their back had quickly turned into rain and mud as they arrived at the last station before Hadrian¡¯s Wall.


    Bundled up in layers of clothing as if it were still winter, their situation was infinitely better than the thousands of newly recruited soldiers that marched behind them. At least the carriage protected them from the wind and the rain. If Alfred had been forced to walk, Daphne doubted he would have lasted an hour.


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    The castle was in sight, a grim presence on the horizon that promised warmth, safety and security. It was from here that the invasions of the Northern Demi-Beasts had been driven back time and time again. Each year, the wall would grow a little higher as more stones were added to it, and the castle¡¯s defenders would be stretched a little more thin as casualties mounted.


    There was mana in the air, so strong that Daphne could almost taste it. Generations of mages had added spells and enchantments to the stones. The magic here was old, most of it dating back to the time of the Romans, where magical rituals were common.


    The carriage came to a stop, and a uniformed soldier with a silver breastplate opened the door. Giving them a brief salute, he spoke.


    ¡°Milords, Milady, we¡¯ve arrived.¡± He said. Exiting the carriage, Daphne frowned as her feet sank deeply in the muddy ground. The army stretched across a once-green field that the endless rain had softened, turning into a mess.


    She noticed that a mile or so up the road, a small town that consisted of hundreds of stone and wooden buildings, along with wooden walkways that would elevate them above the mud, had been constructed. Noticing her start, the uniformed soldier explained.


    ¡°That¡¯s the new barracks and officer¡¯s quarters Prince Aiden had constructed.¡± He said.


    ¡°Tell me, why have we stopped here in this muddy field when there are perfectly good, and dry, quarters only a mile away?¡± One of her fellow mages asked, and Daphne nodded in agreement. The soldier shrugged his shoulder.


    ¡°Prince Aiden told us to gather here, so that¡¯s what we¡¯re doing.¡± He said before giving them another salute and walking away. The carriages were apparently not part of the Prince¡¯s orders. As soon as they had discharged their occupants, they trundled along the mud road toward the town, along with hundreds of more carts that carried their supplies.


    ¡°Gods damned Princelings, making us wait in the middle of a mud pit. I have half a mind to write my father and tell him about all this. See if the King will stand for it when the House of Lords petitions him.¡± One arrogant student cursed, and Daphne shook her head.


    ¡°Good luck with that. I doubt Aiden cares what anyone thinks.¡± Daphne whispered to Alfred. He seemed unfazed by the other¡¯s comments regarding his brother. To Alfred, Aiden was a stranger who had gone missing when he was only a few years old.


    The grumbling continued for a few more minutes when shouting from a group of officers and mages sent everyone running to group up into somewhat orderly lines. Even Daphne¡¯s group wasn¡¯t spared, with several of the garrisoned mages stationed in the North for a while taking charge of them and having them gather together.


    They were told that the Prince was coming.


    Huddled in their thick clothing, Daphne and the others listened to the sound of the wind howling and the pitter-patter of the rain before it was broken suddenly by a loud roar. The howl echoed all around them as loud as thunder, and Daphne felt a shiver of fear.


    Were they under attack by the Demi-Beasts? Next to her, Alfred was looking up into the sky. Following his gaze, Daphne caught a glimpse of Aiden.


    He was riding a dragon. It was massive, its leathery wings stretched across the sky, and its thick scales were wet with the rain. Aiden was sitting in a saddle, controlling the dragon as it sailed over the castle and approached the ground in front of them.


    The dragon landed on the muddy ground, and the earth shook with the impact as its two back legs dug into the mud. Daphne noticed the dragon lacked front legs as Aiden climbed down from the saddle. The army was surprisingly calm; the efforts of the officers, who knew that the Prince would be arriving atop a dragon, had prevented them from fleeing. Or perhaps they were scared stiff.


    ¡°It¡¯s a wyvern.¡± Alfred whispered as he stared at the creature. Aiden stepped onto the ground, and the creature shrank, becoming only a bit bigger than its rider. Then, Aiden made a gesture, and the Wyvern turned to stone and shrank to become a small statue. Picking it up, Aiden placed it in his pocket before approaching the army.


    Daphne was stunned silent. She had never seen magic like that before. It was magic; she could feel the mana of both the creature and Aiden.


    How in the hell had he learned that?! She had to learn! Nothing else mattered to the young woman right now.


    Her train of thought was derailed as Aiden stepped onto a large pile of crates that had been put there for that purpose and addressed the crowd. Enhanced by magic, Daphne missed most of the speech due to her distraction.


    ¡°-train hard, and we will bring freedom to the North!¡± Aiden shouted, and the army responded with cheers. Hoping down from the crates, his boots sinking into the mud, Aiden approached them. Daphne saw that he was wearing armour, black leather, and silver metal in an unfamiliar design, but he was glowing with magic. The sword ¡®Excalibur¡¯ was sheathed at his hip.


    ¡°Alfred?¡± Aiden asked as he reached his brother. Not waiting for a response, Aiden gestured to them as he turned and began returning to the castle.


    ¡°Follow me.¡±

 Chapter 146 – Floor 13: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 146</u> ¨C Floor 13: Part 7


    ¡°How did you do that?¡± The young woman asked Mathew before he was even a dozen feet away from where they were standing. His boots sunk into the mud nearly to his ankles at places. The magical item had enchantments to resist water and dirt otherwise his feet would have long since been soaked.


    ¡®Thank the gods for the quality of its shop items.¡¯ Mathew thought as he made the trek back to the castle where he was quartered. He had flown the Wyvern down to the army partially to send a message and inspire the troops but mostly because he didn¡¯t want to slog through the mud.


    ¡°Do what?¡± Mathew asked absently. The pair caught up with him, and Mathew slowed his walk a bit when he noticed Alfred had trouble keeping up.


    When Albrecht told him that his son was too weak to be Crown Prince, Mathew had expected him to be unwell. But he didn¡¯t think he would look like he was on death¡¯s door.


    This was the person Albrecht wanted to lead this country and protect them against its enemies eventually? Alfred looked as if a strong gust of wind would knock him over at any moment. Whatever elixirs and special rituals they were using to improve his constitution were clearly not working.


    ¡°Control the Wyvern!¡± Daphne exclaimed.


    ¡°You made it shrink and enlarge as well.¡± Alfred added once his coughing fit ended. Mathew started to regret having the young man follow him through the rain. Thankfully, they were nearly at the castle. He stopped to look at the pair and let Alfred catch his breath.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s pretty simple. It¡¯s a Blessing I received from the gods.¡± Mathew said as he shrugged his shoulder in response.


    ¡°A Blessing?¡± Alfred asked. He was aware that people did receive Blessings and gifts from the gods, but it was an extremely rare occurrence. It was rumoured that Merlin received his insights into magic from a god, while Arthur was Blessed with a strong constitution.


    ¡°Is it possible to learn or perhaps receive the Blessing as well?¡± Daphne inquired. The thought of new magic that was never seen before in Anglia was fascinating.


    ¡°Sure, anything is possible. It just depends on what you''re willing to go through to get it.¡± Mathew replied cryptically.


    ¡°What did you have to go through?¡± Alfred questioned. Something about his brother¡¯s tone sent a chill down his spine. There was a lack of emotion, almost like a numbness to his words.


    Aiden thought for a moment before responding.


    ¡°If you want to be able to do what I do, then you just need to be willing to sell your body and soul to the gods. Let them enslave you, send you to the worst places you can imagine. You need to fight for them and, most importantly, die for their causes. You¡¯ll need to travel to hellscapes where the air burns your lungs, and water is as rare as gold. Battle against monsters worse than any nightmare, and when the bodies of your friends and comrades pile up in the tens of thousands, keep going. Watch people die until it¡¯s a fact of life, something as common and mundane to you as breathing.¡± Mathew explained, and the pair turned pale at his words.


    ¡°Then, just survive. Survive and grow stronger. You¡¯ll get your Blessings, although it won¡¯t help you that much. The stronger you get, the more the gods are willing to throw you into the fire.¡±


    ¡°So, are you willing to go that far to ride a wyvern?¡± Mathew finished, flashing the pale and shaking young woman a grin before turning and continuing to the castle.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think so!¡± Mathew exclaimed.


    <u>Page Break</u>


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    Aiden sat down in a bare, wooden chair behind a desk in his chambers in the castle. The room was sparsely decorated, with only a rug to cover the bare stone floor and a bed pushed up against a corner. No attempt had been made to make it more ¡®homely¡¯ or comfortable.


    Alfred¡¯s first face-to-face interaction with his brother since he was a child wasn¡¯t what he had expected. The person in front of him was a stranger; he could see no resemblance between them, and Aiden did not acknowledge him in any way, aside from saying his name.


    He felt slightly better now that he was out of the wind and the rain, although the damp castle wasn¡¯t much of an improvement. The tea that sat on a saucer in front of him helped a bit. Daphne sat next to him, staring at Aiden as if he were a puzzle she was determined to solve.


    The revelation that Aiden worked for the gods had been a shock, although, now that he had the presence of mind to think about it further, it wasn¡¯t that surprising. His strength and abilities were abnormal, and only someone blessed by the gods could do the things he did.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re here to be my advisors.¡± Aiden stated with amusement. His brother seemed to think it was humorous that the king had attached the pair to him.


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Alfred replied.


    ¡°Fine. If you are going to be ¡®advising¡¯ me, I¡¯m going to need to be able to trust you. Can I do that?¡± Aiden asked.


    ¡°Of course. You¡¯re my brother.¡± Alfred said while Daphne nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯m not your brother.¡± Aiden stated. Alfred could do nothing but blink slowly at those words.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Alfred managed to say.


    ¡°I¡¯m not your brother. To my knowledge, the real Aiden is dead and gone. I¡¯ve been brought here through a ritual that Albrecht performed to the gods. My job is to pretend to be Aiden until you¡¯re strong enough to become Crown Prince, and then I get to move on to my next task and a new world. Oh, and I need to drive back the Demi-Beasts while I¡¯m here.¡± Aiden said before turning and grinning at Daphne.


    ¡°This is what I have to do for my Blessings. Are you still willing to do anything for them?¡± Aiden said, shaking his head ruefully when Daphne blanched. Ignoring the young woman once more, he turned to look at Alfred.


    ¡°So, what are you planning on ¡®advising¡¯ me on?¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The revelation that ¡®Aiden¡¯ wasn¡¯t really his brother, that he was an imposter sent by the gods to play a role until Alfred was strong enough, left him shaking and ill. His father''s willingness to go so far for Alfred wasn¡¯t a surprise; he was the last hope that their house would retain the crown, after all.


    ¡°What are we going to do?¡± Daphne asked as she paced in front of him. They had just left ¡®Aiden¡¯s¡¯ room, the pair having gone to the town below the castle where they were quartered. They were in Alfred¡¯s room, a wooden and plain chamber with only a small bed and desk. The window had thick, cheap glass that distorted the view of the muddy road outside.


    ¡°What can we do? He¡¯s the Crown Prince, and he¡¯s here to help us. If this is what Father and Mother want, then we have no choice but to go along.¡± Alfred replied.


    ¡°How can you be so calm about this? He¡¯s an imposter, a stranger from another world! It¡¯s insanity!¡± Daphne shouted, and Alfred winced at the volume of her voice.


    Alfred rolled the small glass vial that Aiden had given him in his hands. There was a bright red liquid inside, and Aiden had assured him that, while it wouldn¡¯t cure him, it would help with the symptoms of his weak constitution.


    ¡°Yes, it''s insanity. But a necessary madness. How many people will die if the Rosens take the throne? They would purge the capital of anyone that hasn¡¯t supported them.¡± Alfred reasoned.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that for sure.¡± Daphne paused her steps and turned to him. ¡°We should tell someone.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Who? My parents are already aware, and so are many of the senior Knights in his bodyguard. Archmagus Enalious is obviously involved since summoning ¡®Aiden¡¯ relied on a ritual that only an Archmage can perform. Who else should we inform?¡± Alfred retorted.


    ¡°It¡¯s not right. Why aren¡¯t you more upset?! He¡¯s using your brother¡¯s name, his reputation!¡± Daphne replied. Alfred¡¯s only response was a small shrug as he kept staring at the elixir in his hands.


    ¡°He¡¯s only here until I¡¯m strong enough to take the title. Once that happens, he said his task would be completed, and he can leave. He doesn¡¯t want to be here, Daphne. That much is clear. I just need time to heal.¡± Alfred explained.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re just going to go along with this farce? For how long?¡± Daphne countered.


    ¡°As long as it takes. Exposure to the remnant Aether the Demi-Beasts release when they are killed in combat will strengthen my body. All I need to do is stay in the North, close to the fighting.¡± Alfred reasoned.


    ¡°That¡¯s if you survive! How do you know that this false Aiden isn¡¯t leading us all to our deaths?!¡± Daphne responded loudly.


    ¡°I don¡¯t, but we don¡¯t have any choice. We need to place our faith in the gods.¡± Alfred replied. Daphne immediately thought about what ¡®Aiden¡¯ had said about his Blessings. She shivered in fear, knowing that she would never be able to agree to that, no matter how much power the gods offered in return.


    ¡°I would rather place faith in myself.¡± Daphne answered, and Alfred nodded.


    ¡°I would as well, but we rarely have that luxury.¡± Alfred stated, before popping the cork from the glass vial and downing the contents.

 Chapter 147 – Floor 13: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 147</u> ¨C Floor 13: Part 8


    For Daphne, the training was brutal. She was brought to her breaking point, both physically and mentally, before it was over. It didn¡¯t help that the weather went from wet and dreary to outright hostile. Gusts of wind that could knock a man off his feet and accompanied by rain so cold that it was nearly snow.


    As hard as it was on Daphne, it nearly killed Alfred. If it weren¡¯t for a supply of medicines and curative magics by the garrisoned Mages, supplemented by a significant amount of Elixirs by his false brother Aiden, Alfred would have lost his life in the north.


    As it stood, by the time the army was deemed ¡®adequate¡¯ by its commanders, the weather had cleared, and Alfred no longer required the assistance of external methods to remain somewhat healthy. Still frail, he was to be in the reserve forces at the rear of the army when it eventually marched.


    For now, it was time for them to be ¡®blooded.¡¯


    With the changing weather, the sun finally appeared, and the ever-present grey clouds dispersed. The weather warmed, and the muddy ground dried. But rather than cheer at the presence of the sun, those stationed at the garrison and the army that prepared to march north felt a sense of unease.


    Those who had been posted here for longer than a few seasons knew that the Demi-Beasts would soon attack. Vicious, hungry and eager for the rich lands of Anglia, only the wall and the forces that guarded them protected the kingdom from invasion.


    Daphne had never seen a Demi-Beast, but she had read descriptions and seen the creatures'' paintings. Half-human and half-animal, they had many species in their ranks. Stronger and more resilient than humans, they also breed rapidly.


    Only the organization of humanity kept the tide of Demi-Beasts from overwhelming them, and a single other factor made all the difference. Humans grew stronger upon slaying a Demi-Beast. With each death, Aether would suffice the air and ground, leeching into their bodies and enhancing their abilities and strength.


    It was a well-known fact and one of the only reasons that people volunteered to be garrisoned on the wall. Each of the Knights and the members of the Mage Tower had spent time here, fighting and killing Demi-Beasts.


    The difference between someone blooded in the conflict and those who had not was significant. The army could not survive the north without first improving themselves in battle on the wall.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Daphne stood on the castle battlements with the other student mages and looked out over the grassy field to the north. There were no trees for miles, allowing for an unimpeded view of the coming army of Demi-Beasts.


    Thousands strong, they were just the vanguard of monsters. These creatures were part of tribes closest to the wall. Daphne leaned over the parapet and allowed her mana to increase her eyesight.


    There were several tribes combined for this assault: the Wererats with their human bodies and faces with rat-like ears and long, sharp teeth. They had skin covered in black or grey fur, and they gripped weapons in their long-fingered hands.


    There were the Bearfolk, large grizzlies that walked on two legs and used their paws in a similar way to a human. They favoured massive axes and wide-bladed swords. Covered in armour made of iron and steel, these formidable monsters shook the ground as they walked.


    Lastly came the Dhampir, their features so similar to a human that they could walk amongst them if it weren¡¯t for the pointy, batlike ears and two long fangs that protruded from their mouths.


    It was said that the ancestor Beast of the Dhampir was a blood-drinking bat that had fed on a dying god, gaining immortality and the ability to take on human form. Legends emerged of a creature that haunted the lands east of Europe, feeding on everyone that crossed its path.


    Eventually, that monster bred with humans and created the line of Dhampir that crossed the sea and came to Anglia. Supernaturally strong, their only weakness was the lust for blood they shared with their ancestor. It made the other Demi-Beast tribes wary of them.


    Daphne turned to look at the garrisoned troops that lined the wall. Dozens of feet off the ground, they wielded spears and crossbows, interspersed by large cannons and the occasional gunpowder rifle. It was a formidable force; the humans outnumbered the Demi-Beasts for now.


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    That would likely change when more of the tribes gathered. They needed to eliminate this group as quickly as possible and prepare for the next encounter.


    Daphne clenched a staff in her hands; the magical item would enhance the effect of her spells and reduce the fatigue caused by using her magic for extended periods of time. Alfred lacked a staff as he stood next to her, still bundled up in his thick robes and his hood up as if it were winter instead of the middle of summer.


    ¡°Why do they bother? Can¡¯t they see that they don¡¯t stand a chance?¡± Alfred whispered to himself. He didn¡¯t expect an answer, but Marten provided one anyway. The Knight was wearing his armour, the steel polished to a mirror-like finish. He had a tabard over it; the cloth was red and gold with a large griffon on the front.


    His sword was belted on his side; Marten didn¡¯t expect to need it today. This battle would be fought with arrows, cannons and spears.


    ¡°I doubt they see anything through their haze of bloodlust. We¡¯re facing the cannon fodder, the lowest of the low, the ones that didn¡¯t quite take to their Beast blood. All they care about is reaching us and feeding on our corpses. It¡¯s the ones in the rear that you really need to worry about.¡± Marten explained, drawing their attention to dozens of black-robed figures in the rear. They were huddled together, talking amongst themselves. Daphne could see a glow of magic around them; several had rune-covered staffs in their hands.


    ¡°Shamans. Demi-Beast Necromancers and Warlocks .¡± Marten stated, spitting after he said the name. He had tangled with them before, and those creatures would be responsible for most of the deaths on the wall.


    Alfred leaned forward to study the distant figures more carefully. They had learned about the Demi-Beast Shamans at the University, their strange and unholy dark arts that could drain the life from the world around them.


    ¡°They don¡¯t care if they lose their whole force. It¡¯s a win-win situation for them. If they make it through our defences, they¡¯ll have access to the south. If they lose, they¡¯ll gather most of the Aether released here today and use it for their rituals. Bastards.¡± Marten cursed.


    ¡°We should target them directly. Our magics may not reach that far, but I¡¯m sure Aiden could-¡± Daphne suggested, only to be cut off by Marten.


    ¡°The Prince isn¡¯t getting involved in this fight. The army needs to be blooded, not rely on the Prince and his Blessings. It¡¯s for the best; otherwise, once we leave the safety of the walls and head north, you¡¯ll all be too weak to survive.¡± Marten finished.


    There wasn¡¯t much more to say, and their conversation ended when the first of the cannons fired their salvo toward the approaching Demi-Beasts. Great gouts of fire shot toward the air and showered dirt, debris and bodies onto the field.


    Daphne felt the stones beneath her feet shake with every shot from the giant cannons. Their large iron balls would leave gouges into the ground, crushing everything in their path before the explosive inside detonated, leaving nothing but a crater behind.


    The Demi-Beasts didn¡¯t slow their charge; the Dhampirs were the first to enter into the range of the crossbows and rifles. They may lack the weaknesses of some of the other Demi-Beast tribes, such as an allergy to silver or an aversion to fire, but that didn¡¯t mean they were immune to arrows and bullets.


    Daphne saw the crossbow bolts fly toward the enemy, darkening the sky above with their number before landing. Hundreds fell immediately, while hundreds more were injured. Another volley reached the Demi-Beasts, along with more cannon fire, before the first of the Dhampir leapt onto the wall.


    The enchanted stones sizzled and cracked, burning the flesh of the Demi-Beasts as they stubbornly clung to the side of the wall. Climbing up swiftly, they were met with more crossbows and silver-tipped spears that drove them back or flung them from the wall, where they landed on the ground dozens of feet below.


    Only a handful of Dhampir remained by the time the Wererats and Bearfolk reached the wall. These were quickly finished off, and the humans turned their attention to the other tribes. The armour of the Bearfolk was thick, heavy and crude, but it did an adequate job of protecting them.


    Of the thousand or so Bearfolk that had assaulted the wall, only a few dozen had died in the initial volleys. These massive creatures were strong and resilient, shrugging off wounds that would have killed a human.


    They dug their massive paws into the stone wall in supernatural strength and rapidly ascended. Met by spears and crossbow bolts, the Bearfolk were only momentarily stopped before they reached the top. Their losses mounted as they began to carve their way through the army; each Bearfolk that died took nearly half a dozen men and women with them.


    By the time the battle was over, the sun was beginning to set. The top of the wall and the field in front of it were covered in bodies. Thousands of humans had died, along with every single one of the Demi-Beasts that assaulted them.


    The Shamans had fled, taking with them whatever Aether they could recover and growing stronger for their next assault. The losses here meant nothing to them. There would always be more Demi-Beasts to hurl against the wall, while Aether was much more precious.


    That night, when Daphne was in her bed trying to sleep, she couldn¡¯t shake the images from the day''s events. This was just a prelude to what was to come. Thousands of deaths were just the price that needed to be paid in order to grow stronger.


    And it was effective. Everyone who fought could feel the power of the Aether around them; their muscles improved, and the mana within their bodies became denser.


    When sleep finally came, it was interrupted by strange chants erupting into the night.


    The shamans had returned.

 Chapter 148 – Floor 13: Part 9

    <u>Chapter 148</u> ¨C Floor 13: Part 9


    That night, Daphne witnessed horrors that would stay with her forever. The things the Shamans did, what they were capable of doing to not only the humans they were fighting but the Demi-Beast members of their own tribe, kept her from sleeping.


    Waves of corrupting magic that would etch stone like acid drain the life from the environment, and any unfortunate soul unlucky enough to be caught in its path swept through the battlefield and crashed against the wall like an ocean wave.


    Necromancers raised the dead and used them as weapons against the living. Accumulated Aether was driven into the bodies of the Demi-Beasts without regard to the consequence or pain it caused, turning them into twisted, hulking mutations with additional limbs and no thoughts beyond killing.


    Against this onslaught of nightmares, the human defenders atop the wall faced them with spears, crossbows and a continuing bombardment of cannon fire that tore the ground apart. But their losses were shocking even with all of their training, organization, and protection of the high, magic-enhanced wall.


    Daphne watched her comrades being torn apart by claws and teeth, devoured alive by monsters and the summoned dead. Even the mage students were not spared. The Shamans seemed to be unusually focused on their location, sending their magics against them in an attempt to wipe them out.


    Daphne and her fellow mages sent fire and lightning back in response, and the air above the wall was filled with explosions. Magic collided and was countered. It was as beautiful as it was deadly.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    When the sun finally rose, it was to utter silence that was only broken by the occasional moan from the injured and the dying. Healers walked amongst rows of humans, using their magics and gods'' powers to heal and help ease their suffering.


    There were no Demi-Beasts left; they had died to the last, along with the Shamans that led them. It hadn¡¯t been the mages that succeeded in killing them; it had taken a cadre of Knights to eliminate that threat.


    Covered in sweat and feeling more tired than she had ever recalled being in her entire life, Daphne sat on the stone steps that led to the castle and leaned against the frigid walls. She stared over the battlements at the destruction.


    The pristine green field was gone, replaced by ground that looked as if giant sections had been scooped out. The mud had a reddish tinge, and the ground couldn¡¯t soak up all the blood, leaving it in puddles around the bodies.


    There were so many of them. They were everywhere, some intact, but many of them were in pieces. Daphne was numb to the violence; her stomach had long since been emptied, and she didn¡¯t think she would ever feel the desire to eat again.


    In a distant section of the wall, workers were already picking up stones and repairing a large gap that had been broken into the barrier. That had been caused by a massive undead monster, an unholy amalgamation of bodies that reeked of death and Aether.


    It had taken Aiden¡¯s direct intervention to stop it. The Prince had used a single strike from Excalibur to put an end to its attack, a mana-infused slash that had split the monster in half. It had also inspired the troops to resist, stiffening the defences.


    Now, the troops garrisoned here looked at Prince Aiden with near worship. They believed he was capable of anything, and maybe he was. Daphne wasn¡¯t sure of the limits of the imposter Prince¡¯s strength. Every time she thought she knew his threshold, he would pull back another layer and surprise her.


    ¡°How are you?¡± Alfred asked as he came down the steps. He looked better; his skin wasn¡¯t so pale, and he seemed slightly less frail. It appeared the Aether in the air helped his constitution.


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    ¡°Tired. I¡¯m more worried about you.¡± Daphne replied as she looked up at her friend. Alfred had been with Aiden all night, practically tied to the man¡¯s hip. The False Prince took his duty to protect Alfred seriously, not letting him out of his sight during the battle.


    She had thought it was foolish to expose him to so much danger. Aiden had walked the wall the entire night. While others commanded the defenders and the Knights, Aiden had ultimate command and hadn¡¯t stayed safely behind the castle¡¯s walls.


    He had been in the thick of it, dragging Alfred along with him.


    In retrospect, Alfred was probably in the safest position of them all, considering Aiden¡¯s power.


    ¡°I¡¯m worried about all of us. I thought I knew what to expect, but this is unimaginable. There¡¯s no way to mentally prepare for this.¡± Alfred said as he sat down on the stone step next to her, and he gestured vaguely toward the battlefield.


    Army troops had begun to collect the bodies into piles, using horses, mules and oxen to haul them by cart to large pyres already burning from collected peat and coal.


    Mages held in reserve, and part of the regular garrison followed behind, filling in the holes with conjured earth or smoothing out the soil. They wanted a clear line of sight for when the next group of Demi-Beasts arrived.


    ¡°Aiden seems unaffected. I saw him last night, watching the fighting. I don¡¯t know if he has any emotions at all; his eyes were as dead as those bodies out there.¡± Daphne muttered. She drew her cloak closer around her body against a sudden cold wind that came down from the north.


    ¡°He talked to me last night. I think I know why he wasn¡¯t shaken up about the battle. He¡¯s seen a lot worse. I can¡¯t imagine what kind of hellscapes and horrors he¡¯s seen for him not to bat an eye at what happened last night.¡± Alfred explained.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to go north, Alfred. Not with him at the head of the army.¡± Daphne confessed, and Alfred gave her a small, understanding smile.


    ¡°Not so eager to have him teach you his magic?¡± Alfred teased in an attempt to cheer her up. Daphne snorted and shook her head.


    ¡°He can keep it if it means I have to go through more of this.¡± Daphne replied.


    ¡°Good, you¡¯ve learned an important lesson. Nothing comes for free in this life, especially when the gods are involved.¡± A familiar voice spoke from the top of the stairs behind them. They both turned to see ¡®Aiden¡¯ walking down the steps.


    The man who claimed his brother¡¯s identity was still wearing armour. He wore it like he was born in it, further solidifying the image he had of a combat veteran. Aiden was peeling an apple with a nearly foot-long knife that had the tell-tale glow of a magical item. Popping a piece into his mouth, he chewed it as he sat down next to the pair.


    ¡°You¡¯re right; last night wasn¡¯t that bad compared to some of the places I¡¯ve been. The number of casualties is still coming in, but it looks like it was only one in fifteen that died. I expected it to be higher, to be honest. I figure that by the time we¡¯re ready to march north, we¡¯ll have lost one in ten.¡± Aiden described it nonchalantly, and Daphne stood up in anger.


    ¡°How can you be so callous! These are people¡¯s lives you¡¯re talking about! They have families and friends, and you¡¯re talking about them like they are just numbers or objects!¡± Daphne shouted. Alfred winced at her tone of voice.


    Aiden was powerful enough, both physically and politically, that he could punish her quite easily if he wanted to. But, as always, Aiden showed little reaction to her outburst. He treated her disrespect like he did most things, with casual indifference.


    He kept peeling his apple, cutting off small pieces and popping them into his mouth as Daphne¡¯s anger slowly faded, replaced by the chill of knowing she had just yelled at someone incredibly dangerous.


    ¡°Where I¡¯m from, or rather, in the places I¡¯ve been, we sometimes earn titles. They¡¯re sort of like nicknames, or maybe you could call them monikers. They can tell you a little about a person before you even meet them.¡± Aiden described. His knife didn¡¯t stop peeling, and soon there was nothing left but the core. He threw it over the side of the battlement before continuing.


    ¡°Anyway, you usually have to be someone really good or bad to earn a title. Not every person can just give themselves a moniker and have it stick. It¡¯s the kind of thing that even the gods are aware of, it becomes a part of you.¡± Aiden stood up and looked down at Daphne, his blue eyes locked onto hers, and, for a moment, she could imagine the sorts of horrors this man had seen.


    ¡°I can be so callous about those men and women dying because I¡¯ve seen much worse, time and time again. I earned the title ¡®The Enduring¡¯ because, unlike here, where only one in fifteen died, I survived battles where I was the only survivor. Over and over and over again. There was just me and fields of the dead.¡± Aiden turned away, and Daphne sagged in relief to be away from his gaze.


    ¡°If you want to ¡®Endure¡¯ like I did, you should start looking at them as numbers and objects as well. Or, even if you do survive, you¡¯ll lose your sanity. It¡¯s easier to move on when you force yourself to not care.¡±


    With that sentence lingering in the air, Aiden left them.

 Chapter 149 – Floor 13: Part 10

    <u>Chapter 149</u> ¨C Floor 13: Part 10


    It turned out that Aiden was wrong. By the time the army marched north under a weak September sun and against a north-eastern wind that blew off the sea, they had suffered a twenty percent causality rate.


    1 in 5 of the men and women who marched north would never return home. But those that remained were hardened veterans after only a few months of fighting on the wall. The Demi-Beast tribes kept sending their forces against them, and the Aether accumulated in the defender''s bodies with each they slayed.


    The Bearfolk bolstered their numbers with additional sub-tribes. White-furred and massive Polars that could rip a man in half with their bare hands, brown Grizzlys with their heavy armour and large weapons, there were even variants amongst them that were more human-like.


    The were-beasts were the most numerous. Wererats and Werewolves, along with dozens of different animals. The method of becoming a Were-beast was simple; their ancestor was an ancient mage that had experimented on people and animals in an attempt to create a new race of superior beings.


    The curse they carried were passed on through their bite, turning a human into a were-beast. But, thankfully, few were turned in this way. The hunger inside them usually meant humans were consumed rather than given the curse.


    The ancestor himself had been consumed by his creations centuries ago.


    Every tribe and variant of the Demi-beast had made an appearance attacking the wall by the time the army was ready to march north. The ground in front of the wall was soaked in blood; their muddy footprints would fill with the pungent, red liquid as they walked.


    But the army had grown strong. There could be little comparison in how they were now versus when they had first arrived on the wall. Their bodies were more robust, capable of taking damage that would have killed them a month ago. They wielded magic weapons that used the mana within them, and the mage''s repertoire of spells increased.


    At their head rode Prince Aiden on a black horse as if he were born on it. They had witnessed him pull a small statue out of the air and place it on the ground. At his command, Aether and mana swirled around it, giving life to the creature.


    Wearing his black and silver armour, with the sword ¡®Excalibur¡¯ sheathed at his hip, he was an inspiring figure to everyone who saw him. With the exception of a pair that rode their horses behind him.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°That has to be one of the dumbest things I have ever heard.¡± Mathew said, shaking his head.


    He stroked ¡®Midnight¡¯s¡¯ mane, glad to have the magical horse back in his possession. He had thought the statue to be gone forever, but, to his pleasant surprise, it had been available for purchase from the shop once again.


    He hadn¡¯t even hesitated to buy it. Mathew had tried to ride the horses here in Anglia but had trouble with them. The fact was, he was a terrible rider. He didn¡¯t know how, and it was only the fact that ¡®Midnight¡¯ was magical and could anticipate his commands that he could ride a horse.


    ¡°It¡¯s the law!¡± Daphne said from just behind him. She rode a brown mare; the stablemaster had assured her that it wouldn¡¯t scare easily, even when they fought the Demi-Beasts. She had trained in horse riding since she was a child and handled the mare easily.


    Mathew snorted at her response.


    ¡°It¡¯s a stupid law.¡± He replied.


    The pair were trying to ¡®advise¡¯ him on the customs and responsibilities of his role as Crown Prince. It was a hard task that had nearly been impossible when Mathew was in Londinium or on the wall and could avoid talking to his tutors or advisors.


    But, while they were marching, he had nothing to do and nowhere to go. Alfred and Daphne had been stuck to him all day, hopping from topic to topic. They were impressed with how quickly ¡®Aiden¡¯ learned and retained knowledge, but they despaired at his attitude.


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    ¡°It makes sense when you understand the history of the decision. There have been times when bloodlines have nearly ended; the law was designed to prevent that from happening.¡± Alfred intervened before Daphne could respond.


    He was often the mediator between the two, although ¡®Aiden¡¯ didn¡¯t show any outward emotion concerning Daphne¡¯s outbursts. He seemed to find it amusing if anything, and Alfred swore that he was deliberately needling her at times.


    ¡°Oh, I understand why it exists. But that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s not a stupid law. Marriage contracts signed hundreds of years ago; children preselected for their roles long before they were born? That¡¯s dumb.¡± Mathew held up his hand and counted on his fingers.


    ¡°First son becomes a lord, second a Knight. Third joins the clergy, and the rest get married off? What if the first son is an absolute wreck, and the second is a slob? It should go by merit, at the very least. Or, better yet, let everyone make their own decisions.¡± Mathew finished, and Daphne opened up her mouth to speak, shut it with a ¡®click¡¯, then tried again.


    ¡°I¡­actually agree with you.¡± Daphne replied, and Alfred looked at her in surprise.


    ¡°Miracles do happen.¡± Alfred muttered.


    ¡°So, if I were to stay here as ¡®Crown Prince,¡¯ which can¡¯t happen by the way, then I would be forced to marry ¡®What¡¯s her name¡¯?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Evelyn Toth.¡± Alfred helpfully provided.


    ¡°Yeah, her. From what I could see, she''s nice enough based on the few times I met her. It just seems so crazy to marry her off to a stranger because her grandfather and yours were allies.¡± Mathew said, shaking his head.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have marriage contracts in your world?¡± Alfred asked. They were far enough away from anyone else that he didn¡¯t need to watch what he said. Although, he doubted anyone would believe that ¡®Aiden¡¯ was an imposter from another world.


    ¡°We do, or did. I believe so. Things are a bit fuzzy now after so long. It''s so strange. I can remember everything we¡¯ve done in the last few months with crystal clear memory, but I can¡¯t remember much about home. It¡¯s the damnedest thing.¡± Mathew stated in frustration.


    He paused for a moment before turning to look at Alfred.


    ¡°When I leave and you¡¯re Crown Prince, will you need to marry her?¡± Mathew asked curiously. Alfred blinked in surprise, and his skin flushed red with embarrassment.


    ¡°I¡­I never thought of it. I¡¯m not sure.¡± Alfred stammered, and Daphne snickered at his response.


    ¡°He had his own marriage contract, but its been voided for years.¡± Daphne explained, and Mathew grinned.


    ¡°Oh? Who was the lucky lady?¡± Mathew asked teasingly.


    ¡°You know her; you had to fight a duel because of her. Camille Rosen.¡± Daphne said, and Mathew sucked in a breath of air.


    ¡°Her!? Wow, you dodged a bullet. Is that why the Rosens hate your guts?¡± Mathew inquired, and Alfred shrugged.


    ¡°Yes. It was years ago, when Aiden died. There was hope that I would get better, that my sickness would be a passing thing. The Rosens used the opportunity to secure the betrothal; when it was clear that I would not become Crown Prince, they leveraged their position.¡± Alfred explained.


    ¡°Well, things are different now. We¡¯ll get you healthy, kill these Demi-Beasts, and you can marry Evelyn Toth. Everybody is a winner.¡± Mathew said, and Alfred glanced at Daphne. She didn¡¯t seem too pleased with that announcement.


    ¡°Speaking of Demi-Beasts, it looks like we¡¯ll finally have some entertainment.¡± Mathew said. Up ahead were hundreds of large, hulking monsters. They each had two heads and were nearly ten feet tall. They wielded a collection of clubs the size of horses and crude iron blades that were half rusty.


    A scout came to Mathew¡¯s side and reported.


    ¡°Milord, the Ettins have requested single combat against our ¡®champion.¡¯ Word has apparently reached them regarding your prowess, and they wish to see if the rumours are true.¡± The scout reported.


    ¡°They¡¯ll attack us anyway, regardless of what we do.¡± Daphne added. She had read extensively about the northern tribes. The Ettins were as bloodthirsty and barbaric as the rest but incredibly dim-witted. They probably wanted to eliminate the strongest human first so that they could crush the others.


    No sane person would go along with the request.


    ¡°Excellent. Tell them we accept.¡± Mathew said, looking at the scout and nodding. He turned to look at Alfred and smiled evilly.


    ¡°Looks like you¡¯re up. Let me see what you can do.¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Alfred knelt on the ground and tried unsuccessfully to catch his breath. The mana within him, normally a swirling torrent of energy, was now cold and absent. The magic had wrecked his body; each spell leached some of his vitality and left him shaking and weak.


    He coughed harshly, leaving blood on his hand as the world distorted and shifted. Alfred was lightheaded and felt as if he could pass out at any moment.


    The sounds of fighting that had been raging around him were now silent. The Ettin were all dead; hundreds of large bodies were being dragged into pyres that left a trail of black smoke in the sky. The smell of Aether was thick in the air, and his cough grew worse as he inhaled it.


    A small potion entered his vision, a glass vial filled with a red liquid. He looked up to see ¡®Aiden¡¯ standing before him. His ¡®brother¡¯ was looking to the side where the body of the Ettin he had faced in combat was still smouldering from the magical fire he unleashed.


    ¡°We¡¯ll make a Crown Prince out of you yet.¡±

 Chapter 150 – Floor 13: Part 11

    <u>Chapter 150</u> ¨C Floor 13: Part 11


    As the army marched further north and the tribes of Demi-Beasts were driven back or destroyed, the evidence of their centuries of atrocities was uncovered.


    Vast pits of human bones, huts and structures covered in leather made of skin and entire markets displaying their ¡®goods¡¯ were revealed to the army. But worse than that, there were human slaves being herded like cattle, raised to be slaughtered for food or worked until they died of exhaustion.


    Daphne had thought the Demi-Beasts were merely barbaric, but the things she saw were sadistic and cruel. She hadn¡¯t been the only one to empty her stomach on the roadside as they liberated another camp of human survivors.


    They found humans that had been raised in captivity their entire lives. There was not much the army could do except send them to the wall for the garrisoned troops to take care of.


    The things they found fueled their rage and hatred toward the Demi-Beasts, and by the time October came to an end, they had liberated a large portion of the north. But, just as they thought their campaign was coming to an end, they were met with their greatest challenge yet.


    An enormous force of Demi-Beasts occupied the rolling green hills in front of them. All the Demi-Beasts tribes of the north had gathered their warriors for a final attack on the human army. Tens of thousands of demi-beasts from dozens of different tribes had put aside their differences to face this threat.


    On the human side were the remaining forces that equalled the Demi-Beasts in strength. They had significant losses on their march north but also gained additional Aether. In a straight battle with no other factors, it was hard to say which side would come out on top after today¡¯s clash.


    But there were beings on the field that could tip the balance in either direction.


    The humans had Prince Aiden, a formidable force whose legend grew after every victory. Already, people in Londinium and throughout Anglia were calling him the ¡®Red Prince of the North¡¯ after his endless slaughter of the Demi-Beasts that had plagued humanity for centuries.


    He killed the champions and strongest members of each of the Demi-Beast tribes without apparent effort and never took a wound.


    But the Demi-Beasts had a guardian of their own.


    An immense figure stood in front of the Demi-Beast army. Fifteen feet tall, its skin was a grey-green, and muscles bulged under the layer of furs and magical steel armour it wore. Humanoid, the creature had large tusks protruding from its lower, and its long, black hair was gathered in the back of its head in a warrior¡¯s topknot.


    This was an ancestral beast, the last one remaining in Anglia. An Ancient Ogre, Rath, it had been responsible for killing or driving off the other Ancestral Beasts from the north and claiming the territory for itself.


    All the Demi-Beast tribes paid tribute to Rath in order to live here, paying in human slaves and precious minerals. His children were arrayed behind him, Ogres that only reached his chest but shared his skin colour and features.


    It was said that Rath had been born from the Earth when humans were still living in caves. There had been conflict between him and the Romans, whose military might and magical learnings had been responsible for driving him out of Greece, then Germania, until he fled to Anglia.


    Rath bore a scar on his right cheek that ran from just under his eye to his lip. It pulled his face into a permanent scowl. Arthur gave Rath that scar when they fought in front of the wall before Rath retreated to the north to hide.


    There was a powerful force of mana around Rath, and Daphne shivered in fear as the Ancestral Beast, the creator of an entire race of monsters, stepped forward and shouted. His voice echoed off the hills around him, and the ground rumbled at his words.


    ¡°Humans! Behold and despair! I will rip you apart and feed you to my children! Some will be slaves, and you will pray to your gods for the release of death!¡± Rath yelled. He reached up to his back with his right hand and gripped a hilt that protruded above his shoulder.


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    The sword he wielded was more of a slab of hard iron than an actual blade. Dull and rusty, it was a dozen feet long and six feet wide. When he swung it through the air, it created a gale that destroyed the ground around him and sent dirt flying into the air.


    ¡°Rath! Rath! Rath! Rath!¡± The Demi-Beasts chanted.


    They banged their weapons on shields or stomped their feet onto the ground rhythmically. Rath seemed to draw on their cheers and devotion. Aether gathered around his feet, and a blue haze formed. Clouds obscured the formerly bright midday sun.


    Daphne felt restricted, and her mana turned sluggish in her body, and she refused her call. The force Rath emitted throughout the human army caused them to weaken and lose heart. They were on the edge of breaking.


    At this point, a lone figure emerged from the line of humans. Riding a horse as dark as night, Prince Aiden moved toward the army of Demi-Beasts. He was unaffected by the swirling miasma of Aether that Rath had gathered, and the forceful mana the Ancient Ogre possessed tried unsuccessfully to oppress him.


    Aiden drew his sword and raised it high above him. A streak of white light streaked skyward, cutting apart the oppressive atmosphere. The clouds retreated, and the sun once again shone overhead.


    As soon as Excalibur was drawn, Daphne felt like she could breathe again. A weight lifted off her shoulders, and her sluggish mana began to cycle quickly inside her chest.


    Rath grunted at the display of power, and he once again shouted across the distance.


    ¡°Human, you have a decent level of strength. It is a pity that you have met me this day and will not survive. Perhaps you will have better luck in your next life.¡± Rath said.


    The Ogre leapt from his position on the distance hill. His prodigious strength allowed him to sail through the air, and he landed in front of Aiden in a tremendous crash. His feet buried into the ground and left cracks in the earth as they raised a cloud of dust.


    Aiden¡¯s response was to merely climb down from his horse and send Midnight back into its ¡®statue¡¯ form before pocketing it. The magical Horse could anticipate his desires, but he still wasn¡¯t a skilled enough rider to fight from horseback.


    His feet were firmly planted on the ground, and Aiden raised Excalibur high into the air with both hands. Daphne watched the mana swirl around him for a moment, drawing on what was inside his body and the ambient mana around him before gathering it onto the edge of the blade.


    The attack was quicker than Daphne expected. Aiden slashed down with the blade, and a streak of white light shot out from the sword. It swept across the ground, carving a track into the grass and dirt as it shot toward Rath.


    The Ogre could barely respond by blocking the light with its own massive blade. The muscles on its arms bulged as Rath struggled to repel it. With a roar of anger and effort, he heaved upwards, and the white energy Aiden had struck with shot skyward, splitting the few remaining clouds above before dissipating.


    Rath panted with exertion. He was surprised by how powerful the human¡¯s attack was. It was nearly on the level of Arthur¡¯s strike that had scarred his face. Who was this human that dared enter his territory?


    ¡°Hahaha! You have my respect, human! Striking with your strongest attack at the very start of the battle was cunning, but it was useless. I am the Ancient Ogre, Rath! Earthborn and Mountain Strong!¡± Rath yelled.


    But Aiden ignored him. He was looking down at the sword in his hand with a clear expression of disgust. Daphne strained her ears to hear what Aiden was saying. He seemed to be cursing on the blade.


    ¡°That¡¯s it? You piece of garbage! With that much of my mana, you should have been able to do more than that! I knew swords were useless!¡± Aiden muttered, shaking the sword in his hand.


    ¡°Screw it. We¡¯ll do this the normal way.¡± Aiden finished. Looking up at the laughing Ogre, Aiden grinned.


    ¡°Alter Self: Heavy Bones.¡± His feet sunk into the ground a bit more as the weight of his bones tripled. Getting used to the weight, Aiden spoke again.


    ¡°Alter Self: Thick Skin.¡± Small scales covered Aiden¡¯s face and hands. The ridges made him look like he was covered in scars.


    ¡°Alter Self: Augmented Strength.¡± Aiden¡¯s muscles bulged grotesquely, and his biceps and legs doubled in size before retracting. Even through his armour, Daphne could see that he was more muscular and ¡®dense¡¯ than he was before.


    Having spoken his Blessings and gone through the required physical changes, Aiden leapt through the air similarly to Rath. He reached the still laughing Ogre in an instant, with both hands gripping his sword and raised overhead.


    Rath¡¯s laughter cut off abruptly, and he raised his sword which was nearly double the size of the tiny Aiden and lashed out with its dull steel edge. Daphne expected Aiden to be sent flying; the weight and proportions of the two warriors were on a completely different scale.


    To her shock, the Ogre was pushed backwards. A web of cracks spread out from Rath¡¯s blade when the weapons met with a deafening ¡®clang.¡¯


    The battle that followed would stay with Daphne and everyone who watched it for the rest of their lives. Aiden was unstoppable. Strong and agile, he dominated Rath. When the Ogre fell onto the ground, dead, after only a few minutes of fighting, both sides of the battlefield stared in stunned silence.


    The momentum of the conflict that followed was completely against the Demi-Beasts. They had witnessed an Ancestral Beast, the closest thing these creatures had to a god, fall before their eyes. When the war was over, and the north was free, Aiden¡¯s name began to spread beyond the shores of Anglia.


    For Mathew, the battle that followed was unimportant. It was the sound that he heard when Rath fell that had all of his attention.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯

 Chapter 151 – Floor 14: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 151</u> ¨C Floor 14: Part 1


    Congratulations!


    Floor 13: A Kingdom Besieged (Complete)


    Summary: As the Ancient Ogre Rath falls dead, the kingdom of Anglia has been freed from the threat of invasion from the north. As its Crown Prince, you have been instrumental in this task.


    Reward: None


    The words glitched and melted, forming a new sentence below.


    Good Work. Come To The Dead Island And Find Me.


    The words disappeared, only to be replaced with a new message.


    Floor 14: A Daring Rescue


    Summary: Far away from the shores of Anglia exists an island shrouded by fog. An island of death where the living dread to travel and most never return. There, deep beneath the surface of the earth, a prisoner awaits your arrival. Travel to this strange and mysterious land and free them from their imprisonment.


    Reward: ????


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The triumphant army marched through the streets of Londinium. Despite the late season, the road was covered with thrown flower petals, and the crowds were packed shoulder to shoulder the length of the parade route.


    Knights on horseback led the way; their armour shone brightly, and they proudly displayed their House banners. Hundreds of Knights were followed by the Mages; both students and members of the Mage Tower rode side by side; their grey robes were emblazoned with arcane symbols, and the glow of magic surrounded them.


    Behind them walked the infantry in orderly rows. Gripping spears and crossbows, they were a formidable sight made more dreadful by the demi-beast skulls they carried arrogantly on the end of pikes and beast furs draped across their shoulders.


    Finally came the person that everyone had come to see. The fabled Lost Prince, Aiden who had earned a new moniker to the populace, the Red Prince of the North. His legend had grown immensely in the time he had been gone. But it was his slaying of the Ancient Ogre Rath that had solidified his reputation as the defender of Anglia.


    Aiden wore his armour, the distinctive and strange black leather and silver steel that set him apart from others. Over the armour he wore a red and gold tabard that bore the golden griffin. Finally, a purple cloak had been draped over one of his shoulders, a Roman tradition for returning generals after a victorious campaign.


    The crowd cheered and screamed his name, and the whole of Londinium chanted.


    ¡°Aiden! Aiden! Aiden!¡±


    If they needed further proof of his deeds, the weapon of Rath was carried into the city by cart. The sword was so large that it needed four horses to pull it. It was cracked in half, and the crowd knew why. Aiden had split the weapon with Excalibur during his conflict with the Ogre, and the story has been retold in every tavern and household since then.


    The Prince looked on at the crowd calmy from atop his black horse, Midnight. The Magical steed didn¡¯t show the slightest hint of skittishness at the noise; it merely carried its rider toward the palace. Following behind him, at a distance, were his ¡®advisors.¡¯


    Alfred and Daphne had changed during their time on the campaign. Both had grown more capable and powerful from the Aether. Alfred¡¯s health had improved significantly, although he was still thin and frail compared to other people his age.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The pair were troubled by recent events. Aiden had been more withdrawn lately, barely speaking beyond a scant word, urging them to hurry back to Londinium. Something had happened after the battle with Rath, but Aiden refused to explain; he would just brush them off and tell them he would explain when they returned to the palace.


    Now, less than a mile from their destination, the pair were hesitant to hear what had disturbed the powerful prince.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°I need a ship.¡± Mathew stated.


    After meeting Albrecht and Margrit on the steps of the palace, he had been forced to once again listen to endless speeches and attend another celebration before he could finally get the King and Queen alone.


    ¡®Alone¡¯ was relative, as the room still contained a fair number of people. Apart from the three of them, there were also Alfred and Daphne in their role as his ¡®advisors.¡¯ Then there was Enalious and another Archmage that Mathew didn¡¯t know but who obviously was aware of his true identity.


    Then there were a half dozen Knights, including Marten, who may or may not know that he wasn¡¯t really ¡®Aiden.¡¯ Mathew had a hard time tracking who was privy to that information. Some of them were present when he first arrived on this Floor, but there were a few unfamiliar faces.


    It didn¡¯t matter; nothing Mathew said here was going to be a secret for long.


    ¡°For the liberation of the Orkneys? Surely, it is too late in the season for the campaign to start. You should rest, and we can discuss this in the spring when the weather is good for sailing.¡± Albrecht replied.


    ¡°No, not for the Orkneys. That would take dozens of ships to transport the army and the supplies needed. If Prince Aiden intended to liberate the Isles so soon, he would have stayed in the north and sent for the ships to meet him. What do you intend to do?¡± Margrit responded while frowning. The request was odd, but nothing was normal when it came to this representative of the gods.


    Mathew stood up from his chair and began to pace. He ran his hand through his hair as he muttered to himself before stopping and turning to Enalious.


    ¡°Does a ¡®Dead Island¡¯ off the coast of Anglia mean anything to you? Somewhere ¡®shrouded by fog that the living dread to travel?¡± He asked. The Archmage shook his head.


    ¡°There are many islands off the coast, and most of them are shrouded in fog, especially in the north.¡± Enalious replied. He turned to his fellow archmagus, a short and thin old man who had a long, white beard and eyebrows that nearly reached his cheeks.


    The old man thought for a moment before speaking to Mathew.


    ¡°It would help if we had context. Where is this inquiry originating from?¡± He asked. Mathew let out a breath and sat back in his chair.


    ¡°I have been tasked to free a prisoner from a ¡®dead island.¡¯ I don¡¯t know if it comes from the gods; the method of communicating the message was unusual. But I don¡¯t have much of a choice but to carry it out.¡± Mathew explained.


    The old man leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap.


    ¡°A ¡®prisoner¡¯ on a ¡®dead island¡¯ shrouded by fog, that the living dread to travel. That certainly narrows things down a bit.¡± He said as he nodded his head.


    ¡°Baltia was said to be such a place, but it was a difficult route to navigate when they traded in Amber and Aether Crystals. It was said their people were all killed by a calamity millennia ago, and their riches remained. There were many expeditions to find it, but most didn¡¯t return.¡± The Archmage explained.


    ¡°Those that did told of a place of great magic and an even greater evil. I would encourage you not to visit such a terrible place, but I fear you do not have an alternative.¡± Enalious added.


    ¡°Could you provide me with a crew?¡± Mathew asked Albrecht, who hesitated for a moment.


    ¡°I may be able to leverage your reputation to encourage a foolhardy crew. I agree with Enalious; can you resist this endeavour until the spring?¡± Albrecht asked as he assessed Alfred¡¯s progress. His health was improved, and with another six months, he would be more assured of his younger son''s ability to eventually take the role of Crown Prince.


    ¡°No. But you don¡¯t have to worry about me being lost at sea in a shipwreck. They only need to put me in sight of the island; I¡¯ll travel the rest of the way myself. I wouldn¡¯t be tasked with rescuing this prisoner if it were something I could not accomplish. The gods can be cruel and merciless, but they won¡¯t give out a mission that you have no hope of completing.¡± Mathew assured them.


    Within a week, Mathew was setting sail on a large, wooden ship that flew the golden griffin of the royal family on its mast. Despite his efforts to dissuade them, both Enalious and Daphne accompanied him on the voyage, along with a contingent of Knights led by Marten.


    Alfred had wanted to go as well, but the future of Anglia rested on his shoulders.


    Mathew leaned over the railing and looked out at the grey sea. Enalious had scoured the Mage Tower library for anything detailing Baltia and its location. It was said to be Northeast of Anglia, its location marked by a storm that was said to protect the island from would-be thieves and raiders.


    But Enalious also found something else in the library about the mysterious island. Or rather, a lack of something. Many books and records had been deliberately destroyed, concealing Anglia¡¯s dealing with the Island of Amber and Aether and any history they may share.


    It almost made Mathew eager to travel there and discover what was so important that someone went to so much trouble to conceal it.


    Almost. Mathew had learned that when it came to secrets and quests from the gods, they often had a way of trying to kill him.

 Chapter 152 – Floor 14: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 152</u> ¨C Floor 14: Part 2


    The ship lurched as it crashed into a giant wave. The sky was dark, and thick clouds stretched to the horizon and obscured the sun. Rain, whipped to extreme speed by the forceful winds, pelted the deck and the crew.


    Even the experienced sailors found it difficult to keep their feet and had to run lengths of rope across the deck to grab along with loops around their waists in the likely event someone was washed overboard.


    Mathew gripped a rope next to the captain and stared at the shadowy shape of the island in the distance. The Captain, a grizzled man who was darkly tanned and steady on his feet despite the ship¡¯s best attempt at throwing him to the deck, leaned toward Mathew and yelled to be heard over the wind and rain.


    ¡°This is as close as we can get! We can¡¯t stay here much longer; we¡¯ll be back in a day to pick you up!¡± He said, his words almost entirely carried away by the wind. Mathew nodded, indicating his understanding rather than trying to speak.


    Enalious and Daphne had been forced below deck by the crew, their presence a liability during a storm. They had wanted to accompany him to the island, but, with the storm, Mathew doubted the Wyvern could make it with the extra weight.


    Mathew slowly made his way to the bow of the ship, his hands never leaving the ropes the crew had strung across the deck. Once he was in a clear space, he undid the knots of the rope around his waist and tossed it onto the deck.


    Pulling out the Wyvern statue, Mathew forced his mana into the stone figure. It quickly expanded, coming to life and gaining the appearance of a living, breathing creature. It immediately huddled against the deck in the discomfort of the wind and freezing cold rain.


    Not hesitating, Mathew pumped more mana into his ¡®Enlarge¡¯ Blessing, allowing the Wyvern to expand to triple its previous size. He felt his mana reserves plummet, and he estimated that he could only maintain them for a few minutes.


    More than enough to fly to the island.


    The Wyvern was equipped with a saddle, and Mathew leapt onto its back and secured himself. With a mental command, he forced the creature to run forward and jump off the side of the ship. Spreading its wings, the wind caught the leathery skin, and Mathew was pushed into his saddle as it shot into the sky.


    The journey across the sea was rough. The wyvern dipped and turned as the winds shook it in each direction. It was forced downwards at one point, and Mathew felt weightless. The Wyvern righted itself just above the waves below and glided forward as the ship disappeared into the storm far behind them.


    Mathew wiped the water from his face and eyes with his hands and squinted at the approaching island. A mountain dominated the landscape, while the shoreline was only a thin stretch of beach before it began to rise in rock and dirt.


    He couldn¡¯t see any life at all on the island, and as he got closer, he saw that the ground was covered in ash. The mountain spewed out smoke, and a faint glow of light could be seen on the summit. The entire island was burnt and dead.


    However, there were signs of civilization. Ruined houses and the remains of roadways. There had been people here once, quite a few of them if the number of structures remaining was an indication. But a structure near the top of the mountain caught Mathew¡¯s eye.


    It was the remains of a half-finished tower. The surrounding land blocked it from his view, and only after the Wyvern had looped around the island did he see it. Made of black stone, it appeared to have been abandoned mid-construction.


    But it was the feeling the tower gave him that made Mathew take note of it. He could sense Aether within, a pulsating power that he had only felt when he was travelling through the Floors of the Tower of Avarice.


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    Could this ruined tower be another version of the Tower of Avarice, left abandoned and destroyed for some reason?


    Mathew would now gain answers to that question by flying in the sky around the island. The storm had abated now that he was above the land, and the clouds above swirled around the mountaintop as if they were the source of the violent wind and rain.


    In the calmness of the center of the storm, the Wyvern landed on the beach, and Mathew shrunk it back to its statue size and placed it back in his inventory. The island was eerily silent; only the lapping of the waves on the beach could be heard.


    There were no trees or plants, just a layer of ash that came up to his ankles and black stone and sand beneath. The air had the scent of Aether, the spicy smell that stung the nostrils and overpowered everything else.


    Mathew could feel the power here; the Aether brushed against his skin and soaked into the ground. There was a blue haze, almost invisible until becoming denser at a distance, like fog. Mathew could feel a thrumming in the ground, a vibration that disturbed the ash layer slightly.


    Although he wasn¡¯t an expert, he had learned some things during his decades in the Tower. Powerful magic had been conducted here and was continuing to affect the island.


    He trekked across the ¡®dead island,¡¯ passing through the ruins of a civilization wiped out by an unknown calamity. As Mathew came closer to the destroyed Tower, the amount of Aether around him grew stronger.


    By the time he reached the ruins, the Aether in the air made it difficult to breathe. If a normal person had been exposed to this amount, they would no doubt suffocate or have an extreme reaction.


    Mathew cycled the mana inside his body to filter the Aether and absorb it. If he were to check his status, he would no doubt see the Aether count rising rapidly. Still, it made him uncomfortable that this amount of Aether was polluting the ground and air of this island.


    And he still had no indication of what was causing it. It wasn¡¯t until he reached the Tower that he had hints of what happened. Aether Crystals protruded from the ground, reminding Mathew of the Floor with the World Tree.


    He cracked them off and placed them in his inventory for later while admiring the Tower¡¯s former glory. Amber decorated the elegant archways and toppled spires. They lay strewn across the ground, and even the layer of ash couldn¡¯t dim their brilliance.


    In the centre of the ruins, he found an entryway that led beneath the surface. Stairs had been carved from the rock, and Mathew could feel that the source of the Aether was below. There wasn¡¯t any danger; the ¡®Buzz¡¯ hadn¡¯t activated once since he had arrived, nor did he find anything alive to harm him.


    Magic-infused Amber had been embedded into the smooth stone walls, lighting the way down. As he descended, the silence grew more oppressive as the weight of the ceiling above him grew. The ash was absent here, but he found the occasional human bones, the only remnants that people had once been here.


    Aether wafted up from below, and Mathew had to work harder to overcome its effects.


    Finally, after what felt like an hour of walking, Mathew came to a large, open chamber. An enormous piece of magical amber hung from the ceiling, lighting the chamber like a noon-day sun. The room was circular, with a flat stone floor and walls covered in glowing runes and symbols that continued down onto the ground and toward the middle.


    More human remains littered the area, but time had left nothing but bones and scraps of clothing. Mathew¡¯s attention was immediately drawn to the center of the room.


    A man sat in a circle of glowing runes. A haze of blue aether surrounded him, but oddly, there was a space between his body and the Aether, as if an invisible wall was blocking it.


    He was young, wearing Knightly armour similar to what Mathew had seen in Anglia. His hair was long and blond, and the tabard that covered his armour bore a gold griffin on the front. As soon as Mathew entered the area, the man leapt to his feet with a grin and shouted.


    ¡°Finally! The gods only know how long I¡¯ve been waiting for someone to liberate me from this prison. I felt like Prometheus, chained to a rock for all eternity. Well!? Don¡¯t just stand there; get me the hell out of here!¡± The man yelled at Mathew.


    Mathew ignored what he was saying and studied the stranger carefully. He had an aura of mana about him, restrained behind some kind of barrier that was preventing him from leaving. There was something else as well, a vague connection between the man and some distance point.


    A spiritual link that Mathew had seen before, several times, in fact. There was only a single reason why such a bond would exist.


    ¡°You¡¯re an Apostle.¡± Mathew said, a tinge of disgust in his tone.


    Apostles were powerful; there was no doubt about that. They received special attention from their Deity, allowing them to have Blessings and Disciplines beyond the norm. But it meant becoming a servant of a single god without the ability to say ¡®no¡¯ or refuse a task.


    ¡°Ahh, caught that did you? I thought you may have been a bit slow on the uptake; what with you just standing there looking at me like a deer in headlights. Yeah, I¡¯m an Apostle of Righteous Subjugation. Name¡¯s Arthur, perhaps you heard of me? You probably did if you spent time in Anglia.¡±


    Arthur, the founding king of Anglia, gave Mathew a wink and chuckled.

 Chapter 153 – Floor 14: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 153</u> ¨C Floor 14: Part 3


    ¡°So, enough chit-chat, hurry up and disable the barrier.¡± Arthur urged Mathew impatiently, gesturing to the glowing symbols and runes on the ground that ringed him. Instead of complying, Mathew slowly walked around the chamber with his arms folded and carefully studied the Apostle and the runes.


    ¡°No, not until you answer my questions. You can start by explaining how you ended up trapped here.¡± Mathew instructed, and Arthur let out a disgruntled huff.


    ¡°What does it matter?! You¡¯ve been ordered to release me. Do it, and we can move on to more important things.¡± Arthur exclaimed. The Apostle began to pace in the small area that had been left to him inside his prison as he continued to curse and argue.


    Mathew was unperturbed. He was willing to wait as long as necessary to receive the answer. He wasn¡¯t going to release an Apostle without understanding what had happened. He took out a small folding chair from his inventory, a simple wooden item that had cost a single unit of Aether, and sat down.


    ¡°Fine! Gods damn it all, you¡¯re a stubborn one. No wonder Righteous Subjugation took an interest in you.¡± Arthur muttered. He stopped pacing and faced Mathew once more.


    ¡°You saw the Tower outside? That¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡± Arthur explained.


    ¡°To destroy it?¡± Mathew asked, and Arthur shook his head angrily.


    ¡°No, you dunce! To build it! This tower was going to be a focal point, a way to connect this Earth to the infinite other versions of it! A new doorway for the Tower of Avarice!¡± Arthur exclaimed as he threw up his hands into the air.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Since when did the Tower of Avarice require a focal point? It usually just ¡®appears¡¯ in a new world.¡± Mathew argued, and Arthur chuckled.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand!¡± Arthur mocked, and Mathew began to suspect that the long period of isolation had affected the Apostle mentally. He didn¡¯t look like someone who had spent centuries or more in a single place, trapped behind an invisible wall.


    That was another question that Mathew had for later.


    ¡°Of course you don¡¯t understand, so I¡¯ll keep it simple! Your Earth, my Earth, and most other people in the Tower¡¯s Earth have something in common. All the gods share them!¡± Arthur shouted as if this was a grand reveal.


    When he realized that Mathew had no idea of the significance of his statement, he sighed and continued.


    ¡°Alright, so. Everyone gets a piece of the pie! Belief in the gods, or fear of them, generates Aether. The Tower arrives and announces that the gods can create miracles and grant wishes. Boom! The process starts and can never be stopped. The world generates Aether, and all the gods get a portion of it. Do you want more? Then get a champion to represent you in the Tower and have them visit worlds in your Demesne. More work they do for you? The more Aether you get.¡± Arthur clarified.


    ¡°Okay. But that still doesn¡¯t explain why you needed to build a Tower on this world.¡± Mathew countered. Arthur looked at Mathew like he was a simpleton.


    ¡°I thought that was obvious. This world is pristine!¡± Arthur hissed out the word.


    ¡°Pristine?¡± Mathew frowned, still not grasping the reason for Arthur¡¯s involvement in this world.


    ¡°Pristine! Untouched! Unspoiled! A Perfect Peach, Perfect for Plucking!¡± Arthur shouted out, laughing and twirling as he did so. When he saw that Mathew still had no response to his words, he stopped, and his expression grew cold and severe.


    Arthur¡¯s eyes widened in surprise as if he had just had a profound realization.


    ¡°Wait, don¡¯t tell me¡­ it¡¯s not that you¡¯re too dense to understand; it¡¯s that you¡¯re a child! How old are you anyway?! Less than a century, no doubt about that. What floor are you currently on!?¡± Arthur asked impatiently.


    ¡°14¡± Mathew replied, and Arthur stepped backward from the barrier in shock.


    ¡°14? Lord Righteous above, has our demesne fallen so far that we need to rely on a tenderfooted newbie to rescue your apostle?¡± Arthur muttered.


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    ¡°I take it you are currently on a much higher Floor than I am?¡± Mathew asked. He ignored the jab about his Floor. He had thought that Arthur had access to his Floor notifications, but it was more likely that he only had the ability to input new messages through some power of Righteous Subjugation or possibly communicate with his deity and have it do it.


    ¡°52. I¡¯ve spent more years than I can count in the Tower. A thousand? Five thousand? Ten? And now I¡¯m relying on you to release me¡­.how long have you taken to climb to this Floor?¡± Arthur inquired.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Decades.¡± Mathew replied with a shrug, not really knowing the answer.


    ¡°Decades. Of course you don¡¯t know anything.¡± Arthur sighed and slowly sank down onto the ground. He spoke to himself almost silently, his lips moving, but Mathew couldn¡¯t hear what he was saying. After a few minutes, Arthur looked back up and spoke aloud. His tone was different, and he looked saner.


    ¡°I apologize. I realize I may have been too excited about finally being free. I didn¡¯t even ask you your name or how much time has passed in Anglia since I¡¯ve come to this island.¡± Arthur said.


    ¡°Mathew. And I¡¯m not sure, a thousand years or so.¡± Mathew replied. Arthur nodded, not seeming to be surprised by that answer.


    ¡°Time work¡¯s different for us; I¡¯ve no doubt that even someone as young as you has noticed. We don¡¯t age, no matter how many years pass. It starts to lose its meaning after a while, especially when you get to the higher Floors where the tasks can take a significant amount of time.¡± Arthur explained, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°I noticed.¡±


    ¡°Well, time flows differently on this island as well. A thousand years or so outside? It¡¯s been less than a decade for me. Still, a few years trapped in this box is far too long. So, I¡¯ll make you a deal. I¡¯ll explain why I¡¯m here, and you let me out. Deal?¡± Arthur asked. The Apostle waited until Mathew agreed before continuing his explanation.


    ¡°How many gods have you met on your journey through the Tower?¡± Arthur asked before angrily shaking his head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t answer that! At your Floor, you probably haven¡¯t met any. Okay, better question. How many gods are you aware of?¡± Arthur inquired, and Mathew had to think for a moment or two before replying.


    ¡°A dozen or two? Why, how many are there?¡± Mathew asked; it was something he had been curious about for a while. He chose to ignore the fact that time worked differently on the island and that the ship might not be waiting for him when he left.


    ¡°How many stars are there in the sky? In every sky across the infinite multiverse?¡± Arthur asked, not expecting an answer to his rhetorical question. Arthur shrugged indifferently.


    ¡°Too many to count, or, in our case, to care about. No, what really matters is this. If Aether is the single most important resource to the gods, could there ever be enough to satisfy them? Especially if they need to work together and split it evenly with every new world the Tower touches?¡± Arthur questioned, and Mathew began to connect the dots.


    ¡°They look for new worlds to claim before the others catch on? That¡¯s what it means for a world to be ¡®Pristine?¡¯¡± Mathew asked, and Arthur flashed a smile at him.


    ¡°Now you¡¯re catching on! You bet! Just send an apostle or two out into the multiverse, spreading your divine name to the masses, and, when the world is ready, build a Tower to connect it to the others. Only, this Tower is a bit different; it belongs only to you. Or, in most cases, your Demesne.¡± Arthur paused and thought for a moment.


    ¡°Why bother connecting it at all? Why not just hoard all the Aether yourself? Why do the gods need a Tower in the first place?¡± Mathew inquired, and Arthur snapped his fingers happily.


    ¡°Ahh, good question! It¡¯s easy enough to fling a person to a world but harder to haul all that sweet, glorious loot back. Plus, no world stays ¡®Pristine¡¯ for long. If one god found it, more are bound to follow. Better to build a Tower and control how the rewards are divvied up before the others come demanding their fair share.¡±


    ¡°Or, worse still, fight you for it. Wars are as common to the gods as they are to us mortals. Still, some worlds remain hidden and secret for a long time.¡± Arthur explained, and Mathew held up a hand to stop him before he continued.


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting and everything, but it doesn¡¯t explain why you are here. In this room below a dead island in the middle of nowhere, trapped in a magical jail.¡± Mathew questioned, and this time Arthur flashed a look of hatred. It wasn¡¯t directed at Mathew; the ¡®Buzz¡¯ still didn¡¯t react at all, possibly because it knew Arthur was trapped.


    ¡°Righteous Subjugation and another god, Incidental Termination, found this world at the same time. The deal was that they would split the discovery between their demesnes after the Tower was built. You won¡¯t know this, but Righteous Subjugation is a big shot amongst the gods. Their demesnes are roughly equal, and none of the other gods would contest if they split the Aether amongst the two groups.¡±


    ¡°I was sent here with another Apostle. Called himself ¡®Merlin¡¯ once we found that we were in medieval England. He thought it was hilarious.¡± Arthur spat onto the floor before he continued.


    ¡°Anyway, our job was to build enough belief amongst the populace to fuel the Tower¡¯s construction. Drive back the Demi-Beasts, found a religion that worshipped the gods of both our demesnes, that sort of thing. Job done, we picked a place with high concentrations of Aether.¡±


    ¡°You can guess the rest.¡± Arthur finished, gesturing vaguely at the glowing runes and symbols.


    ¡°Right, where is he now?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Probably gone. Used the incomplete Tower to bring Incidental Termination the Aether and destroyed the connection afterwards. But you¡¯re here now, so the Tower of Avarice is linked to this world and whatever gains are being divided.¡± Arthur once again shrugged, but Mathew could see the hatred for Merlin on his face.


    ¡°Done is done; now, get me the hell out of here!¡±

 Chapter 154 – Floor 14: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 154</u> ¨C Floor 14: Part 4


    ¡°There, just cross out that sigil and the entire line will fail.¡± Arthur explained as he pointed at the ground near his invisible prison. Arthur smiled when Mathew withdrew the sword ¡®Excalibur¡¯ from the sheath at his hip.


    ¡°Ah! There¡¯s a familiar sight! I¡¯m surprised the Lady let you have it!¡± Arthur exclaimed as Mathew knelt on the ground and carefully positioned the tip of the sword against the small rune. The symbols were densely packed, and Arthur warned that any mistakes would only strengthen the barrier rather than weaken it.


    ¡°She didn¡¯t.¡± Mathew replied. With a gentle push of the hilt, the blade bit into the stone and gouged out the required sigil. A flash of light went through a section of the seal enclosing Arthur before fading. The barrier was still in place but marginally weaker than before.


    ¡°I bet she wasn¡¯t happy about you taking it! She always did have a bit of a soft spot for me. She¡¯s a fae, you know. A quirk of the Aether that gave life to a magical being.¡± Arthur explained as Mathew moved on to the next sigil in the chain that needed to be destroyed.


    Mathew¡¯s response was a grunt that could have meant anything. Arthur continued to speak despite Mathew¡¯s inattention to what he was saying.


    ¡°I bet you¡¯re wondering, do the gods pick people to fulfill a legend? We have the story of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table on my Earth, and you no doubt have the same story. But here, I am King Arthur. Maybe our worlds had their own versions of me as well? The multiverse is infinite; there has to be other versions of me out there¡­¡± Arthur rambled on, and Mathew tried his best to tune him out.


    With a final slash of an obscure and well-hidden sigil near the corner of the room, the glowing array of runes and symbols gave a final, bright flash before fading away. There was a sound similar to glass breaking, and the invisible gave way with an influx of air filling the space where Arthur was trapped.


    As soon as the barrier was dispelled, Mathew felt the force of the Buzz hit him with a strength he had never felt before. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the ground. His head was pounding with a blinding headache, and he couldn¡¯t put his thoughts in order.


    ¡°Ah! Finally!¡± Arthur yelled as he stood and stretched his arm over his head.


    His mana flared around him, making the ground and walls shake. Mathew winced as Buzz grew slightly stronger. Incapacitated, he could do nothing as Arthur walked out of his former prison and drew in a deep breath of air.


    ¡°You can¡¯t imagine how good it is to breathe air that hasn¡¯t been endlessly recycled. Sure, I can go without oxygen for a long time, but it¡¯s nice to have fresh air. Isn¡¯t that right, Mathew?¡± Arthur turned to look at Mathew and finally realized the much weaker Player''s predicament.


    ¡°Shit. Sorry about that; I haven¡¯t been around someone so fragile in a while. I forgot the effect the ¡®Buzz¡¯ can have. Not much I can do about it, I¡¯m afraid.¡± Arthur said as he knelt down next to Mathew, patting him gently on the head like an owner petting a dog.


    ¡°There, there. Look at the bright side: you finished your task, and you can move to the next Floor! Good for you!¡± Arthur said with a smile. He reached down and plucked the sword ¡®Excalibur¡¯ from Mathew¡¯s stunned fingers.


    ¡°You won¡¯t mind if I take this, will you? Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll set things straight with the Lady. Make sure that she understands that you did everything for me.¡± Arthur winked and placed the sword in his own inventory.


    ¡°There now, all safe and sound. I can¡¯t wait until I see the look on her face. I bet she¡¯s been missing me something fierce. I won¡¯t be staying long, mind you. Just long enough to shake the cobwebs off, I¡¯ll set out to the next Floor. I¡¯m sure Righteous Subjugation has something lined up for me already.¡± Arthur stood up and began to walk away.


    With each step the man took away from Mathew, the pounding of his head seemed to lessen a bit. Snapping his fingers, Arthur turned around as if he just had a thought.


    ¡°How rude! I can¡¯t believe I forgot!¡± Arthur exclaimed, slapping himself playfully on the forehead. Shaking his head, he walked back to Mathew and knelt beside him once again. The pain in Mathew¡¯s head exploded as Arthur gently reached out toward him.


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    ¡°Here I am, pleased as punch to be free, and I forgot all about your reward! I can¡¯t give you Excalibur, sentimental to me as it is, but I¡¯ll give you a couple of things to compensate you. First, here¡¯s a little gift from me.¡± Arthur said as he ¡®tapped¡¯ Mathew on the forehead.


    Strange mana entered Mathew¡¯s mind, and, for a moment, the pain of the ¡®Buzz¡¯ lessened. It swirled around his body for a minute before it dissipated. Foreign knowledge seeped into Mathew¡¯s brain, incomprehensible symbols, runes and glyphs that burned themselves into Mathew¡¯s mind.


    ¡°Those are something I picked up on one of the lower Floors. It¡¯s pretty useless to me now, but you might find it helpful. Words have power, and this is a Blessing that lets you draw on them. Once you¡¯re up and about, give them a whirl.¡± Arthur explained as he withdrew his hand.


    ¡°And, as Apostle of Righteous Subjugation, in return for the service you have rendered to my Deity and myself, I bestow upon thee the ¡®Subjugation Aura of the Righteous.¡¯¡± Arthur said formally as he stood up and gestured toward Mathew.


    A glow bathed Mathew, a divine light that gathered around his body before permeating every part of his body. He felt the new Blessing gather inside him, joining the others. The pain of the ¡®Buzz,¡¯ temporarily abated and quickly returned with a more potent force.


    Mathew nearly blacked out as Arthur turned around for a final time to leave.


    ¡°There, now we are even. Perhaps I¡¯ll see you in the future, on the higher Floors! Until then!¡± Arthur smiled and gave him a wave before he disappeared from Mathew¡¯s sight as if he had never truly been there in the first place.


    The ¡®Buzz¡¯ gave a final, aching throb before it stopped, and Mathew was released from the paralysis that gripped him. He let out a deep breath, and blackness consumed him.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Londinium was still celebrating the success of the North¡¯s liberation when the ship returned to its port. Daphne and Enalious immediately departed to inform the King and Queen that ¡®Aiden¡¯ had not made their rendezvous.


    The ship had made multiple attempts to breach the storm and make landfall on the island, but the wind and the waves drove them back. After two weeks of waiting, they had made the decision to return without him.


    ¡°My King, there was nothing we could do. Even if Prince Aiden were alive, I fear he would be trapped in that forsaken place.¡± Enalious explained.


    The King and Queen were seated in a private sitting room, a smaller and less formal palace area suitable for intimate gatherings or conversations that required the utmost secrecy. Joining them was Alfred, the young prince, who sat quietly with his hands folded in his lap.


    For some reason, Alfred doubted that the man who had taken his dead brother¡¯s name would fall so easily. Not when Alfred had seen what he was capable of with his own eyes.


    ¡°He will return.¡± Alfred stated calmly. His parents looked at him in surprise upon hearing the conviction in his voice.


    ¡°I believe so as well.¡± Daphne added. She had seen Aiden fly into the storm on the back of the Wyvern, and surely he could have left in the same manner.


    Albrecht let out a sigh as he assessed the others in the room and nodded.


    ¡°Very well. We will keep the details of this expedition secret until-¡± Albrecht was interrupted by a loud roar outside the palace. The noise rattled the windows, and the occupants leapt to their feet in surprise. Rushing outside, they saw the guards, Knights and servants of the palace looking up into the sky and pointing excitedly.


    There, Alfred and the others saw Aiden flying on the back of his Wyvern. The Crown Prince circled the palace several times as he descended onto the courtyard. Climbing tiredly down the Wyvern, Aiden returned it to its statue form before placing it back into his inventory.


    Alfred could see the exhaustion on Aiden¡¯s face. He stumbled slightly as he walked, a show of weakness that Alfred would never expect to see from him. If he couldn¡¯t hide it, then Aiden was likely so tired that he was about to collapse.


    The crowd parted as the Crown Prince reached the King and Queen. Nodding in greeting, he immediately spoke.


    ¡°Have you seen him?¡± Aiden asked as his eyes flicked around the crowd as if looking for someone. Evidently not finding the person he sought, Aiden relaxed.


    ¡°Who?¡± Albrecht asked in concern. First, the young man in front of him requested to sail to a strange island immediately after a massive military campaign. Then it was reported that he was either dead or trapped on that island. Now that he had returned, he straightaway asked about someone?


    Albrecht¡¯s head nearly spun, trying to keep up with the current events.


    ¡°Arthur!¡± Aiden hissed out quietly enough that only a handful of trusted people around them heard him say the name. Seeing the stunned looks on their faces, Aiden continued.


    ¡°Then he hasn¡¯t returned here. Good. The last thing I need is to black out again because he can¡¯t keep himself under control.¡± Aiden muttered.


    After a few minutes of explaining where he had been and who he had encountered, Mathew, or Aiden as his was still being called here, wearily sat in the same sitting room the others had just occupied and leaned gratefully against the back of his chair.


    Alfred joined him, and the others went to calm the populace of Londinium and deal with the fallout of Aiden¡¯s unexpected Wyvern flight over the city. Daphne returned home to her parents and then went on to university.


    ¡°What will you do now?¡± Alfred asked his ¡®brother.¡¯ He was determined to learn more about this young man next to him who had helped him so much in the north.


    ¡°First, I¡¯ll need to get something to eat. Then, I plan to sleep for as long as I can.¡± Aiden explained as he ran a hand wearily across his face and through his hair. He had trouble keeping his eyes open, and he blinked to try to clear his blurry sight.


    ¡°Then, when I¡¯m ready, we¡¯re going to the mainland to kill some Ancestral Beasts.¡±

 Chapter 155 – Floor 15: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 155</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 1


    <u>Floor 14: A Daring Rescue (Complete!)</u>


    <u>Floor Summary:</u> Far away from the shores of Anglia exists an island shrouded by fog. An island of death where the living dread to travel and most never return. There, deep beneath the surface of the earth, a prisoner awaits your arrival. Travel to this strange and mysterious land and free them from their imprisonment.


    <u>Floor Summary (Complete):</u> You have freed Arthur, Apostle of Righteous Subjugation, from his imprisonment beneath the ruins of a long-forgotten Tower.


    <u>Divine Consultation: </u>


    The god ¡®Righteous Subjugation¡¯ is very pleased with your actions and has taken an increased interest in you.


    The god ¡®Incidental Termination¡¯ is displeased that you have freed an Apostle. They wish to send you to a ¡®Punishment Floor¡¯ for your actions. (Righteous Subjugation has blocked the request.)


    Several gods have requested regular updates as you progress. (Approved)


    The god ¡®Mischievous Depravity¡¯ has offered you the opportunity to become its Apostle. (Several gods have blocked the offer.)


    <u>Floor Completion Reward: </u>


    Blessing: Words of Power


    Amongst the infinite planets of the multiverse existed a celestial race. They understood the language of the universe and were capable of manipulating it to their will by merely uttering their divine language. Creation, Control and Destruction, all things were possible with a word.


    Fearing their power, the gods of the Tower eradicated the celestials. Their divine language has been lost, and only fragments remain, littered across the multiverse. You may use Aether to reconstruct simple, single-syllable words to emulate their language.


    You have been granted the following words: Burn, Break.


    Burn: Ignite a target using the Word of Power.


    Break: Destroy a nonliving object of your choice; the size and material of the object determine the amount of effort required.


    Blessing: Subjugation Aura of the Righteous.


    You have been granted a portion of the god ¡®Righteous Subjugation¡¯s¡¯ divine power. By using this Blessing, you will be surrounded by a Consecrated Aura that will provide you with slight increases in Body, Mind and Spirit attributes (+0.5).


    All those who are not deemed worthy of Righteous Subjugation¡¯s grace will feel suppressed and fearful in the presence of this divine force, for they are in the presence of someone favoured by a deity. Their attacks against you will suffer, and they will feel compelled to obey your commands.


    Magical Item: The Wrathful Blade


    Item Description: Forged by the Lady of the Lake, this weapon contains the Aether gathered from ¡®Rath¡¯ the Ancient Ogre. Intended for ¡®Mathew, the Slayer of Rath,¡¯ it lacks a point and is styled on the ¡®Executioner Swords¡¯ of the medieval period.


    The blade is covered in a layer of rust and appears old and ill-maintained. But its looks are deceiving, for this sword is amongst the sharpest the Lady has ever created.


    Arthur, First King of Anglia, convinced the Lady to shape a weapon for his liberator after ¡®Excalibur¡¯ was returned to his family¡¯s line, and the Lady grudgingly accepted the request.


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    Magical Properties: (+5 Body, Indestructible, +++ Density)


    Due to its unique materials and forging method, the Wrathful Blade has a weight far beyond its size would suggest. It contains the power of the Ancient Ogre, a massive Ancestral Beast who commanded a strength that could crush mountains.


    Few possess the strength and ability to wield The Wrathful Blade effectively.


    <u>Floor 15: Heart of a Prince</u>


    Summary: Assuming the role of Prince Aiden, you have promised to protect Anglia and act as its Crown Prince until Alfred, the legitimate heir of the Arthurian Lineage, is ready to take over. Alfred is currently too sickly and weak for the responsibility, leaving it to you to find a cure for the ailing Prince.


    Alfred¡¯s condition can be cured through the use of a divine ritual.


    Objective: Obtain five (5) Ancestral Beast hearts and perform the ritual to cure Alfred. Ancestral Beasts are no longer found in Anglia, and eligible hearts are currently located in:


    <ol>


    <li>The Orkney Islands ¨C The Ancestral Beast of the Bearfolk.</li>


    <li>Francia ¨C The Ancestral Werebeast</li>


    <li>Rome ¨C The Vampiric Ancestral Beast</li>


    <li>The Americas (East Coast) ¨C The Ancestral Kraken</li>


    <li>The Americas (West Coast) ¨C The Abhorrent Corrupted Ancestral Beast</li>


    </ol>


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew closed the notifications and leaned back in his chair. Alfred had finally left him alone after he had promised to allow him to assist with planning their expeditions against the Ancestral Beasts in the morning.


    The prospect of travelling across half of this world in search of monsters to slay wasn¡¯t appealing to him, but it wasn¡¯t as if he had a choice. Besides, he didn¡¯t receive any type of time frame on this Floor. He could take his time and enjoy his stint in Londinium.


    They likely wouldn¡¯t be able to set out until the spring, which meant four months of wintering in the city until it was safe to sail north. A winter filled with parties and other social events.


    Mathew scoffed at the thought and shoved it aside. He was exhausted and could feel the bed in the other room calling to him with warm sheets and a soft pillow, but he ignored it for a moment. He turned his attention to the Blessings he had received for freeing Arthur.


    The Words of Power were the most interesting and obtuse Blessing he had ever experienced. It was like a splinter in him, foreign knowledge that wasn¡¯t his, in a language that he couldn¡¯t understand.


    Break and Burn were the only two words that he knew, and they were complicated beyond comparison. It wasn¡¯t merely speaking the word and commanding a response; it was more like altering reality itself, changing it to suit his will.


    Burn caused an object to catch fire because he willed it, and the universe had to respond. In some ways, it was similar to his first Blessing, which was the ability to summon and control fire. But that had used his mana as a medium, and it could be interfered with if an opponent had the ability.


    This was different, and hard to explain. It wasn¡¯t summoning a fire in a location that it didn¡¯t exist in before. This was creating something from nothing. A subtle but important difference that even Mathew, who possessed the Blessing, couldn¡¯t truly understand.


    Break and Burn were just the beginning, and the easiest, of an entire language of the Words of Power. Mathew had no doubt that as his understanding increased, so too would the scope and scale of his command of this Blessing.


    The second Blessing, The Subjugation Aura of the Righteous, was similar to his old Blessing ¡®Fear.¡¯ Only this one made people more obedient or less likely to oppose him. It also had other benefits in combat, such as protecting him and hindering his opponents.


    But its connection to a Deity made him wary of it. Mathew didn¡¯t want to become too close to a god and risk becoming their pawn or a tool. Worse, what if he enjoyed using it, and it influenced him into becoming an Apostle?


    Mathew doubted it worked that way, but his time in the Tower made him cautious. After thinking about his rewards for a few minutes, Mathew summoned the ¡®Wrathful Blade¡¯ from his inventory.


    The sword fell into his hand, and Mathew staggered forward at the weight. It pulled him toward the ground, and only by setting his feet wide apart, bending his legs and lifting with all of his strength could he barely keep it aloft.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t kidding; this thing weighs a ton!¡± Mathew exclaimed. Even with the surge of added strength the magical weapon pumped into his ¡®Body¡¯ stat, Mathew couldn¡¯t wield it effectively. Even the tiniest movement would send him staggering to the side.


    Resting the sword on the ground, Mathew studied his new weapon carefully.


    It was the ugliest sword he had ever seen. It looked like something the Lady of the Lake had forged for him as payback for the way he treated her.


    The tip of the sword was flat and blunt, making stabbing with the sword impossible. It only had a single edge and was much wider than a regular sword, almost making it a cleaver, but the handle was in the center, and the blade was straight.


    The sword¡¯s handle was long and wrapped in black leather with a large, unadorned, unremarkable pommel. The leather and handle were the cleanest and nicest part of the sword, as the blade was discoloured with red and brown rust.


    Now that he could see it properly, Mathew recognized it as a similar weapon that ¡®Rath¡¯ the Ancient Ogre used, which they had brought back to Londinium as a trophy.


    ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll need to practice with this over the winter.¡± Mathew mused as he placed the sword back in his inventory.

 Chapter 156 – Floor 15: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 156</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 2


    Matilda took a deep, calming breath to try to calm the butterflies in her stomach as she ran her hand over her hair to make sure it was still in place. She had spent hours with her maids to ensure that everything was perfect.


    Tonight was too important for anything to go wrong.


    Daphne said she was foolish to try, not to mention how her brother reacted when she told her parents her intentions. But she had to attempt it; this would be her only chance. The nobility had returned to Londinium from their estates for the Winter Solstice and the Yuletide season.


    The ball was just starting, the musicians were tuning their instruments, and the sounds of the crowd drowned out the nervous beating of her heart. In the middle of the grand ballroom was a massive Yule Tree; its decorations sparkled in the magical light.


    At the top of the tree glittered a star of pure gold with a diamond in the center.


    Matilda¡¯s nervousness increased as the King and Queen entered the ballroom, followed by their youngest son, Alfred. She ignored the scrawny man; his pale face and sickly features were incomparable to the person she was looking for.


    Aiden, the Red Prince of the North.


    Her plan for the night was simple: wait until the King announced the commencement of the ball and then waylay the Crown Prince immediately by asking him to dance with her. She knew that there were other women in the room with the same strategy, but she just needed to be quicker and more shameless than any of them.


    To her consternation, Crown Prince Aiden didn¡¯t appear. Although, her cousin Daphne made her entrance next to Prince Alfred. The pair were standing close together, discussing something, and Matilda frowned at her cousin.


    She couldn¡¯t understand what she was thinking! Daphne was one of the advisors to the Crown Prince! She got to spend most of her days with him, talking and sharing their thoughts and feelings with one another.


    But Daphne chose to be closer to Alfred instead of Aiden! It was mind-boggling and, in her opinion, a wasted opportunity! She knew for a fact that her aunt and uncle had tried to convince Daphne to express interest in the Crown Prince but had been rebuffed numerous times.


    ¡®What a fool.¡¯ Matilda thought as she was assured that her appearance was perfect once again. Daphne may waste her opportunities, but she wouldn¡¯t.


    ¡°Confident, sister?¡± Marten mockingly asked as he came up beside her.


    Her brother was already inebriated; his Yule celebrations had started a week earlier, and he hadn¡¯t let up for a single moment. Her parents would have been disappointed in his behaviour if it hadn¡¯t been for the fact that he seemed to be in Aiden¡¯s confidence.


    Marten had secured a position in the Crown Prince¡¯s entourage, one of the few Knights Aiden was close to.


    ¡°Oh, shut up.¡± Matilda hissed out, her eyes never leaving the space behind the King and Queen where she knew Aiden would appear. She had to time it perfectly; any hesitation would mean someone else would be honoured to dance with him.


    ¡®Someone like Evelyn Toth.¡¯ Matilda thought, cursing the name of her nemesis. It didn¡¯t matter what some old document said, signed centuries ago. If she could just have a moment alone with Aiden, he would fall in love with her.


    It would be like the fairy tales she had read as a child, where the prince swooped in and swept her off her feet.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t get your hopes up; I doubt Aiden will even show up tonight.¡± Marten commented, and Matilda shook her head.


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    ¡°He¡¯ll be here. Daphne told me that the King has required his attendance.¡± Matilda assured her brother, confident that Aiden wouldn¡¯t miss the last ball of the year. Their conversation was interrupted by the King standing in front of those assembled and giving his Yule address.


    ¡°Friends, before we celebrate and make merry on this day, I wish to give thanks to the gods for the blessings we have received this year. The liberation of the north marks a momentous turning of the tide for Anglia.¡± The King paused, looking at his Queen and Alfred before continuing.


    ¡°But that is not the end. Even now, Crown Prince Aiden prepares to lead our army further north against the Demi-Beasts that infest the islands off our shores. With his inevitable victory, Anglia will finally be safe!¡± Albrecht ended his speech loudly, and the crowd applauded and cheered.


    As the King stepped back to rejoin his family, Matilda¡¯s eyes were drawn to the figure that entered the ballroom. Prince Aiden was speaking to the Archmagus Enalious, with the older man nodding his head deferentially to the young prince.


    The pair stopped just behind the King and Queen, carrying on their conversation without caring for the crowd, patiently awaiting Aiden¡¯s arrival.


    ¡°Hurry up!¡± Matilda whispered, and Marten chuckled beside her.


    ¡°Looks like you are losing out to an old man, sister. That must be grating.¡± Marten joked, and Matilda jabbed him in his ribs with her elbow. Although her brother gasped as he lost his breath, Matilda winced as she rubbed her elbow.


    She had forgotten how strong a Knight was, especially after Marten¡¯s campaign in the north. She idly wondered if Aiden would like her more if she trained and joined the expeditions against the Demi-Beasts but dismissed it immediately.


    Matilda wasn¡¯t Daphne, who was interested in magic. Her pursuits lay closer to home, and she wouldn¡¯t be caught dead out in the wilderness, surrounded by beasts.


    ¡°Very funny, Marten. I thought you would be more interested in the fact that Father has been meeting with the Watertons. I have heard that the betrothal contract is finalized and is just awaiting the king¡¯s signature.¡± Matilda taunted and was satisfied watching her brother pale and stare at her, mouth agape.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t jest about that, Matilda.¡± Marten warned, and Matilda smiled sweetly at him.


    ¡°Who is jesting? I expect you will be married before you set off north, with a loving wife awaiting your triumphant return.¡± Matilda needled him some more before turning back to look at Aiden. The Archmagus and prince had finished their conversation, but now he was speaking to Alfred.


    The gods were toying with her!


    Whatever the brothers were discussing, Alfred didn¡¯t seem pleased by it. She could see that he made forceful motions with his hands to punctuate his words, shaking his head while Aiden calmly spoke. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Alfred shook his head and walked away.


    Her time had come!


    The musicians started playing, and Matilda took one last moment to check her hair and dress before she strode quickly and confidently across the room toward the now-free Prince. From the corner of her eye, Matilda noticed several other young women were making their way towards Aiden.


    To her surprise, Evelyn Toth was amongst them, and she had even hiked up her dress so that it didn¡¯t drag on the ground. She practically raced across the ballroom to reach her target.


    But what upset and infuriated Matilda the most was the woman who led the pack and was near the Crown Prince. Camille Rosen had changed significantly since Matilda had seen her at the last party the Aiden had attended.


    No longer surrounded by admirers and hangers-on, Camille seemed to have wholeheartedly put her efforts into winning the affection of the prince. Matilda saw her deliberately elbow another young lady out of the way as she finally reached Aiden, who was slowly turning around from where he had been speaking to Alfred.


    ¡°My Prince! Would you honour me with the first dance?¡± Matilda shouted out as she reached Aiden, along with half a dozen other noblewomen with a similar thought. There was a chorus of similar questions before they glared at each other.


    Stunned and speechless at the sudden attention, Aiden began to stammer out a response.


    ¡°I-unfortunately, I¡¯m needed elsewhere-¡± He was cut off as the Queen approached him with a smile on her face. Albrecht stood behind her, a grin on his face as he enjoyed Aiden¡¯s discomfort.


    ¡°Nonsense, you¡¯re needed here!¡± The Queen stated as she stood next to Aiden and looked at the assembled young noblewomen.


    Matilda tried to stand out more by pushing her shoulders back and attempting to look taller. On the other hand, Camille had pulled down the neckline of her dress and was leaning forward.


    ¡®The hussy!¡¯ Matilda cursed silently. Why hadn¡¯t she thought of that?!


    ¡°As important as the expedition north is, finding a suitable partner and responding favourably to their requests is equally imperative. Go on and enjoy yourself. You will start with Lady Rosen since her eagerness must be rewarded, then you may dance with¡­¡± The Queen rambled on for a while, giving Aiden a list of dance partners that would keep him occupied for the entire night.


    Matilda, disappointed that she was third, knew this was the greatest opportunity of her life. She had one dance to make an impression on Aiden, and she intended to make it count.

 Chapter 157 – Floor 15: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 157</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 3


    Mathew had never thought that he would choose the battlefield if he was given the choice between relaxing in a palace, with the finest foods and comforts imaginable and a combat zone.


    His months in Londinium were spent avoiding the horde of young noblewomen who were determined to catch and conquer him. Every celebration, event or meeting he had attended was filled with his admirers, and Mathew was more uncomfortable than he had ever recalled being.


    What made it worse was the attitude of the King, Queen and Alfred. They encouraged this behaviour, often leaving him alone in a social situation to allow them ¡®privacy,¡¯ always with a laugh or a smirk on their faces.


    Mathew supposed that it was payback for the rudeness he had demonstrated when he first arrived, or maybe it was because of his flippant attitude toward the nobility and his temporary position within it.


    He had thought to use Alfred as a shield or barrier against these women, redirecting their efforts toward the young prince in order to avoid dancing, parties or luncheons that he would inevitably be invited to and forced to attend by the King and Queen by a combination of guilt and incentives.


    But the sickly prince was as slippery as an eel and seemed to have a sixth sense regarding danger. Every time Mathew was about to grab Alfred and hurl him into danger, he was nowhere to be found.


    After attending another ball and then afternoon tea with the Queen and a select group of noblewomen all vying for his attention, Mathew learned a new, effective tactic against them.


    Pit them against each other.


    He immediately noticed that most of those who pushed for his notice despised each other, particularly Camille Rosen; she was the perfect foil against their attempts. Mathew would make an off comment, complimenting her while in the presence of someone else, or the opposite if required, and he would watch the eruption that ensued with amusement.


    It came to a head a few weeks after New Year''s when he was attending a dinner party with Alfred and a number of other young lords and ladies. It was something that couldn¡¯t be avoided since many of those present would also be taking part in his expeditions against the Demi-Beasts in the spring.


    He had been seated next to the beautiful Evelyn Toth while Camille Rosen sat across from him with an expression that alternated between the desire for him and hatred from Lady Toth. The two had been trading barbs for hours, disguising them as polite compliments that were anything but when Mathew interjected casually.


    Mathew looked toward a third woman, Matilda, whom he remembered from the Christmas Ball and had met a few times since then. She seemed nice enough, although she was too obsessed with gossip and attending functions for Mathew.


    ¡°Matilda, you are looking quite lovely this evening. I look forward to seeing you again at the Rosens next week for their luncheon.¡± Mathew commented, and he leaned back slightly as the temperature of the room seemed to dip well below freezing.


    That had saved him from hours more torture, and he had made his escape while everyone was too busy dealing with the fallout. When he took a last glance back, he half expected Evelyn and Camille to be combating.


    But it wasn¡¯t all parties, politics and polite company. Mathew spent most of his time training with his new sword. The Wrathful Blade was an incredible weapon, but it was as dangerous to everyone around him as it was to himself until he could learn to use it effectively.


    Oddly, it seemed to grow even heavier as he got more comfortable swinging it around.  Combined with his Blessing ¡®Alter Self ¨C Augmented Strength,¡¯ he could control it enough that he might be able to use it in combat if his opponent weren¡¯t agile enough to avoid his slow swings.


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    But it was ¡®Alter Self ¨C Iron Bones¡¯ that was the most effective when combined with his new blade. The Wrathful Blade hurt to use, his muscles would tear, and the skin of his palms would bleed just from picking it up.


    Even with Iron Bones, they would ache and creak with every movement. If he didn¡¯t have the Blessing, Mathew doubted he would last more than a few minutes of training. He would be forced to rest and recuperate or use expensive healing potions to recover.


    As it was, he could manage an hour or so before the Wrathful Blade was returned to his inventory and replaced with a lighter, more wieldy sword for his practice.


    Finally, after months of inactivity stuck in Londinium, the snow cleared, and the weather warmed. It was time for the army and ¡®Prince Aiden¡¯ to travel to the Orkneys and hunt an Ancestral Beast.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew walked down the gangplank of the ship with a smile on his face and his arms held widely to the sides. The spring sun shone brightly above him, and he breathed in the warm sea air that blew up from the south.


    Hundreds of ships landed on the island, offloading an army of thousands and enough supplies to see them fed and outfitted for weeks. This was one of the larger islands of the Orkneys, a heavily forested area that the Bearfolk had seized from the local humans generations ago.


    After their losses against Mathew¡¯s forces in the fall, they had retreated here to recover. They never expected the Anglicans to make landfall here and hadn¡¯t even bothered to set scouts on the sea routes. It made it easy for the army commanders to organize their troops and set up a base of operations here.


    ¡°Only you would be excited to be away from Londinium.¡± Alfred commented as he walked behind him. The sickly Prince was looking healthier than ever; his skin had lost its extreme paleness, and he seemed to have filled out slightly.


    Mathew laughed and nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯d take an Ancestral Beast hunt over another party any day. Those noblewomen are vicious; I swear Evelyn Toth and Camille Rosen were going to duel.¡± Mathew replied. Smiling, he turned to look at Alfred.


    ¡°You can deal with that when this is all over with. You may even enjoy it, having many women clambering over you while you try to keep from tripping over your feet again.¡± Mathew teased, and Alfred scoffed.


    ¡°I¡¯m a fine dancer, thank you very much.¡± Alfred retorted, and Daphne rolled her eyes beside him.


    ¡°You have two left feet, and you know it. But I think we have more important things to discuss than your ballroom abilities. There¡¯s a reason we haven¡¯t been able to liberate this island in the previous campaigns. The Bearfolk are formidable, and they still have significant reserves. We should be cautious.¡± Daphne advised.


    ¡°My apprentice is correct. You should not underestimate these foes.¡± Enalious commented as he joined them on the island¡¯s shore. The archmagus wore thick robes and held a wooden staff that radiated mana in his hand. The focal point of its energy was a large black stone at the top that was bound to the staff with a golden wire.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine. We defeated Rath; we won¡¯t have any trouble with this one either.¡± Mathew replied.


    ¡°The Ancient Ogre was a challenging opponent, to be sure, but he was at a disadvantage. Rath lacked the connection to northern lands that this Ancestral Beast has developed over the decades. If Rath was in his homeland, with access to its spiritual energy, you would have found him to be much more difficult.¡± Enalious advised.


    ¡°But Rath had been in the north for years; I don¡¯t understand how he could have not formed a link with it.¡± Alfred questioned.


    ¡°The northern lands of Alba were divided between many tribes, with their lines of control shifting and territory changing hands constantly. This island is exclusive to the Bearfolk, and has been for quite some time. No doubt the Ancestral Beast here can call upon powers that Rath lacked.¡± Enalious explained.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. We don¡¯t have a choice but to liberate this island and kill the Ancestral Beast. Regardless of what powers it has, it¡¯s going down.¡± Mathew replied confidently.


    It took three days for their camp to be constructed, with the trees used nearby to form a palisade with guard towers that afforded a view of the cleared lands around it. It also took that long for the Bearfolk to finally become aware of their invasion.


    The first of the lumbering behemoths emerged from the trees, nearly twelve feet tall and decked out in heavy armour. Hundreds of the creatures made a line just on the edge of the trees, forming ranks and shaking the ground with their march.


    The ensuing battle lasted for hours, with the Bearfolk throwing themselves against the human defenders. Well organized with a defensible position, the humans repelled them time and time again until the first wave fell, and the ground outside the camp was littered with the Bearfolk¡¯s massive bodies.


    As the fighting continued, the sky darkened with grey clouds, and an oppressive force descended on everyone present. When the last bearfolk that attacked the camp died, there was a roar in the distance that made many of those present in the camp clamp their hands over their ears to block it.


    A figure emerged from the trees, leading a force of nearly a thousand. The Ancestral Beast of the Bearfolk had arrived.

 Chapter 158 – Floor 15: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 158</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 4


    When Mathew was young, he had gone to the Central Park Zoo on a school trip. He remembered the sea lions and the penguins, but the grizzly bears made him appreciate the size and power of those wild animals.


    The Ancestral Beast of the Bearfolk lumbered out of the forest, and Mathew once again felt awe. It was enormous, as large as a house, with thick brown fur that had a white streak from its forehead all the way along its back.


    It had antlers, a great, branching mass that protruded from its head and formed a crown around it. There was a shimmer of mana throughout its horns, and they appeared to be made of a material similar to crystalized Aether, only these were pitch black.


    Mathew drew in a sharp breath at the oppressive atmosphere that pressed down upon him. No one was spared; the humans were forced to their knees, and even the Bearfolk could barely move as their ancestors revealed their power.


    Alfred collapsed beside him; his loud coughing and gasping for air immediately drew Mathew¡¯s attention. Thankfully, Enalious seemed to be strong enough to still function and took it upon himself to begin treating Alfred.


    ¡°You need to hurry, Prince Aiden.¡± Enalious said from where he was hunched over the sickly prince. Mathew nodded and urged ¡®Midnight,¡¯ his magical horse, forward a few steps before dismounting. Midnight was a fine horse, but it wasn¡¯t suited for combat.


    ¡°Alter Self ¨C Augmented Strength.¡± Mathew felt his muscles bulge before compacting once again, becoming denser and heavier. A new vitality flowed through him as his mana supplemented his physical abilities. He drew about ten percent more from his mana reserves as he pushed his transmuted muscles to their limits.


    ¡°Alter Self ¨C Iron Bones.¡± His skeleton increased in mass, hardening and gaining mass. His boots sunk deeper into the island¡¯s soft grass. There were a series of cracks and snaps from his body as he grew accustomed to the changes before they settled.


    Mathew wasn¡¯t done yet, so he took a deep breath. He slightly dreaded using his next blessing. But he could feel the ¡®Buzz¡¯ pulsating at the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.


    The Ancestral Beast in front of him was a challenge that he couldn¡¯t afford to underestimate; he would need every ability he possessed to defeat it.


    ¡°Subjugation Aura of the Righteous.¡± Mathew felt another ten percent of his mana flow out from him. It gathered in the air a few inches away from his body. A light seemed to collect around him, a glow that emanated far above him and shone down like a spotlight.


    The oppressive feeling from the Ancestral Beast vanished, and a new aura replaced it. One of righteousness and dominance, of supreme ownership of all within sight that demanded obedience and subservience.


    As the Ancestral Beast¡¯s power waned, Mathew¡¯s grew. He felt more strength gather inside his body, his connection to whatever plane or realm the gods inhabited fortified, his thoughts flowed more swiftly, and his perception of his surroundings increased.


    Time slowed for Mathew; he was aware of himself and those around him to a degree he had never felt before. He knew that if the Ancestral Beast attacked him, he would be able to defend himself better with the Aura than without it.


    Mathew¡¯s final preparation was to draw the Wrathful Blade from his inventory. To the observers behind him, it seemed as if Prince Aiden had reached into a void and gripped something. With visible effort, he slowly drew the sword from nothingness; his hand shook from the weight.


    When it was finally free, the flat front edge of the sword fell onto the ground and dug deeply into the soil. To those who were watching, the feeling of confusion that came with seeing their Prince pull out a rusty sword that lacked a point was wiped away as a new tyrannical power exploded around them.


    To everyone around Mathew, it felt as if the edge of that Executioner¡¯s Sword was pressed up against their necks, ready to end their lives in an instant.


    Mathew strained to raise the Wrathful Blade and settle it on his shoulder. The weight of the sword was incredible, and he swore that it was even heavier now that he was using the Aura along with his other Blessings.


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    The sword gave him the impression that the stronger he grew, the weightier it would become.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get this over with.¡± Mathew muttered as he sized up his opponent. The Ancestral Beast had walked out onto the field, leaving the other Bearfolk behind. They could not move as the Ancestral Beast''s power was too much for them to approach.


    This was a battle that only Mathew and it could participate in.


    Mathew charged across the distance; his every step weighed down by the sword in his hands. But his movement was increased by his Blessings and Aura; he travelled faster than even Midnight could manage.


    With a roar, the Ancestral Beast lashed out with its colossal paw; its claws raked through the ground and left trenches wider than Mathew¡¯s body in its wake.


    Mathew leapt over the paw, raised his sword and slammed it down on the Ancestral Beast''s furred arm with all of his strength. The blade bit deeply, and blood spurted, covering Mathew¡¯s body and the ground around them in crimson liquid.


    The Ancestral Beast bellowed in pain and reared upright, away from Mathew¡¯s reach. It swung its other hand at Mathew, only to have the agile human dodge it and strike again. Having received two attacks by Mathew and its flesh cut by the rusty blade in his hands, the Ancestral Beast retreated.


    ¡°You¡¯re not that tough.¡± Mathew spat out as he wiped the blood from his face and raised his sword again. He would have held his comment to himself if he had his time back.


    The Ancestral Beast raised its body up onto two legs, and mana gathered around it in a vortex. With a loud howl, the sky darkened, and Mathew felt the ground shake in response. It slammed its front paws onto the ground, forming cracks in the earth.


    Lightning crackled between its antlers, arcing and flickering between its prongs. Mathew could feel the ¡®Buzz¡¯ growing stronger, warning him of the danger. But he didn¡¯t have time to react. The creature''s speed had increased dramatically, and Mathew couldn¡¯t keep up with it.


    It charged toward him like a streak of light, its body a blur. By the time Mathew was aware of what was happening, the Ancestral Beast was practically on top of him. A swipe of its front claw sent Mathew flying; the impact cracked his magical armour and what felt like all of his ribs.


    Mathew landed on the ground and rolled dozens of feet before he crashed into a boulder, shattering it into pieces. He coughed and spat out blood. His vision wavered, and, for a moment, Mathew thought he would pass out. His hands were empty, and he had no idea what had happened to the Vengeful Blade.


    The Ancestral Beast wasn¡¯t finished; it leapt toward him with its mouth wide open in preparation to devour him whole.


    Mathew raised a shaky hand and pointed at the monster. His hand faltered, and his strength was leaving him. His Subjugation Aura flickered and failed. His body began to revert back to its regular form, and the alterations to his strength and bones deteriorated.


    The pain grew as his Blessings weakened; he could feel the splinters of bone puncturing his skin. Hissing through teeth broken from the impact, Mathew whispered a Word of Power.


    ¡°Burn.¡± He muttered as he focused all of his being onto the rapidly approaching Ancestral Beast. Using the Word of Power was one of the strangest experiences he had ever felt, and if he weren¡¯t so close to death, Mathew would have explored the feeling further.


    As it was, Mathew felt something in his mind unlock, accessing knowledge that a human should not possess. There were secrets to the universe, information on its creations and manipulation that, even now, Mathew couldn¡¯t understand.


    But he could tap into it, some lingering essence of those long-forgotten and dead Celestials through the Blessing granted to him by Arthur.


    The world shifted; up was suddenly down, the day became night, and everything had a sense of wrongness. Suddenly, fire engulfed the Ancestral Beast.


    It fell to the ground, writhing in pain as white flames covered its body. Clinging stubbornly to its fur, the flames refused to smother no matter how much the creature rolled around. It screamed in agony, and Mathew joined it in crying out.


    Pain like he had never experienced before flooded his body. It felt like his own flesh was burning, and sharp needles were poking through his eyes and into his mind. The sense of wrongness intensified, and Mathew gripped his head in an attempt to block the sensation.


    Closing his eyes, he swore he could feel someone watching him. In the darkness behind his eyelids, there were crimson eyes creatures staring at him, judging him for tapping into knowledge that did not belong to him.


    The souls of the Celestials were now aware of him through his use of the Word of Power, and they were displeased.


    The pain continued for long moments before it finally subsided. When Mathew opened his eyes, Alfred was next to him, feeding him a healing potion that Mathew had given to the sickly youth. The liquid warmed his chest as he swallowed it and waited for the relief it brought.


    Capable of finally moving, he pulled several more of from his inventory, popping the corks and downing them as the Ancestral Beast continued to flail around in the distance. When Mathew regained his feet, the flames died, and the creature lay weakly on the ground.


    He dragged his still battered body to where the Vengeful Blade was buried in the soil; the weight of the weapon was nearly beyond him. Hauling the sword with both hands, leaving a trench in its wake as he did so, Mathew approached the Ancestral Beast.


    When it was finally dead, its body turned into specks of light. The only thing that remained was a small piece of crystallized Aether in the shape of a heart. Picking it up, Mathew tossed it to Alfred. Behind them, the army was preparing to charge forward and defeat the remaining Bearfolk.


    ¡°Here, hold onto this for me. It¡¯s probably safer with you.¡± With that, Mathew collapsed into darkness.

 Chapter 159 – Floor 15: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 159</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 5


    Mathew floated in darkness. His consciousness hovered in a void, surrounded by glowing eyes in a myriad of colours and shapes. They were everywhere, accompanied by incoherent whispers that drove needles into his mind.


    He couldn¡¯t understand what they were saying, although he thought that if he strained a bit more and concentrated, he could comprehend their murmurs. A chorus of voices, millions and millions of them, added to each other, crashing into his like a wave.


    Mathew may not have understood their words, but the feelings and emotions behind them were clear. The celestials were upset and angry with him. There were other emotions mixed in there as well: confusion over his identity and how he had learned a portion of their secret language, sadness, regret and a multitude of other sensations.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, they can¡¯t hurt you. Well, at least not yet anyway.¡± A voice sounded out from behind him, and Mathew turned to see Arthur standing behind. The former King of Anglia and Apostle of Righteous Subjugation was completely at ease, standing in the darkness as if it were solid ground.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Mathew asked, looking for an answer regarding both the shades that were haunting him and the presence of Arthur. To his knowledge, the man should have been on his way to wherever the Tower of Avarice sent him next.


    ¡°I¡¯m not living inside your mind if that¡¯s what you¡¯re thinking. I left a bit of mana inside you to be triggered when you used a Word of Power; it¡¯ll be long gone by the time you wake up. I¡¯m surprised it took you as long as it did. I figured you were the type to be eager to try a new blessing.¡± Arthur explained.


    ¡°What about them?¡± Mathew asked, gesturing to the multitude of glowing eyes all around them. The whispers had stilled momentarily with Arthur¡¯s appearance, only to resume once more.


    ¡°Ah, those aren¡¯t going to go away anytime soon.¡± Arthur smiled and waved at the shades before turning his attention back to Mathew.


    ¡°They¡¯re remnants, traces of the Celestials that are caught up in the Tower¡¯s influence. The Tower picks up everything from the universes it connects to, including them. It¡¯s how the Tower can grant you additional words from their language.¡±


    ¡°How do I make them go away?¡± Mathew asked, and Arthur shrugged in response.


    ¡°No idea. Well, there is one way. Righteous Subjugation drove them away when I became an Apostle; he doesn¡¯t like sharing us with anyone else. So that¡¯s an option if you¡¯re interested.¡± Arthur grinned and winked teasingly, already knowing the answer.


    ¡°Can they hurt me?¡± Mathew inquired. It was frustrating not to understand what they wanted; their knowledge of their language was just out of reach.


    ¡°No, at least I don¡¯t believe so. They¡¯ll get worse the more you use the Words of Power. It¡¯s a consequence of depending on their language. Creepy buggers, but they never touched me, and I knew dozens of Words before Righteous Subjugation blocked their use.¡± Arthur explained.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think this is something you should have told me before you gave me the Words in the first place!?¡± Mathew hissed, and the void quivered in response to his anger.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think of it; it¡¯s been a long time since I used them. Besides, it doesn¡¯t matter so long as it saves your life, right? If you are so worried about them, just sign up with Righteous Subjugation. He¡¯s eager to have you join the club.¡± Arthur offered, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°Get out.¡± Mathew ordered angrily.


    ¡°Fine, fine. So touchy!¡± Arthur said as he turned around and began to walk away. His body faded with each step he took, and Mathew could feel the mana Arthur had left depleting, ensuring that he couldn¡¯t return.


    Arthur snapped his fingers suddenly and spun around.


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    ¡°Oh, I forgot to tell you. I gave Excalibur back to the Lady. Something for the next generation, you understand. Don¡¯t try to pull it out again; it¡¯s not for you.¡± Arthur warned, wagging his finger at Mathew playfully before giving him a smile and disappearing.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew came awake with a sudden start, jolting upright in a startled shock before calming when he noticed the familiar surroundings of his tent. It was wide and made of white cloth with layers of rugs to protect the interior from the potentially muddy ground.


    While most of the camp made do with cots if they were lucky or blankets on the ground if they were not, Mathew had an actual bed afforded to him from the privilege of pretending to be a Prince. He was still wearing his armour, and someone had laid him on the top of the bed without putting any sheets over him.


    He was unwounded and in good health, aside from the lingering headache that Mathew wasn¡¯t sure if it was real or a haunting memory from his dream.


    It had been too vivid to have been a dream or his imagination; no, Arthur had been there with him. The things he had revealed had been real; Mathew could never have made it up himself. Running his hands through his hair, he suddenly froze.


    There was light coming from the half-open flap of his tent, revealing that it was daylight. But it was the shadow on the far wall that caught his attention. There was a set of eyes there, watching him. Only a single pair, for now, but it was enough for Mathew to halt his movements and study them carefully.


    Were they real or was it a side-effect of using the Word of Power? Would they eventually go away, losing interest in him if he refrained from using the Words for a period of time?


    Mathew had no one to ask aside from Arthur, and he doubted the man would help him. He would have done so if he had known or was willing to reveal his knowledge.


    Seeing that the pair of eyes were not going to move or stop watching him, Mathew carefully got out of bed. He was washing his face in a nearby wash basin when Alfred entered the tent.


    ¡°You¡¯re up!¡± Alfred exclaimed in surprise as he observed Mathew carefully. Seeing that he was unharmed, Alfred approached him.


    ¡°I am. How long was I out?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Two weeks. We nearly sent you back to Londinium for treatment, but Enalious forbade it. He didn¡¯t want to cause a panic.¡± Alfred replied.


    ¡°Two weeks¡­How is everything here?¡± Mathew asked as he moved away from the wash basin and outside into the bright sunlight.


    They were in a camp and no longer near the coast. Trees surrounded them, and the army seemed to have grown since he had last seen it. There were groups of strange humans dressed in rags, no doubt survivors liberated from the Demi-Beasts.


    ¡°Settled, for the most part. Once the Ancestral Beast died, things moved along swiftly. We¡¯ve cleared the Bearfolk out and driven them off the island. They retreated to one of the hidden, magical paths their shamans can create underground. They are probably near the mainland by now.¡± Alfred explained.


    ¡°Good, then we¡¯re done here.¡± Mathew replied. Alfred came beside him and held out his hand. In it was the crystallized heart of the Ancestral Beast. It was clear and caught the light, reflecting it onto the ground in a kaleidoscope of colours.


    It was beautiful and filled with mana.


    ¡°Here.¡± Alfred stated before Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°You keep it. Like I said, it¡¯s safer with you than me.¡± Mathew replied before remembering that he would need to check how much Aether he had made in the fighting. He needed to purchase some new Blessings, preferably ones that had nothing to do with the Words of Power.


    He wouldn¡¯t be using them until he understood more about the side effects. The last thing he wanted was the spirits of the Celestials haunting him more than they already were. He took a peek behind him at the shadows cast by the tent against the sun, and he could still find the eyes locked onto him, studying his every move.


    Mathew shivered despite the warmth.


    ¡°We should start getting everything packed and ready to go. Now that this island is free, we¡¯ll take a smaller force to Francia and hunt the Ancestral Werebeast.¡± Mathew stated, and Alfred nodded at his words.


    ¡°The Francians will agree to assist, provided they know we aren¡¯t an invading force. It¡¯s been a thorn in their side for centuries, and they will be happy to have the gold mine in Creuse back where it made its nest.¡± Alfred responded.


    It took a week for the army to pack up and return to the ships, with a force left on the island to protect it.


    While the main host of ships returned to Londinium, Mathew and a small party of a dozen Knights, including Marten, a half dozen Mages, including Alfred, Daphne and Enalious, sailed to Francia¡¯s northern port of Calais, where they would then march south to Creuse along with an equal number of Francian Knights and Mages.


    Landing on the Francian shore, they were met by a Noble whom Mathew had heard about but hadn¡¯t had an opportunity to meet before. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ in the back of his neck gave him a warning that this man was someone not to underestimate.


    Louis, The Dauphin of Francia and heir to the Throne and ¡®Aiden¡¯s¡¯ equal, stood in front of his knights in full armour with a tabard covering his torso that proclaimed his house, The Fleur-De-Lis in gold on a field of blue. There was an aura about him that calmed those nearby and made them look favourably upon him.


    With long, platinum blond hair and bright blue eyes, the Dauphin nodded as Mathew approached and greeted him.


    ¡°Aiden, I bid you welcome to Francia. Let us hunt an Ancestral Beast, and the bards will sing songs of our bravery.¡± Louis stated as he smiled.

 Chapter 160 – Floor 15: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 160</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 6


    Alfred watched ¡®Aiden¡¯ carefully as the man who had assumed the identity of his lost brother stared out at the darkness surrounding their campfire with a serious expression. He had caught him doing so many times over the course of their journey, but he had thought it was because they were in a foreign country amongst strangers.


    But Aiden interacted with Prince Louis as if they were long-lost brothers or friends who had been absent from each other for years. Sometimes, people just ¡®click¡¯ with each other, and the two Princes were an example of it.


    During the day, they would ride their horses close to each other, chatting casually about a variety of topics. When the party would set up camp for the evening, they would drink wine and laugh until the sun went down, at which point Aiden¡¯s attitude would change.


    He would gain a serious demeanour, and his face would often frown in the darkness.


    ¡°I hear the call of my bed beckoning to me. Good night, and rest well.¡± Louis said as he stood up from the log he was using as a seat and stretched. After bidding the Prince of Francia goodnight, he returned to his tent and sealed the flap.


    Seeing that they were relatively alone, except for Daphne, who was nearly dozing into sleep next to the fire, Alfred moved closer to ¡®Aiden¡¯ and spoke.


    ¡°What is it? Is there something out in the darkness?¡± Alfred finally asked when they were alone. He kept his voice low so as not to draw attention. If there was danger, he knew that Aiden would have already warned those present.


    Aiden started slightly in surprise, which was rare for him. It demonstrated how caught up in his thoughts and concerned he was with the darkness that Alfred could take him unawares. Aiden looked at him for a moment, frowned, then shook his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡± Aiden replied in an attempt to brush aside Alfred¡¯s concerns. But the young prince had spent enough time with him to know that there was a problem. When Aiden saw that Alfred would not let it drop, he let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair.


    ¡°It¡¯s a side effect of using the Word of Power I gained from Arthur. They¡¯re watching me from the darkness, and I don¡¯t know what they want.¡± Aiden admitted, and Alfred couldn¡¯t help but peer into the darkness at whatever was causing Aiden such concern, but he saw nothing but the black of night.


    ¡°They?¡± Alfred asked.


    ¡°The Celestials. Don¡¯t ask because I don¡¯t know much about them; just that they created the Words and are all dead. Alien ghosts are haunting me.¡± Aiden muttered, scowling at the words he spoke.


    ¡°Is there anything that can be done? Perhaps Arthur has a solution.¡± Alfred advised, and Aiden¡¯s scowl worsened.


    ¡°He does, and no, it¡¯s not something I¡¯m willing to do. I thought that if I gained a few levels, they would go away, but I¡¯m at the max of my Discipline, Level 50 in total, and they are still there.¡± Aiden said, but Alfred didn¡¯t understand the meaning behind his statement.


    Discipline? Level 50?


    ¡°Forget it.¡± Aiden instructed as he stood up from his spot in front of the campfire.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get used to it, at least until they eventually lose interest. It¡¯s not like I plan to use any more of the damnable Words anymore.¡± Aiden mumbled half to himself before returning to his tent. As he walked, his footsteps disturbed the nearly asleep Daphne, who blinked awake and looked around in confusion at the almost empty campsite.


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    ¡°Where did everyone go?¡± Daphne asked, her voice slightly slurred from tiredness. They had set a fast pace over the past few days. Their campsite was just off a farmer¡¯s field in a small thicket of trees that sheltered it from the wind.


    ¡°To bed. Come on, let¡¯s join them.¡± Alfred said as the pair of mages returned to their respective tents and slept.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Their party arrived in Creuse after a week of travel. The band of dozens of Anglican and Francian Knights, Mages and Nobles made quite a stir in the small village.


    The town¡¯s only inn was quickly filled by Mathew, Louis and a few of the higher-ranking members of their group, meaning the rest had to stay with some of the villagers or in the stables at the edge of town.


    Thankfully, the gold mine was only a couple miles away in the hills east. There were tracks for mine carts laid down all the way from the warehouse by the river to the gold mine, making it easy to follow.


    The Ancestral Werebeast had claimed it as its lair a number of years ago, and despite numerous attempts to remove it, the stubborn monster stayed. Eventually, it was decided to allow the creature to have the mine, boarding up the entrances and stationing a garrison of troops to ensure it stayed there.


    Overall, the arrangement worked; it was better than other times when the beast roamed freely and infected the local farmers and settlements with its curse. But there was a time limit to its rest; it would eventually awaken and stalk the lands once more, causing no end to trouble as it had for centuries.


    Prince Louis had been training for most of his life to fight the Demi-Beasts, both this Ancestral Beast in Creuse and several others across Francia.


    ¡°There are more?¡± Mathew asked. The notification for the Floor had only spoken of the five; he didn¡¯t know there were others in the territory.


    ¡°Many more. They have been driven to the edge of Francia, but the tide always rises and pushes back against the shore.¡± Louis replied. His English was nearly perfect, with only a slight accent. Mathew found himself liking the young man, who was always calm and collected no matter the situation.


    He found himself wondering if the gods would offer him a place in the Tower like they had done with other exceptional individuals.


    ¡°Why were they not on the list?¡± Alfred asked from beside him. They were riding toward the mine, following the tracks laid into the ground that hadn¡¯t been used in a decade, not since the Ancestral Werebeast had taken residence here.


    The iron was rusted and covered in weeds and plants but easy enough to follow.


    ¡°Perhaps they don¡¯t have the hearts we¡¯re looking for.¡± Mathew replied.


    Louis had been informed of their purpose, to gather the hearts of the Ancestral Beasts for a ritual, and had been more than happy to help. It was a win-win for Francia; they would have a problem removed from their territory, and the Princes of Anglia would have an item necessary for Alfred¡¯s recovery.


    Louis saw no reason to contest the arrangement.


    ¡°When it comes to the gods, there are myriad reasons for the things they do. It is not for us mortals to question.¡± Louis advised, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°This is it?¡± He asked, pointing to a large hole in the side of the hill where the tracks led. There were discarded tools and carts around it, rusted from the weather. No one had come back here after abandoning them.


    ¡°Oui.¡± Louis replied in French. He gestured to his people to spread out and begin preparations. The mages began marking symbols on the ground or setting up ritual materials for summoning beings to help them.


    The Knights dismounted, tying their horses to trees far away from the fighting. They wouldn¡¯t be much help here in such close quarters. They drew swords, axes or maces and made their own arrangements, covering their weapons in poisons and oils deadly to werebeasts.


    While they did so, Mathew had the cart they had brought all the way from the boats unloaded. Three cannons had been carted all the way from Anglia, along with the most potent explosives they could fire.


    ¡°Alright, the plan is simple. We blast that hole with the heavy stuff and hope we piss off the werebeasts enough to fight out in the open. There¡¯s no way in hell we are going down into the mine to fight. I¡¯ve done it before, and it¡¯s just asking to be ripped apart.¡± Mathew went over the plan again as Marten and several other Knights lifted the heavy cannons and began to piece them together.


    Seeing that no one argued, Mathew continued.


    ¡°Once they come out in the open, Enalious and his mages will give them everything they have. I don¡¯t want anyone coming closer to these things than they need to; the curse can spread pretty easily if Louis is correct.¡± Mathew paused for questions.


    ¡°It¡¯s a wererat; fire and acid spells will work best.¡± Enalious added as he looked around at his small cadre of mages.


    ¡°Hit them hard, but make sure they are out of the tunnel before you do. The inside is reinforced with wooden beams and magic, but it will collapse if you strike it directly. If that¡¯s all, let¡¯s get to work. We have an Ancestral Wererat to kill.¡±

 Chapter 161 – Floor 15: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 161</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 7


    With the noonday sun directly overhead, the combined forces of Aiden of Anglia and Louis of Francia watched the mine opening nervously as they formed a half circle at the entrance. They were unsure of how many werebeasts would be inside the tunnels; the Ancestral Wererat had made this mine its home for decades.


    It was unnerving how quiet everything was. Mathew could hear the shuffling of feet, the nervous tightening of leather gloves as they gripped weapons or soldiers rechecking their rifles. The long, wooden and metal rifles used magical alchemy to propel a round ball engraved with runes with enough power that it could harm a Demi-Beast.


    There was no wind, something that Mathew had hoped for as it could cause the fire they were about to create to go out of control. They wanted the flames heading toward the tunnel, not falling back on their lines.


    ¡°Milord, we¡¯re ready.¡± Marten said as he came up behind Mathew. Daphne and Alfred were next to him, ready to use their magic in the coming battle, while Enalious floated above them along with the remaining mages.


    Mathew looked to Louis, who confirmed that his own forces had completed their preparations with a small nod. The man had a long, steel blade held in his hands. Made of thin curved metal, the sabre was beautiful and elegant, and it had an ivory handle.


    But Mathew didn¡¯t underestimate the sword because of its thinness; it had the glow of magical enhancements around it. The blade left blue streaks in the air as it moved and created a loud, piercing scream as it did so.


    Louis called it the ¡®Epee de Larmes¡¯ or the ¡®Sword of Tears¡¯ but refused to elaborate on why it had earned that name. With his steel armour shining in the sunlight and blue tabard, Louis projected grace and nobility.


    Mathew, on the other hand, looked like a murderous thug.


    His foreign armour, black and silver that lacked any trappings or sigils of a noble house, mixed with his heavy, rusty executioner-style sword carried on his shoulder like a brute about to carry out his business of killing, meant he had a terrifying presence.


    ¡°You have command, Marten.¡± Mathew said, looking at the young knight. Marten nodded hurriedly and made his way back to the line of Knights. Drawing his own sword, he raised it up high.


    ¡°Fire!¡± Marten shouted, his voice enhanced with magic to ensure that it carried across the battlefield.


    The detonation of the three massive cannons was thunderous. A cloud of smoke erupted from each and rose toward the sky in a black pillar. The ground shook from the blast and rocked again when each cannonball stuffed full of alchemy mixtures arced through the air and entered the mine entrance.


    Green flames engulfed the entrance, billowing outwards and skyward. The heat was so intense that even Mathew covered his face from where he stood three hundred feet away. The magical flames didn¡¯t die down. Instead, it slithered across the ground deep into the cave system, burning everything in its path.


    ¡°Fire!¡± Marten ordered once again, and another volley of explosives flew toward the cave entrance. This time, the explosion shook the ground violently, and earth erupted from the hill, opening up new entrances to the ground as the force of the blast launched stone and soil in all directions.


    ¡°Hold!¡± Marten shouted, gesturing with his sword to both sides of him to have everyone ready themselves for the werebeast response.


    They didn¡¯t have to wait long.


    A tremendous roar sounded out from the cave, and the green flames were smothered by a powerful force deep within. The shockwave of the roar pushed back the waiting army, causing some to fall to their knees momentarily to keep their place in line.


    The ground shook and in an instant, there were figures rushing out of the tunnel. First, dozens, then hundreds of werebeasts emerged and sped across the land between the gathered humans and the mine.


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    Wererats were humanoid, their bodies covered in black or brown fur, with long ears, sharp fangs and clawed hands. They wielded weapons in their hands, all taken from the various people they had devoured over the years. Sword and Axes, spears and pitchforks along with clubs.


    The humans, who only numbered a hundred in strength, raised their rifles and crossbows, took aim at the wererats, and fired. The first volley tore through the approaching creatures, ripping limbs from the torso and spilling blood across the ground.


    The arrows pierced their targets, tripping them up when they struck their legs or outright killing them when they hit their heads or bodies. Mathew saw one unfortunate werebeast filled with so many arrows that, when it finally fell, it couldn¡¯t rest against the ground; the arrows propped it up on an angle.


    ¡°Reload!¡± Marten shouted as the soldiers set their crossbows on the ground and hauled back the line to set it for another shot. The riflemen filled theirs guns with the mixture of gunpowder and alchemy solutions before setting a ball and packing it tight with long sticks.


    ¡°Now!¡± Enalious followed Marten¡¯s command with one of his own. Mana swirled around the Anglican and Francian mages as they gathered their magic. Chanting the mystical words to their spells, they unleashed a barrage of fireballs that arced across the air and landed amongst the werebeasts before spreading out and burning everything around them.


    It was a slaughter. By the time the third volley of bolts and bullets was fired, there were no werebeasts left alive. Mathew and Louis hadn¡¯t needed to become involved at all. Beside them, Alfred and Daphne panted from the loss of mana. The few spells they had cast had taken quite a bit of power, and they needed a moment to recover.


    ¡°Rest!¡± Marten bellowed, and the line of Knights and soldiers all lowered their weapons. Some sat down right where they were and wiped the sweat from their foreheads.


    Mathew turned to look at Louis, who was frowning at the battlefield.


    ¡°Could your intel be wrong?¡± Mathew asked, and Louis shook his head.


    ¡°Non, c¡¯est vrais. The Ancestral Werebeast is here.¡± Louis replied. He stared intently at the still-smoldering entrance to the cave and nodded.


    ¡°It just needs some encouragement, incentive to reveal itself. We must drag it out into the light if it does not come out willingly.¡± Louis explained as he stepped forward.


    He gestured to his bodyguard and Mathew not to approach; Louis made his way through the field of dead and dying wererats before stopping in a small, clear area a dozen feet away from the cave. Louis knelt with the point of his sword in the ground, and his forehead rested against the hilt as if he were in prayer.


    Mathew heard the words he spoke clearly, even with the distance between them. Strangely, he understood what Louis said, even though the Prince of Francia was speaking French.


    ¡°Weep, O¡¯ heavens. Cry for those slain by this blade, for they will never know the light of your grace, the comfort of your blessing.¡± Louis whispered, and Mathew felt a chill as if an oppressive power had descended. The sky above darkened with clouds, and the wind picked up.


    Louis slowly stood and raised the graceful sword skyward just as the dark grey clouds above roiled and the wind howled through the trees around them.


    ¡°La Fin.¡± Louis stated, and he slashed down with the sword. The blue light that followed shot out from the edge of the blade and carved its way through the ground toward the mine. When it struck, a blast of mana was greater than the cannons had created. It rocketed upwards, billowing outwards until it pierced the cloud cover.


    Even Mathew was impressed by the power displayed by the Prince of Francia. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ grew stronger, and he estimated that Louis was about the same Level as himself, or perhaps even stronger.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s something.¡± Mathew whispered, and Alfred nodded.


    ¡°Do you think it will-¡± Alfred was interrupted by the ground shaking violently, and the head of a massive black rat with red eyes burst from the earth. With a deafening screech, it launched itself at Louis. The Prince protected himself with his sword, and the battle with the Ancestral Werebeast began.


    ¡°That¡¯s my cue.¡± Mathew said. Hefting his sword securely onto his shoulder and feeling its incredible weight pressing down on him, he activated his Blessings and leapt after the pair as they rampaged across the battlefield.


    <u>Page Break </u>


    Mathew set down the Wrathful Blade, grateful to have the weight of it gone. He was exhausted, out of mana and heavily injured. Louis sank down onto the ground beside him; his armour was no longer shining and clean. He was covered in mud and blood; his blue tabard with the symbol of his house was in tatters.


    The pair of them looked like they had been tossed around in a storm, shredded and dirtied before being cast aside.


    But they had done it. In Mathew¡¯s hand was the heart of the Ancestral Werebeast. Similar to the other one had gained, this one was also made of crystalized Aether, and it pulsated with mana.


    ¡°C¡¯est fini.¡± Louis said, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°This one is, yeah. I still have another three left.¡± He replied tiredly before tucking the heart into his inventory. He would give it to Alfred later once they returned to the site of the battle. They were miles away from it now; their chase of the Ancestral Werebeast had taken them up the hills and through a forest.


    ¡°What do you plan to do now?¡± Mathew asked, and Louis shrugged.


    ¡°I trained for so long in order to kill them. Now that I have, it would be a shame to stop. How would you feel about having some more company on your way to Rome?¡± Louis asked, and Mathew grinned in response.

 Chapter 162 – Floor 15: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 162</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 8


    Unlike the Rome of Mathew¡¯s world, the former capital of the Roman Empire and the beacon of civilization for centuries was a desiccated corpse of its past self.  At its height, Rome had a population of over a million people, and its reach extended from Anglia in the West to Byzantium in the East.


    Now, less than a hundred thousand souls were living in abject poverty in Rome. Anyone with wealth had already moved away, leaving only the destitute to eke out a living within its shattered walls.


    In such a place, it was only natural for the Vampiric Ancestral Beast to find a haven. With a guard of enslaved humans to protect it during the day, the Ancestral Beast lived deep beneath Rome in a network of catacombs built during the time of the Roman Emperors.


    Mathew and his companions assessed the city from their ship as it sailed into the harbour. A corrupting haze lay across the city, a murkiness that came from the evil that dwelled within. There were no officials waiting at the docks, nor were there any guards on the streets.


    Rome had been left to rot.


    Mathew frowned from the railing of the ship as he studied the city. It was early morning, and the sun was peeking over the horizon. They had chosen their arrival time carefully.


    ¡°We need to kill it while the sun is with us.¡± Mathew muttered. He estimated they had twelve hours or so before the sun set, and they lost the advantage the light gave them.


    The Vampiric Ancestral Beast was allergic to sunlight; not only would it burn its flesh, but its powers were much weaker during the day. It possessed nearly godlike abilities at night, but every strength had a corresponding weakness. It was possible to kill it when the sun was in the sky above them.


    Fire would work as well, which is why Mathew had spent all the Aether he had gained from slaying the Wererat Ancestral Beast on a new Blessing. It had been the most expensive Blessing in the shop, but hopefully, it would make a difference.


    Otherwise, he may have to rely on the Word of Power: Burn.


    Mathew could still feel the eyes of the Celestials watching him from the darkness. He refrained from turning and looking at the shadow cast by a pile of rope that he knew contained the judging orbs of the spirits.


    He shuddered to think how the effects would worsen if he used it again. He was already having difficulty sleeping, and his nerves were frayed by the unending stares of the darkness.


    Would they start talking to him or touch his skin?


    He pushed those depressing thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. The ship docked at an empty pier, and a few of the locals watched them disinterestedly. Dressed in rags, with sunken cheeks and frail frames, they reminded Mathew of the undead he had fought on the first floor.


    ¡°Aye, we don¡¯t stand a chance after the sun sets.¡± Enalious spoke from beside him.


    Despite the warm Mediterranean air, the archmage had added another layer of clothing over his robes. His robes had more protective enchantments weaved into the cloth, and Mathew could feel a tingling on his skin from them.


    ¡°Any luck determining where it is located?¡± Alfred asked.


    He looked slightly healthier, but Mathew still required him to stay on the ship. There was no way in hell he would be letting the young man enter the city, not with the miasma seeping through everything and seeming to drain the very life from the place.


    ¡°Yes. The Miasma is a side effect of the Vampiric Ancestral Beasts'' presence. We will find it wherever it is the thickest. To aid in that endeavour, I have crafted these.¡± Enalious pulled out a small, crystal sphere from the pocket of his robes and handed it over to Mathew.


    Holding it up in front of his eyes, familiar burning letters only visible to his own eyes appeared above the object.


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    Item Name: Tracking Sphere


    Summary: Created by the Archmagus Enalious, this crystal sphere will gather the ambient miasma released by the Vampiric Ancestral Beast and guide the user toward the source. Also includes a ¡®communication¡¯ function.


    ¡°How many do you have?¡± Mathew inquired.


    ¡°A half dozen. I suggest we break into groups and track the Beast. When we find it, the spheres will broadcast the location to all the others.¡± Enalious explained as he pulled out a few more and handed them out.


    The archmagus had been locked in his ship''s cabin for weeks crafting the spheres; this was the first time he had come to the upper deck since they had left Francia. Once the spheres had been given over, Louis spoke up.


    The Francian had been eager to kill another Ancestral Beast and had not only offered transport to Rome but whatever supplies they needed. The Prince smiled as he held the crystal sphere aloft and let it catch the light.


    ¡°That solves the problem of finding the beast. Once we do, we have the means to drag it out of its hole and into the light.¡± Louis looked to his own Archmagus, an older Francian woman who led a cadre of mages. Enalious and the Francian archmagus were familiar but hadn¡¯t had many opportunities to interact over the years.


    ¡°Binding Chains, blessed by the gods and imbued with the power of the sun. It will be unable to break them as long as it is daylight.¡± She said as her people brought out coils of thin chains that glowed white and silver.


    Mathew could feel the power in those chains, and the ¡®Buzz¡¯ warned him of the mana within them. He knew he could likely break through them; they were designed to keep the Vampiric Ancestral Beast contained through the use of its aversion to the sun, but it would take him time.


    ¡°We have a plan. Split into groups, find the monster and drag it out into the light.¡± Mathew ordered, and they got to work unloading the ship while the locals watched them without a trace of curiosity in their eyes.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Do you get the impression that we aren¡¯t welcome here?¡± Daphne asked softly as she followed Marten down a wide road in the center of the city. The docks were far behind them now, and the miasma that made the sky hazy was growing stronger.


    The disinterested look on the faces of the locals was subtly shifting towards dislike and outright hostility. They haven¡¯t acted on it so far, remaining content to follow these strange newcomers to Rome with their eyes, but Daphne could feel it.


    ¡°Yes, we are most unwelcome here. I would hazard to guess that if we didn¡¯t have sun protection, we would be in for a much more violent reception.¡± Marten responded as he eased his sword in its scabbard. He would draw the blade an inch or so and then slam it back into its sheathe with a clang.


    Behind them were a half dozen knights and mages from both Anglia and Francia. Their nervousness was palpable, and they watched every corner and person in sight with wariness.


    They followed the trail left by the crystal sphere in Marten¡¯s hands. The orb wasn¡¯t as accurate as they had hoped; it merely gave them a vague impression of the source of the miasma. But, with a half dozen groups scouring the city, they hoped to find the Vampiric Ancestral Beast by noon when the sun was at its zenith.


    ¡°Why do they stay?¡± Daphne asked as she stared at the pitiful forms of the locals huddled together in dilapidated buildings or scrounged in piles of refuse for food. None of them seemed to possess the will to live or attempt to leave Rome.


    ¡°They are prisoners here, like cattle in a field. They are no more able to leave than those poor wretches we rescued in the North.¡± Marthen commented. He ignored the locals and focused on the directions given by the crystal orb.


    They could do nothing for these people, not until they killed the Vampiric Ancestral Beast. Perhaps then they will regain some of their spirit.


    Or they could finally be granted the peace of death.


    Daphne was about to respond when the orb in Marten¡¯s hands gave a bright flash of light. It rose into the air and shot across the sky.


    ¡°That¡¯s the signal; someone has found its lair! Follow it!¡± Marten shouted. They were soon running through the streets, the trail of light left by the orb easy to follow as the pounding of their feet echoed against the buildings that lined the twisting street of Rome.


    They soon made their way through the Colosseum; the white stones had long since been dyed a dull grey by the miasma¡¯s corruption. They met several other groups on the way and when they entered the ruins, they found Prince Aiden and Prince Louis standing above a large hole in the ground at the center of the old Roman structure.


    Marten could see Miasma leaking from the opening like smoke rising into the air from a campfire. The feeling of malevolence that had been present throughout Rome felt much stronger here.


    The two Princes were discussing something, with Prince Louis shaking his head almost violently as he denied Aiden¡¯s words.


    ¡°- by us. We must be the ones to use it, and I will lead it.¡± Louis responded, only to be shut down by Aiden.


    ¡°I have experience in this area, Louis. I will enter and use the chains.¡± Aiden replied.


    ¡°We will go together.¡± Louis tried to compromise, only for Aiden to shake his head.


    ¡°I need you here in case something goes wrong. Besides, this tunnel is only large enough for one person to enter at a time. The best you could do is stand behind me and watch as I get killed; better you guard the surface and prepare to yank this bastard out of the ground.¡± Aiden stated that there was no more arguing with him.


    Marten could see that Louis wanted to, but Aiden didn¡¯t give him a chance. Taking the end of the chain, Aiden leapt into the hole that led to the Vampiric Ancestral Beast.

 Chapter 163 – Floor 15: Part 9

    <u>Chapter 163</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 9


    The chain in Mathew¡¯s hands glowed brightly with a golden light as he descended into the catacombs beneath Rome. They felt warm in his hands like he was holding a part of the sun itself. The light drove back the darkness, obscuring the eyes that watched him.


    Mathew was grateful for its light; if he had to be in a dark tunnel with just the spirits of the Celestials and himself, he thought he might go mad.


    The catacombs were one of the more interesting places Mathew had been, with the carved stone containing frescos and paintings that bore the test of time well. He had expected them to be damp and cold, but the catacombs had a steady flow of dry air that only carried a slight hint of death and decay.


    That was until Mathew descended even further, and the catacombs became something out of a nightmare.


    The floor was covered in human bones with fleshless skulls piled in corners as if discarded after a great feast. The further he went, the fresher the kills became. Gleaming white bones were replaced with whole bodies, their flesh sunken and dry as all the blood within them had been drained.


    The walls were covered with scratch marks from fingernails, and the smell of death grew so strong that even Mathew had to cover his face with a scarf pulled from his inventory and breathe through his mouth in order to endure.


    The magical chain, his only link to the surface as it continued to stretch back behind him, grew hotter in his hands.


    Finally, after walking through the catacombs for an unknown amount of time, Mathew found the Vampiric Ancestral Beast.


    It was an old man with long white hair. He was wearing black robes and sat on a throne of white bones near the back of a large chamber. Mathew could see two fangs protruding from beneath his bloodless lips. He was so pale that the veins beneath his skin stood out.


    Unfortunately, he wasn¡¯t alone.


    The Vampiric Ancestral Beast had dozens of humans surrounding him, kneeling on the ground silently as they waited for their master to awaken. Each wore armour or various styles, and none of them were in good condition. Their weapons consisted of spears, swords, and axes, which were placed carefully on the ground beside them.


    Mathew peeked around the corner of the tunnel toward the chamber and assessed the situation. He needed to subdue the Ancestral Beast quickly before it could awaken and make trouble. Even though it was weak during the day, Mathew didn¡¯t want to risk fighting it in the catacombs where the ceiling could collapse.


    ¡°Quick and easy.¡± Mathew whispered to himself as he gathered the glowing, golden chain around his hands. Quickly enhancing his physical abilities with ¡®Alter Self,¡¯ he charged into the chamber, his boots hitting the ground the only sound.


    The human slaves reacted instantly, rising to their feet and gripping their weapons. Not slowing for a moment, Mathew used his Blessing on them.


    ¡°Earthbind!¡± He commanded, and yellow energy erupted from the ground, moving up the legs of the closest dozen and binding them into place. Weaving around the statue-like figure, Mathew leapt at the Ancestral Beast on its throne and hurled the length of the chain at its body.


    Like a lasso, the chain wrapped around the sleeping Vampiric Ancestral Beast and bound it tightly. Constricting in an instant, it enveloped the old man from his waist to his neck, trapping his arms to his body.


    The Vampire opened its eyes the moment the magical chain touched its body. Letting out a horrid scream that shook the chamber walls and made Mathew wince in pain, the old man struggled to get free.


    But the Francian Mages had done an adequate job constructing the binding chains, and no matter how much strength it put into its efforts, the Ancestral Vampiric Beast couldn¡¯t free itself. The golden chains turned a dark bronze, and flames coated the metal.


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    ¡°Pull, gods damn you!¡± Mathew muttered as he thought about those waiting on the surface for the signal. As soon as they saw the colour change, they should begin hauling the old vampire into the daylight with all of their might.


    But that didn¡¯t help Mathew at the moment. There were dozens of human bodyguards remaining, and they were all closing in on him rapidly. Pulling out the Wrathful Blade from his inventory, Mathew ignored the struggles of the trapped vampire and focused on fighting his way out.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Prince Louis, the Dauphin of Francia, watched the chain carefully as his friend descended into the depths of the catacombs far below Rome.


    He was as surprised as anyone to have formed a friendship with Prince Aiden; the youth from Anglia was so similar to himself in many ways that it was inevitable, he supposed. They both felt a strong sense of duty; even though Aiden tried his best to hide it, Louis knew that his friend would do anything to protect the people under his command.


    It was frustrating to be left on the surface while Aiden went into the darkness, but it made sense. He needed someone he could trust on the other end of the chain, ready to pull the Ancestral Beast into the light as soon as possible.


    Still, he would rather be down there, braving the danger with Aiden, instead of sitting safely here.


    ¡°Milord! Look!¡± One of the Knights shouted as he pointed at the darkness. There was an orange glow approaching rapidly from the depths, and Louis knew what it signalled immediately. By the time the chain in his hands changed from gold to bronze, he had gathered everyone together in a line, with the chain gripped tightly.


    ¡°Pull! Merde! Pull!¡± Louis ordered, punctuating his order with a curse, a rare occurrence from the normally calm Prince.


    Hand over Hand, they pulled the chain. As it lay in a pile at their rear, Louis suddenly felt intense resistance from their burden. The Ancestral Beast was fighting back, and, despite their best efforts, the chain began to retract back down into the catacombs.


    ¡°Pull!¡± Louis shouted, but it was no use. He could see the vampire at the edge of the darkness, its feet were dug deeply into the ground and refused to budge no matter how much they pulled.


    It was so close! They only needed a few more feet, and the Vampiric Ancestral Beast would be in the sunlight.


    ¡°More!¡± Louis ordered.


    ¡°Milord!¡± Someone shouted, and Louis turned to find that several of their group had collapsed onto the ground.


    There were locals fighting amongst them, wielding rocks and clubs. Normally, they would be too weak to hurt a trained and bloodened Knight or Mage, but Louis and his people were too busy trying to pull out the vampire to protect themselves.


    ¡°Thunderous Uprising!¡± Alfred shouted and slapped his hands together while channelling his mana into his spell. A shockwave of force and sound erupted outwards, blasting back the locals without hurting them.


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep them back! Pull!¡± Alfred shouted before rushing toward another group of locals. Too weak to be of much use pulling the chain, he was much better suited to casting spells to drive the maddened locals back and protect their group.


    The Ancestral Vampiric Beast was using its influence on the populace, commanding them to come to its defence. Although it was weaker during the day, it still had considerable power.


    Louis couldn¡¯t imagine how difficult this would become once the sun went down. He snuck a quick glance at the sky and estimated that they had an hour or two before it sank below the horizon.


    If they didn¡¯t drag the Vampiric Ancestral Beast out of the catacombs soon, they would have to give up the attempt and flee or risk their deaths from its retribution once night arrived.


    ¡°Aiden, If you have an ace up your sleeve, now is the time to use it.¡± Louis whispered as he strained to pull the chain even an inch further.


    ¡°Alter Body - Investiture of Flame.¡±


    A pillar of flames shot toward the sky, and the Vampiric Ancestral Beast screamed in agony and fear as the fire burned its flesh. A force struck it in the back, and its entrenched feet and legs left gouges on the sides of the catacombs as they dislodged.


    Louis fell backwards at the sudden slack in the chain. He watched in amazement as the Vampiric  Ancestral Beast tumbled across the ground and into the sunlight. It immediately caught fire, and even as it rolled and struggled to free itself, the chains kept it tightly bound.


    Its screams eventually faded into whines and gurgles before they were silenced forever.


    From the opening to the catacombs, Prince Aiden emerged. In his hands was a burning sword; the orange and red flames flickered across the blade and up his arms and down his torso. He seemed to be coated in a layer of fire, but it didn¡¯t seem to hurt him at all.


    Louis could feel the power radiating from his friend, a smothering layer of mana that coated everything around him and threatened to incinerate anything that got too close.


    The Vampiric Ancestral Beast turned to powder under the sun''s harsh rays, and lying in a pile of grey ashes was a shining crystal heart. The flames covering Aiden faded, and the Prince reached down and carefully plucked the Aether heart from the ashes.


    ¡°That¡¯s three.¡±

 Chapter 164 – Floor 15: Part 10

    <u>Chapter 164</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 10


    New York City was different in this world.


    Mathew remembered the city clearly, something that couldn¡¯t be said about his other memories of home. His parents'' faces, friends, job, and everything about his previous life before the Tower of Avarice were hazy as if he were trying to remember a dream.


    But he could recall New York City vividly. The buildings, the streets, the smells. Even now, he could close his eyes and picture it in detail.


    Mathew couldn¡¯t see many traces of his old home in this strange town as their ship approached the harbour.


    Sure, some things were the same. He could find hints of his New York in the terrain and rivers, the shape of the island and the surrounding lands. But New York City had never had a gigantic stone wall surrounding it, peppered with cannons and guarded by thousands of people against an army of Demi-Beasts that controlled most of the continent.


    The United States of America didn¡¯t exist in this world. No, instead, they had the United Colonies. No American Revolution was throwing off the yoke of their oppressors over taxes and unfair representation. Instead, Anglia, Francia and the kingdoms and Empires that had formed colonies here withdrew support and control because the cost wasn¡¯t worth it.


    There were millions of people in the Americas, men and women all doing their best to survive in a hostile environment. New York, Boston, and a few other major cities on the East Coast were all that remained. There had been settlements in the West, but they had fallen decades ago.


    It was into this war torn fortress city that Mathew and the others arrived. After docking and speaking to the officials in charge, they were escorted to a large apartment complex that had been set aside for their use and told to wait until the City¡¯s Governor could spare time to speak to them.


    Standing in front of the large window and staring out over the city, Mathew could see that most of the structures were made of wood, and the streets were unpaved and muddy. It was a far cry from the modern New York City he was accustomed to.


    Occasionally, patrols would march down the roads with rifles held in their hands and large, metal containers strapped to their back like packs. When he inquired about them, he had been told that it generated steam to propel the rifle''s projectile at extreme speeds.


    It was more efficient than using magic and mana to replicate, at the cost of being less effective against the Demi-Beasts.


    ¡°Tell me about the Kraken.¡± Mathew asked again, more to fill the silence than any need to be reminded of the details regarding their target.


    ¡°Ancestral Beast of the ¡®Merrow,¡¯ corrupted Merfolk twisted by its influence into Demi-Beast monsters. They are said to have a city under the sea, although no one has ever been able to verify that.¡± Enalious began his explanation.


    ¡°Because the Merrow kill and eat any human stupid enough to try.¡± Daphne added dryly.


    ¡°The Kraken has not been seen in centuries, not since the colonies were first established on these shores. The Merrow assault ships that make the Atlantic crossing. I am extremely surprised they did not make an attempt on us; there have been significantly less traffic across the ocean since we abandoned the colonies to their fate.¡± Enalious finished.


    ¡°Any weaknesses? How do we kill it?¡± Mathew asked, and Enalious shrugged in response.


    ¡°The Merrow are weak to electricity; lightning spells work the best. They are also not fond of the cold; the attacks on our settlements cease when the first snow falls. Strange, since they live in the depths where the temperature is low.¡± Enalious explained.


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    ¡°Spears and harpoons work as well, but they have to be enchanted. The Merrow have thick skin and scales, and I can only assume the Kraken will be the same.¡± Marten offered.


    ¡°We have everyone equipped with magical weapons, but we¡¯ll need to stock up on spears and harpoons from the local stores here in the city. It may take some time to complete our preparations.¡± Louis spoke up.


    ¡°Time isn¡¯t an issue. I feel that the Governor here is going to drag his feet every step of the way.¡± Alfred inserted.


    ¡°Would you be so eager to help us out if you knew what we were here to do? A couple of crazy Princes and their retinues out hunting Ancestral Beasts? I would also want to keep me and my people as far away as possible.¡± Marten countered, but no one could argue with him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll handle the Governor. You lot need to concern yourselves with coming up with a plan to draw the Kraken out of its hiding place. I don¡¯t like the idea of descending into the ocean to hunt it.¡± Mathew ordered.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about that. What we need is a tempting enough target that it won¡¯t be able to resist going after it. Here, take a look at this.¡± Alfred offered, pulling out a roll of parchment and placing it on the table in front of them. He weighed down the corners with a few wine glasses and the odd knickknack found around the room.


    Mathew leaned over to take a look. There was a complicated series of magical runes on the parchment, along with sections where three Ancestral Beast hearts would be located. On the right-hand side was a list of words that Mathew recognized as spell-casting components used by the mages of this world.


    ¡°A Ritual. What does it do?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Nothing. This is all intricate gibberish; the mana will flow through the symbols and disperse.¡± Enalious explained, tracing the lines with his finger. Mathew quirked an eyebrow at Alfred, looking for an explanation.


    ¡°He¡¯s right. This won¡¯t do anything aside from pumping out a lot of mana along with the scent of its source. Ancestral Beasts are very jealous; their connection to their territories means that they will not like another coming here. If the Kraken thinks an Ancestral Beast is located in New York, or wherever else we conduct this ritual¡­¡±


    ¡°It will come right for us.¡± Mathew finished, nodding as he studied the diagram. He looked up at Alfred.


    ¡°Good work. So, we have a plan. Now, we just need the Governor to sign off on it. Otherwise, we¡¯ll need to try out luck somewhere else. But having a large wall and a ton of cannons at our backs would be preferable.¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Absolutely not.¡± The Governor replied.


    Mathew and Louis stood in the Governor¡¯s office, a well-constructed and furnished room not far from where they had taken up residence. Unlike the rest of the town, the windows here didn¡¯t look at the wall surrounding the entire city. Instead, lush, green lawns and trees blocked it from view.


    The Governor was a middle-aged man in his forties with grey hair and a mustache that had a slight curl. He wore a military-style uniform and had a sabre belted at his side. If he was off-put by the fact that not only had the Prince of Anglia come to see him, but the Prince of Francia joined him, he didn¡¯t show it.


    After they had given a simple rundown of what they wanted to do, resupply, and use New York as a staging ground against the Kraken, the governor stood up from his desk and shouted. He ignored the tea that had been spilt over the stack of papers he had been reviewing.


    ¡°I will not allow the Merrow to view New York as a threat to their domain. If I give you the supplies you seek and shelter you from their wrath, they will destroy the entire city.¡± The Governor explained, his mustache quivering in a combination of fear and anger at their request.


    ¡°The Merrow already see New York as a threat. What difference will this make?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°They see New York as a feeding ground! They raid ships and merchants in order to steal their supplies and crews! They have not directly assaulted the walls in three years!¡± The Governor bellowed, and Mathew winced at the loud noise.


    ¡°They will again once they learn that fewer ships intend to make the crossing. Better to face them now, with our assistance, than alone.¡± Louis interjected.


    ¡°As if the two of you will be of much use. You have what, a hundred knights and mages between you? Bah!¡± The Governor responded, dismissing the notion with a sharp wave of his hand.


    ¡°We¡¯ve killed three Ancestral Beasts already.¡± Mathew stated, and the Governor froze. That wasn¡¯t something you heard every day. Word hadn¡¯t yet reached the Americas of their efforts in Anglia and Francia.


    ¡°We have a plan to draw out the fourth. I would prefer to do that here, with a wall and cannons to assist, but I¡¯m willing to compromise and do it alone. But we need supplies, Governor. We packed as much as we could on the ship, but it¡¯s not going to be enough. We¡¯re just asking that you give us what we need to put this monster down for good.¡± Mathew reasoned.


    ¡°If¡­If I were to agree to your request and let you operate from behind the walls, what would be in it for me?¡± The governor asked, and Mathew scoffed.


    ¡°Aside from a safer coast and an end to the Merrow abducting your people?¡± Mathew looked at Louis, who shrugged.


    ¡°It has been said that the Kraken¡¯s lair has many treasures. We do not have the time or means to search it. That task can be left to you.¡± Louis added, and the Governor¡¯s face lit up with greed.

 Chapter 165 – Floor 15: Part 11

    <u>Chapter 165</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 11


    In the center of the fortified city of New York, a ritual was taking place. Chanted words rang out as dozens of mages channelled their mana into the carved symbols and runes that dominated a large section of the market square that had been cleared of people and objects.


    The air was filled with Aether and Mana; the spicy scent also carried something else, an indefinable hint of something that Mathew could only assume came from the three Ancestral Beast hearts placed around the ritual space.


    The ritual itself accomplished nothing aside from pumping Mana and Aether into the atmosphere, carried out to sea by the strong winds coming from the east. He had no doubt that the Kraken would detect it, but would it fall for their ruse and come rushing at the city from its lair?


    ¡°Everything is ready.¡± Alfred said as he walked up to Mathew. The younger Prince had been tasked to organize things with the Governor.


    ¡°Good, let¡¯s go up and have a look.¡± Mathew responded as he turned away from the ritual site and started to walk toward the distant set of elevators that would take the pair to the top of the wall.


    At four stories high and made of stone stacked and fitted together from a local quarry, it wrapped around the entire island and protected it from assaults from the surrounding rivers and seas.


    ¡°Have you picked a new Blessing yet?¡± Alfred asked as they travelled.


    The ¡®Alter Body - Investiture of Flame¡¯ wouldn¡¯t be effective against the Kraken, and Mathew had mentioned the need to find a new blessing with the Aether, which he had gained from killing the ancestral werebeast.


    It had been a strange revelation for Alfred, the fact that such power could be gained so easily. It was akin to going into a store and spending gold to purchase superhuman abilities.


    ¡°Yeah. Investiture of Lightning works about the same as the other one but increases my speed instead of the strength of my physical attacks.¡± Mathew explained. They reached the lift to the top of the wall shortly after, a wooden structure that used a large counterweight to raise the platform.


    It swayed slightly in the wind, and Mathew could still hear the ritual chanting as they slowly rose higher. By the time they were standing on the battlements, Mathew couldn¡¯t hear much more than a scattered whisper of the magical language.


    The cannons had been loaded with enchanted armaments capable of generating electrical currents; when the Merrow emerged from the water, they would be susceptible to bombardment. But they couldn¡¯t do anything until they surfaced, meaning the Merrow had the advantage of being able to approach the walls unimpeded.


    Mathew had inquired about sending a force to confront the Merrow on the shore or at sea but had been shot down immediately. The Merrow had such an overwhelming advantage in the water that it would be suicide to send anyone against them.


    He inspected the cannons and found them all to be charged and ready, with gunners waiting for the signal to fire. Harpoon launchers were next to the large cannons, of which there were hundreds. These massive crossbow-like devices could launch a steel harpoon nearly a mile out, and each had a coil of magical rope connected to it.


    The plan was simple: draw out the Kraken and bombard it with everything they had. If that didn¡¯t kill it, they would use harpoons to keep the creature from retreating by sinking the barbed heads into its flesh and anchoring the ropes to the shore.


    Mathew leaned out over the parapet at the ocean. The water was grey, the sky cloudy, and there was a hint of rain in the air that threatened to worsen as the day went on. It was a rare moment of peace with all of the preparations and battles, and Mathew intended to enjoy it.


    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Mathew asked Alfred, more to fill the silence than out of genuine concern for the young man.


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    ¡°Fine. Better than I was before you arrived. However, I could have done without all the violence and threat of death that you brought. Thank you for that.¡± Alfred replied, and Mathew laughed slightly at the response.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Pretty soon we¡¯ll have five hearts, you¡¯ll be healed, and I can be on my way. Crown Prince Alfred of Anglia.¡± Mathew said, giving a half-hearted and mocking salute to his companion that had Alfred scoffing.


    ¡°Don¡¯t act like you have been doing all of this for me.¡± Alfred said, gesturing vaguely to all the activity and people around him. He felt guilty at times for putting all these people at risk, hunting the hearts of Ancestral Beasts for a ritual to heal him.


    ¡°I¡¯m not. I¡¯m doing it for myself because that¡¯s the only way I¡¯m going to be allowed to progress to the next floor. And everyone around us isn¡¯t doing it for you, either. They¡¯re doing it because the Ancestral Beasts are a threat.¡± Mathew frowned as he saw the Governor speaking to a group of commanders and higher-ranking people in the distance.


    Louis was with them; it was his turn to suffer the Governor. Alfred had finally managed to pawn off his responsibility to someone, freeing him from dealing with the Governor and his people.


    ¡°Or they¡¯re doing it for greed.¡± Mathew finished. The promise of whatever riches the Kraken had accumulated in its lair was a powerful incentive, although Mathew wasn¡¯t sure if such a treasure even existed.


    ¡°Why do you do it? From what I¡¯ve been able to tell about you, you don¡¯t seem like the kind of person desperate for power or eternal life. Why did you enter the Tower in the first place?¡± Alfred asked with curiosity.


    He didn¡¯t know much about Mathew; he had only learned the man¡¯s name a few months ago. Mathew was difficult to read and impossible to predict. He could be terrifying in battle but let insults wash over him like they were nothing.


    ¡°I entered to help someone.¡± Mathew whispered, shrugging his shoulder and not looking at Alfred.


    ¡°Did you?¡± Alfred inquired.


    ¡°Not yet. Maybe never. People are hard to track in the Tower; you can¡¯t exactly look them up or call their cell phone.¡± Mathew replied.


    ¡°Cell phone?¡± Alfred questioned, unfamiliar with the term.


    ¡°Never mind. Anyway, you should go check on that ritual again. We can¡¯t risk it not working.¡± Mathew said, and Alfred could recognize the clear dismissal in his voice. He obviously didn¡¯t want to talk about the Tower anymore, or perhaps he just wanted some time alone.


    Whatever the reason, Alfred left him alone and went to check on the ritual while Mathew continued to stare out at the ocean.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The Merrow arrived with the tide. The sea surged and released a horde of the corrupted Merfolk onto the shores and a host of other monsters.


    The Merrow resembled humans but scaled like a fish. They had webbed feet and hands but wore armour made of driftwood, kelp and seaweed. They rode giant fish leaping from the water and flying across the surface, their fins catching the air and propelling them forward.


    There were tens of thousands of them, a first wave of an army so numerous that they filled the ocean with their bulk.


    The humans responded with a bombardment of cannons that shook the ground and shattered the sky. The darkness that had descended on New York was lit by fire as the cannons radiated flames and heat from the discharge of their firing.


    Hundreds of objects sailed through the air toward the Merrow, and the sea creatures responded by shielding themselves with layers of water drawn from the sea. A massive bubble formed around them, shimmering in the light of the moon that peaked out from between the clouds.


    But such a barrier could never stop the force of cannons that had been designed to kill the Merrow. The projectiles impacted on the surface of the bubble, stopping suddenly in mid-air as they were unable to penetrate it.


    They detonated together in an instant, and a wave of bright yellow, blue and orange electricity arced outwards across the barrier. Nothing could stop the destructive power contained within the cannon¡¯s projectiles, and the shield the Merrow formed failed.


    The wave of electricity swept across the invading Merrow, burning them from within. They crashed to the ground, their flying mounts dying in droves. From where the human defenders stood atop the wall, they could hear the cries of pain and terror as the Merrow died and could smell the stink of their burning flesh.


    Wave after wave assaulted the wall and were driven back by the human''s overwhelming firepower. But so numerous were the numbers of the Merrow that soon they were fighting on top of the wall, and in the city, several of the gates had fallen to the assault, and bodies littered the streets.


    Through this chaos, the Kraken received the message from its enslaved Merrow that the city was on the verge of falling. There was no sign of any other Ancestral Beasts, but they had felt a collected energy that spoke of Crystallized Aether hearts gathered from the Kraken¡¯s fallen brethren.


    If it could obtain them, their power would become its to command. Driven by an insatiable hunger and greed, the Kraken left its lair and soon arrived at the city. When its head emerged from the depths of the sea, it saw its Merrow slaves crawling on the wall and breaching a city aflame.


    It merely needed to approach the city to feel the location of the Hearts and command its slaves to grab them.

 Chapter 166 – Floor 15: Part 12

    <u>Chapter 166</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 12


    The Kraken rose from the sea; its blue scales looked nearly black in the darkness as the water cascaded down from the gaps between them. Its eyes glowed a bright yellow and were slit like a cat. It slowly began to climb out of the water on four gigantic limbs with webbed feet like a turtle.


    Mana gathered around it like a mist or fog, encircling its body and sweeping across the ground and the surface of the water.


    Alfred watched it carefully from the top of the wall. Even from this distance, he could feel the power in its enormous body, its mana reserves as large as the ocean from which it had just risen. It was on an entirely different scale from any of the other Ancestral Beasts he had seen, and the only weakness he could ascertain from looking at the monster was that it was slow and awkward on land.


    Not that it mattered much, considering its thick skin and iron-like scales that covered it. Plus, there was an entire Merrow army between the city and the Kraken that they would need to kill before assaulting the beast directly.


    Their plan to draw it out of the water had worked; the lure of the ritual was too much for the Kraken to resist. The sight of the Merrow breaching several points in the wall had no doubt assured it of its victory, an important point in their plan.


    Everything they had done was a ruse. The city wouldn¡¯t fall so easily; their reserves were just waiting for the right time to attack and drive the Merrow from the city and back into the sea. Now that the Kraken was here, it was time to implement the next stage of the plan.


    ¡°It¡¯s time.¡± Alfred said to the Governor, who nodded and gave the command. All along the wall, burning torches were being raised to signal the start of the counterattack.


    Alfred had thought he had understood what a barrage of cannons could accomplish. He had seen them used in Northern Anglia and Francia. But the scale of what happened next was beyond anything he had had experienced before.


    The simultaneous firing of dozens of cannons started with a whoosh of air, followed by an explosive sound so thunderous that Alfred thought the world was ending. He couldn¡¯t imagine what the Merrow had experienced at that moment. Did they think that a god of noise and light had descended to Earth to see their destruction?


    The wall shook under his feet, and Alfred had to cling to the battlements to stay on his feet. It was lucky that he did so for, after a moment, a rush of air pushed past him with such force that he was nearly swept along with it.


    The darkness was instantly turned to an intense bright white by the detonation of dozens of magical spheres, all containing enough electricity to make a thunderstorm look tame by comparison. Alfred shielded his eyes against the brightness, but even then, the light burned through his eyelids, and he screamed in pain and terror.


    The rumbling worsened, and the wall felt like it would collapse at any moment. But, as loud as the explosions were, the screams from the Merrow pierced through. They died in the tens of thousands, burned out of existence by yellow lightning that arc between their conductive bodies.


    When the light died down enough for him to see, Alfred beheld a shore covered in the burnt and blackened bodies of the corrupted Merfolk. Others were fleeing, and the presence of the Kraken wasn¡¯t enough to keep them there.


    The Ancestral Beast itself was battered but alive. Great rents had opened across its body, oozing blood and seawater. It roared in pain, and Alfred thought that it might manage to turn around and escape, but the humans on the wall acted swiftly to prevent that.


    ¡°Bring it down!¡± Alfred heard Mathew shout with a voice enhanced with enough mana that it carried across the entire city and most of the surrounding land.


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    Hundreds of harpoons were launched at the Ancestral Beast, pinning it into place with coiled rope anchored to great boulders from the local quarry. Trapped, the Kraken couldn¡¯t flee when another barrage of magical spheres landed on top of it, sending another round of electricity coursing across its body.


    By the time they ran out of ammunition, most of the Merrow that had arrived were dead or fleeing. Those that hadn¡¯t managed to run were being driven into the ocean by the reserves, cut down by sword and spear.


    But the Kraken wouldn¡¯t die. It continued to struggle so fiercely that it began to destroy the harpoons and snap the ropes that kept it in place. It would soon free itself, but the violent movements and the strength it possessed meant that anyone who approached it would be crushed.


    ¡°Why won¡¯t it die?¡± Alfred muttered. He had never seen a creature with such vitality before; even in its damaged and beaten state, it refused to succumb. And they were left with no choice but to fight it directly.


    He felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, Alfred saw that it was Mathew. Prince Louis stood next to him, and both men looked grim.


    ¡°I want you to stay here. Make sure that no one follows us. This isn¡¯t a fight you can participate in.¡± Mathew ordered. Having said his piece, Mathew leapt off the top of the wall, followed a moment later by Louis.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Weep, For Your End Is Nigh.¡± Louis whispered as he drew the Sword of Tears from the scabbard at his belt. The blade vibrated slightly in the night air, making a wailing sound as he held it steady in front of him.


    The Kraken was free; the harpoons that bound it lay shattered on the ground. The Merrow were regrouping in the waters and would soon return. They needed to kill the Ancestral Beast and finish this while they could.


    Louis could see the damage to the Kraken; the beach was drenched in blood, and the seas were dyed red. But its power was intact, the mana surrounding it so strong that it felt like sandpaper against Louis¡¯ skin.


    He pushed his mana into the sword, and an overwhelming sense of sadness flowed back from the weapon. The Sword of Tears was aptly named; it contained the remorse of all the innocents whose lives had been cut short by its edge.


    It was once wielded by Charlemagne himself, who used the sword to end the lives of thousands of Saxons and Lombards. It was said that when the Emperor drew the blade against his enemies, the heavens would weep, and the fields would flood. Each life ended would make the sword stronger and that much more difficult to use.


    That resentment and grief were still within the Sword of Tears centuries later, passed down through Carolingian lineage until it now rested in Louis¡¯ hands. It required immense willpower to resist, and those who failed would become a broken, gibbering mess.


    Raising the sword upright, Louis slashed down toward the Kraken. The mana within his body plummeted as the sword consumed it to fuel his strike. A crescent moon of bluish-white energy shot out toward the Ancestral Beast, accompanied by a sorrowful scream of despair from the sword.


    ¡°La Fin!¡± Louis shouted the command word for the attack, The End. The penultimate ability of the Sword of Tears, he trained for years in order to bring out its full power.


    The crescent moon of energy struck the Kraken in the body, along its chest and shoulder. Cutting deep, it sent a spray of blood from the Ancestral Beast, and it howled in anger. But it didn¡¯t kill the monster, and soon, the Kraken was charging toward the Francian Prince.


    ¡°Alter Body ¨C Investiture of Lightning.¡± A bolt of white lightning shot down from the sky above, accompanied by the sound of thunder. It struck Mathew and began to arc from the Wrathful Blade in his hands and across the metal pieces of armour on his body.


    He could feel his body change to accommodate the investiture, his muscles strengthened, and his thoughts seemed to flow more quickly to account for his newfound speed. He dashed toward the Kraken, and Louis could only see a streak of light as Mathew disappeared and reappeared in mid-air above the Kraken.


    ¡°Alter Body ¨C Iron Bones!¡± Mathew shouted, and his weight doubled, then doubled again. The sword in his hands felt as heavy as a mountain, and he plummeted down toward the Ancestral Beast. He could feel his body straining; his flesh began to burn from the electricity, and gripping the sword was agony.


    He slammed the blade against the Kraken¡¯s next, exactly where Louis had just struck, and the magical sword carved its way through scales, flesh, muscle and bone. The lightning along the weapon¡¯s edge flared brightly as Mathew gave it as much mana as it required.


    A shockwave of force erupted from the point of contact, and Louis was pushed backward. Shielding his eyes from the sand blowing with the wind and the suddenly intense light, he could see nothing beyond his own fingers. But the sound was horrendous; a horrible screeching exploded from the Kraken as its head was separated from its body.


    When the light faded, Louis saw his friend standing next to the remains of the monster, its body already turning into specks of light that floated on the wind. He held a crystal heart in his hands.

 Chapter 167 – Floor 15: Part 13

    <u>Chapter 167</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 13


    In the 1600s, when it appeared that the Demi-Beasts would finally be eradicated from the North American continent after nearly a century of fighting, something happened in the East, changing the war in the Americas forever.


    Corruption began to spread. It started with a small patch of blighted farmland; the crops rotted and decayed. Once the vegetation had died, something else replaced it: a mutated plant, a hideously twisted version of what had grown there before.


    Corn blackened and filled with blood on the stalk, wheat that was white instead of golden brown and covered in thorns that would wrap around its victims. A pervasive sense of wrongness was beginning to grow in the West, and even the Demi-Beasts weren¡¯t immune to its effects.


    Over time, humans were forced to abandon their settlements, one after another, until everything east of the Rocky Mountains became a land forsaken by all life. In this rejected and neglected space, a new life form emerged, led by an Ancestral Beast different from all others.


    It lived in the Blight, and many suspected that it was its source. The Abhorrent Corrupted Ancestral Beast was a formless nightmare that no living being had seen before. No one knew its shape or abilities; no human had successfully entered the Western Territories and returned.


    Mathew and the others took a train, a heavily armoured line of carts that stretched for nearly a mile and decked out with enough firepower that any Demi-Beasts that found themselves in range would be eradicated in a moment.


    The old train tracks had once led directly from the East Coast to the West, but with the fall of the Western Territories and the increased ferocity of the Demi-Beasts, it had been rearranged significantly. Now, the tracks led from one city to another, a fortified bastion of humanity to the next, all the way to the Rocky Mountains, where the tracks ended.


    Of their trip West, not much of note happened. The party went from New York to Philadelphia, then Detroit to Chicago. Finally, their last stop was in the frontier town of Denver, where only a few thousand people occupied a stretch of land no bigger than a few square miles.


    They were hardy folk, grim and possessing few words. They kept their weapons close by and watched the group descend the steps of the train with wariness.


    It took over a month to make it this far, and they had weeks further to go to reach their destination. Using horses that had made the trip with them, Mathew and the others set out the next day without a guide; no locals were willing to make the journey with them.


    They encountered Demi-Beasts of all sorts in their trek to the mountains, more werebeasts and strange creatures that vaguely resembled humans. The worst was flying Demi-Beasts, humanoid monsters with wings jutting from their backs that would circle high overhead, hurl spears, and drop rocks on them.


    Some of their party didn¡¯t survive and were buried in the ground with only their swords or staffs to mark their passing.


    Each mile they came closer to their destination, the sense of unease in Mathew grew. The dormant ¡®Buzz¡¯ that hadn¡¯t stirred since they had faced the Kraken a month before began to revive. He felt a shiver go down his spine, and he knew the source of his distress was beyond the mountains.


    By the time the flat plains of Colorado were replaced by the tall mountain peaks of the Rocky Mountains, Mathew was so on edge that he could barely sleep. They rode their horses through paths carved through rock, across creeks and valleys until they were through.


    As rough as things had been on Mathew and the Knights, it had been hellish on Alfred. The young Prince was deathly pale and had coughing fits that left him out of breath and near collapse. But he refused to be left behind; he wanted to see this journey through to the end.


    They were all here for him and his need for the ritual to cure his illness. Alfred wouldn¡¯t let others face danger that he himself wouldn¡¯t risk.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    The '' Buzz '' exploded with agony when the path they were riding through opened up to a cliff overlooking the Western Territories. It was like seeing something out of his nightmares.


    The ground was black and red, with rivers of putrid green. The few trees in sight were warped and twisted, lacking leaves and covered in thorns. Mathew saw animals prowling in the distance, misshapen wretches that had patches of fur falling off. Often unable to walk properly, they dragged their bodies across the horrid earth.


    A thick haze of corruption lay over everything like a fog. When the wind blew toward the group from the Western lands, Mathew could smell death, decay and something else. It was almost the spicy smell of Aether, but a foreign scent was layered over it.


    It clung to his nostrils and tongue, and Mathew spat in an attempt to rid himself of the taste. He looked up at the sky and judged the remaining daylight. He estimated they had a few hours before sunset.


    ¡°Let¡¯s rest here for the night; I don¡¯t want to face on whatever is down there tonight.¡± Mathew ordered, and Louis agreed. They retreated from the cliff face so that the horrible sight of the land below was partially hidden and set up camp.


    Unsaddling the horses, they unpacked the mules they had brought with their supplies from Denver. With their tents set up, no one felt in the mood to idle around the campfire, not tonight. The knowledge that they would soon be descending into a hellscape weighed on everyone¡¯s mind.


    Mathew used his saddle as a pillow and settled down into his modest tent. He had ordered the party to leave anything unnecessary back in New York, travelling with only the essentials. After a month of travel by horse, even on a magical mount, Mathew was a weathered traveller now.


    He fell asleep almost immediately; his exhaustion drew him into a deep, dreamless state.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Mathew¡­..¡±


    A voice seemed to whisper on the wind from the corrupted Western Territories. It blew across the red and black ground, stirring the scant remains of gnarled and warped grass that still struggled to survive. It travelled across the green waters and ¡®hisses¡¯ as the acidic stream sent vapours to join it, only to disperse after a few miles.


    The voice on the wind rushed through the tents, swirling around the folded cloth walls and startling the horses, who whinnied in terror and tried to bolt, only to be calmed by some outside force a moment later.


    The voice on the wind crept through Mathew¡¯s tent and finally reached his ear.


    ¡°Mathew¡­¡± The wind whispered, and Mathew came awake with a start. He looked around in confusion but saw nothing. He swore he had just heard someone calling out to him.


    ¡°Hello?¡± Mathew asked the darkness, but only the eyes of the Celestials responded to his call. They blinked wearily at him, still staring at him despite all of the months since he had used the Word of Power. Ignoring them, he looked around before lying back down.


    A sense of calmness pervaded him, putting him at ease. He felt his tiredness fade away, and his nervousness departed his body. It was like he was floating, and his cares were far away.


    ¡°Mathew¡­¡± The voice called again, this time much clearer than he had heard it before. Still lying down in his tent, Mathew smiled dreamily.


    ¡°I¡¯m here.¡±


    He knew that voice. It was Emily. She had finally found him, she was here. His entire purpose for entering the Tower of Avarice was to find and assist her. That was his wish, to help her achieve hers.


    Now that she was here, they could climb the Tower together.


    ¡°Come find me, Mathew.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re already here.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m close, but I need you. Don¡¯t you want to help me, Mathew?¡±


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m on my way.¡±


    Mathew didn¡¯t even question the request. He got to his feet and left his tent; the sense of floating remained with him even as he walked out into the night. The moon was up above, and he could hear the wind against the trees.


    ¡°Where are you?¡± Mathew asked, looking around for Emily but not seeing her.


    ¡°Down here. You¡¯re so close!¡± The voice carried on the wind, and Mathew turned to look at the path that led down to the corrupted lands of the Eastern Territories. If Emily was down there, he would follow.


    He began to walk; the dreamy feeling made it seem as if he were flying across the ground. He soon left the tents and the horses behind. The land shifted around him in a blur and he soon found himself in the middle of a cluster of trees.


    The forest was barren, the trunks of the trees knotted, and red, horrible-smelling sap leaked from gashes in their bark. There was no grass or plants on the black ground, just streaks of red that welled up like blood from a wound.


    But Mathew wasn¡¯t concerned; nothing could hurt you in a dream. Emily had brought him here; it was safe. They were safe. They would soon be together.


    He peered into the clearing through the trees, and he saw a figure. It was hard to see in the darkness; the moonlight only revealed that it was about his size, but he couldn¡¯t make out the details.


    ¡°Mathew¡­Come closer.¡±


    The dreamy quality of the world around him intensified, and Mathew slowly walked forward. He was so near his goal, his purpose in life. She was right in front of him.


    ¡°Emily.¡±


    At utterance, the figure turned, and Mathew saw clearly in the moonlight.


    It wasn¡¯t Emily.


    Mathew screamed in terror, and the floating, dreamlike feeling of the world was shattered.

 Chapter 168 – Floor 15: Part 14

    <u>Chapter 168</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 14


    Her face was melting; her body was rotten and malformed. Emily appeared to be a creature from a nightmare, a figment of the darkest parts of Mathew¡¯s imagination. He couldn¡¯t help but be terrified by what he saw, what she had become.


    Mathew stumbled backwards in terror, and whatever enchantment affected his mind was shattered.


    ¡°What is wrong? Don¡¯t you find me beautiful?¡± The monster asked, its voice slurring as parts of its mouth dropped, the muscles gone slack as the corruption spread. It tried to take a step forward, but its legs collapsed from its weight, and the creature collapsed onto the ground.


    It writhed and twisted, grasping and struggling to get closer to him even as it continued to whisper his name.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t real. You aren¡¯t her.¡± Mathew stated as his sense of clarity returned. With it came an overwhelming feeling of anger, a hatred that this monster would take her face and defile it. His rage was like a fire inside of his chest, waiting to be unleashed and barely constrained.


    ¡°Alter Body - Investiture of Flames!¡± Mathew shouted, and the fire within his chest burst forth, covering his body in a brightly burning blaze. He didn¡¯t summon the Wrathful Blade; he just poured his mana into the magical fire and swept it across the ground toward the creature that had taken Emily¡¯s form.


    It evaporated in the intense heat; its corrupted body couldn¡¯t withstand the flames. It crumbled to ash, and even those were blown away until no trace remained. Not content with just destroying it, Mathew burned the withered trees that ringed the clearing and charred the ground until it was baked hard and dry.


    He let his magic fade when everything within sight had been engulfed in the fire. Mathew stumbled slightly from the exertion. He had used nearly all of his mana during his outburst, leaving him panting and dizzy.


    His newfound clarity came with the realization that he had no idea where he was. Mathew thought he had only travelled a short distance from the camp during his dreamlike state, but when he looked around, he couldn¡¯t see the mountains at all.


    ¡°Where the hell am I?¡± Mathew whispered, confused by how he could have moved so far in such a short time.


    ¡°You¡¯re exactly where you need to be, Champion of the Gods.¡± A voice spoke from the darkness, and Mathew felt the ¡®Buzz¡¯ explode with agony; he fell to his knees. He couldn¡¯t move at all, couldn¡¯t breathe. Whatever had found him was on a scale of power that he couldn¡¯t comprehend, could never hope to face.


    It made Arthur look like a schoolchild playing Knight with a wooden stick. Mathew¡¯s vision was blurry; the world was going in and out of focus, but he could make out a hazy figure emerging from the darkness by the tree line. It was like a human shadow given flesh; it seemed to fade in and out of existence as it moved.


    What shocked him the most was the reaction of the Celestial Spirits. They took one look at this new arrival and fled. Mathew couldn¡¯t feel their eyes on him for the first time in almost a year. He was blessedly alone once more.


    Mathew tried to speak, but his lips quivered, and his tongue refused to form words. The best he could do was a small grunt that could have meant anything, but the figure chuckled, and Mathew could sense that it smiled, although he couldn¡¯t see details through the shadows.


    ¡°Don¡¯t try to move. This will be much easier if you don¡¯t, for both of us. Still, I expected you to be stronger. The illusion crafted from your dreams drew you to this place without any effort at all.¡± It said. Mathew couldn¡¯t tell if it was male or female; it echoed and had a strange pitch to its voice, nearly monotone. The shadowy creature approached him and casually placed a hand on Mathew¡¯s head.


    It felt like the sun itself had touched his skin, like molten metal in the shape of a hand. It burned, and Mathew thought that his entire body was aflame. He screamed in agony as the pain shot down from his head, through his torso and into his limbs.


    It continued but alternated between extreme heat and intense cold. He felt like his entire body was coming apart, his nerves were being frayed, and even his soul shuddered.


    ¡°Now¡­ where is it¡­.the link. Ah! There it is.¡± The voice whispered, and it seemed to come from all around Mathew, rising from the ground and descending from the sky simultaneously. Mathew sensed its focus on the connection he had with the gods of the Tower of Avarice, that ephemeral link that his ¡®Spirit¡¯ attribute improved.


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    Whatever this creature was had directed its attention from Mathew¡¯s body to the silver bangle on his right hand and, through them, reached through to the Tower of Avarice.


    ¡°This might sting. Humans are such brittle creatures.¡± It said, and Mathew felt it pull at the connection.


    It was an unimaginable pain on a level that could not be comprehended. After only the barest hint of it, Mathew blacked out. Unconcerned by Mathew¡¯s state, it continued what it was doing. Only after it completed its task and retracted its hand did Mathew recover.


    Coming awake, Mathew found himself lying on the ground. The mysterious figure was still standing in front of him, but its gaze was no longer on Mathew but on something in the distance. It seemed pleased with itself; the air held a hum of energy that felt¡­positive, somehow.


    ¡°What¡­.what did you do?¡± Mathew asked. The ¡®Buzz¡¯ had faded somewhat, or perhaps when compared to the pain of the creature¡¯s touch, the ¡®Buzz¡¯ was much easier to manage.


    ¡°I have accomplished that which has been denied to me for centuries. Rejoice, Mortal. You are about to witness my Ascendancy to Godhood.¡± The creature said, and there was a flash of light and a thunderous crash. The ground rumbled, and Mathew forced himself to look away from the figure and toward whatever it was staring at.


    There, on the distant horizon, was the Tower of Avarice. It rose into the sky until the gold and purple-coloured clouds obscured its peak. It glowed as brightly as the noonday sun, driving back the darkness, and Mathew winced and shielded his eyes from the brightness.


    The ground, formally black and red with corruption, was returning to its former vitality with the arrival of the Tower of Avarice. Mathew could feel its familiar energies washing over him, replenishing his vitality and removing some of the damage done by the stranger¡¯s touch.


    ¡°Ahh, a welcome worthy of a deity.¡± It whispered, its voice still sounding as if it were descending from the heavens above and shaking the earth around it. Mathew squinted, and he could see a person approaching from the Tower.


    To his shock, Mathew recognized him. It was Arthur, the former King of Anglica and the Apostle of Righteous Subjugation. He seemed grim and on edge, but his face and eyes had an edge of fear. He wore full plate armour that shone brightly in the Tower¡¯s light, while his cloak bore the symbol of his god prominently.


    He stopped a few feet away from Mathew and the stranger. Ignoring Mathew on the ground, Arthur bowed deeply to the shadowy stranger.


    ¡°On behalf of the god of Righteous Subjugation, I bid you welcome to the Tower of Avarice. As per our agreement, your entry will be confirmed by my Lord¡¯s Demesne.¡± Arthur spoke while remaining bowed, and Mathew could tell that Arthur struggled against the stranger''s sheer power. No doubt his ¡®Buzz¡¯ was tormenting him with its warning.


    ¡°As it has been agreed, so shall it be.¡± The figure stated. It pulled out a chunk of clear, Crystallized Aether in the shape of a heart and tossed it casually onto the ground before it faded away, its shadowy figure melting like bight meeting the rising morning sun.


    Once it was gone, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. Turning away from where the mysterious figure had stood, Arthur reached down and picked up the Aether heart.


    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Arthur asked as he examined the Heart.


    ¡°What the hell was that?!¡± Mathew hissed as the pain slowly faded. It took him a moment to climb back to his feet, and only a steadying hand from Arthur''s shoulder prevented him from falling again.


    ¡°That was a god. Well¡­Demigod. It still needs to be confirmed and officially join the Tower. It¡¯ll get a lot stronger after that.¡± Arthur commented before slapping Mathew on the shoulder.


    ¡°Still, congratulations. You met your first Deity! How¡¯d it feel?¡± Arthur asked, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°Painful. Care to explain what that was all about?¡±


    ¡°That, my young friend, was a deal between deities. Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Righteous Subjugation needed a local to lend a hand and another deity to join his Demesne, and that shadowy chap needed an ¡®in¡¯ to the Tower. Win-Win. Here.¡± Arthur said, handing over the crystal Aether Heart to Mathew.


    ¡°That was the Abhorrent Corrupted Ancestral Beast?¡± Mathew asked tiredly. The chunk of Aether felt like it weighed a ton in his hands, and he wearily placed it in his inventory.


    ¡°Yep. Grew quite a bit since my day; it was barely ¡®Repulsive¡¯ and ¡®Tainted¡¯ when I was king.¡± Arthur joked. Seeing that Mathew wasn¡¯t amused, Arthur let out a snort.


    ¡°Oh, lighten up. You got what you were after, and everyone lived happily ever after. Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re upset because you were used¡¯ or something. I thought you would be accustomed to that by now.¡± Arthur scolded.


    ¡°Can you at least tell me why?¡± Mathew pleaded, and Arthur sighed before nodding.


    ¡°Recall how I told you previously that the gods all had their own plans? That they were all fighting over limited resources? None of them wants to see the birth of a new god. Better to nip that in the bud before another hand tries to grab what¡¯s yours.¡± Arthur began to explain.


    ¡°They blocked it from entering the Tower and becoming a god?¡± Mathew guessed, and Arthur nodded.


    ¡°Got it in one. It must have been frustrating since it agreed to Righteous Subjugation¡¯s demands to join his side of the conflict. But it needed a way in; that¡¯s where you came in. It exploited your connection to the Tower and gained entrance.¡± Arthur finished.


    ¡°Why couldn¡¯t you have done that? Why did it need me?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°And have them all know that Righteous Subjugation was looking to recruit? That wouldn¡¯t have gone over well. Alright, Matty my boy, you¡¯re all set. Get your affairs in order and enter the Tower when you¡¯re ready.¡± Arthur said, giving him a small wave before he disappeared with a faint ¡®pop.¡¯

 Chapter 169 – Floor 15: Part 15

    <u>Chapter 169</u> ¨C Floor 15: Part 15


    A geyser of bright, white mana erupted into the air. The five Ancestral Beast Hearts began to melt in the center of the ritual space before combing into a liquid mass that writhed on the ground. It would occasionally take the shape of the Ancestral Beasts that once owned them.


    Alfred knelt beside the congealed bulk of Aether before slowly reaching out his hand and touching it. A power swept through his body like nothing he had ever felt before. He could feel it attacking the traces of illness inside him, destroying it and leaving him stronger.


    Mathew watched with satisfaction; the final part of his task on the 15<sup>th</sup> floor was finally complete. He heaved a sigh of relief as the long-awaited ¡®ding¡¯ of the notification rang out.


    He cautiously risked a glance at the shadows of the now blooming trees that ringed the ritual site and immediately saw the eyes of the Celestials; they had returned shortly after the Tower had arrived. Trying his hardest to ignore them and failing miserably, Mathew looked at the message from the Tower.


    Congratulations!


    Floor 15: The Heart of a Prince (Complete)


    Summary: Alfred, rightful Prince of Anglia, has recovered due to the combined power of Five Ancestral Beast Hearts. He is now free to take his rightful place as Crown Prince of Anglia, bringing a new age of prosperity to the Kingdom.


    Reward: The Gratitude of Righteous Subjugation


    Mathew snorted derisively at the reward summary. He didn¡¯t care about gratitude at all; he just wanted to be free of the gods and their meddling. Righteous Subjugation had used him ever since he had arrived in this world.


    He wanted to be as far away from anything to do with Righteous Subjugation as possible. He was about to lower his wrist and hide the message when it continued.


    Divine Consultation:


    Righteous Subjugation has requested you to be their Apostle. Another party has blocked the request.


    Mischievous Depravity has requested you to be their Apostle. Another party has blocked the request.


    ¡°Good. Maybe they can keep each other so busy that they can leave me alone.¡± Mathew muttered before a new string of messages appeared.


    The gratitude of Righteous Subjugation has earned you a new Discipline: Faultless Magister. New discipline has been withheld from you through the intervention of Mischievous Depravity.


    Mischievous Depravity has offered you a new Discipline: Vile Depraved. New Discipline has been withheld from you through the intervention of Righteous Subjugation.


    The gods are conferring.


    Mathew sighed and lowered his arm. It seemed that the two gods wouldn¡¯t come to a resolution anytime soon. He needed a new Discipline; he couldn¡¯t gain levels without it. He had reached the maximum of Arcane Alterist, meaning he couldn¡¯t heal quickly using a level-up without selecting a new one.


    To be honest, neither of the choices offered by the two gods was appealing, particularly when he recalled that his personality would begin to shift and warp to accommodate his new Discipline. The last thing he wanted was for his mind to be subverted by either of these two gods.


    Righteous Subjugation seemed the better choice until you considered that the bastard had put Mathew into harm¡¯s way multiple times. Mischievous Depravity wasn¡¯t any better; the former Outer God¡¯s influence caused Samuel to become its Apostle, leading to the deaths of countless Players.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t they both just leave me alone? Is it too much to ask for a simple Discipline? Maybe a common ranked one?¡± Mathew muttered as he walked away from Alfred and his healing ritual to find Louis.


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    The Prince of Francia sat on a large rock away from the ritual site; he had his legs folded and his head rested on his hand as he stared at the Tower in the distance. It wasn¡¯t going away; it seemed like it would be a permanent presence in this world.


    They didn¡¯t know if it was located in other sections of their planet or if this was the only entrance, but it was clear to the group that anyone could enter it now. Louis had been deep in thought since he first saw it, and Mathew suspected he knew why.


    ¡°Have you decided to enter?¡± Mathew asked, coming up to his friend and leaning against the large boulder. The Francian sighed and tore his gaze away from the Tower for a moment before his eyes slowly made their way back to the Tower.


    It was an impressive sight, soaring into the clouds with its peak completely obscured. Unlike the modern office structure of Mathew¡¯s world, this Tower was made of grey stones similar to the cathedral he had seen in Londinium.


    The Tower had healed the ground, life had returned to the Eastern Territories, and Mathew suspected that it wouldn¡¯t be long before people settled here again. With the Ancestral Beast of the area gone, he doubted the Demi-Beasts would return in force anytime soon.


    ¡°Qui. Non.¡± Louis sighed and angrily ran his hand through his hair. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do. A part of me longs to adventure, to test myself against the Floors of this Tower as you have done, Mathew. I could not comprehend such a thing when you told me you were not of this world, that you were a traveller beholden to the gods. But now¡­¡± Louis paused.


    ¡°If you are looking to me for advice, I don¡¯t have much to give. The Tower isn¡¯t a fun adventure, Louis. It¡¯s difficult and torturous. I¡¯ve seen so many people die that I can¡¯t count them anymore. But maybe you will do better than me. I wasn¡¯t used to fighting or experiencing hardship before I entered. You, on the other hand, were born into to.¡± Mathew confessed, and Louis looked away from the Tower once more to stare at his friend.


    ¡°You will be going soon?¡± Louis asked, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°In a few minutes. There¡¯s nothing left for me to do here. Alfred¡¯s taken care of, and I have someone I need to find who may need my help.¡± Mathew said. Louis leapt off the boulder, and when Mathew tried to shake his hand, the Prince of Francian hugged him instead.


    ¡°I hope you find her, my friend.¡± Louis said as he stepped back and clapped Mathew on the shoulder.


    ¡°Go back to Francia, Louis. Talk to your parents, and visit your people. The Tower will still be here, waiting for you. Remember, even if you are a grey-haired old man who has one foot into the grave, the Tower can still help you achieve your wish.¡± Mathew said.


    ¡°If I wait too long, we will not see each other again,¡± Louis said sadly, shaking his head. Mathew laughed.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that. I¡¯ve told you that time works differently in the Tower. You could live an entire life out here, with fifty years of adventures and stories to share, and I could meet you again on the next floor. Strange things happen here.¡± Mathew paused and frowned as his silver wristband vibrated and warmed against his skin.


    ¡°As much as I hate to say it, the fate of everyone who enters the Tower is in the hands of the gods.¡± Mathew finished.


    ¡°And the gods are Batards.¡± Louis finished in French.


    ¡°Indeed they are.¡± Mathew said as he raised his wristband to see what new message awaited him.


    Divine Consultation:


    The god of Righteous Subjugation and the god of Mischievous Depravity have both been blocked from offering their Disciplines through the intervention of a third party, the god of Sanctuary Retort.


    The god of Sanctuary Retort has taken an interest in you and would like to offer you discipline.


    The offer of a Discipline has been blocked. You will not be offered a Discipline at this time.


    Mathew immediately closed the messages.


    ¡°They really are bastards!¡± Mathew hissed out in anger. He didn¡¯t know anything about this new god, although he recalled that Albrecht, the King of Anglia, was an adherent of Sanctuary Retort. He just wanted to be clear of all of them, yet he was caught in the middle of a struggle that saw him blocked from gaining a new Discipline!


    No levels meant no healing or growing more powerful through his attributes.


    ¡°Everything alright?¡± Alfred asked as he approached the pair, along with Daphne and Enalious. They had spent over a year travelling together, and even Mathew could see that the young man and women were close.


    Alfred looked healthy; his pale skin was tanned from the sun, and his body was no longer sickly and weak. He had an aura of power about him from his magic training, and Mathew had no doubt that he would be able to conquer Excalibur when he eventually returned to Anglia.


    ¡°No, but it never is.¡± Mathew replied with a shrug of his shoulder. He turned away from Louis and studied the small group for a moment.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­not good with goodbyes.¡± Mathew stated, and Daphne snorted.


    ¡°Or people.¡± She said.


    ¡°Or emotions.¡± Alfred added.


    ¡°Right. Look¡­take care of yourselves and if you are ever feeling foolish and reckless, maybe I¡¯ll see you in the Tower someday.¡± Mathew replied. Alfred tried to thank him, to hold him back a moment to talk about how much Mathew had changed his life, but he waved him away.


    Mathew was soon walking toward the Tower; the stone structure rapidly grew as he approached. A white light enveloped him, and he was gone. It was finally time to see what the next Floor had in store for him.

 Chapter 170 – Floor 16: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 170</u> ¨C Floor 16: Part 1


    Despite not receiving a new Discipline, Mathew still accumulated a large sum of Aether from his adventures on the 15<sup>th</sup> Floor. While he couldn¡¯t level up, and there weren¡¯t many items in the shop to purchase, a few Blessings left in his ¡®Arcane Alterist¡¯ Discipline could be helpful.


    He needed a long-range attack, but his ¡®Breath of Dragons¡¯ didn¡¯t reach far enough, and ¡®Earthbind¡¯ only stopped his enemies from moving. After entering the Tower and returning to the long absent elevator that would take him to the next Floor, Mathew spent some time browsing the Shop Blessings before making his selection.


    Blessing: Disintegrate


    Summary: Through the overwhelming force of your will and Mana, you destroy a single object or foe, leaving nothing but dust behind. This is the ultimate incarnation of Alteration. If a thing can be created, it can be destroyed.


    Note: The effect of ¡®Disintegrate¡¯ is dependent on the Attributes and Level of the user. Success is not guaranteed. Failure will result in severe backlash to the user.


    Mathew bought it with his remaining Aether and a few more healing and stamina potions to replenish his supply. When he arrived on the new floor, he needed to test it before using it in combat.


    Leaning back against the metallic wall of the elevator, he was about to close his eyes and rest when he felt his momentum slow. The elevator was about to reach its destination.


    The doors opened into the middle of a street in a bustling, modern-day city. There were people everywhere, standing around and staring at the sudden appearance of a pillar of light and the arrival of a strangely dressed man in black and silver armour.


    Mathew stepped out of the elevator, and the doors closed behind him. It disappeared into motes of light, leaving him alone in the middle of the street. The area he was standing in had been cordoned off with yellow police tape, and a number of vehicles blocked the entrance, and their lights flashed red and blue.


    His first thought was that he was home, but he didn¡¯t recognize his surroundings. The buildings were tall enough that they towered over him, and the people wore clothing that wouldn¡¯t stand out in his New York. They were bundled up in jackets and wore hats against the cold, and Mathew saw that the sidewalks had snow piled up on them.


    Mathew barely felt a chill; his Aether-enhanced ¡®Body¡¯ Attribute had given him enough endurance and resistance that he could ward off even the harshest winter weather.


    As he was looking around, a police officer approached him, along with a woman wearing a suit, a black winter¡¯s coat and a badge around her neck that read ¡®Homeland Defense and Containment.¡¯


    ¡°Good Morning, I¡¯m Agent Barlow with the HDC. We¡¯re appreciative of the prompt response. The item is just over there; we¡¯ve had to section off and clear the entire block.¡± The woman said while holding out her hand to shake Mathews.


    ¡°I apologize, but I have no idea what you are talking about.¡± Mathew replied in confusion as he released Agent Barrlow¡¯s hand and looked around at the crowd and the city block she had referred to.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t been briefed yet? I suggest you read the message your device has waiting for you.¡± Barlow replied as she pointed at the thick, silver wristband on Mathew¡¯s right arm.


    It had been trying to notify him, but Mathew had been so shocked by his return to a modern-day city that he hadn¡¯t had the opportunity to read it yet. He raised his right arm and read the burning letters that immediately appeared.


    Floor 16: A Hallowed Splinter


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Summary: In every universe, beings of unimaginable power exist that do not possess the Divinity of the Gods. When these existences perish, their powerful souls are unable to pass on to the afterlife in their entirety. These mighty souls fragment, and some pieces disperse across the multiverse until they latch onto an object or person.


    These become known as a ¡®Hallowed Splinter.¡¯ There is such an object in this city. Find it and contain its power before the entire world is destroyed.


    Reward: Blessing: Mind Fortification (Constant Effect)


    Mind Fortification: Grants resistance to the wielder against psychological and Mental attacks and limited resistance against Illusions. Ineffective against attacks or illusions well above the user''s Level.


    ¡®I need that Blessing.¡¯ Mathew thought to himself, his memories turning to how easy it had been for the Abhorrent Corrupted Ancestral Beast to lure him out of their campsite and into the wilderness.


    Lowering his arm and obscuring the burning letters of the message once more, Mathew turned his attention to Agent Barlow, who had been patiently waiting for several minutes for Mathew to read the notification and process its information.


    ¡°What kind of item is it?¡± Mathew asked.


    Barlow gestured for him to follow her as she spoke. An officer lifted the police tape for the pair, and they were soon walking through an alleyway between a red-brick apartment building and a grey-stone parking garage.


    ¡°We¡¯re not sure. There was a kid¡¯s birthday party in the community center when everything started shaking. We have some sensors at the HDC to pick up supernatural objects or creatures, and they have started going haywire. That¡¯s when we asked for someone from your group to come pick it up.¡± Barlow explained as they walked.


    ¡°You¡¯ve met people like me before?¡± Mathew asked in surprise. Although, when he thought about it, it made sense. Barlow wasn¡¯t surprised by his sudden appearance from a pillar of light or his wearing armour in the middle of the street.


    ¡°People from the Tower? Yeah, whenever something pops up that we can¡¯t handle on our own. The HDC has been around for decades, and we have a lot of resources, but you guys are something else.¡± Barlow explained.


    ¡°You mentioned the HDC before; what is it?¡± Mathew inquired. They had left the alley and were walking down an empty back road, aside from a few green garbage bins and some parked cars. There was an energy in the air, a faint smell of Aether and a hint of mana.


    The ¡®Buzz¡¯ began to give him a warning, and Mathew slowed down his steps until he could get all the information he needed for this Floor.


    ¡°Homeland Defense and Containment. We were formed to take care of this sort of thing, or at least contain and study them.¡± Barlow replied, tapping her gold badge that hung from her neck with her fingertip. Her long brown hair was tied up in a bun, and Mathew couldn¡¯t see many of her features as her large sunglasses obscured her face. She looked like the typical G-Man.


    ¡°And you have the means to hold this object? It won¡¯t be a danger to you?¡± Mathew queried.


    ¡°I can¡¯t promise anything, but if you are here, that means the people you work for are confident that once you are finished, it will be fine.¡± Barlow responded.


    ¡°The people I work for¡­right.¡± Mathew muttered. He couldn¡¯t argue with the fact that he was working for the gods. Did she know that, or did she just assume that the Tower was some kind of mystical force or place?


    ¡°I can¡¯t go any further than this. The disturbance gets worse the closer you get to the community center. Just keep following this road, the building in on your right. Don¡¯t worry about any bystanders; we¡¯ve cleared everyone back for a mile on every side.¡± Barlow stopped walking and pointed in the direction of the community center before beginning to walk back in the direction they came from.


    Letting out a breath of air, Mathew started his preparations. Before pulling out the Wrathful Blade, he placed a few healing and stamina potions on his belt, within easy reach in case he needed them. Letting the weight of the massive sword rest on his shoulder, he began to use his Blessings.


    ¡°Alter Self ¨C Iron Bones.¡±


    ¡°Alter Self- Augmented Strength.¡±


    ¡°Alter Self ¨C Thick Skin.¡±


    ¡°Righteous Aura of Subjugation.¡±


    By the time he was finished, nearly half his overall mana was drained, but his physical abilities had doubled. He was sure that, if he wanted to, he could demolish any of the surrounding buildings in only a few blows.


    But the ¡®Buzz¡¯ didn¡¯t fade, even after the light of the Aura wrapped around him in a protective cocoon. Just what was this ¡®Hallowed Splinter?¡¯


    Hefting the sword again, Mathew began walking down the deserted backroad. The sound of his boots hitting the pavement was the only thing that broke the silence. There weren¡¯t even any birds overhead or sirens in the distance.


    It was eerie, especially when it was clear that this was a heavily populated part of the city.


    ¡°She didn¡¯t even ask for my name.¡± Mathew muttered to himself. After a few months wandering through the wilderness on the previous Floor, he had hoped to have a little downtime. Maybe have an actual shower with hot water. The cleaning tabs from the shop did their job, but it wasn¡¯t the same.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡± Mathew grumbled as he rounded the corner and found the Community Center.

 Chapter 171 – Floor 16: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 171</u> ¨C Floor 16: Part 2


    Happy Birthday Michael!


    Mathew read the words on a large, white banner pinned above the Community Center''s double doors. The building was a single-story structure with a yellow stucco exterior. The parking lot attached to it still had dozens of cars, and Mathew could see a playground and small park on the far side.


    There wasn¡¯t a soul in sight, and the silence became more profound the closer he came to the building. It didn¡¯t seem right that no one was around; that alone would have warned him of danger even without the ¡®Buzz¡¯ constantly sending shivers down his spine.


    On the edge of the parking lot with the open doors of the Community Center in sight, Mathew readjusted the heavy sword on his shoulder and began the short trek across the asphalt. His foot had barely crossed over from the sidewalk to the parking lot when a wave of foreign energy swept over him.


    It felt like a gust of wind combined with a nearly physical presence that pushed him backward a few inches; Mathew¡¯s boots skidded across the asphalt until he could shrug off the shockwave''s force.


    ¡°Is that the object¡¯s doing?!¡± Mathew cursed.


    The eyes of the Celestial Spirits, still visible in the shadows, grew more agitated, and Mathew thought he could hear faint whispers from them. Whatever was causing this disturbance, the spirits were concerned about them.


    Starting to walk forward again, Mathew only made it a few steps before the foreign energy pulsed again, sending out another shockwave from the direction of the Community Center. Even though he was more prepared for it by setting his stance and digging his heels in, the pulse pushed him back a step.


    Once it passed, Mathew dashed forward with determination. He needed to close the distance quickly.


    Halfway across the parking lot, the energy swept across him again with enough power that Mathew fell on one knee and braced himself. He could hear car tires squealing as the parked cars were pushed sideways.


    Even on one knee, he was shoved into the side of a pickup truck with enough force to leave a dent in the door and crack the windshield. Once again, Mathew climbed to his feet and ran across the ground toward the open doors of the community center.


    He nearly made it when another energy force erupted from the building, blasting the structure''s windows outwards and hurling shards of glass in all directions. Mathew could maintain his footing this time, and he was lifted off the ground and tossed backwards like he weighed nothing.


    Flying through the air, Mathew gripped the Wrathful Blade in both hands and drove its broad and flat end into the pavement. With a wrench, he came to a halt as the glass cut his face and neck, leaving minor scratches. His Blessings made him as durable as the metal cars behind him, and the shards of glass couldn¡¯t cut deeply.


    When the shockwave ended, Mathew landed on his feet and dug his sword out of the ground. Nothing would stop him from reaching the ¡®Hallowed Splinter¡¯ this time. Flinging himself forward, Mathew burst through the doors hanging off their hinges.


    Whatever power the object was emitting ceased as soon as Mathew crossed the doorway''s threshold. The interior was in shambles; chairs and tables were tossed around the large hall in every direction. Some birthday decorations remained, and several balloons hung from the ceiling, but most of them were shredded by glass and splinters of furniture.


    Mathew¡¯s boots made a crunching sound as he slowly walked into the room, looking around for any dangers. Nothing was moving, aside from a few sliced and tattered curtains that blew slightly in the wind that blew through the windowless frames.


    Keeping his sword ready, Mathew made a small loop of the room. Carefully walking over bits of glass, shattered chairs and pieces of folding tables, he found what was left of the birthday cake smeared all over the floor and halfway up the wall. Two candles in the remains hadn¡¯t been lit yet, a ¡®1¡¯ and ¡®2¡¯.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Mathew could feel the ¡®Buzz¡¯ growing stronger as he walked, that supernatural sixth sense that warned of imminent danger. It was getting more intense the further into the room he walked, and it was nearly blindingly painful when he reached the far end of the Community Center.


    Mathew found the object he was looking for beneath a pile of discarded chairs and half a table. The ¡®Hallowed Splinter¡¯ was a paper crown. It was made of yellow construction paper, folded into a crown and covered in sparkling glitter.


    ¡®The Birthday Boy!¡¯ was written in glittery silver marker on the front.


    Surprisingly, it was in perfect condition despite having a pile of debris on top of it. It was also immaculate even though it rested on the dirty ground. Mathew was about to pick it up when the ¡®Buzz¡¯ gave him a jolt of pain severe enough to make his fingers twitch.


    Withdrawing his hand, Mathew swore he could hear a sigh of regret coming from the object as if it were upset that something it had been looking forward to was now out of reach.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    Mathew was surprised at the sound of the notification and looked at the silver wristband for more information.


    Floor 16: A Hallowed Splinter (Updated)


    Updated Summary: Congratulations, you have found the Hallowed Splinter! The Soulshard of a Demigod that failed to Ascend to Godhood is located inside the Paper Crown. You have two options:


    <ol>


    <li> Don the Paper Crown to contain its power until you reach the HDC facility designed to hold it. You will need to suffer the side effects. Beware, the lingering spirit within the Soulshard has taken an interest in you and the Celestials in the shadows. </li>


    <li> Pass the Paper Crown to an unwitting pawn, damning them to the torments of the Soulshard while you forcefully guide them to the HDC facility. This will inevitably lead to the death of the bearer. </li>


    </ol>


    The god of Righteous Subjugation is observing you.


    The god of Mischievous Depravity is watching you with anticipation.


    The god of Stalwart Wayfarer is disinterested in this Floor.


    The god of Sanctuary Retort is concerned by the choice presented.


    The god of Perfect Subterfuge is laughing at the situation.


    The god of Unprovoked Murder is urging you to select a pawn and have them don the Paper Crown, then kill them.


    The god of Broken Secrets is displeased that any aspect of the Demigod¡¯s identity was revealed.


    The god of Petty Trickery looks forward to you deceiving a pawn with the Paper Crown.


    Many gods await your decision. The reactions of 132 gods have been hidden at this time.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you all have something better to do.¡± Mathew grumbled as he lowered his arm to hide the message and focused on the Crown once again.


    ¡°Who are you talking to?¡± A voice rang out, and Mathew looked up to find Agent Barlow walking into the community center. She had removed her sunglasses, revealing a pair of brown eyes looking disinterestedly at the mess around them before latching onto Mathew.


    ¡°What are you doing here? I thought you were waiting for me to contain this thing.¡± Mathew replied, and Barlow¡¯s face changed to show confusion.


    ¡°You called out to me asking for help.¡± She responded, and Mathew looked down at the Paper Crown again.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t me.¡± Mathew muttered softly. It looks like the Paper Crown wanted him to place it on Barlow instead of himself; it had likely been the one who contacted Barlow. He doubted any of the gods would have directly intervened.


    ¡°That it? Do you have it contained?¡± Barlow asked as she approached Mathew. She was studying the Crown curiously but without a hint of wariness. Was that the Paper Crown¡¯s influence as well?


    ¡°Not yet.¡± Mathew said, before reaching down and picking it up. It was heavier than he expected a crown made of paper to be. It was also big enough to fit onto his head, despite if obviously being made for a child.


    Place it on her head. A voice whispered quietly, bare audible even in the quiet room. Mathew felt a foreign power sweep up from the crown, urging him to place it on the HDC Agent¡¯s head. His fingers twitched slightly, and he almost did as it commanded.


    ¡°No.¡± Mathew said, forcing the alien thoughts away. He had been in the Tower too long, had been through too much, to be controlled so easily.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Agent Barlow asked, but Mathew was too focused on the object in his hands to respond. Without thinking, he quickly placed the Paper Crown on his head with the words ¡®The Birthday Boy!¡¯ above his forehead.


    A surge of power burst out of Mathew and rushed skyward. The ground shook, and Agent Barlow was pushed backwards by the force of the eruption. The cloudy sky above them darkened until it was nearly the pitch-black darkness of night.


    Mathew screamed as he was engulfed in black flames. They covered his body, obscuring him from the sight of Agent Barlow, who was lying on the ground, pressed flat by the power of the Paper Crown. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she couldn¡¯t see Mathew through the black flames that shifted to red, then white.


    When they faded, Mathew was gone, and a monster was in his place. Towering over


    Agent Barlow and wearing long faded black robes; its body was skeletal and shrouded in shadows except for two rightly glowing yellow eyes. On its head was an ancient crown of gold and jewels.


    There was an air of menace and evil about it, and Agent Barlow couldn¡¯t move from fear as its eyes focused on hers. When it spoke, its voice seemed to come from all directions, echoing and doubling eerily.


    ¡°Get that containment facility ready, Agent Barlow.¡±

 Chapter 172 – Floor 16: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 172</u> ¨C Floor 16: Part 3


    Mathew lived in a land of shadows.


    The world around him was shrouded in darkness; the few lights seemed dim. The weight of the Crown on his head was far heavier than the Wrathful Blade had ever been. It weighed on him mentally and spiritually rather than physically.


    Looking down at his body, he was shocked to discover the changes. He was taller than before, having become at least eight feet tall with a skeletally thin body whose skin clung to his frame tightly. Pale white, he could see the veins through his flesh like black webs. He wore a robe that felt like a cloud; it weighed nothing, and the wind rippled through it easily.


    Mathew found the Celestials in the darkness, watching him curiously. They were no longer disembodied eyes but rather fully fleshed spirits with bodies. They were tall and long-limbed, pale white and bald. Their faces lacked any distinguishing features, no nose or mouth, just large eyes that were all a single colour without pupils or irises.


    They were whispering to each other in a language he didn¡¯t understand, but the world vibrated around him in response to their voices.


    ¡°Silence.¡± A strange voice hissed out beside Mathew, and the Celestials immediately ceased their discussions. They shied back in fear of the voice, and Mathew turned to look at who was speaking.


    It was a creature made of darkness, a formless void that emitted malevolence. Mathew had never encountered such a being before and knew it was more powerful than anything he had ever faced. But, strangely, the ¡®Buzz¡¯ didn¡¯t react to its presence at all. It was like the creature couldn¡¯t access most of its strength; it was only a shard of a more incredible being.


    The creature formed a hand from the shadows and pointed at the fallen Agent Barlow who was staring up at them with surprise and terror.


    ¡°Death.¡± It spoke, and the darkness that Mathew was in trembled. He felt a wave of energy erupt from the creature, but it dispersed almost immediately. Instead, the crown on Mathew¡¯s head absorbed the energy, and he could feel it sweep through his body.


    If the creature possessed a face, Mathew knew it would be frowning. It paused for a moment as if in confusion before pointing at Agent Barlow again.


    ¡°Decay.¡± Again, the wave of energy swept out only to disperse and be absorbed by the crown on Mathew¡¯s head. The foreign mana inside his body contained it, and he could feel it swirling deep within him.


    ¡°Impossible! What has been done to me!¡± The creature shrieked, and the darkness that formed its body roiled. The Celestials, content up to this point to just observe, fled immediately.


    ¡°Get that containment facility ready, Agent Barlow.¡± Mathew ordered as the creature next to him ranted and raged. It tried half a dozen times to kill the agent, destroy the building around them, and use a number of other commands and spells that Mathew didn¡¯t know the purpose of, but they couldn¡¯t be anything good.


    ¡°It¡­it¡¯s ready now, we just need to travel there. Do you have it contained?¡± Agent Barlow asked as she slowly climbed to her feet.


    ¡°I believe so. But hurry, I don¡¯t know how long we have.¡± Mathew said as he turned his attention to the crown and the creature attached to it. There was a link between them. The crown and his body were fused in some way, connected similarly to the method the Tower was linked to him.


    But, like a thread or rope, some ethereal and fragile binding wrapped around the creature next to him and his own body. Each time the creature tried to use its abilities, the thread would vibrate, and the crown would react.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring the car around.¡± Agent Barlow stated as she hurriedly left the Community Center. Mathew ignored her as he continued to reflect on what had happened to him.


    Despite the changes to his body, he didn¡¯t feel different. But it was obvious that something serious had happened to him. While he was thinking, the creature¡¯s rage slowly subsided, and it began to float around Mathew and assess its surroundings.


    ¡°What has happened to me!? I am Nadar the Immortal! I have witnessed the birth and death of galaxies! What has been done?¡± Nadar, the shadow creature, hovered around Mathew, and it finally seemed as if it had discovered him. It turned its attention to Mathew, and its large, yellow eyes narrowed.


    ¡°You! You have done this to me!¡± It shrieked, and its rage threatened to destroy the world around them. The darkness grew, and, once again, the ground trembled as it emitted enough mana that Mathew could feel it like a physical slap to the face.


    But again, the crown instantly dissipated and absorbed it through the link between them.


    ¡°I will not be made a prisoner.¡± It threatened, and Mathew scoffed, finally acknowledging its presence.


    ¡°Too late.¡± Mathew taunted as he turned and began walking toward the Community Center''s shattered doors. His body felt lighter than ever, and his feet barely touched the ground. Nadar followed him closely; the link between them meant it was unable to distance itself.


    ¡°You are an inadequate jailer, wretch, despite assuming my appearance. I am Nadar the Immortal!¡± It screamed.


    ¡°Not so immortal, Nadar. You¡¯re already dead and gone. Nothing but a shard of your soul remains.¡± Mathew corrected it, and the shadow paused.


    ¡°Impossible¡­.Impossible! You lie!¡± Nadar shouted, and it formed two hands from its formless shadow body. The two hands shot out and gripped Mathew¡¯s head. He could feel tendrils of its consciousness attempting to reach into his mind and rip control of the crown from Mathew¡¯s grasp.


    ¡°No!¡± Mathew growled. Gripping the shadowy hands on both sides of his head, Mathew tried to pull them away while simultaneously throwing his mana against the creature. The conflict within Mathew for control of the Crown sent waves of mana surging outwards, and the building shook around them.


    Mathew was losing. The shadow creature, Nadar, was too powerful. Mathew¡¯s consciousness was drowning under the relentless tide of dark mana that was engulfing him. He needed something more, something to give him an edge against it.


    ¡°Righteous Aura of Subjugation!¡± Mathew hissed out through his clenched teeth as he struggled to push Nadar away. Instead of the flow of mana and the familiar light surrounding him, nothing happened.


    ¡°Alter Body ¨C Enhanced Strength!¡± Mathew shouted, but again, nothing happened. One after another, he found that all of his Blessings were blocked or unresponsive.


    ¡°Give me back my body!¡± Nadar shrieked, and it threw more of its mana against Mathew. The power was too much for the Community Center to contain, and one of the walls was blasted outwards, and a large section of the roof collapsed.


    Mathew looked around for something to use to help him in the struggle. But he didn¡¯t have access to his inventory, and none of his Blessings worked in this situation. As he frantically looked around, he spotted the Celestials.


    They were standing far away from the pair, watching their struggle with interest. Their fear of Nadar had obviously faded or been overridden by their curiosity. Then, Mathew recalled that he had another Blessing that he hadn¡¯t tried but had been wary of using.


    Mathew didn¡¯t care about the consequences much at this point; he was about to be consumed by the formless shadow creature.


    ¡°Word of Power: Burn!¡± Mathew said, his voice echoing strangely. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, and an oppressive power pressed down on Nadar from all around it. The Celestials began to glow as if they were drawing energy from the experience.


    Nadar shrieked as its body was covered in bright, white flames. They consumed the darkness that formed its body, burning everything that remained of its power and soul. It released Mathew and tried to flee, but the connection between it and the crown prevented it from going far.


    The flames soon died after a moment, and the use of the Word of Power and the sudden assault from Nadar left Mathew exhausted and drained of mana.


    ¡°Insolent worm!¡± Nadar screeched as the flames faded. Mathew felt a sharp yank on the link between them. Control of his body and the Crown was snatched from him at that moment, and Mathew watched in horror as the darkness that formed Nadar¡¯s body enveloped him.


    ¡°No one will save you now.¡± Nadar said, his voice ringing out through Mathew¡¯s mind. He felt his body smile, and Mathew was forced to walk forward under Nadar¡¯s control. Soon, they were travelling through the hole in the ceiling of the Community Center.


    He was flying. The darkness carried him through the air, and Mathew stood in the sky above the City in just a few moments. The dark clouds overhead blocked the sun, and he could see the lights from cars and streetlamps shining brightly far below.


    ¡°Insignificant. Offensive. Disgusting.¡± Mathew¡¯s body said, Nadar speaking through him. His arm was raised, and Nadar used Mathew¡¯s body to point his finger at the town far below them.


    ¡°Be removed from my sight. ANNILATION!¡±

 Chapter 173 – Floor 16: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 173</u> ¨C Floor 16: Part 4


    Half the city disappeared from Mathew¡¯s sight as a wave of destructive mana swept out from his pointed finger toward the lights below. There weren¡¯t any huge explosions; flames didn¡¯t rise to reach the clouds and drive back the darkness.


    A large portion of the city just¡­ceased to be. Darkness swept over it like a devouring shadow that left nothing but barren land behind. People, buildings, streets, it didn¡¯t matter what it was. Annihilation treated everything in a similar manner.


    Blessedly, there were no screams of terror, pain or despair. Most likely, they never knew anything was happening before they died. Tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of people, were just gone.


    While Mathew felt an overwhelming sense of sadness and guilt over not being able to protect the defenceless people below, he could feel that Nadar was irritated by the results. Using Mathew¡¯s body, it let out a grunt of dissatisfaction as it studied the landscape below.


    ¡°Tch. Useless. That spell should have eliminated this entire planet. You are to blame for this.¡± Nadar said to Mathew.


    Mathew¡¯s despair and guilt instantly turned to rage at the words as Nadar used Mathew¡¯s body to prepare for another attack.


    ¡°No matter, one spell or a hundred, the result is the same in the end. After these insects are wiped from existence, I will use this planet to recover my strength and attempt to reach Divinity once more. I will not be denied!¡± Nadar shouted as the energy it was gathering reached a crescendo.


    ¡°No!¡± Mathew tried to shout, but all of his efforts merely resulted in a slight quiver in his body¡¯s lips. Nadar was gathering an incredible amount of mana on a similar level to the spell he had just used. If Mathew didn¡¯t stop this, the rest of the city would be wiped out!


    ¡°Annihilation!¡± Nadar shouted once again, using Mathew¡¯s mouth. The spell was on the cusp of release, and Mathew, desperate to save the city, was willing to use whatever methods he could to do so. His mind latched onto the only way he could think of.


    ¡°Word of Power: Burn!¡± Mathew commanded, and reality obeyed. White flames emerged from nothing to burn the shadowy form of Nadar that had latched onto Mathew¡¯s body. The spell was disrupted, but the mana had too much power to dissipate harmlessly.


    In the sky above the city, an explosion erupted with enough force that the heavy, dark clouds were driven away to reveal the sun once again. The ground shook, the winds howled, and Mathew screamed as agony ripped through his body.


    He was in control once again, but it came at a terrible price. His flesh was sliced and torn; his armour was in tatters. Sections of bone protruded from his skin, and blood sprayed to land on the ground far below.


    Whatever spell or ability Nadar had used to keep Mathew¡¯s body buoyant in the sky faded, and Mathew plummeted toward the ground. He hit a pile of lifeless earth that was all that remained after Nadar¡¯s attack and began to roll down a small hill. Each movement sent pain lancing through his already battered body.


    The changes that came from wearing the crown had caused changes in his flesh and bones, but whatever kind of monster he had turned into wasn¡¯t immune to hurt and injury. When he finally stopped rolling, Mathew lay still and wondered how he was still alive.


    He could only attribute his continued survival to the crown on his head. Even now, the connection between his body, the crown and Nadar was as strong as ever and foreign mana that had been absorbed earlier worked to heal his beaten flesh.


    ¡®Lageness Trated Zatize Iddizend.¡¯ Voices whispered all around him, chanting in a language he couldn¡¯t understand. They echoed and overlapped, fading in and out of existence eerily, repeating endlessly.


    Mathew could see the Celestials out of the corner of his eye. No longer contained within the darkness, their strange, white, elongated bodies floated around him, fading in and out of existence, but their eyes never left him.


    He could feel their hands touching him, caressing his back and shoulders as he sat upright. They whispered in his ears, smelled his scent and tasted the mana that lingered about him. They were no longer curious about him; they knew everything they wanted about him.


    No, now they wanted something else from him. He just didn¡¯t know what.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Lageness Must Zatize Us.¡¯ The voices began slightly clearer, and Mathew dreaded the moment when he could understand them fully.


    ¡°Pest! Nuisance! You are insignificant! Learn your place, insect!¡± Nadar screamed in madness and anger as its shadowy body descended from the sky. The Celestials around Mathew retreated slightly from the creature, but they were on the periphery, waiting for their chance to torment him again.


    Nadar flew toward him again with its arms outstretched, but Mathew was ready and willing to pay the price of using the Words of Power.


    ¡°Word of Power: Burn!¡± Mathew screamed as he flung his hand forward to direct the attack. But this time, the Soulshard of Nadar the Immortal was ready.


    ¡°Word of Power: Sanctuary!¡± Nadar responded, and a barrier sprang into existence around its black, formless shadow body. Mathew was stunned by the Nadar¡¯s actions. He didn¡¯t think it would possess a Word of Power of its own.


    The Celestials, who had been focused only on Mathew at this point, whipped their heads around and stared at Nadar with a ravenous hunger. If it weren¡¯t for the barrier protecting it, Mathew was sure the Celestials would be swarming around Nadar.


    The creature ignored the Celestials and began to laugh and mock Mathew as it swirled around within its sphere of sanctuary.


    ¡°Give up, pest and allow me to possess your body! Knowledge of a single Word of Power is praiseworthy, even if those who would deny me a place amongst them granted that knowledge to you. Think of what you can accomplish by joining me!¡± Nadar offered.


    Seeing that Mathew was still unwilling, Nadar continued.


    ¡°It matters not. I will snuff out your pitiful soul and take your body as my own. Burn is a minor Word, just an annoyance that lacks the ability to truly harm me. I, however, possess many of the minor Words and several of the Major. Sanctuary cannot be bypassed by any means you may have, especially not by Burn.¡± Nadar taunted.


    It was waiting to recover some of its energy. Despite its taunting, the minor Word of Power had harmed it enough that it was wary of Mathew. It did in fact, know several Words, but none of them were particularly useful in combat, and their use came with side effects so extreme that it was wary of the consequences.


    It wanted to regain some of its mana, use a more powerful spell to bind Mathew, and quickly possess his body.


    Not trusting Nadar''s words, Mathew raised his hand and gestured at the floating void behind its barrier.


    ¡°Word of Power: Burn!¡± Flames erupted around the barrier, covering it like burning oil but failing to penetrate it. The eyes of the Celestials flicked back to Mathew, and the whispers grew in volume. He swore he could understand what they were saying if only Nadar would stop speaking for a moment.


    Mathew stopped that thought before it could turn dangerous.


    Nadar continued to taunt Mathew, but he ignored the creature.


    ¡®If I can¡¯t destroy the barrier or Nadar, then what am I supposed to do?¡¯ Mathew thought. He reached up to run a hand through his hair when his fingers touched the crown on his head. The metal felt cool and hard against his fingertips, and Mathew started slightly as he had a realization.


    ¡°I told you, Insect, Burn is useless!¡± Nadar mocked as Mathew raised his hand again.


    ¡°Who said I was going to use burn again or that I only know a single word?¡± Mathew replied. Gripping the crown so tightly that its edges dug into his palm, Mathew screamed out the Word of Power with all of his remaining strength.


    ¡°Word of Power: Break!¡± Power rushed into the crown, and it felt like Mathew was tearing away a part of his soul. The world shuddered around him, darkness turned to light, the earth and sky switched positions, and Mathew felt like he was falling and flying simultaneously.


    The Celestial''s whispers turned to shrieks; their voices added to his own and became a chorus that shook reality. Their hands were on him, clawing at his own hands and the crown that he gripped. Their eyes stared into his own, and he wasn¡¯t sure if they were trying to help or hinder him.


    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Nadar screamed as the link between the creature and the crown was being hacked away, severed as if by a saw slowly cutting its way through it.


    It could feel it in its soul, and when the link was gone, it knew it would be drawn to an unknown place that it had tried its hardest to avoid.


    Mathew threw all of his willpower into destroying the Crown while the spirits of the Celestials hovered all around him, obscuring his sight.


    There was a deafening explosion, and a pillar of light shot toward the sky before the darkness returned and silence descended once again.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Agent Barlow slid down the side of the crater toward the lone figure kneeling at the explosion''s epicentre that had occurred only a few minutes before. She had been lucky; her car had been parked just on the edge of whatever had destroyed half the city.


    She had seen the struggle between the stranger and some dark shadow in the sky above her. She had thought to help, possibly taking a shot at it, when multiple detonations in the sky and on the ground had sent her scurrying for shelter.


    Arriving at the bottom, she saw that the young man from earlier had regained his original form. He looked in rough shape; his odd armour was torn and tattered, and his body was covered in dirt and blood.


    Lying in front of him was a few pieces of ripped-up yellow paper. Barlow could make out ¡®Happy Bir,¡¯ but the rest was missing. It looked like portions of it had been burned.


    The young man looked up at her, and she saw a face filled with pain and sadness. She was about to speak, to ask him what had happened when a white light appeared behind him. Barlow could make out a set of open doors that looked to belong to an elevator, of all things.


    She didn¡¯t even question its appearance at this point after the things she had witnessed.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry.¡± The young man said as he climbed to his feet and walked toward the white light. In moments, he was gone, leaving nothing behind but the remnants of a paper crown that were soon blowing away on the breeze.

 Chapter 174 – Floor 17: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 174</u> ¨C Floor 17: Part 1


    Floor 16: A Hallowed Splinter (Failed)


    Summary: You have failed to contain the Hallowed Splinter. The Soulshard of Nadar the Immortal has been destroyed and not contained as ordered. The gods had commanded you to bring the Soulshard to the HDC facility, but you did not adhere to that directive.


    Reward: None.


    You will be sent to a Punishment Floor.


    Mathew leaned against the wall of the elevator and closed the notification. He was emotionally numb and exhausted. His wounds were healing quickly; the potions he had consumed were working their magic on his shattered body.


    His armour was ruined, but he couldn¡¯t find the energy to strip it off and find a replacement in the shop. Instead, he just sat there as his thoughts kept returning to his failures.


    Mathew could see the destruction he had caused whenever he closed his eyes. It didn¡¯t matter that he hadn¡¯t been in control of his body; he still felt responsible. He knew that the spirit of Nadar had been too powerful to stop from possessing him, but the guilt remained.


    He let out a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair.


    ¡°A punishment Floor.¡± Mathew whispered wearily as the elevator began to shift and move beneath him. He had no idea what to expect, and none of the other players he had met had ever travelled to a punishment floor.


    Mathew couldn¡¯t shake the thought that he deserved to be punished, that his failure to secure the Crown and protect the city meant that he should have to be penalized.


    The potions flowed through his body, and after nearly an hour of rest, he opened the shop and purchased a new armour. Similar to his last ones, they protected him from the elements, had increased durability and had the standard cleaning enchantments. But they didn¡¯t confer any special abilities.


    Restocking his potions while he did so, Mathew drained the few units of Aether he had left. He hadn¡¯t gained anything from the 16<sup>th</sup> Floor, meaning he was currently destitute.


    The elevator slowed and came to a stop, and Mathew wearily climbed to his feet. The silver wristband began to vibrate and warm against his skin. Raising it to his eyes, he read the message.


    Floor 17 ¨C Punishment Floor ¨C Mining Aether


    Summary: You are a failure. You were unsuccessful in the task assigned to you by the gods and, as such, must make restitution. Recover Aether Crystals to pay your debt to the gods; only then will you leave for the next floor.


    Current Debt: 500,000,000 Units of Aether.


    Mathew¡¯s eyes widened in shock at the number listed. His total Aether accumulated since he had entered the Tower were less than 10 million units of Aether. How the hell was he supposed to gather fifty times that?!


    The message continued, and his surprise and concern increased with every word.


    Punishment Floor Details of Note:


    <ol>


    <li> Blessings are blocked.</li>


    <li> Shop is inaccessible. </li>


    <li> Attributes are reduced. </li>


    <li> Inventory is inaccessible. </li>


    <li> Potions are ineffective. </li>


    <li> Magical Enchantments have been nullified. </li>


    </ol>


    ¡°Christ.¡± Mathew cursed as he continued down the list. He tried to open his inventory, but nothing happened. It was the same when he tried to get any response from the silver wristband. Nothing responded. The few potions that he had tucked away in his belt had turned grey, losing their colour and lustre. Even his armour lacked the normal glow associated with enchantments.


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    The elevator doors opened to a desolate, frigid world covered in ice and snow. Mathew shivered as the cold bit deeply into his flesh. The reduced Attributes made him feel weaker and more susceptible to temperature changes than before.


    His feet crunched through the hard top layer of the snow before sinking down nearly to his knees. As the light of the elevator faded and it disappeared from sight, Mathew assessed this new Floor.


    There was nothing around, just a few snow-covered hills and several rocky outcrops where the winds had scoured them clean. There were no buildings in sight or any signs of civilization. The sky was covered in dark grey clouds, and heavy snowflakes were constantly falling down onto him.


    ¡°What am I supposed to do now?¡± Mathew muttered to himself as he tucked his cold hands into his armpits to keep them warm. His armour was nearly useless; the stiff leather didn¡¯t trap much heat, and the metal parts felt like he was wearing ice.


    He hadn¡¯t had a chance to root around in his inventory for supplies, clothing, weapons or anything useful. Mathew just hoped that he wouldn¡¯t run into anything hostile on this floor.


    Although, with how barren this world appeared, he doubted he would find anything.


    A faint reflection in front of Mathew in the dim light filtered through the thick cloud cover. Stepping forward, Mathew knelt and brushed the snow off of an object.


    It was a pickaxe. Picking it up, he studied it for a moment before familiar burning words appeared above it.


    The Penitent Pickaxe


    Summary: Wielded by those who seek forgiveness for their failures, The Penitent Pickaxe will be with you for as long as you can survive on this Floor. Use it to dig for Aether and offer it to the gods for their mercy and absolution.


    Item Enchantments: Indestructible.


    Mathew hefted the pickaxe onto his shoulder, unused for a moment by just how much weaker he was compared to the last Floor. The restrictions placed on him were brutal, and, for a moment, he seriously wondered if he was going to die on this Floor.


    ¡®Maybe I deserve it.¡¯ Mathew whispered the guilt weighed heavy on him. He was about to set the pickaxe down once again in defeat when something appeared out of the corner of his eye.


    It was a Celestial; the floating spirit had apparently found him despite travelling to a new Floor. It slowly flew through the air, studying him with interest. The whispers returned, echoing in all directions, barely heard over the howling of the wind.


    ¡®Lageness Must Zatize Us¡¯


    ¡°You can shut up now; I still don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re saying!¡± Mathew shouted, his nerves frayed by his experiences over the past few hours. He raised the pickaxe and hurled it at the spirit in frustration and anger.


    Predictably, the tool passed harmlessly through the Celestial and landed on the ground, where it sent a small amount of snow swirling into the air. Mathew let out a frustrated huff that created a white mist in front of his face before he slowly trudged to the Pickaxe and lifted it once more.


    ¡°Just leave me alone.¡± Mathew grumbled. Looking around for a moment, he picked a direction at random and started to walk. The Celestial followed behind him, floating above the tracks he left in the snow.


    The dim light of day turned to night, and the clouds above cleared, allowing Mathew to see the sky. There were stars out, stretching across the heavens. There were also two moons, a bright silver one that lit up the snow and a darker, reddish oval moon that trailed along in the bright moon¡¯s wake.


    The night air turned even colder, and Mathew shivered uncontrollably when he blessedly found a small cave to block the wind. It was little more than a cleft under an outcrop, but it was enough to shelter under.


    Unfortunately, there were no trees or brush to burn, leaving him in the dark and the cold. But he could feel something in the icy wasteland. There were traces of Aether here, and he could catch hints of its scent in the air.


    Having found shelter and seeking to keep warm, Mathew lifted the pickaxe, found a likely spot to dig, and struck. Again and again, he dug into the earth, using the pointy end to break up the hard rock or frozen ground and then using the flat portion to scoop it out.


    After a few minutes, his body warmed enough that he was no longer shivering constantly. After an hour he had a nice pile of rocks and soil on the cave floor next to him, and he was sweating profusely. After a day he finally found his first piece of Crystallized Aether.


    The small, blue crystal was no bigger than a pea, but it was one of the most beautiful sights Mathew had ever seen, especially because the find came with a notification from his silver wristband.


    Limited Shop Functions Enabled. Aether may be used to purchase basic supplies.


    Note: Aether spent in the Shop must come from the Punishment Floor. Aether spent in the Shop can not be used toward the Debt.


    Mathew tossed the pickaxe onto the ground wearily and opened up the shop. The Aether in his hands disappeared, and he found a new total at the bottom. That small crystal was worth three units of Aether. A pitiful amount, and he saw the option of applying it to his debt or purchasing from the Shop.


    He chose to buy something right away. For three units of Aether, he got a cloak, enough rations to last him a day, and a ¡®warming stone¡¯ that the Shop promised would drive away the cold for a few hours.


    It may have only been a small amount, but it was a start.

 Chapter 175 – Floor 17: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 175</u> ¨C Floor 17: Part 2


    A cold wind blew across the frigid wasteland that was the 17<sup>th</sup> Floor. The falling snow was swept up in its wake, swirling around the rocks and jagged pillars of ice that dotted the landscape.


    Eventually, the wind made its way to a small cave opening partially blocked by a fabric sheet pinned to the entrance. The fabric billowed slightly as the wind slammed itself against it, moving it enough for some to make its way inside.


    The slight gust of wind reached the center of a small chamber hand carved from the rock and frozen earth where it touched a burning, magical fire sourced from a large, red stone. The wind made the flames flare and dance, casting shadows on the walls.


    Next to the fire was a small cot with a few threadbare and worn blankets, making up what they lacked in quality with quantity. Beside the cot were a few small tools: a sewing kit, a kettle and tripod to hang over the fire, a metal plate and a spoon.


    Each item in the cave seemed well used and showed signs of being repaired often.


    The gust of wind circled the cave chamber before it found its way deeper through an opening in the wall that led downwards. Here, the tunnel twisted and turned as if whoever was digging had frequently changed direction to search for something.


    At this point, another noise joined the sound of rushing wind. A metal hammering on stone would send vibrations through the ground and ring out rhythmically, occasionally pausing for a few moments before continuing.


    Deeper, the wind travelled until it reached the lowest part of the cavern.


    A bearded man wearing layers of rags was using a pickaxe to dislodge sections of the wall. This was the source of the hammering, and the wind was a draft that ruffled the man''s long, filthy hair. The chill air sent a shiver down the man¡¯s back as it brushed against his neck.


    ¡°Damnable cold. I told you to close the flap!¡± The man grumbled as he drew a red scarf closer around his neck in case the draft returned. Hefting his pickaxe once more, he slammed the sharp point into a crack in the rock and pulled.


    After straining for a few moments, the rock dislodged to reveal a glittering shard of crystal. Laughing loudly, the man threw down the pickaxe and carefully lifted his prize. Brushing off the dirt that stubbornly clung to the crystal''s surface, he raised it triumphantly to show it to his companion.


    ¡°See! I told you it would be here! A rich vein indeed. The Aether likes to stick together in areas where strong mana once existed, like moths to a flame. This has to be at least a million units!¡± The man shouted as he turned the large chunk of Crystalized Aether to see it better against the light cast by a white, magical stone that he had jammed into a crevice.


    The man cocked his head to the side as if he were listening to someone speak before scowling.


    ¡°You¡¯re talking nonsense, like always. I don¡¯t even know why I bother trying!¡± The man screamed as the Aether in his hand slowly disappeared. Watching it with satisfaction, he picked up his pickaxe and pulled the luminous stone from its resting place as he began to walk back toward his campsite.


    Mathew had lost track of his time on the 17<sup>th</sup> Floor. He had tried to keep count of the passing of days, but it was difficult, especially when it seemed so pointless. Judging by his equipment and progress in digging for Aether, he knew that it must have been years, maybe decades.


    He was close now, so very close to the end. He grinned as he walked, thinking about what he would do when he left this place. What food would he eat, how great a hot shower and a warm bed would feel? He couldn¡¯t remember them, even with his enhanced memory.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    He occasionally dreamed of his lost comforts, but that was more tortuous than forgetting. Once he woke cold and hungry, he cursed the gods and his weakness, which had sent him to this hell.


    Mathew felt old, tired and used. Despite the Tower keeping him young, the 17<sup>th</sup> Floor felt like it was aging him. He was hunched over from the low ceiling of his cave prison, constantly shivering from the cold, his belly always rumbling from never having enough food.


    Not to mention his injuries. His leg dragged stiffly against the rock floor; every step would send a twinge of agony shooting from his ankle to his knee. He had fallen shortly after he had arrived when he had gone outside the cave to explore. Falling down a hole that had been covered by snow, he had shattered some of the bones of his right leg, and they had never healed properly.


    Potions didn¡¯t work here, and the Shop only carried the most basic of first aid items. Thankfully, he had been able to crawl back here and recover after a few months, but his injuries meant he was wary ever to leave the cave again.


    Not that he needed to; the Aether was abundant in this place. He had hundreds of millions of units carefully hoarded over his time here.


    Besides, it¡¯s not like he was alone here.


    ¡®¡®Lageness Must Zatize Us¡¯


    The Spirits of the Celestials whispered to him from the darkness, and Mathew took comfort in their presence. He still couldn¡¯t understand them and had been desperate to learn their language over the years.


    He yearned to communicate with someone, anyone. Even the spirits of dead aliens were preferable to loneliness. Mathew let out a sigh and nodded.


    ¡°Lagness Must Zatize Us¡± Mathew agreed wearily, despite not knowing what it meant. Sometimes, he wished that he had used the Words of Power more when he had the chance. Then perhaps he could have a proper conversation with them.


    Returning to his camp, Mathew leaned the pickaxe up against the wall. Dragging his leg awkwardly across the uneven stone ground, he picked up the pot from beside the fire and walked toward the entrance.


    Raising the flap that kept the worst of the cold out, he braced himself for the cold. It hit him like a fist, knocking the air from his lungs. The wind howled outside, and the snow stung his exposed face as Mathew hurried to a nearby pile of snow.


    Scooping up some of the white powder into the pot, he scrambled to return to the cave as quickly as his bad leg would allow him. When he was nearly there, he slipped on a patch of ice, and the pot flew out of his hands.


    Falling onto the ground, pain erupted from his back and leg as the pot bounced and rolled across the ground.


    Cursing his clumsiness and the 17<sup>th</sup> Floor, Mathew slowly picked himself up. Unable to walk, he crawled over to the pot on his hands and good knee. Grabbing the pot, he filled it with snow again and returned through the flap to the cave.


    Collapsing into the relative warmth of the cave, he took a few minutes to recover before crawling his way to the fire created by the stone purchased from the shop. They only lasted a few hours, but they were the only way to make fire on this Floor.


    Mathew quickly set up the tripod and placed the pot of ice and snow over the fire. Leaning back against his cot next to the fire, he let out a sigh of relief as the pain slowly faded from his leg and back. By the time the pot contained boiling water, he had recovered enough to add a few ingredients to make a simple stew.


    Every day on the 17<sup>th</sup> Floor passed in the same way. Mathew would sleep on his cot until the fire next to him extinguished as the warming stones expired. Eventually, the cold would seep into the cave, waking him up.


    Mathew would replace the stones and start his day. Boiling snow and ice for water and eating the same rations from the shop would continue the mundanity. Day by day, he would expand the cave in search of Aether, each piece hoarded like a miser to pay toward his debt.


    Filthy, battered and nearly insane, Mathew survived the Punishment Floor until he eventually dug out the last piece of Aether from deep beneath the Earth.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    Floor 17 ¨C Punishment Floor ¨C Mining Aether (Complete)


    Summary: You have been absolved of your failure. You may leave the Punishment Floor.


    Mathew looked at the burning words with tears in his eyes. He collapsed onto his knees in relief; even the pain from his leg wasn¡¯t enough to take away from his sense of accomplishment. He could finally leave!


    ¡°We did it!¡± He whispered, his smile obscured by his thick, black beard. He turned to look at the Celestial Spirit next to him, who was watching him, with the same curious expression it always had.


    ¡®Lagness Must Zatize Us.¡¯


    ¡°I know. Someday, we¡¯ll make them pay for what they did to us.¡± Mathew agreed, vowing in his heart to become powerful enough that he could make the gods suffer for the harm they caused.


    He would never fail again.

 Chapter 176 – Floor 18: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 176</u> ¨C Floor 18: Part 1


    Lily Bartlett knelt on the floor of her family¡¯s chapel in their estate''s rear.


    It was empty at this hour of the night; even the servants had returned to their rooms for the evening. The large windows of the chapel were open, allowing the warm summer breeze to enter and filling the chapel with the smell of flowers.


    Her knees ached from kneeling on the stone floor, even with the thick rug that covered it. She was desperate, and, at this point, the gods were her only hope. She kept her head bowed, and her hands clasped as she whispered her prayer.


    ¡°Please, send me a champion! I don¡¯t want to marry Ridley White; he¡¯s a cruel and uncaring man! His family is vile! Please, save me!¡± Lily prayed, her whispered voice barely carried across the chapel.


    The Bartletts were a family of wealthy merchants in Amalar, a coastal city-state. They traded in distant lands and owned a fleet of cargo ships. But they weren¡¯t Nobility, and their youngest daughter, Lily, had attracted the attention of Ridley White, the Sixth Prince of Amalar.


    He was the pride and joy of the King and Queen, but the people reviled him. He had started life spoiled and pampered, which eventually gave way to a cruel tyrant who demanded things from everyone around him and relied on his status to protect him from the consequences.


    Lily was young and beautiful, with honey-coloured hair and a lovely disposition. She was kind and caring, helping her neighbours and listening to her tutors diligently. It was only by happenstance that she had been walking home one day when Ridley White had spotted her from a distance.


    A shout had startled her so much that she had nearly dropped her bag containing her books and other supplies. Before she knew what was happening, Ridley White was standing in front of her, demanding that she accompany him immediately and declaring to everyone that ¡®she was his woman.¡¯


    He wanted her to be one of his concubines and join his harem of dozens of women in the palace. Lily had heard rumours about their treatment, and there was no way she would ever agree to it.


    But there was nothing her parents could do; the King and Queen had heard that their favourite child had taken an interest in her and had insisted her family comply. No one in Amalar was willing to stand with them against the royal family, not even for wealthy merchants.


    Her only recourse had been to pray to the gods for divine intervention. Tears streamed down Lily¡¯s cheeks as she raised her head to look at the symbol of the Bartlett family¡¯s chosen deity.


    The god of  Sanctuary Retort had never spoken to her directly before, but the priests say that the god listens to those under its protection.


    ¡°Please, save me.¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew was eager to arrive on the new Floor. The shop was open to him now, but he lacked Aether to purchase anything. Dressed in rags layered over his armour, he looked like someone who had been stranded for decades in the wilderness.


    The first thing he had done with his inventory open was to take a potion in an attempt to heal his right leg, but the injury was too old. He would have to live with a limp until he levelled up, which could be a while since a new Discipline hadn¡¯t been offered to him yet.


    Mathew cracked a ¡®cleaning tablet¡¯ that he had pulled from his inventory and felt the cleansing energy sweep over his body and clothing, eliminating the years of dirt, grime and stains that had accumulated. He had grown used to the smell, and it was strange to breathe fresh air again.


    He could not do anything about his clothing, hair, or beard until he arrived on the new Floor. The armour probably couldn¡¯t be salvaged; the lack of enchantments on the Punishment Floor had worn away at the material, and the metal was rusty.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Mathew scratched his clean beard and hair, and he marvelled at the difference as the elevator slowed.


    ¡°Here we go!¡± Mathew shouted eagerly. He crossed his fingers, hoping for a world with hot showers and meals with large portions.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Lily awoke in her bedroom as the sun peeked through the thin curtains that moved in the breeze off the water, driving away the intense summer heat. Her window looked out over the bay, and the water sparkled in the sunlight.


    She loved looking out the window or taking long walks on the boardwalk near the harbour. But she could curse the sun this morning.


    This would be the last morning she woke in her own bed. Ridley White would arrive this evening to collect her. He would offer her parents some gold and other gifts as compensation, drag her through the streets to ¡®show off her beauty¡¯ like a hunter displaying their kill, then she would be consigned to the Prince¡¯s harem where she would never be allowed freedom again.


    The morning passed in a blur, with Lily dressing mechanically. Before she knew it, she was in the breakfast parlour with her parents and siblings. There was a sombre mood in the room, with no conversation. Everyone knew that what was going to happen was inevitable, and no one wanted to break the silence.


    Her father was reading the morning newspaper, and the small, black font on the front page proclaimed that one of the neighbouring city-states was going through a drought. Lily knew that a story about her and Ridley would be buried somewhere deep within that paper.


    She tore apart a small piece of bread in frustration, the food only there to satisfy her parents. She herself didn¡¯t feel the slightest amount of hunger this morning.


    The gods had abandoned her. She had prayed to them, begged on her knees for deliverance, and they had not responded. What good was it to be a god if you were unwilling to save those who worship you?


    Lost in thought and feeling helpless, Lily barely noticed one of her family¡¯s staff members enter until she heard him speak. The man wore a business suit with their company¡¯s crest on the blazer.


    ¡°Sir, there¡¯s some kind of disturbance outside. You should come immediately.¡±


    Grumbling, her father stood and followed him outside. Looking through the large windows of their breakfast parlour, Lily could see a strange glare outside. Curious and desperate for anything to take her mind off her troubles, she walked over and looked outside.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew raised his arm as soon as the silver wristband began to vibrate.


    Floor 18 ¨C A Damsel in Distress


    Summary: Lily Barlett will soon be resigned to a fate she does not desire. A greedy young Prince, Ridley White, has taken an interest in Lily¡¯s attractive appearance and has claimed her as a concubine. He is to take her away from her family, who are powerless to stop him.


    Lily has prayed to the god of Sanctuary Retort for salvation.


    You will defend Lily and convince Ridley White and the Royal Family that it is in their best interest to allow Lily to live her life as she wishes.


    Reward: 500,000 Aether.


    Mathew was disappointed with the reward. He was hoping for a new Discipline and enough Aether for a level-up, but he was destitute and desperate. At least it seemed like this Floor would be straightforward and simple.


    ¡°Alright, food, shower, warm bed, then save the girl. In that order.¡± Mathew grinned excitedly as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slowly opened. As soon as they were wide enough for him to pass through, Mathew was dragging his bad leg through it while shouting.


    ¡°Civilization, here I come!¡±


    It had been far too long since he had seen anyone.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Lily watched in amazement as the light intensified, forming a large pillar that shot up into the sky. Her siblings and mother joined her at the window, and she could see her father standing with his guards and some of the employees of his company in the front driveway.


    The window paned and trembled, and she could feel a vibration in the floorboards beneath her feet. The light flashed, and she was forced to cover her eyes with her hands as some of the people outside screamed.


    When she could see again, the light was gone and in its place was a man.


    He was tall, had a beard that stretched down to his chest and was dressed in rags of different colours. The man was standing in their driveway, his arms spread wide, and he was laughing wildly.


    ¡°Who is that man?¡± Her brother asked. He was staring out the window with a disgusted look on his face. Her mother responded.


    ¡°A homeless person by the look of him. Don¡¯t worry; the guards will drive him off. Honestly, what is Amalar coming to when someone like that can just barge onto private property? And today of all days.¡± Her mother trailed off and placed her hand over her mouth in surprise at what she just said as she shot a look at Lily.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, mom.¡± Lily responded. There was something decidedly odd about the man and not just about how he looked. He was acting like someone who hadn¡¯t seen the sun in years. He was twirling in the driveway, and he was still laughing!


    The guards obviously had enough, and she could see them approaching the man quickly; a pair of large men that Lily knew followed her father everywhere to ensure his safety. She could hear what was being said through the glass.


    ¡°Sir, this is private property. Come with us.¡± They said. Not waiting for a response, they were about to grab the man when he stopped laughing and spinning abruptly.

 Chapter 177 – Floor 18: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 177</u> ¨C Floor 18: Part 2


    Mathew¡¯s euphoria was interrupted by a pair of men approaching him as he spun around in a paved driveway in front of a massive mansion. He didn¡¯t sense much of a threat from the two bodyguards; they lacked mana, and the ¡®Buzz¡¯ didn¡¯t activate, but it was something they had in their possession that drew his attention immediately.


    ¡°Guns! You have guns!¡± Mathew yelled in excitement. Firearms meant technology, and technology led to hot showers, warm meals and comfortable beds. If this Lily Bartlett was wealthy enough to live in an estate and be protected by bodyguards, he would have no problem freeloading off of her for a while!


    The bodyguards paused for just a moment as they saw a wide grin on Mathew¡¯s face. One even reached for his weapon, readying in case of trouble, when Mathew let out a loud guffaw of laughter that echoed against the walls of the mansion.


    ¡°Now, now, I¡¯m here to help! Earthbind!¡± Mathew shouted for the Blessing, and his mana responded immediately. A long absent energy swelled up inside him, and strands of yellow mana streaked up from the ground and wrapped themselves around the bodyguards.


    ¡°Gods be damned, it¡¯s good to have that back.¡± Mathew whispered gleefully as he savoured the feeling of power. It was like finally waking up after a long slumber, or walking after you had been forced to lie still.


    The bodyguards struggled to free themselves, but it was useless. Mathew strutted past them toward the considerably rounder and wealthy-looking man behind them. As he passed, he patted one of the guards on the head.


    ¡°Good boy.¡± Mathew praised as if he were speaking to a dog.


    ¡°I..I am Roger Bartlett! I can give you money if that is what you are after.¡± Lily¡¯s father stammered in fear as he saw his two large and well-trained bodyguards effortlessly ensnared by this barbarous-looking young man dressed in rags.


    Mathew shook his head and didn¡¯t stop walking.


    ¡°Not interested!¡± Mathew replied as he passed Roger and walked toward the closed doors of the estate. Not slowly down, he raised his hand and pointed at the wide, wooden doors that were reinforced with metal and worked in fancy designs.


    ¡°Word of Power: Break!¡± Mathew commanded, and the universe responded. Reality trembled, and with a loud crack, the doors shattered into pieces, and splinters of wood and metal fell to the ground and spilled across the stairs.


    Mathew was giddy, nearly overwhelmed with the feeling of strength and power that had returned to him. He didn¡¯t care that his leg didn¡¯t function properly and he was left with a limp; he didn¡¯t need it! The Words of Power and his other Blessings would be more than enough to handle every situation.


    He couldn¡¯t believe he had lived for years without it! From the corner of his eye, Mathew saw a few Celestials lazily floating through the air with their eyes fixed on him. They were more substantial than there were on the 17<sup>th</sup> Floor, like they were drawing strength from the use of the Words of Power.


    ¡®Good.¡¯ Mathew thought. His years of solitude had only been bearable because the Celestials accompanied him. He no longer feared the spirits; they were like old friends.


    His boots, little more than hard soles wrapped and held in place by rags, crunched on the ground as he ascended the steps. The fearful Roger followed slowly, still stammering that he would offer whatever Mathew wanted.


    After the display of destroying the front doors of his mansion, Roger was convinced this strange, wild man would kill everyone or take whatever he wanted. Roger needed to warn someone, anyone, of the danger they were in from this man!This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    But he couldn¡¯t leave his family in danger!


    Mathew entered the mansion and paused for a moment. He took in the beautiful foyer and the wealth on display.


    ¡°Shower and food, here I come!¡± Mathew whispered with a grin. Ignoring Roger, Mathew made his way deeper into the estate.


    ¡°That¡¯s far enough!¡± An older man shouted as he came around a corner. He wore a white shirt and black pants, and in his arms was a large shotgun, the two barrels pointed directly at Mathew¡¯s chest. Roger heaved a sigh of relief at the sudden rescue.


    Now that this stranger was halted, they could alert the authorities¡­


    ¡°Reduce.¡± Mathew commanded, not breaking his stride down the hallway. The shotgun in the old man¡¯s hands shrunk in size, and the old man dropped the weapon in shock. By the time it hit the ground, it was no bigger than a pencil.


    But the old man wasn¡¯t done; looking around quickly, he raised a brass candleholder that was resting on a table and brandished it. He was about to charge when Mathew¡¯s next words stopped him.


    ¡°Enlarge.¡± Mathew stated, his voice tinged with amusement as the candleholder doubled in size, then doubled again. In moments, the old man was holding a comically massive candleholder. Releasing it, the metal object crashed into the ground with enough weight to crack the tiles beneath and shake the walls.


    ¡°Nice attempt. Earthbind.¡± Familiar yellow energies wrapped around the old man¡¯s legs and arms. Mathew sidestepped around him and continued down the hall.


    ¡°Lily Bartlett! Where are you!¡± Mathew called out, his tone playful as he peeked through one door and then another.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Lily huddled next to her mother and siblings as shouts filled the mansion. There was a terribly loud crash, and she could feel the floorboards shake. The vibrations dislodged a vase and fell onto the ground, shattering into pieces. She started in fright at the sudden noise.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be alright. Your father will handle it.¡± Her mother assured them, while her eldest brother stood protectively in front of them, a small knife held in his hand.


    ¡°Lily Bartlett! Where are you!¡± A stranger''s voice sounded out, slightly muffled by the closed doors of the breakfast parlour. Her mother turned to look at her, her eyes wide; when the doors opened with enough force, they slammed into the wall, the doorknob leaving a hole in it.


    ¡°Ahh! Finally! I knew I smelled something good!¡± The stranger said as he entered the room as if he owned it.


    Dressed in multicoloured rags, his beard unkempt and hair hanging far down his back, he looked like some sailor who had been lost at sea and had found his way back to civilization after years stranded on an island.


    Her father rushed in behind the man just as he picked up a plate and moved some of the lids off trays to reveal the food beneath.


    ¡°Bacon! Eggs! Gods, how I missed a good meal. I¡¯ve been living off Shop rations for as long as I can remember. I hope you don¡¯t mind if I help myself.¡± The strange man said, already scooping food onto his plate until it was piled high.


    ¡°Now, see here!¡± Her father shouted while her brother stepped forward in a fencer stance with his knife ready.


    ¡°There¡¯s no need for all of that. You should sit down and enjoy this wonderful food.¡± The man said, his voice slightly muted by the mouthful of bacon he had just consumed. He gestured to the family to join him at the table and seemed irritated when the only response was her brother stepping closer with the knife raised.


    The strange man slammed his plate onto the table with enough force to make the food jump, and some of the pile fell off onto the tabletop.


    ¡°Tch, see what you made me do? Wasteful.¡± He let out a sigh.


    ¡°Righteous Aura of Subjugation!¡± The man raised his voice and called out. An intense light surrounded him, and Lily could feel some weight settle down on her shoulders. It forced her to her knees, her head bowed as if in supplication to the stranger.


    She was shocked to see that everyone else was doing the same, even her father and brother.


    ¡°There. That¡¯s better. Now, which one of you is Lily Bartlett?¡± The man asked as he sat at the head of the table, picked up his fork and began to eat. He gestured to them impatiently to speak, his hand waving.


    ¡°I¡­I am Lily Bartlett.¡± Lily said as she worked up her courage. Surprisingly, the feeling of weight disappeared immediately. The man nodded at her.


    ¡°Good, stand up and take a seat at the table. Proper manners and all that. I¡¯ve been eating alone for a long time; I¡¯d like some company.¡± The man said but didn¡¯t continue speaking until Lily sat at the end of the table across from him.


    The man didn¡¯t look at anyone else nor release any of her family from whatever power he held over them.


    ¡°Now, my name is Mathew, and the god of Sanctuary Retort has sent me. I¡¯m your Champion!¡± Mathew said, smiling widely and throwing his arms wide. The fork in his right hand held a long piece of bacon that still had some egg on it, and it dropped onto the floor.

 Chapter 178 – Floor 18: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 178</u> ¨C Floor 18: Part 3


    Lily stared at this strange man with mixed emotions.


    Disbelief and shock were chief among them; she could hardly believe that Sanctuary Retort had listened to her prayers! The deity who her family worshipped had sent a Champion to protect her!


    There were legends of Champions responding to the prayers of the faithful; the priests would recount them sometimes during their sermons, but she had never honestly thought that she was worthy of them.


    But why did Sanctuary Retort send this man!?


    Mathew was currently shovelling food into his mouth with a gusto that was normally reserved for those who were starved beyond reason. He had flecks of egg in his long beard, and he would occasionally cough loudly, sending a spray of half-chewed bacon, eggs and toast across the table as he nearly choked. Washing the food down with orange juice, he would barely pause before picking up his fork again.


    His explanation of why he was here was concise. After seeing that no one was enthused about his presence, he had merely shrugged his shoulders in dismissal and began to devour everything in sight.


    Lily was quickly finding him to be one of the most disgusting and obnoxious people she had ever met. If it weren¡¯t for the fact that she had told no one about her prayers to Sanctuary Retort, she would have thought this was a cruel prank by Ridley White to torment her.


    But Mathew knew all about her, at least regarding her request for protection from Ridley White and the dissolution of their bridal contract. He had assured them that he would convince the royal family to stop and that there would be no repercussions to the Bartlett family.


    Mathew finally finished his meal when there was no food left in sight. With a loud, satisfied belch, he set down his fork and stood up.


    ¡°Ah, that was excellent. Alright, I need a shower!¡± Mathew paused and looked down at his ragged clothing. He snapped his fingers as if he had just had a sudden thought.


    ¡°And a set of clothes. Probably could do with a shave and a haircut as well. You!¡± Mathew suddenly shouted and pointed at Lily¡¯s eldest brother. The young man started slightly at the noise and nervously dropped the knife he was still clutching in his hand.


    ¡°We¡¯re about the same size, I guess. Pick something out and have it sent to my room. Food! Check! Shower! Soon! Then a nap, and I¡¯ll be all set. When is this guy supposed to show up, anyway?¡± Mathew asked Lily. His quick movements, combined with leaping from topic to topic, had put Lily on the backfoot.


    It took her a second to gather her thoughts and understand what Mathew was saying.


    ¡°This evening. At dusk.¡± Lily responded, and Mathew nodded at the words.


    ¡°Good, plenty of time. Alright!¡± Mathew clapped his hands loudly.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±


    After Mathew had been escorted from the room by two servants who watched the strange and potentially dangerous man with wariness, Lily¡¯s family rounded on her and began to bombard her with questions.


    Unprepared for the onslaught, she could only stammer and mumble before he father interrupted them.


    ¡°Enough! Lily, explain to me what happened last night.¡± Roger requested.


    ¡°I went to the chapel to pray, but no one went with me, and I don¡¯t think anyone noticed that I had left my room.¡± Lily replied. Her father thought for a moment before continuing.


    ¡°What did you pray for? Be specific; we must understand the situation if we are to be correct in our response.¡±


    ¡°I asked Sanctuary Retort to send me a Champion. I wanted them to save me from Ridley White, and that I didn¡¯t want to become a concubine.¡± Lily admitted. Her father frowned, not from her prayer but from the fact that she had asked for a Champion.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    It was becoming more than likely that this Mathew was a Champion sent to them by the god of Sanctuary Retort. Roger just couldn¡¯t fathom how such a person could be the representative of a god.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that he is a Champion. It¡¯s far more probable that the royal family or one of our competitors learned of Lily¡¯s request for a Champion, and this is all a ruse to ruin us!¡±  Lily¡¯s eldest brother, Robert, spoke up angrily.


    ¡°That isn¡¯t possible; no one was with me in the Chaple!¡± Lily responded, and Robert snorted dismissively.


    ¡°There could have been spies outside the windows, sister. Did you think of that?¡± He replied, and Lily paled. The windows had been open, and she vividly recalled the smell of the flowers entering the chapel and mixing them with the scent of the wood inside.


    She placed a hand over her mouth in shock. How could she have been so stupid?!


    ¡°That still doesn¡¯t explain his abilities. He walked through my bodyguards like they weren¡¯t even there! Only Champions possess such talents and power.¡± Roger countered.


    ¡°Not only the Champions. The royal family has connections with many foreign domains; perhaps they requested their aid for this farce.¡± Lily¡¯s mother added.


    ¡°For what purpose? Our business is thriving, but we are nothing compared to some of our competitors.¡± Roger responded. The bickering continued for a moment before Lily spoke up.


    ¡°Does it matter? If he is an imposter, the end result is the same. I will be concubine to Ridley, and our family will be an embarrassment to our peers. If he is real, I don¡¯t believe that such a man as Mathew can compete with Ridley or his guards.¡± Lily said, her voice despondent and full of despair.


    Her parents tried to comfort her, but there was little to be said.


    Lily didn¡¯t see Mathew for the rest of the day, although she heard the occasional shout of excitement from the direction of the guest rooms and a few of their house staff rushing around carrying clothing, towels or food for him.


    A barber came in the afternoon and spent a few hours with the strange man, but he didn¡¯t leave until the sun began its descent to the horizon. Lily watched the sun nervously, knowing that as soon as night arrived, so too would Ridley White.


    Her fate was sealed, and Lily knew that even the ¡®Champion¡¯ who was currently resting upstairs, wouldn¡¯t be able to change his mind. She would be a concubine, consigned to the harem wing of the palace like a prisoner.


    Lily was standing near her bedroom window, staring out over the ocean as the last shred of sunlight faded. Artificial lights from the city below winked on, powered by large buoys that generated electricity from the ocean waves.


    She barely heard someone open the door and walk in.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± Her father asked, his tone subdued and barely suppressing his sadness and guilt. His daughter was making a sacrifice for their family, and he was ashamed that he had no choice but to let her.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Lily said softly.


    The pair walked through the corridors of the mansion in silence. Everyone had left early to avoid exposing them to Ridley White''s ire. His unpredictable nature meant that this meeting could go in any direction, and they didn¡¯t want to risk offending him.


    Descending the stairs, they passed through the newly installed front doors and down to the driveway where Lily¡¯s entire family met them. They were all dressed in their finest clothing, their muted expressions contrasting with the bright colours they wore. This was supposed to be a celebration, at least that was how it would be told to everyone, but Lily¡¯s family knew it was anything but.


    Taking her place beside her father and mother, she waited for Ridley White¡¯s arrival. It didn¡¯t take long.


    A procession of black automobiles pulled into the driveway. Sleek and perfectly clean, one of the large vehicles bore the flag of the royal family. Stopping in front of the Bartlett house, a dozen guards dressed in black suits climbed out of the vehicles and took positions around the marked car in the center.


    After securing the perimeter, one of the guards opened the car''s rear door, and Ridley White climbed out.


    A young man in his early twenties, he was somewhat handsome, although his lifestyle had left marks on him. He had bags under his eyes, and he was incredibly pale. He wore a suit with the jacket open and the shirt unbuttoned at the neck. Even with his relaxed outfit, Lily could see his stomach straining across the silk.


    Ridley had a sneer on his face, someone self-assured that everything belonged to them already, and he was merely going through the motions. He openly leered at Lily¡¯s mother and younger sister before focusing on Lily herself.


    She could feel his eyes rake over her body, and she had to stifle a shudder of disgust. She had heard what happened to anyone who offended him, and she didn¡¯t want to do anything that would endanger her family.


    Ridley sauntered toward them arrogantly. His head tilted back in a way that made him look down his nose at Lily and her family, and he sniffed as if something smelled bad. He snapped his fingers and gestured toward her.


    ¡°Well? Come here. I don¡¯t want to spend another minute longer than necessary in this pig sty. I want you home and bedded as soon as possible.¡± Ridley ordered expectantly.


    ¡°My..my lord. There are things to do first, contracts to sign¡­¡± Roger stammered, his normally calm demeanour utterly absent in the face of the walking disaster that was Ridley White.


    Ridley snapped his fingers again and gestured to one of his guards, who promptly walked forward and punched her father in the face. As Roger collapsed onto the ground, several of the other guards drew their guns from holsters hidden beneath their jackets and pointed them at Lily¡¯s brother and mother.


    ¡°Now.¡± Ridley demanded. Lily nodded quickly and was about to step forward when a voice interrupted her.


    ¡°Well, well, well, aren¡¯t you a little bastard. Normally, I don¡¯t like the places the gods send me, but this time, I think I¡¯m going to enjoy being here.¡±

 Chapter 179 – Floor 18: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 179</u> ¨C Floor 18: Part 4


    The man who descended the stairs in front of the mansion was a stranger to Lily. If it weren¡¯t for the slight limp in his right leg, she would have no clue about his identity.


    He was tall and incredibly handsome; his skin was pale white and unblemished, with a pair of blue eyes that practically glowed in the sunlight. His dark hair was cut to a fashionable length just past his ears and swept backwards with a part in the middle.


    The man wore a black suit that seemed to have been perfectly tailored for his lean and muscular body. Whereas Ridley, with his suit jacket open and shirt left unbuttoned looked slovenly, the stranger made it appear relaxed and stylish.


    The man was young; Lily guessed he was only around her own age, but a hardness in his gaze made him feel dangerous, like a wild animal that may look harmless for the moment but could turn at any moment.


    ¡°Mathew?¡± Lily guessed, the name coming unbidden from her mouth, and she clamped her lips shut in fear that Ridley would take offence to her speaking. The man turned his head slightly to look at her, smiled widely and winked.


    ¡°Do I look that different? Amazing what a good meal, a hot shower and a shave can do. Thanks for the suit by the way, it fits perfectly.¡± Mathew said, nodding to Lily¡¯s brother Robert in thanks. Lily blushed slightly from his attention.


    This Mathew was incomparable to the rough-looking beggar that had appeared in the Barlett¡¯s driveway. No one would have believed he was a Champion of the gods when he had arrived, but now, Lily was beginning to think that perhaps he had been sent by Sanctuary Retort to save her.


    ¡°What did you call me?¡± Ridley White said, his voice coming out as a sharp hiss between teeth clenched in anger. He was beginning to flush red with anger, a dangerous sign that everyone in Amalar knew would lead to disaster.


    Mathew seemed unconcerned with the young man¡¯s anger. He smiled and shrugged.


    ¡°Little Bastard? Are you telling me that¡¯s not your name? My apologies; I thought it was. Maybe it''s Witless instead? Idiot? Hold on, I¡¯ll get it eventually.¡± Mathew gestured with his hand, making a ¡®please wait¡¯ motion.


    With each name, Ridley¡¯s face darkened further. He turned to look at Roger, who was still kneeling on the ground and holding his cheek. Blood was leaking from a cut on his lip, and Lily¡¯s father looked terrified. He knew what would soon happen.


    He wanted to stop Mathew from speaking, but he wasn¡¯t able to get up off the ground.


    ¡°Who is this man?¡± Ridley asked, and Roger knew that the Bartlett family was in serious trouble.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just ask me, moron. I¡¯m her Champion.¡± Mathew said, pointing at Lily and smiling. He seemed so at ease that it was terrifying.


    Lily didn¡¯t know if it was from confidence or lack of knowledge. Mathew needed to know what this young man was capable of! He could have her entire family ¡®disappear¡¯ without a trial, the cause put down to an accident!


    ¡°Champion or lover? You whore! You belong to me!¡± Ridley viciously cursed Lily, and the young woman flinched from the words. Ridley turned to his guards and shouted.


    ¡°I want him dead! Now, you useless pieces of shit!¡± Ridley ordered. His bodyguards didn¡¯t hesitate; they immediately pointed their guns at Mathew, who was still smiling.


    ¡°Alter Self ¨C Thick Skin.¡± Mathew whispered so softly that only a faint murmur was heard by those around him.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Lily thought she could see barely visible scales form on Mathew¡¯s face, only noticeable by the slight shadows caused by the lights from streetlamps that lined the driveway and the headlights of the automobiles.


    There was a series of loud cracks, and Lily¡¯s mother rushed toward her to shield her from the violence. Her brother, Robert, picked up their father and dragged him away from the line of fire. Lily had never heard gunfire before and had never witnessed someone trying to murder another person.


    Fighting was completely foreign to her, something that happened in stories or far away places but never in her own driveway in front of her home, where she was always sheltered and protected.


    The next few moments were a confusing mass of images and blurry figures half seen from the sanctuary of her mother¡¯s arms.


    She saw people running and heard shouts of disbelief and anger, followed by a loud bang and a body flying past them to slam into the side of one of the automobiles, caving in a door and shattering the windows.


    When things calmed down a little later, Lily managed to peek her head out from where she was huddled to see Mathew standing before her. He was completely unharmed and appeared not to have moved at all.


    Several of the guards were lying on the ground, alive but incapacitated. More of them had pulled back with Ridley protected behind a vehicle. The poor man who had crashed into the car was still alive; Lily could see that he was trying to crawl away.


    ¡°I guess I am bulletproof! I always wondered about that.¡± Mathew said while laughing. Lily could find several holes in the front of his suit where bullets had punctured the clothing.


    ¡°Now, if that¡¯s all you have, I¡¯m going to teach the little punk a lesson. Then, I¡¯m going to find his parents and teach them a lesson. And so on until I complete my objective and get to go eat supper and sleep in that comfy bed upstairs.¡± Mathew said as he shook his suit jacket and adjusted it slightly.


    ¡°You fools, stop him!¡± Ridley shouted, but Lily could see that his bodyguards were terrified of Mathew and no match for his strange abilities and physical strength. They were looking at each other while keeping their guns trained on Mathew.


    Lily was finally convinced that he was a Champion sent to her by the god of Sanctuary Retort.


    ¡°They won¡¯t be able to, not unless you have something a lot stronger than a pistol. Maybe try a rocket launcher? Do you have rocket launchers in this world? Maybe you could get a flamethrower?¡± Mathew taunted as he walked forward, his right leg slightly dragging behind him.


    ¡°Sir, we should leave.¡± One of the guards said to Ridley, who promptly scowled at the man and moved to the rear of the vehicle. Popping the trunk, he rooted around for a moment before pulling out a black briefcase.


    ¡°Idiots.¡± Ridley muttered, popping the top off the briefcase as Mathew and most of the Bartletts watched curiously. Ridley had taken out a syringe filled with a strange, blue liquid with black streaks throughout it.


    ¡°Is that..¡± Mathew paused, and Lily turned her attention to the Champion. He was frozen and watching the syringe carefully. The manic, nearly insane expression on his face was instantly replaced with wariness and suspicion.


    An odd smell suddenly swept over everything around them; it was spicy and stung her nose, but she couldn¡¯t identify what it was or where it was coming from. It seemed Mathew recognized it because he was suddenly rushing toward Ridley. Lily could tell Mathew was no longer playing around and was intent on stopping him.


    ¡°Drop the Aether!¡± Mathew shouted, but he was too slow.


    His leg seemed to be hindering him, and even with his superhuman abilities, Ridley was able to take the syringe and plunge it into the man who had suggested they retreat. Everyone was shocked by his actions; even his bodyguards stepped away from their charge, stunned by the sudden betrayal.


    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± One of the guards screamed as Ridley threw away the syringe and stepped away from the guard. The man Ridley had attacked was howling in pain; he had dropped his gun and was now clawing at his face with his fingernails. His skin was darkening, his veins turning black.


    Mathew had stopped his charge and was now moving toward Lily and her family.


    ¡°Run!¡± Mathew urged them. Grabbing Lily by the arm, he was pushing her toward the open doors of the mansion.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening!?¡± Lily asked in confusion. The screams were getting worse, and Mathew wasn¡¯t waiting to provide an explanation. After the second time Lily stumbled, Mathew picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.


    ¡°Nothing good! I don¡¯t know what the hell that little bastard gave that guy, but the ¡®Buzz¡¯ is going crazy! I can¡¯t fight it and protect you at the same time! Gods damn it all, run!¡± Mathew shouted to Lily¡¯s father and brother, pushing and shoving everyone up the steps as the shrieks and yells from the guard deepened and changed.


    Lily looked up from where she was being carried across Mathew¡¯s shoulder and saw the screaming guard. He was changing. He was growing larger, his clothing was splitting apart, and his skin was a deep, purplish-blue. The other guards had moved away, half dragging and half carrying Ridley while the Prince was laughing at the sight.


    ¡°That¡¯s it! Kill them all!¡±

 Chapter 180 – Floor 18: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 180</u> ¨C Floor 18: Part 5


    Mathew herded the Bartletts up the front stairs and through the doors of the Mansion. Spinning around while keeping Lily Bartlett slung over his shoulder, Mathew slammed the doors shut and threw the bolt to lock them.


    Running a few steps further inside, he shoved over a nearby armoire that held a bunch of knickknacks in front of the door and tipped it over on its side. Ignoring the sound of shattering objects that were no doubt worth a fortune, Mathew piled two chairs on top of it to add more weight before taking off down the corridor as fast as his bad leg could propel him.


    All along the way, he would pull objects or create obstacles, anything to slow down the monster that would soon be chasing after him.


    Mathew had recognized the liquid inside the syringe, at least partially. It was Aether, somehow liquefied and corrupted by an unknown means. He was sure that whatever effect it had on that poor bodyguard that Ridley injected it would cause him to become monstrously powerful.


    If Mathew had any doubts about that, the blindingly painful warning from the ¡®Buzz¡¯ put them to rest. It was strong enough to send him running, and he wanted Lily Bartlett as far away from it as possible.


    He wouldn¡¯t fail another floor. Mathew was tasked with keeping her safe, and that was exactly what he was going to do.


    Assured that they were far away from the front entrance and the monster outside, Mathew placed Lily back on the ground beside her panting parents and frightened siblings. They knew their home better than he did; they just needed to be prodded along first.


    ¡°You!¡± Mathew shouted to the oldest sibling, the one who had given him the nice suit he was now wearing. The young man jumped slightly in fright at suddenly being called out and stared at Mathew with his mouth agape.


    ¡°Lead your family outside. Do you have somewhere you can go? Another family member, or a-¡± Mathew was interrupted by a thunderous crashing sound from the front of the mansion and the monster''s rage-filled roar. It was accompanied by a wave of strange energy that washed over them, making their movements sluggish and unresponsive.


    ¡°Shit. Subjugation Aura of the Righteous!¡± Mathew used his blessing to impose his will on those around him. Seeing the Aura driving back the strange energy the monster unleashed, Mathew once again got the Bartlett¡¯s attention.


    ¡°Go! Now!¡± Mathew shouted as more crashing sounded out, this time closer than before.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Lily had never been so terrified before in her life. The loud bangs and howls from whatever was outside had completely horrified her. She was shaking so badly that she doubted she could have walked, and she was grateful that Mathew had carried her to safety.


    The Aura of light and authority around him didn¡¯t replace the fear inside her, but it gave her something to focus on as his words cut through the terror.


    ¡°Go! Now!¡± Mathew shouted, and Lily¡¯s brother Robert pulled on her arm. The family began to run down the hallway leading to the mansion''s rear exit and the back gardens. From there, they would be able to take a path to the main street and safety.


    They had only made it halfway down the hallway when there was a deafening explosion, and Lily was knocked off her feet. Skidding and rolling, she slammed up against the wall. In a daze, she could see Mathew at the other end of the hall, his arms locked against a massive, humanoid monster.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    It was grotesque; it was leaking black liquid from large sores on its purplish skin, and its muscles bulged with tumour-like muscles. Its limbs were twisted wrongly, and it seemed to be insane with rage and pain. Mathew was straining to keep it at bay; its once human face was monstrous, with razor-sharp teeth and a snakelike tongue protruding and stretched toward him.


    ¡°Get¡­the hell¡­away from me!¡± Mathew shouted as he endeavoured to dislodge its grip. Twisting slightly, Mathew wrenched his arms, breaking its grip. Pushing it back, he struck it in the face with his fist.


    Lily saw the monster not react to the blow at all. Mathew¡¯s fist merely moved its head slightly, and her champion seemed just as shocked as she was when the creature reached forward and gripped Mathew¡¯s arms.


    The monster screamed and hurled Mathew in the opposite direction of the Lily. He slammed into a wall, breaking a hole in it and sending dust and debris everywhere before continuing on. The monster looked at her and her family for a moment before turning its attention back to the gap Mathew¡¯s body had made in the wall.


    Its legs muscles clenched for a moment before it leapt with incredible force. Crashing through the wall and making an even larger hole, Lily could hear more blasts and collapsing walls and furniture from beyond.


    ¡°Come on, we need to go!¡± Robert said as he hooked his arm under Lily and lifted her from the ground. Stumbling down the hallway, they emerged into the dim light of the rear gardens. The artificial lights here were evenly spaced along the winding paved walkway, which led through the flower beds and well cared for trees.


    Lily panted from the exertion and the fear. Her mind could barely register what was happening; the smells of the garden and the night sounds of the outdoors went unnoticed. She could hear her brother¡¯s laboured breath beside her as he practically carried her down the path.


    Another explosion rang out from the mansion, followed by a scream of pain and a great burst of light from the house''s second floor. The windows exploded, and glass rained down, covering the ground and pathway with shards.


    ¡°Investiture of Flame!¡± Lily could faintly hear Mathew shout through the now open windows, and fire burst outwards, lighting the night in reds and yellows. She could feel an intense heat wash over her before the cool night air returned.


    There were more explosions, screams and shouts as the monster and man fought inside the house. They were near to the end of the path when a figure flew through the night air and landed on the ground.


    Mathew¡¯s body dug a deep trench in the soft soil of the garden. Tumbling and turning, he rolled to a stop. Lily could hear him coughing, and when she came close, she could see that he was covered in dirt and blood. He had a sword in his hands, a strange weapon that was long and sharp but flat at the end.


    Finally climbing back to his feet, Mathew looked from the now-burning mansion to Lily and her family before speaking.


    ¡°I thought I told you to run?¡± Mathew asked. He was about to continue when the monster leapt from the top of the mansion and landed heavily in the back garden, sending up a spray of dirt, soil and rocks.


    It was wounded; cuts and marks marred its bare body. Instead of blood, blue Aether and tinged with black corruption flowed from the wounds. It approached Mathew more warily than it had before; it was cautious of what he could do.


    ¡°Too late now! Everyone get behind me.¡± Mathew ordered. Stepping forward, he raised his hand and pointed his finger at the monster.


    ¡°Word of Power: Burn!¡± Mathew shouted. Lily and her family could not understand what Mathew had said; the words he spoke were gibberish to them. Only someone with the knowledge of the Words of Power could recognize them.


    An oppressive force descended from above, pressing down on the Bartletts and the monster that wanted to kill them all. Mathew called upon the power to change reality, and it responded. Flames erupted across the creature¡¯s body, and it let out a scream of pain.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, you bastard!¡± Mathew cheered, and Lily could see that his grim expression was beginning to be replaced with the manic, amused appearance with which he had arrived at her house. He began to laugh as he looked at something in the darkness and spoke.


    ¡°You see that? We could have used a few words on the last Floor!¡± Mathew said to the darkness, and he seemed to be listening to a response. Lily saw him nod his head a few times and look thoughtful.


    ¡°You would say that.¡± Mathew replied after a moment and turned back to the monster. The flames were spreading, and it was batting at them with both of its massive palms in an attempt to smother them.


    ¡°There¡¯s no use, those flames can¡¯t be¡­huh¡­that¡¯s new.¡± Mathew¡¯s voice trailed off. The monster had coated its palms in the fluid leaking from its wounds. The bright blue and black ¡®blood¡¯ was vibrant in the dim light. As soon as it touched the flames, they stopped burning.


    ¡°Alright, new plan. You all should probably start running again.¡± Mathew said as he turned to look at Lily.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to be around for what happens next.¡±

 Chapter 181 – Floor 18: Part 6

    <u>Chapter 181</u> ¨C Floor 18: Part 6


    As the Bartlett family fled behind him, Mathew gathered his mana together. Cycling it furiously inside his body, he raised his hand, palm outward, toward the monster that was now only smouldering slightly rather than engulfed in flames.


    A large part of Mathew was excited about using this Blessing. He knew he should be scared or worried about this fight, but years of isolation without access to his strength and abilities made him look forward to using them again.


    Maybe he was being foolish, but there was no way in hell he was going to fail a Floor again. He would never go back to that prison planet and mine Aether again.


    When his gathered mana reached its pinnacle and could not be contained anymore, he unleashed the Blessing.


    ¡°Disintegrate.¡±


    As soon as the word left Mathew¡¯s mouth, time stood still. Nothing in the world moved, including him. He could feel the mana dissipate from inside his body; that thrill of expulsion that accompanied the discharge was curiously absent. It was as if the mana was there one instant and gone the next.


    To Mathew¡¯s eyes, a humungous pendulum formed in the space between himself and the monster. Frozen mid-charge, Mathew didn¡¯t even know if it was aware of the changes in the world around it or if this was merely Mathew¡¯s mind trying to make sense of something beyond his comprehension.


    The pendulum was formed of bright green Mana, and it began to swing slowly back and forth. Each time it reached the end of its movement in one direction, a thunderous ¡®gong¡¯ would ring out, and reality itself would shake.


    With the movement of the Pendulum came an understanding: if the pendulum ceased its movement while being pointed in the direction of the monster, it would be destroyed. Nothing could save it; the Blessing drew on the power of the gods, and no mortal power could circumvent that.


    But if it stopped in Mathew¡¯s direction, he would suffer horrendous consequences. A backlash of power would occur, damaging not only his physical body but his connection to the Tower and the gods. He could lose Blessings, levels or even his Disciplines.


    Mathew watched the pendulum with a sense of disconnect as it slowly swung back and forth.


    When it reached the monster, he could feel the creature¡¯s body tremble as if it were on the verge of collapse. As it approached Mathew, it was accompanied by a feeling of dread and a vibration through the ephemeral link to the Tower.


    On and on, it went back and forth until it finally began to slow its movement through a world frozen by its power.


    Finally, the pendulum stopped moving as it hovered over the monster¡¯s head. Time resumed in an instant.


    The creature took another step forward, blinking in confusion, then collapsed into a pile of dust and ash.


    ¡°Well, that was anti-climactic.¡± Mathew said as he walked forward and sifted through the remains with his boot. The dust was fine, and each movement of his foot sent particles into the air. He let out a sigh of relief as the ¡®Buzz¡¯ faded; the danger had finally passed.


    At least for now.


    Mathew grinned widely, he still had some things left to do on this floor.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Ridley White watched as the monster charged into the mansion, shattering the locked doors and a large section of the wall in the process. It was a shame that he had used the vial on one of his bodyguards instead of one of the trained ¡®Thralls¡¯ his family kept in storage for this purpose.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    But it would be enough to kill this ¡®Champion¡¯ that his Concubine had found.


    Ridley wasn¡¯t sure what the syringe contained or how his family had obtained it, but they had hundreds of them contained in one of their vaults. He had stolen it a while ago after his father talked about the results on a Thrall they had recently killed.


    Ridley had been eager to test it out on someone but hadn¡¯t had the opportunity. There were always so many other things to distract himself, such as Lily Bartlett. He had so many plans for her, and he had just added a few more to the list.


    She needed to be taught a lesson to pay for her defiance.


    There was a loud roar from the mansion, followed by a series of explosions, and Ridley saw the top floor windows shatter in a spectacular fashion. It was truly marvellous, and he revelled in the destruction.


    Maybe he would take a few more vials and release them on the town. That would drive the boredom away for a while.


    ¡°Sir, we should get back to the palace. We might not be able to protect you here.¡± Another of his bodyguards spoke up, his voice fearful. They all knew what his family were capable of. If any harm came to Ridley, they would all suffer a fate worse than death.


    ¡°Idiots. Fine! Go and collect his head and bring it to me. I also want that ¡®Champion¡¯s¡¯ skin; I intend to make Lily a dress from it for the ceremony. Flay him properly and ensure it¡¯s in good condition.  Ridley ordered as he climbed back into the automobile and waited for it to pull away.


    Several of the guards ran into the building while the rest followed Ridley to the vehicles. Starting the car, they drove away just as another explosion rocked the mansion, and a flash of light lit up the night.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°A Champion, you say? Preposterous. There hasn¡¯t been a representative from the gods in Amalar for decades. Even if one were to visit, they would not come for anyone else¡¯s command but my son, Ridley.¡±


    A large, fat man dressed in a black suit under enough strain that the buttons were clinging on for dear life leaned back in his chair as he heard the report from his son¡¯s bodyguards. King Ryker of Amalar was really only a King in name.


    Amalar was a relatively small city-state that lacked the military and financial strength of those located on the continent. Still, while he may lack power compared to his peers abroad, in Amalar, his word was law.


    There was a council of course, made up of wealthy business owners and prominent citizens, but money was power in Amalar, and Ryker was the richest person in the country, as well as its head of state.  Hearing the report, he immediately dismissed it.


    Ridley joined him in their ¡®entertainment¡¯ room, where scantly clad women danced, musicians played in the corners, and buffet tables filled with food and drink took up most of the space. Ryker didn¡¯t leave this room unless there was an emergency, which was a rarity.


    Taking a drink of imported spirits from the continent, he turned to look at his son.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been cuckolded, son. That harlot needs a caning. Don¡¯t worry. Once that monster you created finishes his business, I¡¯ll send in the militia to kill it, and we¡¯ll have everything under control once more.¡± Ryker assured his son.


    Ridley ignored what his father was saying; instead, he played with another vial of that strange liquid that he had plucked from the family vault. Ryker was more than happy to supply him with whatever he wanted, but Ridley took a bit of pleasure in just taking things rather than asking for them.


    ¡°What will happen if I inject her with this?¡± Ridley asked, more thinking aloud than expecting a real answer.


    ¡°Marvelous idea, my boy. We¡¯ll say that Bartlett was trading in illicit substances and that this whole affair was their fault. They were looking to destroy us and all that. Truly, the apple doesn¡¯t fall far from the tree!¡± Ryker praised as he smiled at his son.


    They were interrupted by one of the palace guards rushing into the room, looking to be in a panic.


    ¡°Sir, we have a problem! We¡¯ve lost contact with the guards we sent to the Bartlett estate.¡± He reported, and Ryker waved him off.


    ¡°No matter! Send another twenty. No, wait, make it fifty! Show of force for the people. I want it broadcasted all across Amalar that we¡¯re keeping them safe! And make sure that when they¡¯ve killed that monster, to parade it through the streets. The people will love it!¡± Ryker said, praising himself for coming up with such a remarkable idea.


    ¡°Sir, we¡¯ve already sent fifty. We can¡¯t send any more people unless we pull in the militia. Otherwise, we won¡¯t have enough to guard the palace.¡± The guard explained.


    ¡°You already have? Good, that will take care of everything.¡± Ryker replied, clearly not understanding the situation. Just as the guard was about to repeat himself and provide further clarification, the palace walls shook violently.


    The food and drink table collapsed, sending items across the floor. The dancing women screamed in fear, and the musicians immediately stopped playing and dropped their instruments.


    ¡°What in the blazes was that!? How dare you stop dancing! Guards! Arrest these women for failing in their duties. You! Keep playing!¡± Ryker ordered.


    Ridley stopped toying with the vial and stood up. There were muffled screams and shouts coming from outside, followed by an eruption of gunfire.


    ¡°What is it? Did the creature follow us? Idiots, I told you to put it down!¡± Ridley asked the guard as the man was listening to a radio communicating the situation from outside.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­. a man? A single man is tearing through our defences, sir!¡±

 Chapter 182 – Floor 18: Part 7

    <u>Chapter 182</u> ¨C Floor 18: Part 7


    ¡°So that¡¯s it, huh? Kinda ostentatious, I would have gone for something more¡­unassuming and humble, but I guess I¡¯m just strange like that.¡± Mathew said to the floating Celestial spirit hovering just above his left shoulder.


    ¡°You Must Zatize Us¡±


    ¡°Not right now; I¡¯m in the middle of something. I think we should just go straight through the center; no time for dilly-dallying.¡± Mathew brushed aside the incomprehensible words that the spirit whispered; he had heard them for years and needed to be focused on what he had to do.


    Ridley White¡¯s home was easy to spot; it occupied the highest point of the island and had massive spotlights shining on its white exterior as if it were a beacon to draw the attention of the populace.


    Mathew stood on top of a building a mile or so away, studying the layout of the massive building carefully. There were guards everywhere he looked and a wrought iron fence that ringed the estate. A long driveway cut through the green lawns in front to reach the building directly.


    He let out a sigh. His leg was bothering him again.


    The potions he consumed to heal his wounds after fighting that monster earlier hadn¡¯t been able to do anything for the pain and stiffness in his leg. He wouldn¡¯t be able to move quickly during the approach, meaning he would need to absorb or deflect their bullets.


    ¡°Investiture of Lightning is out.¡± Mathew thought out loud. He didn¡¯t need the increase in speed that the Blessing brought if his leg wouldn¡¯t allow him to make use of it. Running his hand through his hair in frustration at his limitations, he reached into his inventory and pulled out the small statue of the Wyvern that was resting inside.


    ¡°Hey buddy, long time no see.¡± Mathew whispered as he set the statue down on the rooftop and stepped back. Funnelling some of his mana into it, the statue came to life and expanded until the Wyvern stood next to him, its head a few feet above his own.


    The creature looked around curiously at the sights of the town and sniffed the air tentatively. For an animated statue, it was surprisingly lifelike, and Mathew reached out and rested his hand gently on its head.


    ¡°Miss me?¡± He asked, but the Wyvern ignored him.


    ¡°Fine, be that way.¡± Mathew grumbled as he ran his hand along the smooth scales of its neck.


    ¡°I just need you to get me over the palace. There is no fighting for you today. I want to handle this personally. Besides, I don¡¯t know how bulletproof you are.¡± Mathew said to the creature as he patted it gently before mounting it. He didn¡¯t use ¡®Enlarge¡¯ to increase its size; he wanted to save all his mana for what was coming.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s make an entrance! Shock and awe!¡± Mathew shouted as the Wyvern took to the skies.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Anything to report?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, everything silent from the Bartlett estate. They were supposed to check in regularly, but we haven¡¯t heard a thing. Do you think something happened?¡± One of the guards asked another as they patrolled the perimeter of the estate near the fence.


    Both wore combat uniforms, black undersuits with white ballistic armour over them, helmets and assault rifles.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s probably a communications issue. We need to focus on-¡±


    A loud screeching sound cut through their voices, drowning out all sounds from around them. It came from directly above, and both guards immediately looked toward the sky. A strange beast was flying overhead, its shadow barely visible against the stars and the moon overhead.Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Shoot it down!¡± A shout came from another section of the compound, and both guards raised their rifles to take aim.


    ¡°Here we go! Investiture of Flame!¡± A voice boomed out from above, followed by the whistling noise of something moving at tremendous speed. Flames erupted from the falling object, a fire streak trailing behind it as it sped toward the ground.


    The object was a person, and everyone outside in the estate could hear it laughing madly as it descended.


    Mathew couldn¡¯t hear much over the sound of the wind, but the exciting feeling of freefalling made him barely notice the sounds of gunfire that were rising up to meet him. His skin was covered in flames, and he had used all of his Blessings to enhance his physical abilities to their limit.


    Behind him, the Wyvern circled once around the estate and flew away where it would rest on one of the nearby buildings for him to return.


    Mathew¡¯s landing was akin to a bomb detonating. An intense burst of light and fire rocketed into the air while the ground shook. A plume of smoke and dust obscured the stars, and the people guarding the estate fled in terror at the sudden attack.


    ¡°Might have overdone it a tad.¡± Mathew commented as he slowly stood and brushed the dust and dirt from his clothing. The suit was ruined; it had accumulated enough tears, holes and rips in the material that it was little better than the rags he had arrived in.


    Mathew himself was unharmed; his enhanced body from Alter Self and Investiture of Flame had protected him from the impact. He had left a crater in the street in front of the palace, the pavement had peeled back, and he had buried himself half a dozen feet below the ground and pushed back the dirt and soil.


    Mathew slowly emerged from the crater, his limp making him awkward and deliberate with each footstep in order to keep his balance on the loose soil. When he made it back to street level, he found the wrought iron gates of the palace twisted and tossed aside from the force of his arrival.


    ¡°Fire!¡± A voice commanded from a distance, and several spotlights immediately shone down on him from the nearby rooftops. Shielding his eyes from the sudden glare, Mathew heard a cacophony of gunfire erupt in all directions.


    Bullets impacted on the ground next to him with sharp cracks or whizzed by him. But many struck his body directly, and even with his Blessings, it felt like someone was punching him in the torso. Mathew almost lost his balance from the force, and he let out a grunt of irritation.


    Picking up the large, intricately carved gate that had a large ¡®W¡¯ worked on the front in gold, Mathew heaved it toward the palace. While it was in midair, he pointed at the flying piece of metal.


    ¡°Enlarge!¡± Pumping his mana into the Blessing, the gate expanded until it was the size of a house. It landed in the garden and shook the ground. It had the added effect of destroying a gun emplacement, and Mathew could see several of the guards fleeing before it hit.


    But there were more to replace them, and each step Mathew took felt like he was pushing against the wind.


    He responded with all of his Blessings.


    ¡°Breath of Dragons!¡± A swath of flames swept across the garden, burning white in intensity as it consumed the grass.


    ¡°Earthbind!¡± A half dozen guards were wrapped in golden tendrils, unable to flee or react. Mathew walked past them like they were not even there.


    ¡°Reduce!¡± Rifles became the size of toothpicks; concrete barriers shrank until they were only a foot tall.


    ¡°Word of Power: Break!¡± Again and again, he used the Word of Power to destroy weapons, defences, automobiles and large sections of walls. Anything that stood in his way was broken and shattered.  And through it all, Mathew continued to walk calmly.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°A single man is tearing through our defences, Sir!¡±


    ¡°What man? I told you to arrest these women! What are you waiting for!? Keep playing; I want music!¡± Ryker commanded, not understanding the severity of the situation. As he kept shouting, the doors to the entertainment room turned to dust, and a man with a limp strode through.


    ¡°Best you all leave now.¡± The man said as he looked around the room. The musicians took one glance and fled, followed closely by the scantly clad women. The guard was the last to flee, throwing down his gun and radio as he shouted that he quit.


    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s better. Nice and quiet.¡± Mathew said as he walked in and started to take a seat. Seeing that the large, half-dressed, fat man was about to speak, Mathew pointed at him.


    ¡°Earthbind. You¡¯ll speak when I tell you to. Now, Junior, hand over that syringe. I saw you tucking away inside your jacket, and I don¡¯t want things getting nasty.¡± Mathew ordered.


    Seeing Ridley hesitate as he was unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of commands, Mathew used the Righteous Aura of Subjugation to reinforce his command. Before Ridley could comprehend what was happening, Mathew was holding the vial of bright blue liquid with streaks of black in it.


    ¡°Sit.¡± Mathew ordered, and again, Ridley obeyed immediately.


    ¡°Good. Now, you¡¯re both going to tell me everything you know about this Aether.¡±

 Chapter 183 – Floor 18: Part 8

    <u>Chapter 183</u> ¨C Floor 18: Part 8


    Mathew rested his head in his hand while he listened to Ridley and his father continue to shout and threaten him. He had to admit that they were pretty creative when it came to threats, even building on each other''s suggestions in a new and imaginative way.


    Despite the pair being tightly bound by ¡®Earthbind¡¯ and oppressed by ¡®Righteous Aura of Subjugation,¡¯ neither of them wanted to offer any information about the vial of corrupted Aether that Mathew was holding.


    He could only assume that some higher power was allowing them to keep silent about the origins of the vial. Mathew did find an interesting tidbit about something called the ¡®Thralls.¡¯ Apparently, they were born and bred to make use of the contents within the syringe. They would transform into monsters but still obey their master¡¯s commands.


    Ridley White had just finished detailing what he would do with Mathew¡¯s flayed skin. Apparently, he wanted to fashion some sort of coat and hat combination with it. Hearing enough, Mathew finally stood up from his chair.


    ¡°Neither of you go anywhere; I¡¯ll be right back.¡± Mathew said needlessly, as neither could move until she released them. Passing through the pile of dust that had once been a door, Mathew wandered the hallways until he found what he was looking for.


    The spicy scent of Aether.


    It didn¡¯t take much further investigating to find a large, metal vault door near the basement of the palace. Similar to the bank vaults of Mathew¡¯s Earth, this one was no doubt made of thick steel, and only the proper combination could let someone open it.


    Or the right Word of Power.


    ¡°Break.¡± Mathew commanded, and the vault doors vibrated slightly as the Word of Power altered reality in response to his call. The doors shattered, spilling finely ground shards of metal flakes onto the ground that soon spread across the floor.


    Inside was a large room. Stacks of gold bars were in one corner, along with pallets of currency and bins filled with treasures, jewels and other riches. Mathew ignored all of the accumulated wealth and walked to the rear of the vault, where a glass cabinet filled with bright blue vials of liquid Aether was  held.


    Once his hand touched the handle of the cabinet, his silver wristband began to vibrate, and burning family words appeared in the air to his right.


    Item: Liquescent Aether (Contaminated)


    Summary: Through the use of an unknown manufacturing process, Crystallized Aether is transformed into a Liquescent state. One vial is equivalent to 10,000 Units of Aether.


    Contaminated with a foreign poison.


    Reward for finding more information regarding the source or process of refinement: The Word of Power: Burst.


    ¡°So not even the Tower is aware of what these things are and what poisoned them.¡± Mathew muttered as he lowered his arm and hid the burning letters. He had been hoping for an easy answer to the mystery, but it looked like he had an additional task on this Floor.


    There were nearly a hundred vials of Aether, each precisely the same. Taking an additional vial, he fitted it into another syringe and placed both in his inventory. Satisfied, Mathew walked out of the vault. Pointing behind him casually, he spoke another Word of Power.


    ¡°Burn.¡±


    Having destroyed the Aether and everything in the vault, Mathew returned to Ryker and Ridley with additional questions. The pair were still shouting angrily as he entered the room. Using his Aura, Mathew settled them down enough to ask his next question.


    ¡°Where are the Thralls?¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    It turns out that the Thralls weren¡¯t that far from the vault. Passing through a narrow corridor and down several flights of stairs, Mathew reached the ¡®Holding Pens.¡¯


    He wished he never went there.


    The Thralls were shackled in rows with iron bands around their ankles to keep them from roaming far, although Mathew doubted they had the motivation or willpower to move. They were as still as statues, their eyes listless and staring at nothing.


    There were dozens of them, men and women with pale skin and shaven heads. They wore rags and were completely silent. The burning words from the wristband appeared unbidden and unwanted as Mathew stared at these pitiful people.


    Thralls.


    Wretched humanity that are bred as incubators for the poisonous Aether. They will obey the commands  of the person they ¡®imprint.¡¯


    Abused and neglected, they are beyond help.


    Mathew felt an anger rise up with him, white-hot intensity that made him tremble. He turned around to look at the fat man, Ryker, who was looking at the crowd of prisoners with pride.


    ¡°It really is something, isn¡¯t it? They cost a fortune but are worth every penny. I don¡¯t have to worry about rebellions or uprisings, not with Thralls protecting me. Imprinted on me as soon as the deal was done!¡± Ryker bragged, unaware of how close Mathew was to killing him for his crimes.


    ¡°Where did you get them?¡± Mathew asked, his voice quiet and tone hard. To anyone who had spent time with him on the other Floors, they would immediately recognize it. It was how he sounded right before the killing started.


    ¡°They come from across the Northern Sea. Curious place; they worship some deity with a bizarre name. Depravity or some such.¡± Ryker replied. The fool was happy enough to talk about his purchase, thinking that Mathew had taken an interest in acquiring them.


    ¡°Mischievous Depravity.¡± Ridley added. He had walked toward one of the Thralls and was poking it in the ribs and face, trying to get a reaction from it. He could have been poking at the wall for all the response he got.


    Mathew knew the name; he had heard of that Deity before. It suddenly made sense why he had been sent to this Floor.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    You have learned valuable information regarding the source of Liquescent Aether (Contaminated).


    The gods are pleased by this discovery.


    You have been awarded the Word of Power: Burst.


    ¡°I guess we¡¯re done here.¡± Mathew said softly.


    He reached into his inventory and pulled out one of the syringes filled with corrupted Aether. Not hesitating, he plunged it into Ryker''s neck. Tossing the empty vial aside, he took out the other and walked toward the heedless Ridley.


    Once both were infected and writhing on the ground, Mathew watched dispassionately as Father and Son suffered the effects. They had done this to others, and likely worse if upstairs was any indication of their capabilities.


    Mathew waited until they began to change, losing their rationality and senses, before he pointed his finger at Ryker¡¯s head.


    ¡°Word of Power: Burst.¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Lily Bartlett paced around the large hotel room that her family was staying in. It was a penthouse suite on the top floor with three rooms, each with two large beds, one she was sharing with her younger sister.


    They were gathered in the living area of the suite, seated on couches as they listened to reports from the radio. It was broadcasting information regarding gunfire and violence at the palace, with people fleeing the scene and detailed accounts of fires and explosions.


    She knew that Mathew had reached the palace and was currently ¡®convincing¡¯ Ridley White to leave her alone. She just hoped that he was successful.


    As she was about to make another loop, there was a knock on the door, followed by a tall man entering. Mathew didn¡¯t look anything like the dashing and clean young man who had suddenly appeared to confront Ridley in her driveway.


    He was covered in dirt, soot and blood. His clothing that he had borrowed from her brother had large tears and holes in it, and his limp was worse than she recalled it being.


    Mathew looked tired, almost dead on his feet as he walked inside and nearly collapsed onto a couch after giving them a brief ¡®hello.¡¯ Leaning back in the soft cushioning, he closed his eyes in contentment.


    ¡°Well?¡± Lily asked expectantly.


    ¡°Well, what?¡± Mathew asked, not opening his eyes. Lily let out a disgruntled huff and nearly stomped her foot before recalling that Mathew was here to help her, and she should be grateful.


    But by the gods, was he frustrating!


    ¡°How did it go with Ridley White?¡± Lily¡¯s father interjected gently before Lily could respond. He gave her a warning look before turning his attention back to Mathew.


    ¡°He¡¯s dead. Father too. They won¡¯t be a problem anymore.¡± Mathew said nonchalantly, waving his hand as if to brush aside the issue. Lily¡¯s father turned white at the comment, and his lip trembled.


    ¡°Dead? By the gods, they¡¯ll blame us!¡± Lily¡¯s elder brother said as he stood from the couch and replaced Lily as the resident pacer, his movements quick as if he were a cornered animal.


    ¡°No, they won¡¯t. Plenty of people saw it was me, and believe me, they both deserved worse than that.¡± Mathew said, and Lily heard the anger in his tone.


    ¡°Besides, if anyone has a problem with it, they know where to find me.¡± Mathew finished, and Lily looked at him curiously.


    ¡°They will? Where are you going?¡± Lily asked. Mathew cracked open an eyelid and gave her a small grin.


    ¡°Where else? How¡¯s the food here?¡±


    The Bartletts had gained a guest, first in their hotel room and then in their home when the repairs were finally complete. It would be months before Mathew left, and when he did, it was not in the manner he expected.

 Chapter 184 – Floor 19: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 184</u> ¨C Floor 19: Part 1


    Mathew revelled in his time off.


    It reminded him of when he first graduated from Harvard and went to a resort in Mexico with Emily. The details were incredibly blurry, as so much of his past before the Tower was, but he could recall being comfortable and pampered. They had spent weeks eating and sleeping, swimming in the ocean and going on excursions.


    Now, Mathew slept in an oversized bed, showered in scalding hot water and ate until he was full to bursting on the best foods. It was paradise.


    There was fallout from his actions against Ridley and Ryker White, but he was far removed from them.


    The story of how he had fought his way through an army of people, bullets bouncing off his skin like some kind of superhuman had made its rounds, and no one was willing to confront him directly.


    When the ¡®police¡¯ showed up to talk to him, Mathew had bound them tightly with ¡®Earthbind¡¯ after they started getting aggressive and had the Wyvern carry them out. His reputation grew to the point that many called him a ¡®tyrant¡¯ or ¡®gangster¡¯ and expected him to control the city now that he had eliminated their ruler.


    Instead, his days of inaction led to confusion that only ended with Agatha White returning to Amalar. Ridley¡¯s mother had been overseas shopping when word had reached her of her son and husband¡¯s disappearance.


    Rallying her guard with promises of wealth, she had marched on the hotel Mathew was staying in with the intent of having him arrested and executed. Instead, Mathew had used ¡®Enlarge¡¯ on the Wyvern and sent it to scatter her small army while he relaxed.


    Things spiralled downwards for Agatha shortly after, and by the time Mathew walked into the Bartlett¡¯s newly repaired home, Amalar had removed her from power, and a new provisional government was installed. Democracy had come to their land, and it was all thanks to Mathew, who didn¡¯t care one whit about it.


    They had even tried to honour him with a medal, but Mathew hadn¡¯t shown up to the ceremony.


    But all good things come to an end, and for Mathew, his ¡®vacation¡¯ was interrupted by a familiar notification.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    Mathew was reclining in a chair, the radio was playing music, and he was nearly asleep when the noise rang out and his wristband vibrated.


    Letting out a resigned sigh, Mathew raised his wrist to read the message.


    Floor 18 ¨C A Damsel in Distress (Complete)


    Summary: Congratulations! You have successfully defended Lily Bartlett from the avaricious attentions of Ridley White.


    Reward: 500,000 Aether.


    Mathew smiled at the reward. He could finally buy decent equipment! 500,000 Aether wasn¡¯t a lot, not when compared to his earnings from some of the other Floors, but he was rather desperate for Aether at the moment, and every bit helped.


    Already imagining what he would spend it on, another notification soon replaced the existing message.


    The god of Sanctuary Retort is pleased with your actions and has requested your services. You will transition to the next Floor in 5. 4. 3.


    ¡°Wait! What? At least give me some time to change!¡± Mathew said as the countdown reached zero. He looked down at the bathrobe and white slippers and wished he had kept some extra clothes in his inventory.


    He was engulfed in light, and his body rose from the chair he was lying in. In the blink of an eye, he disappeared.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    When the servants arrived later in the day to check to see if he needed anything, they found the room empty, but no one had seen Mathew leave. Everyone could only attribute the mystery to Mathew¡¯s eccentricity.


    But Lily would always make sure to add Mathew, the Champion who had saved her, to her prayers.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew appeared in a flash of light above the pavement of a street in the middle of nowhere. He hovered in the air for a moment before whatever power was keeping him buoyant failed, and he dropped like a stone.


    Landing awkwardly on his slippered feet and favouring his good leg, Mathew looked around at where he had been deposited. It was nighttime, and electric streetlamps lighted the road at regular intervals. The street curved slightly as it pierced its way through a forest of leafy green trees.


    Mathew was completely alone as he stood on the pavement in his slippers and bathrobe.


    ¡°Great. Couldn¡¯t even give me time to put on underwear.¡± Mathew grumbled. He was about to pull up the ¡®Shop¡¯ and make some purchases when he was interrupted by an incoming message.


    Floor 19 ¨C A Devious Plot


    Summary: The god of Sanctuary Retort has commanded you to investigate the matter of Liquescent Aether being processed and poisoned by Mischievous Depravity. Travel to the factory nearby, discover the truth and destroy all traces of its production.


    Reward: Attribute increase: Body +1, Spirit +1


    ¡°Shit.¡± Mathew uttered as he read the summary. He wanted nothing to do with Mischievous Depravity or any of its plots. He had enough trouble with that god in the past, and any further encounters with it would cause nothing but problems.


    Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t have any choice. For some reason, Sanctuary Retort was using him to investigate the poisoned Aether vials. Mathew wasn¡¯t sure what about him made that god think he was equipped to do this, but he¡¯d just have to go along with it.


    ¡°First thing¡¯s first.¡± Mathew said as he pulled up the ¡®Shop.¡¯ Thankfully, the items inside had been refreshed, and he could afford a few articles of clothing. He started with underwear, enchanted for increased durability, followed by blue jeans and a shirt that did the same.


    He added a long, black jacket that was lasting, nearly indestructible and resistant to fire. After topping up on potions and buying a pair of sturdy, magical boots, Mathew was completely out of Aether to spend.


    Returning to a state of destitution, he closed the ¡®Shop,¡¯ picked a direction, and started walking. A celestial spirit followed silently in his wake, flitting in and out of existence as it whispered.


    ¡°You Must Zatize Us¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    After more than an hour of walking down the road, seeing nothing but trees on all sides and the occasional streetlamp to light the night, Mathew arrived at a small town.


    It was utterly deserted.


    The houses and businesses all had boarded-up windows; their doors were closed, the painted exteriors faded and unmaintained, the lawns unkempt and overgrown. There were abandoned cars left on the street and in driveways, their tires flat and metal surfaces rusted.


    The crunching sound of Mathew¡¯s boots on the gravel that had accumulated over the pavement echoed throughout the silent and empty town. There was no one in sight, no signs indicating what had happened or even where this town was located.


    ¡°Not eery at all.¡± Mathew muttered as he looked around. The road ended with a line of concrete barriers and caution tape that had been overrun with weeds. After wandering around for a few minutes, he found a dirt road that led into the forest.


    ¡°Sanctuary Retort couldn¡¯t have dropped me closer?¡± Mathew complained as he made his way down the path. It twisted and turned through the trees but was wide and flat enough that automobiles and trucks could have easily made it.


    When the first hint of light appeared on the horizon, Mathew heard something approaching from the path behind him. Curious but cautious, he stepped back into the forest and observed. A large truck with crates stacked in the box drove slowly up the path, its headlights shining brightly.


    The driver was a man wearing a mask, a simple black piece of cloth that covered the lower half of his face and attached by loops behind his ears. Mathew could hear the radio playing inside through the truck''s open windows.


    Mathew caught a good look at the crates in the back as it passed. They were made of wood, with ¡®Fragile¡¯ on the side and a large symbol he recognized.


    Biohazard.


    ¡°Bingo.¡± Mathew whispered as the truck disappeared around the bend. He moved back onto the road and followed it as quickly as his bad leg would let him. He briefly considered using the Wyvern but dismissed the thought. He wasn¡¯t sure what was ahead and didn¡¯t want to risk being spotted above the trees.


    The road widened, and Mathew saw a chain link fence; the gate on wheels was just beginning to close after the truck passed through. There were guards dressed in military uniforms and holding automatic rifles in their hands. Their faces were covered in masks as well, the same as the drivers.


    The factory was a large, warehouse-like structure made of concrete and metal. There were multiple buildings ringing it, separated by well-maintained roads and green lawns. He could see people coming and going all around the factory, with more trucks and forklifts moving crates and equipment.


    But a line of people waiting patiently under the watchful eyes of a few guards caught Mathew¡¯s attention. Their heads were shaven, and they were dressed in white medical gowns. They were shackled to each other with iron bands around their ankles.


    ¡°Thralls.¡± Mathew said with disgust.

 Chapter 185 – Floor 19: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 185</u> ¨C Floor 19: Part 2


    Mathew observed the factory from a distance for hours, sheltered by the forest that surrounded it. The thick and lush foliage made the perfect screen as he sat watching the place from the comfort of a moss-covered log.


    He could see that there were hundreds of people guarding the place, with thousands of thralls being lined up, assessed and counted, then marched inside. It seemed like there was a steady flow of people coming and going in a semi-orderly fashion, with guards on hand to handle any problems.


    Unfortunately, he couldn¡¯t get much more information standing around in the woods.


    Mathew hadn¡¯t been sure where the thralls were coming from or if there was even Aether on site when some of his many questions were answered.


    Another truck arrived around noon, and Mathew saw that it was different from the others. It didn¡¯t have wooden crates in the back. Instead, it was covered in a large tarp. After being waved through the gate by the pair of guards, it stopped in the courtyard and unloaded its cargo.


    They were people.


    Men, women and children dressed in civilian clothing were forcefully removed from the back of the truck by the guards, who led them into a large tent nearby. Mathew waited as they disappeared inside, only to reappear a few minutes later with their heads shaven and their clothing replaced by the white gowns of the thralls.


    These people didn¡¯t go willingly; there were screams and shouting. Children cried, and parents fought against their captors desperately to reach their families, only to be assaulted for trying. Several were beaten and dragged away, where Mathew could faintly hear gunshots after they disappeared from sight.


    There was no doubt in Mathew¡¯s mind regarding the fate of those poor, unfortunate souls.


    ¡°They¡¯re taking people from the towns.¡± Mathew guessed, making the connection between the empty town nearby and the people being removed from the truck.


    How many people had been taken? Were there more towns like the one he had passed through?


    He had enough. Mathew may have been hardened to violence and cruelty, but he wasn¡¯t a monster. He couldn¡¯t sit around and watch while innocent people suffered. Besides, the answers he needed were inside the factory walls.


    Mathew didn¡¯t want to spend any more time in the woods; he wanted to move onto the next Floor, and that meant going inside.


    Leaving the woods, he strode down the road in broad daylight as if he were on a leisurely stroll. His boots crunched loudly on the gravel road, and he made no effort to conceal himself.


    The guards spotted him immediately. After sharing a look, they raised their rifles.


    ¡°Halt! Don¡¯t come any closer, or we will shoot!¡± The one on the right said.


    ¡°Whoa, hold on! Good Afternoon! I was just looking for directions!¡± Mathew lied. He slowed his footsteps and held his arms out to his side non-threateningly.


    ¡°See, I was out camping, and I got turned around. I figured I¡¯d just follow this road until I reached civilization. I don¡¯t suppose either of you could tell me where I am?¡± Mathew asked, and one of the guards reached over to press the radio button.


    ¡°Sir, we have someone at the front gate.¡± Mathew listened while a few words were exchanged. Mathew thought he might be able to get a little closer when he heard a response on the radio.


    ¡®Eliminate them.¡¯ It said. The guard immediately released the radio and shouldered his rifle. Seeing the hostile action, Mathew smiled in anticipation of violence. He shouldn¡¯t have even bothered to try anything else, it was easier to just start fighting right from the start.


    ¡°Earthbind.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Tendrils of yellow light rose up from the ground and wrapped their way around the two guards, pinning them into place and tightening them to the point where neither could move. Their weapons were secured to their bodies, harmlessly pointing down.


    Lowering his arms, Mathew walked closer to the two guards.


    ¡°Now that things are calmer, I¡¯m going to ask you both some questions, and I want-¡± Mathew was cut off as there was a shout from within the compound, followed by the crack of a gun firing. A bullet streaked through the air and pierced the chest of the guard on Mathew¡¯s left before hitting Mathew in the chest.


    Spinning around from the force of the bullet impact, Mathew fell to the ground as his right leg was unable to support his weight. There were more loud cracks of gunfire, and dirt sprayed across his body. The remaining guard was struck in the leg, and the ¡®Earthbind¡¯ Blessing released, dropping the screaming man onto the ground.


    ¡°Son of a bitch!¡± Mathew cursed as he regained his feet and began to awkwardly run toward the gate''s closed chainlink fence. He was struck three more times, but his ¡®Alter Self ¨C Thick Skin¡¯ Blessing kept him from getting grievously injured.


    He would have bruises, and it hurt like hell, but unless it struck him in the head or neck, he would be alright. At least he was far enough away that their aim was terrible. They were relying more on quantity over quality with their bullets.


    ¡°Reduce!¡± Mathew shouted, pointing at the gate, which immediately shrunk in size and toppled over as the mechanism connecting it to the fence popped loose. Scrambling through, he used a small guard post next to the interior of the gate for cover.


    ¡°I really need some kind of shield Blessing.¡± Mathew muttered as he peeked his head over the wooden wall of the guard post and looked around the compound. Soldiers and guards were running toward him, and he spotted several large vehicles speeding closer.


    Alarms began to blare, and he could hear more shouting along with a cacophony of gunfire. Clearing his throat, Mathew yelled out from behind his cover.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you all a chance to surrender!¡± Mathew bellowed generously, but the only response was another barrage of gunfire that ripped through the guard post and caused Mathew to duck back down out of sight.


    ¡°Fine! Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you!¡± Mathew screamed as he leapt to his feet.


    Time seemed to drag in the same manner as his bad leg as he slowly made his way around the wooden wall of the guard post. The Celestial Spirits, his ever-present companions over the years since he had first learned the Words of Power, seemed to exude anticipation for what he was about to do.


    It was strange; the sounds of gunfire seemed suddenly muted. He was aware of it, the spray of dirt and splinters of wood from the impacts all around him, the flashes of light and fire from the muzzles of the rifles and pistols.


    But the world was utterly quiet until his voice broke the silence. Behind him, the Celestials appeared to delight in his actions. He could feel their jubilation through the strange connection the Words of Power forged between them.


    ¡°Word of Power: Burst.¡± Mathew whispered, his voice clear and distinct in the discord of battle. He directed the energy of the Word, and reality accompanied his calling.


    The head of the nearest soldier bulged grotesquely, and everyone around him halted what they were doing and turned to look. It doubled in size and became nearly purple in colour before it burst apart.


    It reminded Mathew of his youth, a sudden image of a crystal clear memory. Mysteriously, most of his memories of his time in school were gone, completely replaced by new recollections of his travels in the Tower. But this image remained.


    He and his classmates had played a prank on one of their substitute teachers. Mathew had filled a balloon with water and had hidden it behind the door for her to enter. Mathew had thrown it over her head when she stood in front of the class from where he was hiding.


    That image of the balloon busting was juxtaposed with the current state of the headless soldier as the Word of Power burst his skull like a balloon. Red blood sprayed in all directions, covering the other guards and soldiers.


    They were stunned by the sudden occurrence of magical death amongst their number and were utterly unprepared as Mathew continued the assault. These people were monsters, no different than any of the others he had hunted or killed in the past Floors.


    They were responsible for taking people and turning them into the mindless Thralls he had seen, nothing but fodder for the poisoned Aether to transform.


    These people deserved what happened to them.


    ¡°Word of Power: Burn!¡± Flames leapt from one body to the next, white-hot flames that seared flesh and could not be extinguished no matter how hard they tried.


    ¡°Word of Power: Break!¡± Weapons crumbled, vehicles were destroyed, and entire sections of the compound were reduced to dust.


    But Mathew wasn¡¯t finished. He used all of his Blessings to kill and destroy until he was close enough that the Wrathful Blade made an appearance. Even with his bad leg, Mathew was capable of using the sword.


    The keen edge of the impossibly heavy weapon sliced into the reinforced amour of a vehicle like a hot knife through butter, made even sharper by the Blessing ¡®Investiture of Flames¡¯ that coated the edge. The Wrathful Blade lacked a point, having been designed as an executioner''s sword, but that suited Mathew just fine.


    Swing it wildly, he hewed down his opponents.


    By the time he had made it to the factory doors, there was nothing but destruction and bodies in his wake. Covered in blood, both his own and others, and panting from the exertion, Mathew entered the Factory.


    It was time he discovered the secret of the Liquescent Aether.

 Chapter 186 – Floor 19: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 186</u> ¨C Floor 19: Part 3


    The heavy iron door of the factory closed behind him with a clang, sealing him inside and cutting off the outside world. Mathew stood on a metal staircase that led down into the facility; the distant noise of whirling machinery muffled his footsteps as he descended.


    The air smelled like metal and oil mixed with Aether. It grew stronger the further he went, and Mathew could hear screaming in the distance; the shrill cries echoed off the walls, and he couldn¡¯t determine where they were coming from.


    Reaching the concrete floor at the bottom of the staircase, Mathew made his way around large metal vats with tubes rising from the top. He could hear something bubbling inside, like fermented beer vats in a brewery.


    They ran to the ceiling and down the length of the building. Curious as to what they were for and where they travelled, Mathew followed them until he came to a large, open section.


    Rounding a corner, he quickly ducked behind a vat as he saw a long line of people dressed in white gowns and shackled in a row. There were more guards with guns pointed at the prisoners, but it was what Mathew saw at the front of the line that made him hide.


    There was a massive creature taking up a large section of the factory. It was so large that Mathew couldn¡¯t see how it could move. It reminded Mathew of a blob made of flesh; its body was grotesque and wet. Multiple limbs protruded from its fat torso, and dozens of arms were gripping the heads of some of the prisoners who were the source of the screaming he had heard.


    Its face was inhuman and monstrous; it lacked eyes or a nose, just an enormous mouth sucking in air as it occasionally let out a moan of pleasure. He could hear the wind whistling as it sped toward the monster, and it would occasionally smack its lips wetly.


    The tubes that ran from the vats were connected to the rear of the creature, and Mathew saw that a light vapour was rising from the gripped heads of the prisoners.


    Aether.


    The creature was somehow sucking Aether from the prisoners from their heads and inhaling it through its mouth. He could see blue lines running through its pale flesh as it processed the Aether into a liquid form and expelled it through the tubes where it would be collected in the vats.


    Mathew gagged in disgust at the sight of the monster and what it was doing to the prisoners. The air here reeked of Aether; it was cloying and thick. The monster''s body dripped with sweat and mucus, and several guards had been assigned to mop it up off the concrete.


    Mathew¡¯s wristband began vibrating, and he hid deeper behind the metal vat as he read the message.


    Floor 19 ¨C A Devious Plot (Updated)


    Summary: You have discovered the source of Liquescent Aether and the means through which it is processed. The creature you have found is an Aberration, an artificially mutated being with the sole purpose of processing Liquescent Aether from the local population.


    Those who are subjected to its touch are transformed into ¡®Thralls,¡¯ soulless beings incapable of disobeying their master¡¯s commands or recovering their lost humanity.


    Liquescent Aether is many times more potent than normally accumulated means of gathering Aether. It was the hope of the locals to purchase potent Blessings and favours from Mischievous Depravity in exchange for such a powerful source of Aether.


    Put these pitiful wretches out of their misery and burn the factory to the ground.


    Sanctuary Retort is pleased with your discovery. Mischievous Depravity has been temporarily blocked from interfering in this plane of existence. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Reward: Attribute increase: Body +1, Spirit +1


    ¡°Finally, the gods and I agree on something.¡± Mathew whispered as he closed the message. Anyone who could do this to their own people deserved whatever happened to them. He¡¯d have no trouble sleeping after he murdered the whole lot of them, starting with whatever that monster was.


    Walking out from behind the metal vat, Mathew raised his hand and pointed at the massive creature.


    ¡°Disintegrate.¡±


    The pendulum made of green mana appeared, and with it returned came the sensation of time halting for Mathew. He could feel it swinging back and forth as it consumed his mana. Each swing of the pendulum would shake reality, sending tremors through his body and soul.


    To his surprise, the spirits of the Celestials seemed unaffected by the pendulum''s effects. They continued to flit in and out of existence, observing both him and those around him. They seemed to be taking extra interest in the massive monster in front of him for some reason.


    It wasn¡¯t that out of the ordinary; he had seen the Celestials take interest in other powerful beings in the past.


    The pendulum finally began to slow, and for a moment, Mathew thought it was about to stop in his direction. It creaked and groaned as if a hidden mechanism within were turning, but it eventually swung back and stopped directly in front of the monster.


    Time resumed its endless march, and with it came the effects of his ¡®Disintegrate¡¯ Blessing. Before the guards could turn to confront him, or the creature could react to his attack, a streak of green light flew from Mathew¡¯s hand and struck the monster.


    The green mana quickly engulfed its flesh, leaving nothing but dust behind. In the time it took for Mathew to lower his hand, half of the massive monster was gone, and the guards erupted in shouts and action.


    Bullets flew toward him, striking the ground and the metal vats around him as the prisoners tried to hobble away from the fighting, their movements hindered by their shacked legs.


    Not willing to let any of the people responsible for this to leave, Mathew cycled the mana in his chest and through his lungs. Pulling in a huge breath of air, he held it for a moment as the Blessing charged it, before breathing out.


    ¡®Breath of Dragons.¡¯ Mathew thought silently as he spewed out acidic air from his lungs. The greenish vapour washed over the ground, etching the concrete and metal of the vats. When it struck the nearest guards, it ate away at their flesh and the guns in their hands.


    Taking another breath, Mathew spewed more acidic breath at the cluster of guards, driving them back as the monster disintegrated into dust. Using the moment of freedom from gunfire, Mathew approached the line of prisoners and pointed at the chains linking them together.


    ¡°Enlarge!¡±


    The chains doubled in size, and the shackles fell to the ground in multiple, loud clangs.


    ¡°Run!¡± Mathew urged them, grabbing the nearest person and shoving them toward the rear of the factory where he had just entered. Soon, they were all running as the guards finally surged forward through the dissipated acidic air.


    ¡°Gods damn it, I really need a shield!¡± Mathew cursed as he pulled out the Wrathful Blade and ran forward as swiftly as his bad leg would let him. He needed to close the distance and buy time for the prisoners to escape.


    Swinging the sword, he drove the guards back while the prisoners ran. After a few moments, they were clear, and he could finally get to work.


    ¡®Breath of Dragons!¡¯ Mathew thought, this time spewing oily flames in every direction. In only a couple of minutes, the entire factory was engulfed in flames. The superheated vat would occasionally explode in a great gout of blue flame as the Liquescent Aether within caught fire and burst.


    Job complete, Mathew began to run up the stairs as fast as he could. He stumbled and fell several times as the ground shook from the detonating vats. By the time he dashed through the door leading outside, flames were rushing up the stairwell and out into the exterior of the building.


    Panting from exhaustion and pain from his injured leg, Mathew stumbled down the compounds courtyard to the same gate watchhouse he had sheltered behind a little while ago. Leaning against the wooden wall that was punctured by bullet holes, he slid onto the ground and tried to catch his breath.


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re happy, Sanctuary Retort.¡± Mathew muttered, but the only response was another explosion, so strong that one of the factory walls collapsed.


    Ding!


    Floor 19 ¨C A Devious Plot (Complete)


    Summary: You have destroyed the processing center of Liquescent Aether and freed the prisoners within. With their escape, the story of what was happening here will spread, ensuring that nothing like this will happen again.


    The god of Sanctuary Retort is incredibly pleased with your actions.


    The god of Mischievous Depravity is pleased with your actions.


    Reward: Attribute increase: Body +1, Spirit +1


    As new strength entered his body from the rewards and his connection with the Tower and its gods grew stronger from his enhanced Spirit, Mathew couldn¡¯t help but think about the notification.


    Why would the god of Mischievous Depravity be pleased that he destroyed the factory? Shouldn¡¯t it be pissed that he interfered with its plans and stopped it from gaining such a valuable product like Liquescent Aether?


    It was a thought that stuck with him as he was engulfed in white light.

 Chapter 187 – Floor 20: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 187</u> ¨C Floor 20: Part 1


    Mathew appeared in a hotel room, instantly recognizable by the cookie-cutter design familiar to anyone in North America. A beige carpet, a king-sized bed, and a small wooden desk occupied the room. A small bathroom with a shower and toilet was just off to the side.


    ¡°I¡¯m home.¡± Mathew muttered as he slowly explored the room. When he reached the desk, he stopped. There was a flat-screen television, a technology that he hadn¡¯t experienced in decades. Tentatively, he reached out and touched the ¡®on¡¯ button.


    ¡°Welcome to the Stardust Illusion Hotel and Casino on the beautiful Las Vegas Strip! Enjoy our world-class spa, our two-star Michelin Rated Restaurant located on the main floor and our Casino, now open twenty-four-¡± Mathew tuned out what the commercial was saying after staring at the moving images on the screen for a moment.


    He was in Las Vegas! A modern-day Las Vegas, not some fantasy Earth without electricity or one ruled by kings and queens. Not a world inhabited by ferocious monsters or creatures intent on killing him. He was on a normal Earth!


    Maybe this was possibly his own Earth! Mathew was about to rush to the landline phone next to the bed and dial the operator in the hope they could connect him to his parents in New York, when he paused.


    ¡°What a second¡­calm down and think for a moment. Do you honestly think the gods would bring you back to your own Earth after everything they¡¯ve done to you? Why would they do that?¡± Mathew whispered as he retracted his hand from the phone receiver.


    ¡°Right, I need to know more about this world before I waste time looking for people who probably aren¡¯t even on this floor.¡± Mathew looked around for a moment before locating a magazine on the desk. On the cover was a group of performers advertising their ¡®Amazing Acrobatics Show¡¯, which was only available at the Stardust Illusion Hotel.


    Flipping through the pages, Mathew walked to the closed curtains of his room and peeked outside. It was nighttime, the Las Vegas strip was brightly lit, and he could see people walking down the sides of the street while cars travelled back and forth below.


    He was on one of the higher floors with a great view of the other hotels. The Stardust Illusion looked like a smack dab in the middle of the strip as the street stretched in both directions. But Mathew couldn¡¯t see the familiar casinos and hotels he vaguely remembered from television and movies when he was on his Earth.


    He couldn¡¯t remember the name of one, but he recalled it had a large fountain in the front that would put off shows, and there was another that was white and named after some famous Roman. But as he stared out the window, he couldn¡¯t find either.


    There was a neon purple hotel that looked like a palace out of medieval Europe and another that was blindingly bright in the darkness, with a shiny fa?ade and large towers that curled like a soft serve, multicoloured ice cream cone.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting the impression this isn¡¯t my Earth.¡± Mathew said dejectedly. He came to that conclusion after reading through the shows available on the strip and did not recognize a single name. Apparently, a singer was in residence that was incredibly famous, having sold hundreds of millions of albums, but Mathew had never heard of her before.


    He threw the magazine onto the couch, and idly flipped through the television channels, and again, he had no idea what any of these shows were. Even the sports channels were showing strange events, like people racing chariots in a coliseum and jousting.


    With horses! There were cameras recording it, and people were watching it while using cell phones, but the sports used old-fashioned armour and horses!


    ¡°This is definitely not my Earth.¡± After watching a man in armour fall off his horse after being struck by a lance with a large corporate logo on the side. Frustrated, Mathew turned off the TV and threw the remote onto the bed next to him.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The elation he felt at being somewhere that resembled his home was wearing off quickly, and at that point, his wristband began to vibrate.


    Floor 20: A City of Sin


    Summary: Las Vegas, the City of Sin, is where any pleasure can be found or any item procured if you possess the means to purchase it. It is a city that only truly comes alive when the sun sets, where people from all corners of the map converge to exchange objects, ideas, or, in some cases, bodily fluids.


    Gamble away all that you own, or perhaps become rich beyond your wildest dreams. Anything is possible in Las Vegas, a City under the watchful gaze of the god of Arbitrary Fortune. Be careful in this place, for no one desires to be on the wrong side of fortune.


    The god of Ubiquitous Exchange has requested your assistance in conducting a business transaction. Collect the briefcase from the vault beneath Stardust Illusion and attend the Auction.


    Reward: Blessing ¨C Decoy (Lvl 1)


    Decoy: Create a lifelike simulacrum of the user who will draw attention to itself. It is unable to defend from attack and will be destroyed after sustaining damage.


    This Blessing can be upgraded via the Shop.


    ¡°Business transaction? What kind of purchase requires someone from the Tower to complete it?¡± Mathew wondered as he lowered his arm. While he was considering the message, the phone on the table next to the bed rang.


    Cautiously, Mathew picked up the receiver.


    ¡°Hello?¡± He asked tentatively, unsure who would contact him or even know he was in the room. He had just suddenly appeared here, after all.


    ¡°Mr. Larson? This is Katie from the Front Desk. I¡¯m calling to inform you that the item your company sent via courier has arrived, and we have placed it in our vault as per their instructions. You can come down to the lobby to collect it at any time. Thank you for staying at the Stardust Illusion Hotel and Casino!¡±


    ¡°Umm.. thanks?¡± Mathew replied. He heard a ¡®you¡¯re welcome¡¯ and the line ¡®clicked¡¯ and went dead. Placing the receiver back on the cradle, Mathew stood up from where he was half lying on the bed and adjusted his jacket.


    He was grateful that he hadn¡¯t bought armour and could at least blend in a bit. His items were magical, but no one would notice unless they knew what they were looking for.


    ¡°Well, since I don¡¯t have any money, I¡¯ll get this over with, and hopefully, Ubiquitous Exchange will leave me a few bucks to get something to eat.¡± Mathew said as he walked out of his room. Finding the elevators at the end of the hall, he pressed the ¡®down¡¯ button and waited for the doors to open.


    A couple joined him after a few moments, a middle-aged man and woman wearing suits and dresses. They were clearly ready for a night on the town. They were whispering to each other in voices just loud enough for Mathew to make out what they were saying.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to be late.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it; we¡¯ll get something to eat and hit the tables. I can feel my luck turning around; this is going to be my night!¡±


    ¡°I hope so because that¡¯s the only luck you''re going to have tonight if I miss the show!¡±


    Mathew chuckled silently at the argument as the elevator doors opened, and they all filed in. Pressing the button ¡®L¡¯ for the lobby, he leaned against the side and rested his bad leg for a moment.


    The lobby of the Stardust Illusion was incredible. It was filled with people, and music could be heard during the conversation. But it was the lights and holograms that really drew the eye. The hotel¡¯s namesake, ¡®illusions¡¯ lit the ceiling, showing off stars, planets and all sorts of other images.


    Mathew marvelled at what they had created; even without magic, it was impressive. A dragon flying in the air, a construction made of light and smoke, roared loudly over the sound system. People were standing around and watching it, occasionally clapping at a particular splendid illusion.


    ¡°Not bad.¡± Mathew remarked, nodding his head.


    He soon made his way to the front counter, his outfit and appearance blending in with the crowd enough that he didn¡¯t stand out.


    There was a young woman in a uniform standing behind the counter, and she smiled at him as he approached. He saw a red nametag on her chest: ¡®Katie.¡¯


    ¡°Hello, Sir. How can I help you this evening?¡± She asked, and Mathew leaned against the counter slightly to take the weight off his right leg. The short walk had caused it to ache a bit.


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m Mathew Larson. We just spoke on the phone. I believe there¡¯s a package for me in the vault.¡± Mathew replied, and the young woman typed something into her computer.


    ¡°Ah, of course Mr. Larson! I can take you down to the vault right away; I just need to confirm your identity.¡±  She answered, but Mathew was at a loss for a moment.


    ¡°Ah, ID? I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have anything like that on me at the moment.¡± Mathew responded. Katie smiled and shook her head.


    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary; just place your hand on the pad.¡± She explained, pointing at a small screen that rested on the countertop next to her. Mathew reached out and placed his hand on the pad, not expecting it to work.


    This wasn¡¯t his world, after all.

 Chapter 188 – Floor 20: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 188</u> ¨C Floor 20: Part 2


    The glass pad felt cold to the touch as Mathew held his hand on top of it for a moment. He doubted anything would happen; the scanner couldn¡¯t very well identify him if he wasn¡¯t from this world. But, to his surprise, a light flashed green at the top of the pad, and Katie smiled from behind the desk.


    ¡°Thank you, Mr. Larson. When it comes to valuables held in our guest vault, we can never be too sure. Please, follow me.¡± She said while directing his attention to a closed door just off to the side of the desk.


    Stepping out from behind the counter, she used a keycard to open the door and held it for him.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Mathew said politely as he followed her through the door and through a narrow hallway. Mathew could hear the sounds of the lobby fade away, replaced by a silence that spoke of thick walls and soundproofing.


    They passed through another set of doors, these ones much thicker than the others and through a vestibule with several guards watching monitors before they reached their destination.


    The vault was open when they arrived; no doubt one of the guards had radioed ahead to warn them of their arrival, and Mathew was greeted with rows of sealed lockboxes that no doubt held the personal belongings of guests deemed important enough for extra security.


    There was another employee waiting for them in the vault, a man in a black suit standing in front of a stainless steel table with a briefcase on top. Made of back leather, it had brass latches and was embossed with a symbol that Mathew was unfamiliar with.


    ¡°Here you are, Mr. Larson. Would you prefer to confirm the contents privately?¡± Katie asked, but Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary; I¡¯m sure it¡¯s all here.¡± Mathew replied, still having no clue what was in the case or who had left it for him. Did Ubiquitous Exchange have agents on this Floor to make deliveries? If that was so, why in the hell did a god need him to attend an auction?


    Still full of questions, Mathew undid the latches and flipped the lid of the briefcase open. Inside, where he had expected stacks of bills or maybe gold bars, was a piece of artwork. Even as someone who didn¡¯t follow art, Mathew recognized it immediately.


    The Mona Lisa looked up at him in the bright, harsh light of the vault. Her small smile seemed like a smirk to Mathew, as if she was amused by the predicament he was in. The painting was pristine and set in a small, simple wooden frame.


    He hurriedly closed the lid before anyone else could notice.


    ¡°Yup, all here alright.¡± Mathew stammered out quickly, taking a peek at the two other people. Neither Katie nor the guard reacted to the contents of the briefcase or his strange actions.


    ¡°Wonderful, if you are ready?¡± Katie asked him, gesturing toward the vault door.


    ¡°Sure. Hey, I¡¯m looking to attend an auction. Is there one happening around here?¡± Mathew hurriedly asked as the pair exited the vault and returned to the lobby.


    ¡°Of course, Mr. Larson. Your company has everything arranged for this evening. Your private bidding room is on the fifteenth floor and is ready for you. The auction starts at 8 pm, and you can place any items you wish to place at the auction with the auctioneer.¡± Katie explained.


    ¡°Great, thanks¡­.you wouldn¡¯t happen to have the time?¡± Mathew asked after he realized he wasn¡¯t wearing a watch. He recalled he used to own a Rolex, but that was decades ago.


    ¡°It¡¯s currently 7:35, Mr. Larson.¡±


    ¡°Shit! Gotta go!¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    While Mathew was riding the elevator back up to the fifteenth floor, his wristband began to vibrate.


    A Simple Business Transaction.


    The god of Ubiquitous Exchange requires you to purchase the Crown of Lamentation, using the item in your possession to bid for it. After obtaining the Crown, place it into your inventory to complete your task.


    ¡°Sounds simple enough.¡± Mathew muttered sarcastically as he lowered his arm after reading the message. No Floor was ever simple, and no transaction that required someone like him to carry it out could be anything but extremely complicated and dangerous.


    The elevator let out a ¡®ding¡¯ as it arrived on the 15<sup>th</sup> Floor of the Stardust Illusion Hotel and Casino. Getting off the elevator, he reached a large foyer filled with people waiting in line in front of a skywalk, a bridge connecting Mathew''s building with another one across the street.


    The Skywalk was lit in blue and completely made of glass. There were employees standing in front of it, speaking to people before they could walk across. Everyone was clothed in suits and dresses, making Mathew underdressed for the event.


    ¡°Hello, Sir, may I help you?¡± An attendant came up to him wearing a black and white suit and holding a tablet computer in his hand. Mathew must have drawn their attention from his outfit and large briefcase.


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m here for the auction. I¡¯m supposed to have a room or something.¡± Mathew responded, unsure of what he was supposed to do now. The attendant looked at him doubtfully for a moment before holding out the tablet with the screen facing upright.


    ¡°If you would place your hand here?¡± The attendant asked politely. Having done this before, Mathew put his palm on the tablet and waited for a second. It lit green and let out a small sound.


    ¡°My apologies, Sir. I wasn¡¯t aware you were a VIP member. Please, right this way.¡± The attendant said and led him forward. Bypassing the line, they were soon crossing the sky bridge, and Mathew marvelled at the view.


    The glass had some enhancement or technology that changed what he was seeing. For a moment, it was the Las Vegas skyline and the strip below him. Then, there were beautiful green vistas and oceans, and then a beach.


    ¡°Through this door, Sir.¡± The attendant said, directing Mathew through a door to the right after they crossed the bridge. Climbing a flight of steps, they passed through another hallway lined with doors on the left before the attendant slid a card into a reader and unlocked a door.


    ¡°Here is your room, Sir. If you have anything to auction, you may inform the auctioneer inside, and they will scan the item. For security reasons, we require you to hold onto items until purchases are complete. We hope you have a pleasant evening.¡± The attendant gave him a small bow and then left him alone.


    The room was small, with a couch, some chairs and a bar stacked with an assortment of drinks and snacks. One entire wall of the room was a black screen with the logo of the Stardust Illusion Hotel and Casino displayed.


    Mathew set the cast down on a small table and made his way over to the bar. He didn¡¯t know what he was expecting when he came here, maybe a giant auditorium with someone on a stage while people shouted bids?


    It certainly wasn¡¯t a small room tucked away in a building off of the main hotel without a single window. Mathew poured himself a soda from a brand he didn¡¯t recognize, along with some snacks, and returned to the couch.


    Putting his feet up on the table carefully so as not to bump the case that contained a priceless work of art, Mathew leaned back on the couch and opened a bag of chips. Savouring the greasy, salt and vinegar-flavoured chips, he washed it down with a sugary soda.


    Heavenly.


    ¡°Alright, this isn¡¯t so bad, Ubiquitous Exchange. If the whole transaction is as simple as this, we won¡¯t have any problems.¡± Mathew said to himself.


    ¡®Welcome! Welcome one and all to the Stardust Illusion Auction House! Boy, do we have one hell of an event for you all! We have art; we have limited editions; we have jewelry. We have items that you have to see to believe!¡¯


    An obnoxious voice began to speak through a speaker in the room, and the screen that covered the wall transitioned from the hotel¡¯s logo to show a man dressed in a neon pink and purple suit so eye-wateringly bright that it threatened to give Mathew a migraine.


    ¡®I¡¯m your host, the illustrious and grand Auctioneer! You all may be wondering, how does this work? Where is the auction? Who is this stunningly, stupendous and sumptuous soul standing on stage before you?¡¯ The Auctioneer said, and Mathew found himself wishing that he was back on the punishment Floor.


    ¡°I get it; this is the challenge. Watching this idiot is why you needed someone like me.¡± Mathew muttered.


    ¡®This is the auction! Simply show the item you wish to auction to the screen in your room, and our talented appraisers will do all the rest! No muss, no fuss! Now, for the rules! There will be no cash at this auction, no way! No credit, no cards! Keep those bills at home! We are working on the policy of equivalent exchange for this auction!¡¯


    ¡®Equivalent Exchange! If you want something, then you better be willing to give something up!¡¯


    ¡®Now! Let¡¯s get this show on the road!¡¯


    Mathew let out a groan and sank deeper into the couch. No amount of snacks, sodas or comforts could make this bearable.


    ¡°Just kill me now!¡±

 Chapter 189 – Floor 20: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 189</u> ¨C Floor 20: Part 3


    While Mathew was bemoaning his circumstances, the screen shifted to show a sound stage and an item. The flamboyantly dressed Auctioneer, holding a microphone, walked to the table holding the item while the camera zoomed in closely.


    Mathew was only half paying attention, especially when he saw that it wasn¡¯t the Crown of Lamentation he sought. The object was a black cloak made of fine silk or satin. It had elaborate symbols and detailed stitching along the back, culminating in a large, lidless eye.


    ¡°Let¡¯s start this show off with a bang! We have a one-of-a-kind item that comes from us all the way up the Tower of Avarice¡¯s 25th Floor! Woven from the hair of a hundred maidens and imbued with the power of the god of Eventide Supremacy, the first item in tonight¡¯s auction is the Cloak of Whispering Wind!¡±


    Mathew perked up as he heard what the auctioneer had to say about the strange, magical cloak on the screen. An item from higher up in the Tower?


    ¡°What exactly is this auction?¡± Mathew said as he leaned forward on the couch and paid rapt attention to the events on the screen.


    ¡°Now, this isn¡¯t some ordinary cloak that can be obtained from the Shop or through the usual means; this is a one-of-a-kind, legendarily unique item that belonged to the Apostle of Eventide Supremacy before they met their unfortunate end on the 25<sup>th</sup> Floor.¡±


    ¡°This cloak allows the wearer to read minds and project their thoughts to anyone within a one-mile radius; also, once per day, the user can summon a great gust of wind that will carry them aloft, flying them to their chosen destination.¡±


    ¡°Remember, we are not accepting regular currency at this auction! The seller is seeking an item of commensurate value. If you wish to bid, speak in the direction of the screen in your room, and a private dialogue will occur where you may showcase the object you seek to trade.¡±


    ¡°Bidding begins now!¡±


    Mathew leaned back on his couch once more as the auctioneer retreated from the screen. The camera began to pan around the cloak with more detail, zooming in on the stitching and the fabric while highlighting its exquisite details.


    After less than a minute, the Auctioneer returned while the cloak disappeared into a flash of light.


    ¡°And that¡¯s it, folks! You snooze, you lose, and someone has already snatched it up! Remember, we value your privacy to the upmost! Now, onto the next item for this evening, The Orb of Eternal Twilight!¡±


    There was another flash of light, and the camera went out of focus slightly, only to return to the table when an orb appeared. It was placed on a circular plinth with a metal band around its center to keep it stable.


    The orb was made of crystal and contained a black mist that swirled around it. It had a sinister aura, and Mathew suspected this item had an interesting backstory. The Auctioneer seemed to be wary of getting to close to the Orb, hovering on the outskirts of the stage even though that meant he wasn¡¯t front and center on camera.


    ¡°You¡¯re right to be shocked! The Orb of Twilight, the legendary cursed item of the god of Vindictive Contrition, the Orb was only recently discovered in some ruins by a lucky individual who was delving through a ruin on the 43<sup>rd</sup> Floor.¡±


    ¡°Capable of devouring all the light of a sun, this Orb drowned an entire planet in darkness as it consumed the day and transferred that power to its deity. Fearsome stuff! And this power can be yours to command for a price! The god of Vindictive Contrition will pay quite a sum to get this baby back, but that¡¯s between you and them!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s get to bidding!¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Mathew stood up and walked to the bar. Ignoring the non-alcoholic drinks, he pulled out a bottle of clear spirits and a glass. What the hell had he gotten into? What kind of auction was this?!


    Items from higher Floors, people bidding on things that belonged to gods he had never heard of and were willing to go against them if they were trying to obtain treasures that a god owned or created. Why was he here, and what did the god of Ubiquitous Exchange want with a Crown?


    Pouring himself a drink, Mathew returned to the couch just as the Auctioneer returned. Someone had evidently bought the Orb because it was now gone, and a new item was in its place. The Auctioneer had a wide smile plastered on his handsome face; his white teeth were so bright that they were nearly as blinding as his neon outfit.


    ¡°Congratulations on your purchase; I¡¯m sure many suns will tremble in fear now that the Orb of Twilight is unleashed upon a hapless multi-verse once again! But that¡¯s someone else¡¯s problem, and we¡¯re moving on to a new item!¡±


    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, we have a real treat for you this evening. This item comes to us directly from the god of Accumulative Predomination; may we all benefit from their grace and dwell in the light of their benediction.¡± The Auctioneer said humbly, pausing and giving a slight bow.


    Mathew was impressed; this god must have some sway or pull amongst the others since he had seen the Auctioneer shamelessly auction off a few other gods¡¯ precious items.


    ¡°This sale will be slightly different from the others. Accumulative Predomination is not looking for an item but a new Apostle. The item will be yours if you agree to serve them, provided you meet the qualifications. In the event we have multiple bidders, Accumulative Predomination will make their selection from amongst them.¡±


    ¡°With that, let¡¯s talk about the Relic they have offered. Folks, it¡¯s a doozy! I won¡¯t even lie to you; if I weren¡¯t already attached to the god of Corporeal Abundance, I would make a bid! Hell, I still might make a bid!¡± The Auctioneer smiled, but it quickly turned to fear as the stage began to shake and the camera threatened to tip over.


    ¡°Kidding! I¡¯m just kidding! I¡¯d never dream of leaving!¡± The Auctioneer said quickly, holding up his hands and looking at something high above him. The shaking gradually ceased, and the Auctioneer let out a breath of relief.


    ¡°Anyway¡­We have the Ring of Temporal Reflexes! Such a simple name for such a formidable Relic. This ring can easily equal any reward from Floor 70 and above. Hell, if an object below Floor eighty can match this, I¡¯d eat my suit! This is a Divine Class magical item, a ring forged by a god!¡±


    That caught Mathew¡¯s interest. A Divine Class item? He hadn¡¯t heard of anything like that before. He had seen common items in the shop, along with uncommon. The Wrathful Blade was a Rare class sword, and he was still impressed by the power it held.


    How powerful was a Divine Class item that could equal reward from Floor 70?


    ¡°Here¡¯s what the Ring does, and you¡¯re going to want to pay close attention to this one, ladies and gentlemen. It lets you peer into the future! I¡¯m not talking about a little peek either; this ring lets you gaze into the future for up to 10 seconds at a time! Imagine the uses for that! Who could ever defeat you in combat if you can see the future!¡±


    ¡°Think of the uses! Ten whole seconds to plan your response! You can be moving before the danger even happens! No more falling into traps! No more dying from mysterious potions! Respond to a Blessing or Spell before it¡¯s even cast!¡±


    ¡°Do I need to go on!??!¡± The Auctioneer screeched, and Mathew clapped his hands over his ears as the man began to pace the stage and scream.


    ¡°LET THE BIDDING START!¡±


    The Auctioneer had barely had the words out of his mouth before the ring disappeared. Even the Auctioneer was surprised by how quickly the bidding ended, and he seemed stunned for a moment as he stared blankly at the now-empty table.


    ¡°Alright¡­..that was quick! Anyhoozle! On to the next item! We have for you an astonishing object, something wondrous and extraordinary. The Crown of Lamentation! Folks, don¡¯t let the name fool you; there¡¯s nothing sad about this crown.¡± The Auctioneer said, and Mathew shot up from the couch, spilling his drink onto the floor.


    He didn¡¯t care; his eyes were locked on the item resting on the table. The camera panned around it slowly, showing it off.


    The crown was beautiful, made of delicately crafted silver that had darkened with age. It was adorned with a single, large, tear-shaped sapphire in the very center. The gem shimmered with light, grey and blue hues that alternated and mixed light, a tear caught in the moonlight.


    It was inscribed with runes along the rim, faintly glowing white and barely perceptible.


    ¡°The Crown of Lamentation. What a beauty, isn¡¯t she? It has quite a history, and this is one of the last remaining items of the ancient Elven race. The Elven Sorcerer, Alarion Morningstar, shaped this crown for the Queen of Eldoria, but demons destroyed their realm before it was completed.¡±


    ¡°Heartbroken, Alarion poured his grief into the crown, hoping it would take away his pain. It succeeded, but the Crown was forever cursed.¡± The Auctioneer paused, his face slightly sad, before he broke into a grin.


    ¡°Anyway, their loss is your gain! Let me tell you what this beauty can do.¡±

 Chapter 190 – Floor 20: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 190</u> ¨C Floor 20: Part 4


    ¡°The Crown of Lamentation! This sucker is power incarnate, provided you are strong enough to wear it!¡± The Auctioneer said as he walked close to the crown, and the camera zoomed in close. He seemed about to touch the silver crown with his finger but stopped, his hand hovering just above it.


    ¡°We¡¯ve done extensive testing on the Crown, using willing subjects, of course, and we¡¯re confident that you will be pleased with this magical item. But, as the saying goes, with great power comes great cost! And not just material wealth, mind you! We¡¯re talking about serious negative side effects from the curse this beauty possesses.¡±


    ¡°But, let¡¯s not be all gloom and doom! What¡¯s a little curse when you compare it to U.L.I.M.A.T.E. P.O.W.E.R! Ultimate Power baby!¡± The Auctioneer screamed and started to dance, and Mathew was confident that the man had truly lost his mind.


    After a few moments, the Auctioneer calmed down enough to continue.


    ¡°First up, the Crown possesses a Passive Aura from the lingering grief of its creator. It¡¯s called the Crown of Lamentation, after all! Anyone who tries to get closer than ten feet while you¡¯re wearing the Crown will find their steps slowed by the weight of loss. Get closer than 3 feet; that sorrow manifests physically.¡±


    The Auctioneer paused, and his face came close to the camera.


    ¡°We almost lost one of our assessors to this baby; he was curled up on the floor, trying to gouge his own eyes out! Freaky stuff!¡±


    ¡°But don¡¯t worry, if you¡¯re wearing the crown, you never have to worry about that sort of thing happening to you. The Crown sucks away all your sadness, all your despair. No more depression while it''s on top of your noggin!¡±


    ¡°So! Let¡¯s start the bidding!¡± The Auctioneer said as he walked off-screen, and the camera panned around the crown as it sat on top of the table.


    ¡°Now¡¯s my chance!¡± Mathew said as he stood from the couch and lifted the lid of the briefcase. The Mona Lisa stared up at him from within the case; her face still showed that small smile. Mathew carefully reached into the case and lifted the previous item from its resting place.


    Turning it slightly so that it pointed toward the screen, Mathew cleared his throat and spoke.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to place a bid for the Crown of Lamentation with this piece of art.¡± Mathew said, and the screen froze for a moment before turning black and then shifting to a new image. The screen showed a middle-aged man wearing a business suit and thick, gold-rimmed glasses.


    ¡°Good evening, Mr. Larson. I am an Assessor here at the Starlight Illusion Hotel and Casino. Please hold the item steady in front of the screen while I conduct the assessment. It will only be a moment.¡± The man said as he adjusted his glasses slightly.


    Mathew was about to reply when he felt a strange mana sweep over him and the object he held. The mana stayed for a moment, ignoring him and sinking into the Mona Lisa painting before it retracted.


    ¡°Ah! A remarkable piece! The Mona Lisa, painted by Archmagus Leonardo da Vinci. Considered by some to be his crowning achievement, of course, those who have studied his work understand that his magical prowess lay in Artificing rather than enchanting his paintings. This was more of a hobby for him, a way to unwind after the intensity of forging Relics.¡± The Assessor explained.


    ¡°Truly, a one-of-a-kind magical item. I will relay the details of its magical abilities to the owner of the Crown if you wish to be a part of the discussion?¡± The Assessor asked, seeing that Mathew had no idea about the magical item he held in his hands.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Uhh¡­sure? I thought it was just a painting of the Mona Lisa. It¡¯s pretty valuable in my world. I didn¡¯t realize it was a magical artifact.¡± Mathew admitted, and the Assessor smiled slightly.


    ¡°Not to worry, Mr. Larson. Your employer relayed the details of your participation to us. You will not be required to provide any input into the transaction.¡± The Assessor replied.


    ¡°My Employer?¡± Mathew asked, slightly confused.


    ¡°Yes, the god of Ubiquitous Exchange.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah. I¡¯m just here because the Tower sent me; I don¡¯t work for Ubiquitous Exchange.¡± Mathew explained, and the Assessor continued to smile and shake his head in the negative.


    ¡°We all work for the gods, in one way or the other.¡± The Assessor replied. The screen shifted once more, and a third party was on the screen. They were cloaked in shadows and were merely a human outline against the backdrop of their private room.


    ¡°Good Evening. We have verified the item as the ¡®Mona Lisa, Portrait of Enigmatic Beauty.¡¯ I believe the value of this magical item is equivalent to that of the Crown of Lamentation.¡± The Assessor said to the shadowy figure, who nodded after hearing the explanation.


    ¡°Please explain the uses of the Portrait.¡± Their voice was oddly muffled and heavily distorted, so Mathew wasn¡¯t sure if it belonged to a man or a woman. The Assessor bowed in response.


    ¡°Of course. ¡®Mona Lisa, Portrait of Enigmatic Beauty possesses three enchantments. Two are passive, and one is activated.¡± The Assessor began his explanation, stopping for a moment to adjust his glasses with his finger.


    ¡°The first passive ability is the Enigmatic Aura. Attuning to the painting has a soothing effect on the mind, shielding you from intrusive thoughts and mental attacks. It can also lessen the effects of any curses or infirmities affecting the psyche.¡±


    ¡°A very useful power indeed.¡± The shadowy figure replied, nodding their head.


    ¡°The second passive ability is Concealed Sentinel. As you may know, Leonardo Da Vinci was an incredibly powerful Sorcerer, one equal to the 60 or 65<sup>th</sup> Floor of the Tower. His presence lingers on the artifacts he created, granting them a spiritual consciousness.¡±


    ¡°The painting will protect its bearer against Blessings and spells that possess a ¡®Charm¡¯ effect or ¡®Panic.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Provided you carry it with you, of course. A less than perfect defense.¡± The shadowy figure said, and Mathew could detect a hint of disappointment in their voice. A difficult feat since it was so heavily altered.


    ¡°The third is an activated ability, and the most powerful, in my opinion. The Enigmatic Portal allows the owner to enter the world of the painting itself. An entire world, created by a master Artificer. Even I cannot peer into the depths of the painting to determine what is within.¡± The Assessor said, finishing his explanation.


    This time, Mathew was sure of the shadowy figure''s reaction. They leaned forward, and Mathew could see they were visibly agitated.


    ¡°I agree to the trade.¡±


    ¡°Good, it has been our pleasure to assist you both today. We hope to see you again in the future.¡±


    The screen went black momentarily before switching back to the main auction. Strangely, it seemed that little time had passed on screen despite Mathew and the Assessor talking for a long time. The Auctioneer was back in a flash, his vibrant suit blinding Mathew¡¯s eyes once again.


    ¡°That¡¯s it! Bids closed, and we¡¯re moving on to the next item!¡± The crown disappeared in a flash of light, and so did the painting in Mathew¡¯s hands, along with the briefcase that once held it. Instead, Mathew held the Crown of Lamentation.


    It was frigid, like holding a block of ice. Shivering at the cold, he could feel a wave of grief wash over him. Hurriedly, he placed the Crown into his inventory. Predictably, a loud ¡®Ding¡¯ rang out in the small, private room.


    Floor 20: A City of Sin (Completed)


    Congratulations! You have obtained the Crown of Lamentation. It has automatically been removed from your inventory. The god of Ubiquitous Exchange thanks you for your service.


    You have been awarded with the Blessing: Decoy!


    The god of Ubiquitous Exchange is very pleased by your actions. They have donned the Crown immediately.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome?¡± Mathew said to the empty room as he lowered his arm.


    ¡°That¡¯s it? There wasn¡¯t much to it. I thought for sure I would have to fight my way out of here, maybe against an army of robbers. Or chase someone through the casino because they stole the thing from me.¡± Mathew muttered.


    He was about to walk to the door of the room when he was interrupted by another notification.


    A third party has requested your presence. Transfer to Floor 21 halted. You will be re-routed to an alternative Floor. Transferring to Floor 21b.


    Before he could respond, Mathew was engulfed in white light.

 Chapter 191 – Floor 21: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 191</u> ¨C Floor 21: Part 1


    Floor 21b- The Painted World Within


    Summary: A god who wishes to remain anonymous has demanded your participation in the exploration of the world within Archmagus Leonardo Da Vinci¡¯s Mona Lisa. Their Apostle desires anything of value within and has willingly offered a large sum of Aether to the Tower to force others to explore the Painted World.


    Goal: Explore the Painted World and deliver anything of value to the Apostle of the god who wishes to remain nameless.


    Reward: Commensurate to the items found within the Painted World.


    ¡°This is bullshit!¡± Mathew cursed as he lowered his arm and looked out at his surroundings.


    He was in a world of colour and paint.


    Mathew stood in a courtyard, the stones made of dark greys and shaded black lines. It lacked detail, more of an artistic impression of a stone if observed from a distance, but lost features as you stared closer.


    Blurry buildings surrounded the courtyard, and no matter how much Mathew looked at them, they refused to coalesce into anything more real than a vague impression of tall structures just out of reach.


    The sky was a vivid blue, with clouds so white and fluffy that they were unrealistic. Everything in this world was exaggerated and lacking in realism. Looking down at his body, Mathew saw that he was similar; he looked cartoonish as if an amateur had painted him.


    ¡°The Painted World.¡± Mathew whispered before he turned red with anger. His pinkish-painted skin shifted to bright scarlet as he shouted.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t agree to this!¡±


    ¡°Join the club.¡± A voice said to the side. Colours swirled and amalgamated to form another person. Similar to Mathew, they appeared colourful and unhuman, like a caricature of a person that an artist had painted on a lark in an afternoon.


    The woman was followed by dozens of other people, who were similarly confused and frustrated as Mathew. He could hear them talking to each other or cursing at the surroundings. Ignoring them, he spoke to the first person who appeared.


    She wore armour, bright silver metal that Mathew could see had brushstrokes through the paint. A sword was belted on her hip, and her long, black hair was braided.


    ¡°Were you forced here by some god as well?¡± Mathew said, and the woman nodded.


    ¡°Floor 21b, yeah. You¡¯re right; this is bullshit. Some Apostle can just force us to do their dirty work, and we have no choice but to do it? Must be nice.¡± The woman said, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°Being a Thrall to a god has its perks; too bad the negatives outweigh the good.¡± Mathew replied, and this time, it was the woman¡¯s turn to nod.


    ¡°What is this place? I¡¯ve never heard of a ¡®Painted World¡¯ before.¡± She asked, and Mathew briefly explained what had happened to him on the previous Floor, how he had traded the Mona Lisa painting for a Crown.


    ¡°That¡¯s all I know.¡± Mathew said with a shrug.


    ¡°Brillant. Into the lion¡¯s den, I suppose.¡± She responded.


    ¡°I¡¯m Gwen.¡± She offered.


    ¡°Mathew.¡±


    ¡°Any ideas? Should we just pick a direction and start walking?¡± Gwen asked.


    ¡°Sounds as good a plan as any. If everyone splits up, we should be able to get this over with pretty quickly.¡± Mathew replied. They were about to join some of the other groups that had already formed and go over a game plan when an image appeared in the air above them.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    It was the Mona Lisa Painting, enlarged to an absurd size. She still had that small smirk on her face, although it seemed more condescending than Mathew remembered. She was definitely looking down on them, both figuratively and literally.


    ¡°Hello, Interlopers, to my Master¡¯s ¡®Painted World.¡¯ While I would like nothing more than to expel you from this place, I am required to test you before I can do so. I have formed a covenant with my new owner, the rules of which are simple. If one of you can pass three of my tests, one of my Master¡¯s many treasures will be yours. Fail, and you will be expelled.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not so bad.¡± Gwen whispered, and Mathew nodded in response. Being expelled likely meant failing the Floor, but it was better than the alternative.


    ¡°Into Oblivion.¡± The Mona Lisa finished, her painted eyes moving over until they locked onto Gwen.


    ¡°What a bitch.¡± Gwen responded softly.


    ¡°Let the First Test commence.¡±


    The Mona Lisa continued to hover above as the painted buildings began to morph. The paint ran and formed new images in the courtyard. There were blank canvas on easels in front of each person and a single brush placed horizontally on the stand.


    Mathew stared at the white canvas, but there was nothing on it. He let out a sigh.


    ¡°I¡¯m screwed. I¡¯m shit at painting. I couldn¡¯t even draw a stick figure if my life depended on it.¡± Mathew let out a huff of air. Gwen smiled, her lips curving comically into an exaggerated fashion. The Painted World distorted faces to an extreme degree, making it difficult for Mathew to discover her true features.


    ¡°Are you sure about that? Because it kind of does.¡± Gwen replied, and Mathew let out a snort.


    The Mona Lisa spoke, her voice echoing across the courtyard.


    ¡°My Master believed that art came from within, that the brush converted feeling and emotion into images. In front of you is a canvas and brush. Through those items, you will look within yourself and bring out the vision you find there. Colours are emotions, and this test isn¡¯t about technique or ability. It¡¯s about making me feel.¡±


    ¡°Begin.¡±


    Mathew cautiously approached the easel and carefully picked up the brush. It was longer than his hand, made of wood with long, conelike bristles. The handle of the brush made the tips of his fingers tingle. There was magic inside the wood; he could feel mana entering his hand, sweeping up his arm and into his head.


    ¡°What the?¡± Mathew managed to say before his vision darkened, and he was pulled out of the Painted World. There was a kaleidoscope of colours as the mana began to break down some barrier in Mathew¡¯s mind that he didn¡¯t even know existed. The world shifted and turned.


    Mathew squeezed his eyes shut as a sudden wave of nausea hit him.


    ¡°Life is colour. Red is the colour of passion and anger, but life and love. Blue is made of sadness but is also calm. Yellow is for fear and terror but also for hope and joy. Green is life, jealousy, envy, and serenity. Purple is a noble colour of Emperors and Kings, mysterious and creative. It is made of loss, sadness, and love that are no longer there. Grey is the colour of confusion and melancholy, of age and death. But it is also of knowledge and wisdom.¡±


    An old man¡¯s voice spoke out from the darkness, his tone soothing, and Mathew felt the nausea inside him recede.


    ¡°Colours reveal so much about us, the things we like and the things we hate. What are your colours, Mathew? What do you see when you open your eyes?¡± The voice echoed and then faded away. Mathew felt a tug on his consciousness, an urge to open his eyes.


    When he did, Mathew was overwhelmed by the intensity of the colours he saw.


    Everything was red. He stood in a world made of blood. The ground was formed from corpses, so many piled on top of each other that no mountain on Earth could equal it. They were all people he knew from his time in the Tower. People he had met on various Floors, people who had died or had been killed by him.


    Red.


    He could feel the anger and hatred in the world. It welled up from deep inside him, spilling out of him like blood from a wound. Mathew screamed in rage.


    So intense was his anger that he began to cry. Tears, bright and brilliant blue, flowed from his eyes and formed pools of water on the ground of corpses.


    The world of red now had blue in it, and his anger mixed with sadness and loss. He had lost so many people in the Tower. Friends that he would never see again, so many people that he couldn¡¯t even recall their names.


    But there was more to his loss than those inside the Tower. He mourned for his family outside the Tower. What must they be going through without him?


    After the tears flowed, Mathew felt a sense of calmness descend upon him. The rage dissipated along with the sadness, leaving him serene and peaceful. Beneath his feet, the red of blood and corpses mixed with the blue of his tears to form a new colour.


    The world was replaced by purple, and Mathew found his colour. He opened his eyes and stared at the image he had painted on the canvas in front of him.


    It was of him wearing a long, purple cloak and a silver crown. He held a sword in his hands and stood before a crowd of people, protecting them from a dark shadow. The Mathew in the painting seemed incapable of defeating the shadow but was determined to try and protect the people anyway.


    ¡°That concludes the first test.¡±

 Chapter 192 – Floor 21: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 192</u> ¨C Floor 21: Part 2


    ¡°Your painting has been deemed¡­adequate.¡± The condescending voice of the Mona Lisa descended from where she hovered above. Mathew¡¯s painting turned to liquid and fell to the ground, where the stones quickly absorbed it.


    ¡°Your painting has been deemed¡­exceptional.¡± Next to him, Gwen¡¯s painting, which depicted a beautiful sunrise over a mountain, similarly disappeared. The Mona Lisa seemed disgruntled by that statement, and Gwen smirked at the floating painting.


    ¡°Good job.¡± Mathew said.


    ¡°It was easy; I just imagined the look on her smug face when she realized how talented I was. It was totally worth it.¡± Gwen responded.


    In the distance, several people had their paintings judged. Mathew couldn¡¯t hear what was said, but when their bodies turned to paint and disappeared into the ground, he knew they had failed the test. All told, it only took a few minutes for the first round of testing to finish. Over most people passed, and Mathew could tell that the painting above was irritated by that fact.


    ¡°To those that remain, know that the second round will be much harder. Although, none of you have a choice but to participate.¡± Paint accumulated on the ground, and a giant painting slowly rose from below. It was concealed in black shadows made of paint, preventing anyone from seeing what was on the canvas.


    ¡°This is a recreation of my master¡¯s last painting, ¡®A Self-Portrait.¡¯ The task here is simple: gaze upon this masterpiece and resist its power. If you can last five seconds, you will be deemed acceptable and pass onto the final test.¡± The Mona Lisa explained.


    ¡°Five seconds? Easy.¡± Gwen scoffed while Mathew shook his head in disagreement. He could sense the power under the veil of shadow; the mana pulsated like a beating heart. It sent shivers down his spine, and he couldn¡¯t keep his hands from shaking.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think this is going to be a walk in the park. We¡¯ll need to use everything we have to resist it.¡± Mathew advised.


    ¡°You! Approach the painting.¡± The Mona Lisa ordered a young woman near the outside of the crowd. Wearing thick robes, her brown hair cascaded down her back as she walked forward. Standing in front of the painting, she drew in a deep breath and pulled out a staff.


    ¡®Good Instincts.¡¯ Mathew thought, agreeing with her preparations. She began to use multiple protective blessings, and a solid magical glow suffused her body. Finally, a bubble-like shield sprang into existence around her, its surface multi-coloured like an oil slick.


    When she was finished, she looked up at the Mona Lisa and nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡± She said. The veil of magic parted around the piece of art, and the young woman was exposed to what was beneath it. Mathew couldn¡¯t see it, and no one could besides the young woman. But its power was undeniable.


    The ground shook, and a bright light shot out toward the woman. The air trembled, and the young woman screamed in pain as energy battered at her protective shield. The bubble shattered like glass, along with most of her protective enchantments.


    Above, the Mona Lisa began to count the time.


    ¡°5.4.3.2.1.¡± After five seconds, the power of the hidden painting was dissipated, and the young woman collapsed onto the ground. Panting with exhaustion, she was pale, and Mathew could feel the mana within her flickering as if it were on the verge of being extinguished.


    ¡°Adequate.¡± The Mona Lisa judged, and the young woman was moved back to where she had first stood with stone hands that emerged from the ground.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Next.¡±


    One after another, people approached the veiled painting. Each used their various techniques to prepare themselves. Some succeeded, while others failed. Those who lived showed how difficult the challenge was; they returned exhausted and injured, while those that failed were burned from existence.


    Mathew watched one young man, a tall and muscular warrior, scream in agony as the energy ripped through his body. Eventually, his body turned to specks of paint that smeared across the floor as he was blasted into oblivion.


    ¡°Failure.¡±


    When it was Gwen¡¯s turn, Mathew wished her good luck as she pulled a large shield from her inventory. Emblazoned with a griffin on the front, Mathew could sense that it was a powerful magical item. When she was in front of the painting, she slammed the bottom of the shield against the courtyard stone, burying it into the ground for stability.


    When the veil parted, flames gushed out and struck the shield with such intensity that the impact rang out like a gong. Even with the shield buried in the ground and her entire weight and considerable strength pushing back against it, Gwen was slowly pressed backwards.


    Yelling in anger, Gwen drew her sword. It shone a bright blue, and Mathew was reminded of water as mana gathered along its length.


    ¡°Waterfall Divide!¡± She screamed, and a torrent of mana rushed out from the sword as she sliced downwards. The flames were parted by the blue mana that flowed like a waterfall descending from the side of a mountain. The flames and water slammed against each other, causing a massive explosion of steam that shook everything around them.


    When the steam cleared, Gwen was still standing. Her shield glowed red from the intense heat, and the sword in her hand had a muted colour as if it were entirely drained.


    ¡°Exceptional.¡± The Mona Lisa once again judged, this time with a hint of desperation in her tone. It clearly wanted Gwen to fail and was worried that the young woman would be the one to succeed and take her master¡¯s treasure.


    Gwen returned to her spot next to Mathew without the need to be carried, and Mathew nodded in approval of her actions. She was stronger than most of the others here and clearly incredibly talented. She had achieved an ¡®exceptional¡¯ in both tests, a feat no one else had accomplished.


    ¡°Any advice?¡± Mathew whispered as she neared him.


    ¡°Go all out right from the start. This isn¡¯t the time to hold back.¡± Gwen recommended. He could see how much it took out of her to stand against the painting for five seconds.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    It was his turn next, and Mathew began to reinforce himself as he walked forward.


    ¡°Alter Self ¨C Enhanced Body. Alter Self ¨C Iron Bones. Alter Self ¨C Thick Skin.¡± The transformations began to take effect; his movement slowed even further as the strain of altering his body made his right leg have difficulty carrying his weight.


    Limping slightly, he continued.


    ¡°Investiture of Flame.¡± Fire sprang into existence all around him; his footsteps left lingering flames on the ground as he walked. Finally, he pulled the Wrathful Blade from his inventory and slammed its flat end into the ground, digging the heavy sword nearly halfway into the ground.


    Since his right leg would be useless, Mathew knelt before the broad blade and gripped the handle with both hands. Looking up at the Mona Lisa, he nodded to indicate he was ready.


    The veil of black paint parted, and Mathew was greeted with his first look at the painting beneath. It was of an old man; his skin was incredibly pale and covered in age spots. He had a long, white beard and hair and a pair of the brightest, bluest eyes he had ever seen.


    They seemed to stare into his eyes, and Mathew found he couldn¡¯t look away. A voice spoke out at the moment his eyes locked with those of the painted man, and Mathew wasn¡¯t sure if it was speaking aloud or in his mind.


    ¡°When painting, putting a piece of yourself in your work is vitally important. The best Art is a part of you, a connection to your very soul. Do you have the fortitude to tear a piece of yourself out and place it into your creation? To create is to be cruel to oneself.¡±


    ¡°Show me if you are worthy of my art!¡±


    The voice exploded in volume, and Mathew screamed as the energy assaulted him. Like a torrent of fire and light from a sun, the power assailed him. It struck the Wrathful Blade, and the metal instantly heated, glowing a bright orange.


    Mathew could feel his skin peeling; his bones rattled from the intense vibrations from the sword hilt in his hands. He felt his legs rise up off the ground as the painting threw everything it had against him. If his hands slipped even for a moment, he would be thrown into oblivion.


    With that torrent of energy came a simultaneous assault on his mind. Images, memories and sensations rapidly flashed through his head, a combination of his own past and unknown, foreign, intrusive thoughts.


    Mathew could feel his hands slipping; the sword was coming loose from the ground. It was tilting backwards, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.


    ¡°2.1.¡± The veil returned to cover the painting, and Mathew collapsed onto the ground. The sword pulled free and hit the stones with a loud ¡®clang.¡¯


    ¡°Barely adequate.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t a great assessment, but he would take it.

 Chapter 193 – Floor 21: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 193</u> ¨C Floor 21: Part 3


    ¡°I congratulate the few of you that have managed to come this far.¡± The Mona Lisa said that although Mathew knew by her tone, she wasn¡¯t happy to do so. Her small smile had disappeared, replaced with a frown that caused creases in her painted forehead.


    ¡°She looks like she¡¯s sucking on a lemon.¡± Gwen observed from beside him, and Mathew gave her a brief smile in response. A few dozen of them were still alive after the last test, and Mathew had barely recovered from the ordeal.


    His leg felt like it was on fire, and even the most potent potion could alleviate the pain. He focused on the hovering painting in an attempt to ignore the pain. Mathew had barely passed the last test, and he doubted he would be capable of any more physical contests, not with his current limitations.


    For the first time since he had left the Punishment Floor, Mathew feared he would fail again.


    ¡®That¡¯s not going to happen.¡¯ Mathew tried to assure himself. He caught the flitting image of a Celestial Spirit out of the corner of his eye. They seemed to be hiding from the hovering painting above, scurrying around on the outskirts rather than approaching him closely.


    ¡°The final test begins now.¡± The painting said, and stone plinths rose up from the ground in front of each person. The items on each plinth were different for each person; for Mathew, there were four.


    A small leather book with a golden sun on the front, but its pages were blank.


    A metal compass that had a star depicting the four directions. It was pointing toward the ¡®North¡¯ but would occasionally wobble, then spin rapidly before stopping in a different direction.


    There was a small vial that contained a clear liquid. It had a cork in the top to keep it sealed.


    Finally, there was a broken quill. Made of a feather, it was snapped in half, but the metal nib of the quill still had a small amount of ink on the end. Mathew noticed that the ink was still wet.


    ¡°What are we supposed to do with these?¡± Gwen asked, and the crowd listened intently to the response.


    ¡°These items contain the essence of my Master¡¯s art, they are the physical manifestation of his ¡®Inspiration.¡¯ Inside them is the ¡®key¡¯ to my master¡¯s vault. Find the key within, and you may exchange it for a single treasure.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t much of an explanation. You could have-¡± Gwen grumbled as she reached her hand toward one of her own items, a battered and ripped coin purse. Her eyes lost focus when her fingers brushed against the old leather, and she immediately stopped talking.


    ¡°Gwen?¡± Mathew asked with concern, but Mona Lisa¡¯s voice interrupted him.


    ¡°Impressive, she has already achieved communion with my Master¡¯s essence. Perhaps she will succeed after all.¡± The Mona Lisa commented. Seeing that Gwen wasn¡¯t about to respond as she was in some kind of trance with her hand wrapped around the coin purse, Mathew turned back to his own items.


    After selecting one of the objects, the small vial of clear liquid, Mathew tentatively reached toward it. He nearly winced when his fingers skimmed the cold glass of the container. Expecting to be immediately assaulted by strange visions or foreign mana, he relaxed when nothing happened.


    ¡°Am I doing it wrong?¡± Mathew asked himself as he lifted the vial and held it closer to his face. He shook it slightly and watched the liquid inside splash against the sides. Not having any reaction, he even popped the cork and took a sniff.


    It lacked any kind of smell, and Mathew was sure that it was just water. Placing the cork back on the vial, he placed it back on the stone plinth and grabbed another item. With the broken quill in his hand, Mathew still wasn¡¯t gifted with a vision.


    After examining the last object, the book with blank pages, Mathew dropped it onto the stone plinth in frustration. Gwen was still in her trance, her eyes closed, and she was murmuring almost silently to herself.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Glancing around, Mathew saw that most people in the room had the same problem as himself. One young woman had taken to ripping apart her object, a down-filled pillow, and there were feathers flying around in every direction from her efforts.


    Taking a deep breath to ease his fraying nerves, Mathew gripped one of the objects at random and closed his eyes. If a vision wasn¡¯t going to come to him naturally, he would force it! Mana surged inside him, and he vigorously cycled it inside his body.


    All his efforts accomplished was to stir the air around him and blow away the white feathers that littered the ground.


    ¡°Your time is up.¡± The Mona Lisa said, her voice was thunderous, and he saw that she was pleased about something. Her smirk was back, and her condescending attitude was in full force. Her eyes moved across the crowd, and she began to judge them.


    ¡°Failure.¡± She said, and Mathew could feel an oppressive power descend from above. It struck a young man at the end of the line with the force of a hammer. It obliterated his body, and he was instantly turned into a fine, bloody mist.


    When her eyes turned to the next person, a young woman, she tried to plead her case.


    ¡°Please! You didn¡¯t properly explain what we were supposed to do!¡± She argued, and this time, Mathew was sure that the Mona Lisa smiled. She was enjoying this immensely.


    ¡°Failure!¡± Again, the force descended, and the young woman disappeared, leaving only a red-painted smear on the floor.


    Mathew broke out into a cold sweat. No one had passed! When he looked around at the others in the room, he saw that Gwen was holding a small, crystal key in her hands.


    ¡°Where did you get that?¡± Mathew asked her, and she shook her head.


    ¡°It was inside the items I had. Don¡¯t ask me how I got it; I have no idea.¡± Gwen responded, her tone sad as she quickly saw that she was the only one among the dozens of people with a key.


    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± Gwen asked. The Stone Plinths had descended into the ground after the Mona Lisa had announced their time was up. Without the key, there was no chance for any of them to pass.


    ¡°Failure! AHA AHAH!¡± The Mona Lisa was laughing loudly as she killed another person. The players were panicking as several tried to flee. But they were inside the ¡®Painted World.¡¯ There was nowhere to run.


    Before Mathew could reply, a group of several people banded together and began to cast spells, use blessings and even throw their weapons at the floating painting. Mathew watched as an avalanche of mana and weapons collided with the Mona Lisa, who was still smirking.


    Their attacks did nothing; they slid off the painting harmlessly. There was a force surrounding her, a similar energy that the painting ¡®Self-Portrait¡¯ possessed. The oppressive force doubled, then doubled again, and the group of players evaporated.


    Seeing that the others were momentarily subdued, the Mona Lisa looked down at the key in Gwen¡¯s hands. She seemed to have mixed emotions about the young woman¡¯s success, and she let out a resigned sigh.


    ¡°Pass. You may enter the vault and choose one item from within.¡± The painting declared. Gwen looked at Mathew with a pitying gaze as a door appeared in front of her. When she was out of sight, the door closed, and the painted eyes of the Mona Lisa looked down at him in judgment.


    ¡°Failure.¡± She condemned him, and there was undeniable glee in her voice. The oppressive force descended once again, and Mathew looked around for anything to help him get out of this situation. By happenstance, his gaze met that of one of the Celestial Spirits.


    It was hovering just on the edge of the courtyard, its transparent body flittering in and out of existence. The spirit was speaking the same sentence it always did, its voice joining with the others of its kind on the edge of Mathew¡¯s hearing.


    For the first time, he could make out what it said.


    ¡°You must help us.¡±


    ¡°I would, but I¡¯m about to be killed!¡± Mathew yelled, and time slowed down by half a beat. His vision narrowed until it was just him, the celestial spirit and the painting of the Mona Lisa above him. Even the weight of the foreign, oppressive power eased slightly.


    ¡°You must help us.¡± The spirit repeated, and this time, Mathew could feel something form between them. It reminded him of the connection he had with the Tower or the link the ¡®Spirit¡¯ attribute had with the gods.


    This new connection was weak and probing like a child tentatively reaching out its hand and brushing against his.


    ¡°You must help us.¡± The spirit repeated again, and Mathew nodded.


    ¡°I will. If you help me, I¡¯ll help you in return.¡± Mathew promised. When the words left his mouth, time completely ceased its flow, and the celestial spirit nodded its head in acknowledgment.


    ¡°You will help us.¡±


    The celestial spirit spoke before its translucent body floated directly in front of Mathew. Its feet settled onto the floor, and it slowly took on corporeal form. It was long-limbed and pale; its hands had only four fingers. Its hair was long and completely white, but its eyes captured Mathew''s attention.


    They were black. Not the black of a pupil or of the night, but the darkness of the void between stars. They were endless pools of emptiness, and Mathew found himself getting lost inside them. His mind became as slow as the flow of time.


    The Celestial slowly reached up and touched Mathew¡¯s forehead with its long finger, and Mathew¡¯s entire universe shattered.

 Chapter 194 – Floor 21: Part 4

    <u>Chapter 194</u> ¨C Floor 21: Part 4


    Mathew felt his soul detach from his body.


    The separation was painless and seamless; one moment, he was whole of body and mind, and the next, his spirit was standing behind his body. He watched the Celestial¡¯s touch linger on his body¡¯s forehead, but Mathew could feel nothing.


    Strangely, the world around him was utterly dark. Nothing existed except for his spirit, his body and the Celestial. They floated in a void, silent and unfeeling.


    But soon, Mathew could hear whispering in all directions. More Celestials emerged from the darkness; they stood in a circle around Mathew, and their numbers stretched into the infinite nothingness around him.


    The whispers lacked cohesion and meaning, but Mathew slowly began to recognize some of the words. After a moment, another Celestial approached him from the crowd and began speaking to the Celestial who was touching his forehead.


    ¡°He has agreed?¡± The Celestial asked, and Mathew recognized that it was a woman¡¯s voice. It was strange; he couldn¡¯t distinguish their genders by their appearance, but their voices were distinct.


    ¡°He will help us.¡± The Celestial touching Mathew¡¯s body replied, and Mathew knew that it was male.


    ¡°We have hope. Our people will be liberated.¡± She responded.


    ¡°Perhaps. The ones in power will not want to see us return.¡± The male Celestial answered, and Mathew¡¯s body shivered as the Celestial came slightly closer.


    ¡°Take what you need. He has agreed to help us.¡± The female Celestial commanded, and the other Celestials in the throng whispered their agreement.


    ¡°Not willingly. He was left with no choice by the ones he served.¡± The male Celestial said after hesitating for a moment.


    ¡°That is their failure and his circumstance. It is not up to us to assist him. Take what you need.¡± The female Celestial repeated, but still the male hesitated.


    ¡°I have watched him. He will serve us well.¡± The male Celestial clarified, and Mathew had the impression that the female shrugged with indifference. If Mathew could have spoken, he would have asked a multitude of questions, but he was held silent in this strange void.


    ¡°Then he will serve us as a ¡®Speaker.¡¯ You will bear responsibility.¡± The female said, making it a statement rather than a question.


    ¡°Agreed.¡± The male responded.


    Mathew felt an odd sensation sweep through his soul. It felt like the Celestial touching him was drawing something out of his body and spirit. It travelled through the connection between them and up into his body¡¯s forehead and through the Celestial''s finger.


    Aether.


    It was taking the Aether from him! Mathew could feel his spirit grow weaker, and his body visibly lost the muscle mass he had accumulated from his high ¡®Body¡¯ attribute. The hard-earned Levels were being drained!


    Even his mind was slowing; his crystal clear memories and his thoughts'' enhanced ¡®processing¡¯ speed were becoming cloudy. In response to his loss, the Celestial in front of him was growing stronger. Its pale skin was darkening slightly, its body growing more corporeal.


    The crowd of Celestials began to ¡®hum,¡¯ a soft high pitch keening wail that was growing stronger.


    When his levels were gone, the Celestial fed on his Blessings. Mathew could see them as visible streaks of light flying out from his spirit and forming into additional Aether that the Celestial consumed. When there was nothing left inside of him, the Celestial slowly retracted its finger.


    Mathew felt his spirit merge with his body once more, and he would have collapsed if he were able to. Instead, a foreign power kept him standing.


    ¡°Why?¡± Mathew managed to ask, his voice coming out as a croak as if his throat were parched.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°You have asked for our assistance in saving your life. This was part of the price.¡± The Celestial responded.


    ¡°Part?¡± Mathew inquired, and the Celestial responded by reaching out its hand once more. The three-fingered hand passed over Mathew¡¯s head and grasped something to the side of him. Turning to look, Mathew saw it was an incorporeal, golden thread that stretched into the void.


    ¡°Your connection to the Tower of Avarice. Through it, so too will we be linked. A member of our race will have a chance to ascend. A chance for our deliverance.¡± The Celestial explained. It drew its hand back, pulling the golden thread closer to itself.


    The male Celestial paused for a moment and turned to its female companion. He seemed to offer the thread to her, but she shook her head negatively.


    ¡°This is your responsibility now.¡± She responded, and the male Celestial nodded solemnly.


    It gripped the thread tightly and yanked. The void disappeared in an instant, along with all of the other Celestials. Mathew felt the sensation of rapid movement as if he were being hurled through space at tremendous speed along with whatever platform or vessel was carrying him.


    The male Celestial continued to grip the golden thread, its alien face showing no sign of discomfort at their method of travel. Mathew blinked, and suddenly, they were somewhere else.


    The endless black was replaced by white. An infinite white void without beginning or end. There was nothing in this space aside from Mathew and the male Celestial. Mathew looked around in confusion. He had been expecting to travel somewhere from the sensation he had felt.


    The Celestial noticed his bewilderment and explained.


    ¡°Your mind is not yet capable of perceiving this space. What you see as ¡®nothing¡¯ is in fact ¡®everything.¡¯¡± The Celestial described, but it did little to help Mathew¡¯s understanding. It didn¡¯t seem interested in further explanation as it patiently stared out into the white void.


    Mathew was about to speak, to seek further clarification, when he felt something shift in the void. Nothing visibly changed; there was no sudden appearance of strange beings or powerful entities, but Mathew knew that something had arrived.


    The Celestial beside him continued to calmly stare out at the emptiness.


    ¡°Speak!¡± The sudden, thunderous outburst caught Mathew by surprise. It was made of countless voices speaking in chorus, their tones mild but made terrifying by the sheer amount of them. The Celestial seemed unconcerned; it merely waited for the voices to fade before speaking.


    ¡°We seek ascension.¡± The Celestial responded, its voice soft in comparison to the tumultuous cacophony of the other party.


    Mathew knew there was more happening here than what he could see or even hear. There were undercurrents, invisible to his weak eyes, that only the Celestial beside him could comprehend. There was a long pause in which things were discussed beyond Mathew¡¯s ears.


    ¡°Granted. Conditionally.¡± The voices replied. Some were jubilant, while others were begrudging. The emotions and tones were as varied as the voices themselves. The Celestial seemed content with the response as it suddenly gripped Mathew¡¯s shoulder and tugged him.


    The white void disappeared, and Mathew was back in front of the Mona Lisa. Everything was still frozen in time aside from Mathew and the Celestial. It ignored everything around it and focused on Mathew.


    ¡°Speaker. Our fates are intertwined, for the moment.¡± The Celestial said, and Mathew was once again lost in its eyes. They were like galaxies now, the blackness filled with specks of light. Whatever it had gained from that meeting in the white void had changed it.


    ¡°You are a child, learning its first words of a language as beautiful and powerful as the universe that birthed us. From this moment forward, you are the only mortal granted the privilege of their use.¡±


    ¡°Serve me well, Apostle.¡± The Celestial said, and Mathew gave a start of shock at the title. The Celestial began to fade away, returning to its incorporeal form when Mathew regained his senses.


    ¡°Wait! I didn¡¯t agree to that!¡±


    But the Celestial didn¡¯t stop. Soon, for the first time in decades, Mathew was entirely alone.


    While the flow of time was still halted, Mathew felt a sudden vibration in the silver wristband. A new status screen greeted him.


    Name: Mathew Larson


    Formal Title: The Enduring, Apostle of the god of Unyielding Declaration.


    Discipline: Celestial Speaker


    Level: 1


    Blessings: None


    Words of Power Known: Burn, Break, Burst.


    Deity: The god of Unyielding Declaration


    The screen confirmed it. He was now an Apostle to a god. Although, if he had understood the meeting the Celestial had, its current status was conditional. Unyielding Declaration.


    Worse, Mathew was now a Level 1 with no Blessings or abilities outside the few Words of Power that he retained. He had a new Discipline now, but there were no ¡®Level up¡¯ requirements on the screen. Was Celestial Speaker a single Level Discipline?


    Mathew needed to figure all that out later as the flow of time was beginning to crawl forward again. The oppressive power that the Mona Lisa had unleashed was slowly returning, and Mathew was even weaker now than he had been before he had asked the Celestials for help!


    Before he could be wiped from existence, Mathew raised his hand and spoke a Word of Power.


    ¡°Break!¡±


    The world reacted to his call in a way that he had never experienced before. In the past, when he had used the Words of Power, it felt as if he were drawing on a foreign power, taking something that wasn¡¯t his and using it in a way that wasn¡¯t intended.


    That changed now. When Mathew spoke, the universe listened.

 Chapter 195 – Floor 21: Part 5

    <u>Chapter 195</u> ¨C Floor 21: Part 5


    The oppressive force that surrounded Mathew shattered at his command. It was cloying and thick, wrapping around him like shroud, pressing down on him with a weight beyond imagining. It wasn¡¯t just a physical thing, but a presence.


    It was ephemeral and everywhere, like a giant hand pushing down on his body and soul.


    The power the painting of the Mona Lisa used didn¡¯t belong to her; it was a lingering remnant of her long-dead master that she had been bestowed with upon her creation. For such a remnant to contain a power that could destroy Mathew and the others long after its owner had perished spoke to its power in life.


    When Mathew uttered the Word of Power ¡®Break,¡¯ it became a contest between his authority over the universe through his connection to the Celestials and Unyielding Declaration, and the remnant power of her creator.


    The painting didn¡¯t stand a chance.


    Even a newly elevated god was beyond compare to mortals, and Mathew suspected that Unyielding Declaration was incredibly powerful when contrasted to other gods. The Celestial had communicated to the other gods present in the void as if they were equals.


    When time resumed its regular flow and the oppressive force returned, it was immediately fractured. There was a backlash from the sudden and irrevocable loss of power the Mona Lisa sustained. Cracks immediately formed in its frame, and her beautiful, painted face began to sag.


    Streaks of paint began to run from the canvas, dripping onto the stone floor in thick globules.


    ¡°This¡­this isn¡¯t possible! How?!¡± The painting screamed, but no answer was forthcoming. The cracks widened, and eventually, the entire frame fragmented like glass struck by a rock. The painting lasted only a moment longer before it too crumbled away.


    It curled in on itself, folding and bending on itself as the Word of Power ¡®Break¡¯ not only destroyed its physical body, but the connection between the painting and the lingering remnant of its master¡¯s power.


    Mathew¡¯s understanding of the Words of Power had deepened, a gift the god of Unyielding Declaration granted to its Apostle. In exchange, Mathew lost all of his other blessings and attributes. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure if it was a fair exchange; only time would tell.


    The Words of Power were the most powerful of his blessings, with the exception of ¡®Disintegrate,¡¯ but there were consequences to using them. Namely, the increased connection to the spirits of the Celestials.


    Now that side effect was gone, Mathew was much more confident in using them.


    But the reality was that he hadn¡¯t had a choice. It was between subservience to a god or death. And he still had so much to do; he couldn¡¯t die here.


    Mathew would sacrifice everything he had in order to continue through the Tower, not just for himself, but for others. Emily was still somewhere further in the Tower, and he needed to assist her ascent.


    For that, the price of a few Levels and Blessings were nothing. For her, he would become an Apostle of an alien god.


    The few people around Mathew in the ¡®Painted World¡¯ were already gone, disappearing in flashes of white light. He didn¡¯t know if they passed or failed, but he hoped they were moving on to the next floor.  If they failed, he was confident they wouldn¡¯t be sent into oblivion. They would likely be tossed into a Punishment Floor.


    Mathew¡¯s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an item dropping to the ground at his feet. It was a small paintbrush, similar to the one he had used earlier in the first test. This one was made of black wood with white bristles and gold accents. He could feel the mana within it, a swirling vortex of overwhelming power that sent a shiver down his spine.


    Tentatively picking it up, aware that he was now much weaker than he had been, Mathew was about to cautiously assess it when a loud ¡®Ding¡¯ rang out and burning words appeared on the floor in front of him, as if they were written by a fiery pen.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Floor 21b - The Painted World Within (Complete)


    Summary: You have found an item of extreme value inside the ¡®Painted World.¡¯ Unfortunately, your actions have damaged the magical item ¡®Mona Lisa, Portrait of Enigmatic Beauty.¡¯ The destruction of the painting inside has resulted in the overall quality of the item being reduced.


    It will take time and effort to restore it.


    Reward: Withheld in compensation to the owner of ¡®Mona Lisa, Portrait of Enigmatic Beauty¡¯ for the destruction of the magical item¡¯s guardian spirit.


    The god of Unyielding Declaration agrees with the assessment.


    The item ¡®Brush of Infinite Dreams¡¯ will be transferred to an unnamed party as payment for the destruction of the Guardian of the Painted World.


    All parties are satisfied with the outcome. No further discussion regarding this outcome will be allowed.


    Transfer to Floor 22 to begin momentarily.


    Mathew finished reading the text and let out a brief sigh. It made sense that he wouldn¡¯t be rewarded; he failed the assessment and had to destroy the painting. As long as no one came looking for him in revenge, he was all right with how things turned out.


    Better to be alive and poor than richly dead. He was even appreciative of the Unyielding Declaration¡¯s intervention, which was a strange thought for Mathew since the god had essentially forced him to become its Apostle.


    But how much were his thoughts and emotions being influenced by his new Title and Discipline? He knew it was possible; it had happened with every new Discipline he had received; why would this one be any different?


    Mathew didn¡¯t know, and he didn¡¯t want to dwell on it too long. There was nothing he could do to change it, at least not for the moment.


    Thankfully, he was interrupted by a portal appearing in front of him. Gwen walked out, holding a small wooden box in her hands. She looked surprised to see him alive and well. She had expected to return to find no trace of any of her fellow Players who had failed the test.


    She quickly glanced around and saw that there was no one left in the ¡®Painted World,¡¯ nor was the painting of the Mona Lisas still hovering above them.


    ¡°What happened?¡± She asked as she tucked the small box into her inventory and approached him.


    ¡°Divine intervention.¡± Mathew responded simply.


    He was unwilling to explain anything further, and his tone conveyed the message to the other woman. They were spared any awkwardness by a white light gently surrounding them, and they were each carried on to the next Floor.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew collapsed onto the ground, his injured leg unable to sustain the impact from the drop onto this new Floor. It hadn¡¯t been a hard impact, nor did he fall from a great height. But his leg was in agony, and he could barely stand.


    The white light disappeared, revealing the surroundings to him as he slowly made his way back onto his feet and brushed the dirt off his clothing. He heavily favoured his left leg, leaning to one side to take the weight off of his right.


    He was already missing those stolen Attributes, especially the ¡®Body¡¯ enhancements. Mathew had never felt so slow, awkward and heavy in decades. He had trouble putting his thoughts in order, and his memory was worse than ever. What had been crystal clear only an hour before was now like looking through a cloudy lens.


    Resigned to being weak again for the foreseeable future, Mathew looked around at the area where the Tower had deposited him.


    He was on the outskirts of a small village; the houses were made of stone with thatch roofs. There were dozens of them taking up both sides of a dirt road and the surrounding hills. He could see sheep and cattle grazing on the green grass. Smoke rose from chimneys in the chill air, and Mathew buttoned up his jacket against the cold.


    The sky was overcast, the weather hinted at rain, and Mathew recognized the freshness of the air. It was the lack of pollution from before the time of industrialization. He was evidently in an older timeline than his Earth, which was obvious from the lack of electricity and modern technology. There was no pavement on the roads or concrete in the buildings.


    His wristband began to vibrate with an incoming message. He reflexively raised his arm and read it.


    Floor 22 ¨C Village of the Damned


    Located in the remote stretches known to the rest of the world as the ¡®Frontier,¡¯ the Village of Dunsworth has been plagued with disappearances for the past few months. With every full moon, there would be more people missing.


    Children are gone from their beds in the morning. A husband did not returning after a day¡¯s work harvesting wood from the forest. A wife went without a trace, leaving her family without a mother. Half a dozen disappearances and no explanation of what happened.


    Investigate what is happening in Dunsworth and solve this mystery. If there is a threat to the village or its people, eliminate it.


    Reward: A Word of Power: Haze


    Word of Power ¨C Haze


    Haze can be used to create a thin and light fog that will obscure you from sight. It can also be used to influence the thoughts of others, leaving them slightly muddled and confused. As a Speaker, you are better able to understand the versatility of a Word of Power.


    Mathew closed the message, set his sights on the village and began walking.

 Chapter 196 – Floor 22: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 196</u> ¨C Floor 22: Part 1


    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of Unyielding Declaration.¡± Mayor Eleanor Brooks responded after Mathew knocked on her door and introduced himself. He was led into her large home that sat on top of a hill overlooking the village of Dunsworth.


    Mathew guessed she was in her late fifties or early sixties by the streaks of grey in her brown hair that was pinned up into a bun. She had green eyes that stared at him suspiciously, only relenting to let him inside her home after he revealed that he had been sent here to investigate the disappearances by the Tower.


    ¡°They are newly ascended.¡± Mathew responded as he sat down at the mayor¡¯s wooden kitchen table. She set down a cup of tea and a plate of snacks before joining him.


    ¡°Odd they would send you here; we normally pray to the god of Sanctuary Retort.¡± The mayor replied, gauging Mathew¡¯s reaction carefully. He nodded and took a sip of his tea.


    ¡°I¡¯ve worked for Sanctuary Retort in the past. It¡¯s possible that was why I was chosen to come here. What can you tell me about the disappearances?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Not much, if I can be honest with you. When Anna Greenfield went missing a few months back, we thought she might have taken a liking to one of the travellers that pass through here from time to time.¡±


    ¡°She was always chatting them up, asking them about the outside world and whatnot. I lost count of the number of times she announced she would be leaving when she turned eighteen. No one thought it odd when she got up and left one day until we found out she had left most of her belongings behind.¡±


    ¡°Were there strangers in town when she went missing?¡± Mathew inquired, and the Mayor shook her head.


    ¡°No. There was a tinker passing through a few weeks before, but he would have been three towns over by the time Anna disappeared.¡± Eleanor answered.


    Mathew let out a sigh. Investigations were so much easier when he had his old Blessings. ¡®Truthsayer¡¯ to parse fact from fiction, ¡®Fear¡¯ to force everyone to compliance and eagerness to please. He was accustomed to having more problem-solving tools in his toolbelt.


    Unless he was willing to use ¡®Burst¡¯ to pop heads, ¡®Burn¡¯ to roast them or ¡®Break¡¯ to destroy most of the village, Mathew was stuck muddling his way through this Floor in the old fashion way.


    ¡°Anything strange happen in town around the same time? Do you have any concerns about animals or people in the surrounding area?¡± Mathew asked, unsure of how this world was situated. They lacked modern technology, and he didn¡¯t see them using magic, but they knew about the Tower and the gods.


    ¡°No, nothing like that. There may be problems like that up in the north, but we¡¯re protected here. The god of Sanctuary Retort shields us. We don¡¯t even require a town guard, not like those walled towns deeper on the Frontier.¡± Eleanor answered.


    ¡°So, no monsters and no strangers in town when Anna went missing¡­What about the others?¡± Mathew inquired as he finished his tea and set the empty cup on the table.


    ¡°John Frost didn¡¯t come home from cutting wood in the forest. His wife was in a tizzy until we sent someone to take a look. We thought he may have gotten drunk and hurt himself in the woods. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time that happened, but we found his axe next to the river, and we figured he must have fallen in.¡±


    ¡°Then there was poor Emily Harper. Sweet girl, only fourteen. She was gone from her bed when her parents woke up. But she was tied up with Liam Carter, I caught them making moon eyes at each other multiple times. When she went missing, Liam was gone too.¡±


    ¡°So you chalked that up to coincidence as well? Is that why you didn¡¯t report everything to the authorities?¡± Mathew questioned, and Eleanor shook her head slightly sadly.


    ¡°Mr. Larson, I don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like where you come from, but things are much harder here on the Frontier. People die or get lost or choose to leave for somewhere better. It¡¯s a tough life, and it¡¯s not for everyone. Last year, we lost every baby born in Dunsworth. Stillborn, every single one.¡± Eleanor said dejectedly.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. That must have been hard to go through.¡± Mathew said while his mind began to whirl. What would people be willing to do in that situation to end it?


    ¡°It was. So you can see why we were willing to overlook the circumstances of the missing and hope that it was a coincidence. But it has come to the point that we can no longer ignore it, which is why you are here.¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Mathew had experienced enough during his time in the Tower to understand human nature well. Even he had to do desperate things to survive. His deal with Unyielding Declaration was a perfect example of it. Could the people of Dunsworth be the same?


    Were the disappearances part of a larger conspiracy?


    ¡°Mayor, do any of the missing people have anything in common? Are they related in any way, have similar interests or visit a particular place at a certain time?¡± Mathew inquired, desperately trying to make a connection between the victims.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mr. Larson. I¡¯m afraid I can''t think of anything.¡± Eleanor replied, and Mathew could sense the dismissal in her voice. Thanking her for her time, Mathew left.


    He spent the rest of the day questioning some of the other residents. Some were more forthcoming than others, but not a single person gave him anything tangible to use in finding out what happened.


    When night came, and the villagers retreated into their home, Mathew wandered streets lit by only the bright moon and stars overhead. It was refreshing to be back to a time before artificial lights drowned out the brilliance of the cosmos.


    He was on the edge of the village, staring up at the stars and trying to trace the constellations when he felt it. There was a faint smell of blood on the air, something a normal person would never detect but familiar to someone who had spent decades, possibly even a century, emersed in violence and hardship.


    Mathew paused and took in his surroundings. He was near the forest on the outskirts of town, not far from where he had first arrived. Turning, he followed a small path through the woods until he arrived at a cave.


    He could hear faint voices coming from inside, and a faint light lit the darkness. Sneaking as well as he could with his bad leg, Mathew slowly approached the cave and crept inside. The small opening of the cave led to a large chamber.


    The walls were covered in tapestries decorated with various symbols and glyphs. In the center was a large wooden pole with runes carved into its surface. A young woman was bound to it, her arms raised above her head.


    She was unconscious but alive; Mathew could see that she was still breathing. Her pale skin was covered in cuts and bruises. Blood had accumulated on the ground around the pole, pooling in troughs that had been cut into the stone.


    The young woman wasn¡¯t alone; there were hooded figures surrounding her. A half dozen people in black robes were talking softly to each other. They stopped when Mathew entered and turned towards him.


    ¡°I apologize for the interruption, but I¡¯ve been sent to put a stop to what you¡¯re doing.¡± Mathew said politely as he walked into the chamber. There was no possibility of hiding his footsteps, not with his limp, so it was better to face the danger head-on.


    ¡°We¡¯re aware, Mr. Larson.¡± The lead, robed figure responded as she stepped forward and lowered her hood. Mayor Eleanor looked at him calmly from amongst the crowd as if she were expecting him.


    ¡°Ah, what¡¯s all this? A welcoming party?¡± Mathew asked, gesturing at the young woman, the pole and the group surrounding them.


    ¡°I felt it best that you conclude your business here as swiftly as possible, Mr. Larson. As you can see, we are responsible for those who are missing. With that mystery solved, you may leave us in peace.¡± Eleanor explained, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do that, but you already know that. Why are you doing this? I need to know for my investigation.¡± Mathew responded.


    ¡°The stillbirths were the result of a curse. Sanctuary Retort failed in its protection of our people, and we were forced to look for other methods. Another god provided us with a solution. Regular sacrifices in return for a future for our people.¡± Eleanor answered.


    ¡°Which god?¡± Mathew inquired, needing the answer. He doubted he could leave this Floor unless all the secrets were revealed and the threat dealt with.


    ¡°Malice Affirmation.¡± Eleanor responded.


    ¡°Never heard of them, but thank you. Alright, I can¡¯t let you all get away with sacrificing people. You have two choices: surrender peacefully and let Sanctuary Retort judge you or things get violent.¡± Mathew offered.


    Eleanor¡¯s response was to pull a small vial of black liquid out from beneath her robe and quickly toss it onto the stone. Immediately shattering, a dark mist of negative energy rose, and the robed figures began to chant, enticing their god to eliminate the threat.


    ¡°Malice Affirmation, I humbly request your intervention! Sphere of Fragile Mortality!¡± The black mist formed a perfect sphere in the air in front of them. Black tendrils began to emerge, shooting out from the sphere toward Mathew.


    He could feel the mana within it, an overwhelming, tainted magic that came from the life energy of multiple sacrifices and the will of those who controlled it. Behind it all, Mathew sensed the faint presence of a foreign god.


    It didn¡¯t directly interfere, but it was watching events unfold.


    ¡°Burn.¡± Mathew commanded, and the Word of Power struck the tendrils, coating them in a thick, white flame that swiftly swept down to the main body of the Sphere. Like water hitting a hot skillet, the black mist began to evaporate as the magical flames consumed it.


    Eleanor was shocked by the rapid turn of events, and before she could respond, Mathew pointed his finger at her.


    ¡°Burst.¡± Heads popped like balloons bursting, and the figures fell to the ground one after another. Effortlessly putting an end to the Cult, Mathew freed the young woman from her restraints just as a loud ¡®Ding¡¯ rang out.


    Floor 22 ¨C Village of the Damned (Completed)


    You have discovered that the source of the disappearances was a Cult dedicated to the god of Malice Affirmation. Putting an end to the members, you have freed their last sacrifice.


    The god of Sanctuary Retort is very pleased with your swift actions.


    The god of Unyielding Declaration is pleased with its Apostle.


    Reward: A Word of Power: Haze


    After delivering the young woman to the village to be helped, Mathew disappeared in a flash of white light.

 Chapter 197 – Floor 23: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 197</u> ¨C Floor 23: Part 1


    Floor 23 ¨C The Haunting of an Ancient Manor


    The last son of a long and noble lineage has recently inherited an old manor. Upon spending a night in the manor, the young man and his family were driven from their new home by ghostly apparitions and hostile hauntings.


    The god of Restful Awakenings requires you to solve this mystery and allow the deceased their deserved rest.


    Reward: Word of Power: Fear


    ¡®Fear¡¯ inspires terror in every person or creature in the range of the Speaker¡¯s Voice. It can be debilitating, with the Speaker transforming into an object of dread. Those who cannot control themselves will flee from you, while others will cower at the sight of your ghastly figure.


    Mathew emerged from the elevator after reading the description of the Floor to a large mansion flooded by moonlight. The fa?ade was made of brick and stone, its surface covered in moss and vines that grew up the side. The lawn in front was out of control, covered in weeds that were nearly waist height.


    The manor itself was gigantic, with four stories and dozens of dirty and cracked glass windows. It had the look of an old English noble house that had been neglected for centuries. The grounds surroundings it were in disrepair, and Mathew could see a line of trees in the distance.


    There were a few lights from within the buildings, and a pair of lightbulbs mutely glowing on the exterior cast a pitiful radiance. He could hear birds in the distance, and the sky above had a few clouds lit by the moons and the stars.


    Mathew walked forward, limping slightly from his bad leg. All the walking he had been doing through the village on the last Floor had caused it to ache, and he wanted nothing more than to sit down. Judging by the look of the manor and the Floor description, he wouldn¡¯t have much of a chance of doing that.


    A young woman was waiting in front of the manor, and she rushed down the steps from the front door as soon as she saw Mathew arrive.


    She was in her late twenties or early thirties, with long, brown hair that was parted in the middle and pulled back behind her ears. She wore thick glasses with gold frames, a pair of blue jeans with a white blouse and a brown jacket.


    The young woman was energetic as he hauled a large bag with her, overflowing with papers and books.


    ¡°Hello! You must be the expert we¡¯ve been promised to handle the investigation! My name is Rebecca; I¡¯m with the Palmer Historical Society!¡± Rebecca introduced herself, her words jumbling together in places due to her rapid pace. Before she had finished speaking, she was already sticking out her hand and gripping Mathew¡¯s while shaking it violently.


    Rebecca was evidently oblivious to Mathew¡¯s odd method of arrival, and he wasn¡¯t about to explain it to her. Instead, he smiled and nodded while returning her enthusiastic handshake.


    ¡°That¡¯s right. I¡¯m Mathew. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you.¡± Mathew replied.


    ¡°The pleasure is all mine! It¡¯s just so exciting! An honest-to-goodness chance to investigate the Ravenwood Manor! Of course, you don¡¯t need me to explain. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re well-versed in the history of Palmer¡¯ County¡¯s Ravenwood Manor!¡± Rebecca said.


    ¡°Actually, I don¡¯t. I honestly don¡¯t need to know much about its history to do my job.¡± Mathew stated, and he saw Rebecca¡¯s excitement fade slightly. Hurriedly, Mathew continued.


    ¡°But why don¡¯t you tell me? I¡¯m always interested in history.¡± Mathew lied. While it wouldn¡¯t necessarily aid him in his efforts to solve the Manor¡¯s ghost problem, it wouldn¡¯t hurt either. Maybe she could tell him something useful.


    Rebecca lit up like a light bulb. Pulling out a small notepad from her bag, she flipped it open.


    ¡°Alright! I knew you would be interested. Honestly, most people don¡¯t take the stories about the Manor seriously, but it¡¯s just so interesting! Especially since the last Ravencroft died a few years ago.¡± Rebecca began, and Mathew listened as they slowly made their way to the front door.


    ¡°So, in the 1700¡¯s. Ravenwood Manor was built by the Ravenscroft family, whose fortunes had risen from trade ships bringing back tea and spices from the East, while also engaging in a healthy amount of smuggling. But things got really interesting when, in the 1800s, members of the family began dropping like flies.¡± Rebbecca began while Mathew carefully navigated the wooden steps to the front door.


    The wood was splintered and rotten, and he was cautious of his footing while gripping the railing. Testing the door, he found it was unlocked and pushed it open into the main foyer.


    ¡°Like flies?¡± Mathew asked with curiosity as he took in his surroundings. The room had obviously once been incredibly opulent, but was now covered in a thick layer of dust. Blankets and sheets covered the furniture, and the wallpaper on the walls was peeling.


    There was a gigantic chandelier overhead that was almost entirely obscured by spider webs. In front of Mathew were two hallways that led deeper into the first level, while a double staircase led upstairs.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Yes. Starting in the 1850¡¯s, every member of the Ravencroft family perished under tragic and accidental circumstances. Several died during the World Wars, others by falling off of balconies or at sea. I can go through them if you want; they are really quite fascinating.¡± Rebecca explained, already pulling out another book from her bag.


    ¡°That¡¯s won¡¯t be necessary. Perhaps later, after we explored a bit. How about you, Rebecca? Why are you involved in this investigation?¡± Mathew asked, changing the topic.


    He didn¡¯t have the patience to listen to a complete list of all the previous owners of the manor, especially since he was just here to put an end to a cursed item or lingering spirit. Mathew could always ask for more information if he got stuck along the way.


    ¡°Me? The new owners asked me to provide you with a history of the manor. Well, they first asked for the history while planning renovations. But after what happened to them, they thought it best to give you as much information as possible to do your job.¡± Rebecca replied.


    ¡°What happened to the current owners?¡± Mathew asked as he began to explore the foyer. Aside from some old furniture and a few paintings on the walls, there was nothing of interest here. At least the electricity worked.


    He flicked a switch as the chandelier burst into light, although most of the bulbs were burnt out.


    ¡°They were taking a tour of the buildings with several of their contractors when they claim to have been chased out by ghosts! A ridiculous thing, as if ghosts were real.¡± Rebeccas scoffed, and Mathew stopped his exploration and turned to look at her.


    ¡°You don¡¯t believe in ghosts? Then what do you think I¡¯m doing here?¡± Mathew asked, and Rebecca looked confused.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you here to investigate the contents of the house and catalogue them?¡± Rebecca replied in confusion, and Mathew smiled at her.


    ¡°Sure, that¡¯s exactly right. Just¡­stick close to me, in case this place really is haunted. I wouldn¡¯t want you getting carried off by ghosts.¡± Mathew said, his tone joking even though he meant the words. Relieved that he was just teasing her, Rebecca relaxed.


    ¡°Do you know if the Ravensmiths found any items of interest in the 1800¡¯s? Or maybe they had an encounter with something and wrote about it in one of your history books?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Ravenscroft.¡± Rebecca responded absentmindedly at Mathew, saying the wrong name while she thought about it.


    ¡°I can¡¯t think of anything off-hand. I could take another look at the trade manifests from the time when they were active, but nothing stood out after my initial review. They dealt with a large number of antiquities; the family had a taste for exotic art. Most of it was sold off when the family declined during the early 20<sup>th</sup> century.¡± Rebecca offered, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary. Let¡¯s have a look around and see if we can find anything that stands out. Keep an eye out for anything that looks¡­.odd.¡± Mathew finished. He was already walking through the hallway on the right when Rebecca caught up to him.


    ¡°Odd, how?¡± Rebecca asked, and Mathew shrugged.


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know.¡± Mathew responded. Opening the first door he came to, he peeked in and saw a small sitting room. The furniture inside was also covered in white sheets, along with everything else inside. Not noticing anything of interest and not feeling anything out of place, he closed the door and continued.


    ¡°Maybe something that looks out of place or incredibly valuable but not sold off? That sort of thing.¡± Mathew continued.


    Pushing open another door, this one to another storage room, he closed it after a quick search. He was about to keep walking down the hall when the lights flickered, and the temperature dropped. He could see his breath mist, and Rebecca shivered beside him.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on? Why did it get so cold all of a sudden?¡± Rebecca asked. Subtly, Mathew stepped in front of her as the lights completely failed, and a faint glow appeared at the end of the hallway.


    ¡°Get OUT!¡± A scream cut through the night. It rattled the windows and shook the floorboards beneath their feet. The keening wail was followed by a ghostly apparition that emerged from the glowing light at the end of the hall.


    Rebecca had never been so terrified before in her life. It felt like someone was gripping her heart and squeezing it. Tears fell from her eyes, and her legs turned to jelly. She began to shake violently in fear, her teeth clicking together as she shivered.


    Mathew observed the ghost calmly. He felt the ¡®Buzz¡¯ in the back of his neck, the faint presence that spoke of danger, but not an overwhelming amount of it. He was at risk, but it was more than manageable with his current abilities.


    The apparition was of a middle-aged woman. It wore a long, white dress that was covered in bright red blood. There was a gaping wound on her neck, and her head was tilted to the side. Rather than being scared at her appearance, Mathew was feeling relieved.


    ¡°This is perfect; it saves me the trouble of looking for you.¡± Mathew muttered while raising his hand and pointing at the floating apparition that was gliding down the hall toward him.


    ¡°Burn.¡± Mathew commanded, and a white flame immediately coated the ghost¡¯s body. The haunting wail changed in tone, going from a mixture of sadness, longing and anger to a deep fear and agony. The flames burned through the glow of light that surrounded the apparition.


    ¡°What¡­What did you do?¡± Rebecca gasped in shock.


    ¡°Hmm? Oh, nothing much. Just trying to get it to cooperate. Hey, you!¡± Mathew called out to the ghost, who was still wailing and screaming as the flames consumed her.


    ¡°Can you understand me?!¡± Mathew shouted. He approached the ghost as quickly as he could, snapping his fingers trying to get its attention, but it kept shrieking in pain.


    ¡°Screw it.¡± Mathew grumbled. Waving his hand, he let the flames sweep over the ghost, burning it to nothing but a small pile of ash that covered the floor where the ghost had been.


    ¡°Come on. It came from that direction, which is likely where the source of the haunting is located.¡± Mathew stated, gesturing for Rebecca to follow closely.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Rebecca managed to say, her voice shaky.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew found the cursed object in a small storage room near the basement. Tucked behind some large pieces of furniture, he only had to follow the drop in temperature to locate it. A small statue of a woman, its eyes were bleeding and in its hands were a blood-covered dagger and a tiny book with symbols on it.


    Not bothering to study it further, Mathew used ¡®Break¡¯ to destroy it. When the statue shattered, a ghostly wail erupted from the pieces, along with a ghostly apparition that hovered for a moment before dissipating.


    ¡°There we go, all done.¡± Mathew said as he dusted his hands off from where they had gotten dirty from moving some of the furniture. Turning to look at the stunned Rebecca, Mathew flashed her a smile as he was engulfed in white light.


    ¡°You probably don¡¯t want to tell anyone what happened here; I doubt they will believe you.¡±

 Chapter 198 – Floor 24: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 198</u> ¨C Floor 24: Part 1


    Floor 24: The Timeworn Crypt


    Deep beneath the earth lies the resting place of a Magus who studied the mysteries of time and space. The gods require your assistance to delve into the depths of this tomb and return an item from the library within.


    Wedged between territories of rival Divine Factions, a neutral party has been selected for this task. There will be no interference from outside forces. Once entered, you will be removed from all communication with the surface.


    Note: Shop and Inventory services will be sealed.


    Reward: Word of Power: Shift


    With the understanding of the Word of Power: Shift, you will be able to swap your physical location with any object or person within sight. Subject to a momentary delay, as your understanding of the Language of the Celestials increases, so too will your control of ¡®Shift¡¯ rise.


    ¡°Oh goody, a long forgotten tomb cut off from the outside world. Fantastic.¡± Mathew muttered sarcastically as the white light faded and he exited the elevator next to a chasm that stretched into the distance in both directions.


    The ground was barren rock and Mathew couldn¡¯t see a single sign of life in any direction. The chasm was endless black after only a few hundred feet and it caused the wind to howl as it blew through it. Aside from Mathew and the chasm, there was a small statue of a robed man set into a rock with a small plaque beneath it.


    There appeared to be the remains of offerings beneath, melted candles and scraps of rubbish that had likely part of packages or items. People had obviously travelled to this place in the past, but it had been a while since the last offering had been left behind.


    Mathew leaned closer to get a look at the plaque. Thankfully, the sun was still above him and he estimated that he had a few hours left before night arrived. Strangely enough, there was no name or dates on the plaque, instead it was a short message.


    ¡®As day wanes, so does the path reveal,


    When the sun¡¯s light begins to kneel.


    Stairs concealed in the twilight¡¯s hue,


    Guide the way when dusk comes to view.¡¯


    ¡°Could have just said, ¡®The stairs will appear when the sun sets.¡¯¡± Mathew grumbled, already disliking this Floor. He had a feeling it was going to be all riddles and puzzles, something that he never enjoyed. Looking up at the sun again to judge the time, Mathew found a shady place to sit and wait.


    Taking out some snacks from his inventory, that thankfully hadn¡¯t been sealed yet, he planned to enjoy the little time he had before the annoying part started.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Ethereal and palely glowing stairs appeared as soon as the sun began to touch the horizon. Putting away his snacks and drinks, Mathew brushed himself off and followed them down into the chasm. Testing the first step with his foot, he wasn¡¯t surprised when it felt similar to crystal.


    The descent only took a few minutes, even with Mathew¡¯s bad leg, but by the time he reached the bottom, the blue sky above was completely absent. Instead, it was replaced by pitch-black darkness. The stairway disappeared as soon as Mathew touched the rocky ground of the chasm bottom.


    But before he could stumble or look around in his inventory for a light, two globes of bright, incandescent white burst into being. Held by twin statues of the same man as above, Mathew let out a snort.


    ¡°Not so humble, are you.¡± Mathew mocked the statues as he walked forward and pushed against the door that was situated between the two statues. It opened effortlessly, releasing a gust of long-sealed, dusty air.


    Coughing, Mathew entered the crypt. However, a palace would have been more of an apt description.


    The floor below his feet was made of white marble, and the walls were covered in paintings and tapestries lit by braziers that contained a magical fire burning merrily even after all the years that the tombs had been sealed.


    Passing through a wide hallway that held only a faint layer of dust, Mathew came to a large chamber. High-ceilinged and brightly lit, the room contained several objects that interested Mathew. A sealed door was at the other end of the room, and two large, gold-framed mirrors faced each other.


    Scattered across the room were dozens, if not hundreds, of other tiny mirrors of various shapes and configurations. Carefully stepping around the small mirrors so as to not disturb them, Mathew walked to the door and tried to open it.


    As expected, it was sealed tightly. Stepping back, Mathew raised his hand and pointed at the door.


    ¡°Break.¡± Mathew used the Word of Power and waited expectantly for the door to crumble. When, after a moment, nothing happened, he let out a frustrated sigh.


    ¡°Right¡­no outside interference. Shit.¡± Mathew cursed and ran his fingers through his hair. He was about to look around the room for something to use to pry the door open, when a voice spoke.


    ¡°Greetings, Stranger in Search of My Secrets.¡±


    ¡°I would greet you properly, but alas, I am long dead.¡±


    ¡°Are you a fan of puzzles?¡±


    ¡°I absolutely adored them, and so I have designed this place as a test to ensure that those who enter share my love for them.¡±


    ¡°There will be five chambers, all similar to this one before you can claim your prize! How fun! Oh, how I wish I could have been there to see the look of joy on your face! Now, let us begin with the first puzzle.¡±


    ¡°I have named it ¡®The Mirror Chamber.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Clever.¡± Mathew mocked.


    ¡°Reflections dance in silver light,


    Two faces meet and alight just right. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    In mirrored gaze, the path is found,


    Guide the beams where truth is bound.¡±


    A small section of the ceiling retracted and a beam of white light shot down and struck the ground. Meanwhile, the hundreds of small mirrors began to rise up and float in the air, while a single mirror flew toward Mathew, who snatched it into his hand before it could strike his chest.


    ¡°Alright, redirect the light into¡­that symbol?¡± Mathew guessed as he looked around and saw a small symbol appear above the door. Hefting the mirror, he got to work.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Ahh!! I hate puzzles!!¡± Mathew shouted as the seal on the door was disrupted, and it silently opened. Throwing the small mirror down onto the ground in disgust and frustration, Mathew stomped his way to the door while making sure to kick every mirror in his path.


    It had taken him a solid hour or more to get through the chamber. It was more of a tedious task than a puzzle, but the small mirrors had a habit of going out of alignment when he wasn¡¯t looking, making it even more arduous.


    Passing through the door, he barely noticed when it closed behind him.


    Mathew was in another chamber, which was identical to the last in shape and size, except the objects inside differed. Rather than mirrors, this one contained a dozen different archways that led to identical chambers with more archways inside.


    Each of the passageways had a different coloured frame or a different symbol above it, or shape and size. If there were more passageways beyond the ones he could see here, Mathew had no idea how massive this room could be.


    ¡°Puzzle number 2! Oh, I¡¯m sure you are eager for more! Now, this chamber is called ¡®The Sequential Doorway.¡± The voice said, before clearing its throat and speaking in a sing-song, rhyming voice.


    ¡°In the realm where time is but a thread,


    Colours dance where footsteps tread.


    First the hue of Sunset¡¯s Flames,


    Then the shade where shadows claim.


    Follow the path of dawn¡¯s first light,


    Next the twilight¡¯s deepening might.


    Finally, the midnight¡¯s dark embrace,


    Align them well to find your place.¡±


    ¡°Can you repeat that?!¡± Mathew shouted, only to be answered with silence. Frustrated beyond measure, Mathew began to mutter the parts of the rhyme that he remembered. Looking around at the doors, he entered the first one, which was a bright orange.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Just send the undead after me! Or goblins! Anything but more rhymes and puzzles!¡± Mathew screamed as he stumbled through the doorway. It had taken him an embarrassingly long amount of time to figure out the sequence in the previous chamber.


    If he still had his enhanced memory, it would have been simple, but with his reduced ¡®Mind¡¯ attribute, his lacked that eidetic memory he used to possess.


    The next chamber Mathew entered was similar to the previous two, with grey walls and the same marble floor that had been a staple throughout the entire tomb. This room had thousands of random objects covering the floor and walls.


    There were toys and gadgets, pieces of furniture and pieces of art. The walls had switches and valves, things to toggle on and off or twist and turn. There were even ropes and chains descending from the roof, some with bells or chimes that would ring out faintly from time to time.


    ¡°What the hell is this?!¡± Mathew cursed, his frustration reaching a new level. He wished for nothing more than to blast this entire tomb out of existence and take its creator with it.


    ¡°The Echoing Chamber!¡± The voice of the chamber''s creator rang out, and Mathew listened carefully. After the last chamber, he knew he needed to remember every word it said.


    ¡°In echoes old, the truth shall show,


    Their actions clear, their paths will glow.


    Move as they did through shadowed dance,


    To open the gate and seize your chance.


    Follow their steps, each gesture bold,


    The silent guides from tales of old.


    Err and suffer, heed the cost,


    A false step here will leave you lost.¡±


    When the verse ended, ghostly apparitions began to rise up from the floor near the entrance. They were men and women wearing a variety of outfits. Some were clearly warriors, others mages. Tall and short, young and old, there were a multitude of them.


    One by one they would step forward and interact with the objects in the room. Some would pick up a toy or small trinket and fiddle with it in a certain way or toggle a switch off and wait a moment before turning it back on.


    Several even walked in a peculiar way, carefully avoiding certain sections of the floor while stomping hard on others.


    ¡°Great. Just great.¡± Mathew let out a deep breath and hunkered down to memorize what the visions were doing.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°This can¡¯t be fun. I mean, I hate doing it, so it couldn¡¯t have been a blast for this idiot to design it. Maybe he¡¯ll get bored, and things will drop off at the end?¡± Mathew talked to himself as he flicked a switch, waited for exactly three seconds and turned it back on.


    The door slid open, and Mathew was finally free.


    Entering the third chamber, Mathew was stunned. This chamber was well beyond the size of the others. It stretched miles into the distance in every direction. There were staircases that led upwards, archways to different rooms and levels, while other walkways and stairs led nowhere.


    ¡°What the?¡± Mathew said, confused. He couldn¡¯t find the doorway anywhere. Worse, his sense of direction immediately went out of control, and he had the odd sensation of going up and down, switching places.


    Mathew quickly knelt on one knee and closed his eyes as his stomach heaved. It felt like he was dropping through the air or was underwater and couldn¡¯t find which direction was up.


    ¡°In shifting space where steps may stray,


    Seek the lights that show the way.


    Find the beacons, one by one,


    To stabilize where paths are spun.


    Activate the symbols, old becomes new,


    When light and patterns guide you through.


    The room will settle, the path will clear,


    And soon you¡¯ll find the exit near.


    Mathew opened his eyes to see the room was completely dark. The walls and floors began to shift, flickering in and out of existence while the staircases, walkways and doors would vibrate and move. In a small section in front of him, Mathew could see a hovering orb of white light.


    The orb seemed to be stabilizing the room, preventing it from shifting. A quick look revealed several more orbs in the room, but they were not activated. Each had a symbol beneath them.


    ¡°Right, I just have to find my way through this mess without losing my mind.¡± Mathew muttered as he stood. He was immediately off balance and had to grip a nearby wall to keep from falling.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew stumbled through the door and immediately fell to his hands and knees. He proceeded to vomit the entire contents of his stomach onto the clean, marble floor. Despite being stationary, the room still felt like it was spinning.


    The previous puzzle had been as much about planning his route and navigating a confusing, ever-changing chamber as much as a test of his endurance. Now that he was out, Mathew wanted nothing more than to never see another puzzle again for the rest of his life.


    Spitting on the ground, Mathew stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.


    ¡°One more.¡± He muttered, looking around the room.


    There was a giant hour-glass in the center of the chamber, surrounded by orbiting orbs shaped like planets in their solar system, the sun and moon, comets, and various constellations. It was incredible, and Mathew, despite his hatred of the magus who created this place, marvelled at its design.


    ¡°Ah, you¡¯ve reached the end of my tomb and the location of my greatest creation. I have studied our solar system for a long time, taking great pleasure in observing celestial objects. But alas, my time grew short. Time and space are inextricably linked and the subject of this last puzzle.¡±


    ¡°Before you is an hourglass that represents our fleeting time in this world, along with a model of the cosmos.¡±


    ¡°In a chamber where time flows and sways,


    Celestial patterns light your ways.


    Alight the sand with the stars¡¯ bright dance,


    To reveal the path and give your chance.¡±


    Mathew looked up when the ceiling retracted to reveal a representation of the night sky. It was breathtaking in its scale, but Mathew knew that it wasn¡¯t the real sky. He was currently deep underground, and what he saw was just an illusion.


    The sand in the hourglass wasn¡¯t flowing, and Mathew suspected that as he turned the model of the planets and stars in the correct direction, that would solve the puzzle and drain the hourglass. Using the sky as a guide, Mathew started working on the model.


    After a few days of work, Mathew finished. Hungry, exhausted and parched, he sat next to the hourglass as the last grain of sand fell to the bottom. The hourglass retracted into the ground, revealing a staircase. Following it to the bottom, Mathew came to an empty library that contained only a single book.


    Picking it up, he disappeared in a flash of white light.

 Chapter 199 – Floor 25: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 199</u> ¨C Floor 25: Part 1


    Floor 25 ¨C Blood and Neon in the Crimson Quarter.


    The famed ¡®Crimson Quarter¡¯ of Harborview, where sailors and traders from all over the continent would stop to visit the many Taverns, Restaurants and Brothels of the Boardwalk Promenade. A place where the alcohol flows freely, the foods is heavenly and women as lovely as the moon.


    Recently, Harborview has encountered a problem. Men have been found dead each morning, whether in their beds or lying face down in the alley come sunrise. Fingers have been pointed at the five Brothels of the Crimson Quarter and there is plenty of accusations being levied.


    An investigation has led to no suspects and no answer, leading the detectives to suspect a more supernatural cause.


    The god of Ubiquitous Transaction, Patron of the Crimson Quarter, has procured your services to investigate the culprit. A succubus has concealed herself amongst the courtesans.


    Goal: Find the culprit amongst the Five Brothels of the Crimson Quarter and eliminate it.


    Reward: Word of Power: Shield


    Form a barrier of Celestial Energy around you, protecting you from most mundane attacks. More focused, magical or enhanced attacks will require direct intervention from the Speaker, timed at the moment of impact.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°Gods damn it Jorin, how many times have I told you not to blow smoke in my face! Stand downwind if you¡¯re going to smoke.¡±


    ¡°You know, Mira, you were so much easier to be around before you quit. Now you¡¯re nothing but a ball of stress. You need to learn how to relax or you¡¯re going to have a heart attack.¡± Jorin responded, his lips still wrapped around the cigarette in his mouth.


    ¡°What I need is for this guy to show up already. Six murders in as many nights, and I don¡¯t want to make it seven.¡± Mira replied.


    The pair were detectives assigned to the Crimson Quarter murders. So far, things had been pretty quiet with only a few people making the connection with the Brothels. Most blamed drugs for the deaths, but the more bodies they found, they more this thing would blow up.


    Jorin reached up and pulled the cigarette from his mouth and gave it a flick to remove the ash from the end.


    Tall and grizzled, he was a veteran detective who had been on the force for decades. With a permanent five o¡¯clock shadow, a creased shirt with necktie askew and a long trench coat that had seen as many years of service as he had, Jorin Blackwood was a legend.


    His partner, on the other hand, was nearly the exact opposite. Mira Kincaid was short, impeccably dressed and severe. Her hair was pulled tightly into a bun, which was as tightly wound as the woman¡¯s nerves.


    Where Jorin relied on intuition and ¡®gut feelings,¡¯ Mira did everything by the book.


    The pair were waiting on the edge of the Crimson Quarter, near the entrance by the docks. The wooden promenade was already filling with people, foreigners and locals alike. Harborview was one of the busiest towns on the eastern seaboard, a trader¡¯s paradise that connected the United Territories to Europa.


    The neon lights were already burning brightly, driving away the creeping darkness of twilight. The water had gone from a bright blue to an inky black, its presence only known by the lapping waves hitting the wharf.


    The Crimson Quarter brought in nearly as much money in tax revenue as the docks themselves, and the higher ups didn¡¯t want anything disrupting that. Death and murder were bad for business, and they had been pressuring Jorin and Mira to catch the culprit as quickly as possible.


    Unfortunately, the pair had zero leads.


    Each of the victims had been regulars at all the Brothels, not to mention the copious bars and taverns. For liberal users of opiates and narcotics, it was difficult to narrow down what exactly killed them. The coroner had listed organ failure and heart attacks, but it didn¡¯t match the ages or physical conditions of the victims.


    Young men didn¡¯t just go around dying in alleys and in their beds for no reason.


    ¡°What do you know about this guy, anyway?¡± Mira asked as she pulled her black coat tighter around her. There was a chill in the air as the sun set, an indication that summer was ending and fall would be arriving soon.


    ¡°Nothing. But I know the type. Mystic, experts on the occult and the supernatural. I had dealings with them in the past. You better watch yourself, they¡¯re all eccentric and don¡¯t take kindly to questions.¡± Jorin replied.


    Finishing his smoke, Jorin flicked the butt into the water.


    ¡°From that thing a few years ago? I heard some rumours about it.¡± Mira inquired, curious about why Jorin had to work with a Mystic.


    ¡°Yeah, it wasn¡¯t pretty. Boat came into the harbour, no one on board. Searched it from stem to stern, and we couldn¡¯t find a single clue as to what happened. It looked like the whole crew just up and left it to drift.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t until the replacement crew started going missing that we knew something wasn¡¯t right.¡± Jorin explained as he pulled another cigarette out of the case in his pocket and lit it.


    ¡°What was the cause?¡± Mira asked curiously, absent mindedly waving off the smoke that drifted her way.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. The Mystic went in for a while and we all pulled back and let her do her work. She came out covered in blood and told us it was safe. That was it.¡± Jorin replied with a shrug of his shoulder, as if he didn¡¯t care to learn the cause.


    ¡°How do you even know she did anything?¡± Mira questioned, and Jorin cocked his head to the side and looked at her.


    ¡°No one else went missing after that. Case closed, and everyone was happy. Hold on, here¡¯s our guy.¡± Jorin said as he placed the cigarette back in his mouth and gestured to the end of the street, where someone was walking slowly toward them.


    It was a young man in jeans and a black jacket. He walked with a pronounced limp in his right leg, practically dragging it down the street. There was something about him that unsettled Mira, an insight from her years of police work.


    This young man was incredibly dangerous.


    ¡°That¡¯s him.¡± Jorin said, and Mira turned to look at him.


    ¡°How can you tell?¡± Neither of the detectives had been informed of the Mystics identity, only that someone would meet them in the Crimson Quarter shortly.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°He has that same look as the other Mystic I met.¡± Jorin replied. He was unwilling to go into further explanation as he walked forward and stopped in front of the young man. The Mystic''s eyes locked onto Jorin¡¯s, and the detective felt a shiver go down his spine.


    There was something unsettling about Mystics, as if they were barely human.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to meet some detectives. Are you them?¡± The young man asked. Jorin nodded and then proceeded to introduce himself and Mira.


    ¡°I¡¯m Mathew. The Tower sent me. I heard you have a succubus in one of the Brothels?¡± Mathew said, sticking out his hand to shake both of theirs, starting with Jorin.


    ¡°The Tower?¡± Mira asked. Her voice overlapped with Jorin as he said, ¡°Succubus?¡±


    ¡°The Tower is where the Mystics come from.¡± Jorin explained to Mira before Mathew continued.


    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t know much about what a Succubus is. I¡¯ve read that it¡¯s a demon in human form that feeds on its lovers. I suppose a Brothel is the perfect spot for one.¡± Mathew explained nonchalantly, as if talking about demons were everyday occurrences.


    Perhaps it was for the young man. Mira hadn¡¯t heard a single thing about Mystics or the Tower before tonight, their briefing with the chief of police having just said that an expert would be arriving soon to assist them with the investigation.


    ¡°Do you want to get started?¡± Mathew asked the detectives. He thought it was better to have the pair show him around first before trying to find the succubus. They led him into the Crimson Quarter, but Mira was disappointed to see Mathew not react to the sights around him.


    There were entertainment establishments everywhere. People performed on the streets, while others were advertising their services. There were scantly clad women walking in pairs, with only the burning braziers and heating lamps keeping them warm in the cold.


    While they walked, Mathew¡¯s eyes scanned the crowd like someone expecting to be attacked at any moment.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell me about the Brothels?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Well, we didn¡¯t know that they were the source of the problems. A lot of people get into trouble here, especially if they go looking for it. Each of the victims were regulars at the Big Five, but they were also drug addicts and drunks. You¡¯re sure it was a demon that did this?¡± Mira asked, her voice going soft at the word ¡®demon¡¯ so that no one around them could hear.


    ¡°Yeah, the Tower doesn¡¯t lie about things like that. If it says it¡¯s a demon, then that¡¯s what it is. We can ignore everywhere else apart from the Brothels.¡± Mathew explained. Mira was about to argue when Jorin shook his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s just like last time. If the Mystic says it''s in the Brothel, that¡¯s where we look.¡± Jorin interjected, and Mira reluctantly nodded.


    ¡°Fine. What do you want to know about them?¡± Mira asked before giving a brief rundown of each.


    The Gilded Lily was the most luxurious of the five, catering to those who sought high-class entertainment. They hired only the most beautiful and sophisticated ladies for their guests pleasure.


    ¡°Alright, cream of the crop type of place. Got it.¡± Mathew responded, to which Jiran added.


    ¡°That one will be the most trouble to investigate; Madame is well connected.¡±


    Mathew seemed unconcerned about it, indicating to Mira that she should continue her explanation.


    The Sapphire Veil valued their client''s discretion to the point that everyone, even the staff, was required to wear masks inside. It was said that they would die before revealing their guest''s identity.


    ¡°That¡¯s a good place to start.¡± Mathew said.


    The Moonshadow Lounge was the premier entertainment venue, having theatre performances every night along with the finest musicians in the country.


    The Whispering Rose valued romantic encounters and a relaxing atmosphere. It combined a Brothel with a spa and promised to leave its guests relaxed beyond measure when they left.


    Finally, there was The Amber Elysium. It appealed to those looking for the exotic. Foreign beauties, wines and food.


    ¡°We¡¯ll start with the Veil place first. Sounds perfect for a demon looking to feed discretely. Were any of the victims high class or have a lot of money?¡± Mathew asked, and Mira shook her head.


    ¡°Not especially. Several were above average, and you have to visit the Brothels every night, but none of them were extremely wealthy.¡±


    ¡°Then we can rule out the rich place for now. After the Sapphire Veil, we¡¯ll visit the Amber Elysium. It could be that our Demon is from far away and is taking advantage of a new location. If neither of those pan out, we¡¯ll knock the rest off.¡± Mathew ordered.


    The Sapphire Veil was a massive four-story structure that took up a large section of the Promenade. Masked and veiled guests enjoyed wine and food on the open balconies above while the detectives could hear the sound of conversation, laughter and music.


    ¡°The Madame here values discretion and only goes by Lady Fox.¡± Jorin warned as the trio entered. Immediately, the detectives attracted the attention of the staff. In only a few moments, an older woman wearing a blue dress and a white fox mask seductively sashayed towards them.


    ¡°Detectives. How may I assist you this evening.¡± Lady Fox said in a tone that said she was anything but pleased by their presence. She kept her voice soft, and her body blocked them from the guests behind her.


    Limping forward, Mathew spoke.


    ¡°I need all your guests to leave. Have all your girls line up here; I want to talk to them all. Don¡¯t try to leave anyone out, that will just make things harder and I don¡¯t like wasting my time.¡±


    Lady Fox froze for a moment at Mathew¡¯s harsh tone, and the detectives could tell he had crossed a line with the Madame.


    ¡°How dare you! Do you understand the type of clientele I have here? I can have you-¡±


    Mathew responded in an odd way. He slowly raised his hand and pointed at a statue behind her. It was of a nude woman, beautifully carved from marble, and, if Jorin was correct, depicted as Madame herself from her youth.


    ¡°Break.¡± The statue crumbled. It was as if whatever was holding the individual grains of stone inside it released their grip. Marble pieces spilled onto the ground as the detectives, the Madame and several of the guests watched in amazement.


    ¡°Gather the ladies and disperse your guests, or I¡¯ll tear this whole godsdamned building apart.¡± Mathew threatened, his voice soft and filled with steel.


    In short order, the Madame was hurrying guests out of the door while the Ladies of the Brothel gathered in the main floor. After only a few minutes, the doors to the Sapphire Veil were closed, and Madame breathlessly assured Mathew that no one was missing.


    Mathew had a commanding presence despite the fact that he was standing in front of the finely dressed women who were all wearing masks of different animals or fantastical creatures or veils of different colours, and he was wearing jeans and a black jacket.


    His voice echoed loudly off the walls as his boots crunched over the remains of the marble statue.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to hunt a demon. A succubus that lives off the life energy of her victims, and I¡¯m sure that she is hiding in one of the Brothels here.¡± Mathew explained, his eyes scanning over the crowd.


    ¡°Excuse me, Mathew. Perhaps we should separate them and ask them some questions while Jorin searches the premises?¡± Mira asked, referring to the procedure they would normally use for their investigations.


    Mathew looked over to her and smiled.


    ¡°Normally, that would be perfect. But I have a better way. I¡¯m going to say a single word to these Ladies, and if the demon is here, we¡¯ll know.¡± Mathew assured them. Turning back to the gathered women, Mathew raised his hand as he had done before and spoke.


    ¡°Fear¡±


    The air thrummed with a strange power, and an unearthly wail erupted from all directions. Everyone gathered saw the young man in front of them shift and morph. He grew taller, his skin reddened, and two large, batlike wings burst from his shoulder blades. Horns grew from his forehead, and a baleful aura exploded from him.


    Mathew had transformed into a devil.


    There were screams and cries as people began to run in every direction, desperate to leave. Mira felt her legs give out, and she collapsed onto the ground while Jorin began fumbling for his gun, his nervous fingers unable to grip the weapon to draw it from its holster.


    ¡°Ah, there you are.¡± The Devilish Mathew said, his voice malevolent, and fire spilled from his lips. His eyes were locked on a single, beautiful woman who seemed to be unaffected by him. She was standing and staring at him in hatred.


    Not waiting, Mathew raised a hand that had turned into a cloven hoof in Mira¡¯s eyes and pointed it at the Succubus.


    ¡°Burst.¡±


    <u>Page Break</u>


    ¡°How did you do that?¡± Mira asked as the trio were outside in the fresh night air. She had recovered a bit from the terror Mathew had inspired in her.


    The Succubus was dead; its head exploded in a geyser of blood and flesh. With her death, Mathew had reverted to his original form as if nothing had happened.


    ¡°Do what?¡± Mathew asked as he took a bite of a hotdog he had Jorin buy from a nearby vendor. Washing it down with a soda, the young man looked nothing like the devil they had just witnessed.


    ¡°Transform! Is that your true body?! Are you a demon!?¡± Mira asked, her voice breathless and hoarse. Mathew laughed loudly at the comment.


    ¡°Transform? No, I didn¡¯t transform. That Word of Power just makes you see something terrifying. If I could transform into a giant demon, do you think I would have bothered even talking to that Madame? I would have just marched in and scared the hell out of everyone.¡± Mathew explained.


    Finishing his hot dog and soda, he threw the trash in a bin and stood up.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s been fun. Both of you take care.¡±


    And with that, he disappeared in a flash of light. The detectives looked at where he had just been before Jorin spoke.


    ¡°You¡¯re good with doing the paperwork, right?¡±

 Chapter 200 – Floor 26: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 200</u> ¨C Floor 26: Part 1


    Floor 26 ¨C A Caravan Across the Winter-Blight Badlands.


    The Winter-Blight Badlands is a desolate and treacherous expanse stretching hundreds of miles. A frost-covered wasteland that contains nothing more than jagged ice formations, barren rock and dunes of hoarfrost crystals.


    A pale, icy mist shrouds the entirety of the Badlands, making navigating the expanse difficult for all but the most seasoned guides.


    Despite the harsh conditions, the Winter-Blight Badlands are a crucial route for those seeking to trade in the hospitable and wealthy regions on either side.


    Crossing the Winter-Blight Badlands is a test of endurance and skill.


    Caravans must be prepared for sudden snowstorms, ice-covered terrain that can cause vehicles and animals to slip, and the ever-present threat of frostbite.


    It requires careful planning, sturdy equipment, and the expertise of seasoned guides familiar with the shifting patterns of the land and the few creatures that inhabit this wasteland.


    The owner of a Caravan has requested the assistance of the God of Alchemical Concoctions to see their goods across the Winter-Blight Badlands.


    Escort the Caravan and ensure that it arrives intact.


    Reward: Word of Power: Hide


    Blend in with the shadows and your environment. Eyes will be more likely to slide past your location, not taking heed to your presence.


    Mathew buttoned his jacket and adjusted the thick wool scarf around his neck. The cold was biting, reminding him of his time on the Punishment Floor. The wind blew incessantly, and the flat, barren ground meant there was no shelter aside from a few rocks or a small crack in the land.


    He had never seen snow like this before. It was like small, sharp crystals that refused to stick together. Instead, it gathered in areas like sand dunes. Some of the snow drifts rose hundreds of feet into the air, and even the heavy wind could move them.


    Thankfully, Mathew had accumulated enough Aether in the last few Floors to outfit himself in thick winter¡¯s clothing and survival gear.


    Midnight, Mathew¡¯s magical horse, let out a snort and shook the snow free of its black mane. Despite being a statue infused with mana, Mathew had purchased the animal a thick blanket and other clothing to protect it from the cold.


    If they were going to be traveling across this wasteland together, it was the least he could do.


    Shading his eyes from the sun¡¯s glare, Mathew was thankful that the Shop had a pair of sunglasses for purchase. He couldn¡¯t imagine how the others in their caravan were faring against the harsh sunlight reflecting off the endless, sparkling snow-plains.


    ¡°See anything?¡± One of the guards asked from her own horse. She was blowing onto her hands in an attempt to warm them. Lira wore so much heavy clothing that she looked like a ball on her horse, and even then, she complained of being cold.


    Mathew met them a few days ago, just as he had appeared on this floor. After meeting with the caravan leader and being introduced to everyone, they had immediately left the city to begin the two-week-long crossing.


    ¡°Not really. What kind of creatures did you say inhabited this place? All I¡¯ve seen is snow and ice.¡± Mathew replied as he turned away from the landscape to look at their guide, Garrick. Tanned and rugged, his face was heavily wrinkled from the harsh elements.


    Without a guide, the caravan wouldn¡¯t make it far in a place like this. There was some kind of magnetic field that affected compasses, meaning they would need to rely on other methods of finding the proper direction.


    ¡°Not much, so close to the badlands. You might find a few rodents after we enter the Ice Haze, but it¡¯s bad luck to see them.¡± Garrick responded as he smoked from a pipe. Mathew could smell something sweet rising from the bowl of the pipe as the smoke drifted toward him.


    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± Mathew asked. It was Lira who answered.


    ¡°Because there are only two things for monsters in the Badlands to eat. Rodents and us.¡±.


    ¡°Good to know.¡± Mathew said as he turned Midnight around and had the horse trot back to the caravan. Several of the guards followed him while Garrick stayed to scout the trail.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    The caravan was an odd mix of vehicles. There were horses and carts piled high with goods, along with wagons drawn by oxen, mules and all other manner of four-legged animals. Dozens of enclosed wagons were interspersed with the ones carrying crates and boxes.


    Entire families were making the journey across the badlands, making the Caravan an interesting and lively company in the evenings. Then there were the merchants and traders, their guards who numbered nearly a hundred, and the other miscellaneous groups that were along for various reasons.


    All told it made for a line of vehicles that stretched for nearly a mile and were visible on the horizon to anyone with an interest in finding them.


    Pulling his horse alongside the lead wagon, a brightly coloured enclosed carriage pulled by a team of four horses and gilded in gold, Mathew spoke with the Caravan leader who poked his head out from inside.


    Aric was a large man, one whom Mathew wouldn¡¯t have expected to lead such a caravan on such a dangerous crossing. A former adventurer turned alchemist, Aric used the proceeds from his trading across the Badlands to fund his expensive Alchemic pursuits.


    ¡°How¡¯s it look?¡± Aric asked.


    He was mixing something at a table covered with vials, books and reagents. There was a greenish cloud of smoke being emitted from the container in his hands. The land was flat enough nearly the whole way across the Badlands that he could work while his wife handled the horses.


    ¡°Frigid and empty. I think you¡¯re going to regret asking for my help; you could have saved that Aether for something else.¡± Mathew responded as Midnight kept pace with the slow-moving carriage. Aric let out a snort of laughter.


    ¡°Aether isn¡¯t worth anything compared to what I¡¯m carrying in this carriage. It might be valuable to you, but it''s nothing but dross to me. And don¡¯t get too comfortable; I¡¯ve seen monsters in the Badlands that will make anything you¡¯ve faced in the past look tame in comparison.¡±


    ¡°Promise? Because all I¡¯ve heard your guide speak about are rodents and snow drifts.¡± Mathew joked. Nodding his head in goodbye to the Caravan leader, Mathew went back to his place in line. He would ride Midnight until the sun set, where he would set up a magical tent that was warm, dry and better than any of the carts or wagons Aric had offered him.


    When the sun finally set, and Mathew¡¯s tent was assembled, he would join Aric, Lira, Garrick and a few of the other travellers and merchants around a fire near the Caravan leader¡¯s wagon.


    Mathew wasn¡¯t sure how it started, but after the first few nights, they started swapping stories. Since he was a foreigner to this land, everyone was incredibly interested in his stories. They would take turns, with someone taking the lead to tell a tale each night.


    ¡°Once, an Ancient Dragon, Xaroth, grew jealous of the moon¡¯s glow, which had outshone his own scales. He cast a curst, shrouding the moon in darkness and plunging the world into eternal darkness. The people turned to Lyra, the humble bard who could sway the hearts of kings with her song.¡± Aric spoke to the assembled crowd, which had grown each night to listen to their stories.


    Aric, enjoying the attention, drank a mouthful of wine as the fire kept the cold of the Badlands at bay.


    ¡°With her lute in hand and courage in her heart, Lyra ventured into the dragon¡¯s lair. There, amidst the smoke and fire, she sang a song of light and hope. Xaroth, moved by the beauty of her music, realized the moon¡¯s glow was not a rival but a companion to his majesty.¡± Aric paused for dramatic effect and stood so that the fire¡¯s light bathed him in its glow.


    ¡°Touched, Xaroth lifted his curse and restored the moon¡¯s gentle light.¡± Aric finished. He took a bow to the assembled crowd as they clapped and cheered.


    ¡°Hang on, what about the necklace?¡± Lira asked from beneath her thick blanket. The Caravan Guard was frowning at the ending and shaking her head.


    ¡°What necklace?¡± Aric asked in confusion.


    ¡°The version I heard when I was young said that the Dragon made a Lyra a necklace out of his own scale and the light of the moon so that the darkness could overtake the land again.¡± Lira explained.


    ¡°I never heard of that one.¡± Aric admitted with a laugh.


    ¡°It¡¯s a good story. Although, from what I¡¯ve seen, I don¡¯t think a song would be enough to move the heart of a dragon. Better to find something to stab it with than rely on music.¡± Mathew said from where he was sitting next to Aric.


    ¡°Well, Mr. Larson. Perhaps you would grace us with another tale?¡± Aric asked as he downed his cup of wine.


    The night passed peacefully, with everyone eventually finding their way to their tents, carriages or wagons. When dawn broke, the Caravan found themselves in the midst of an Icy Haze. They had officially entered the Badlands.


    The temperature dropped, and the wind picked up. Mathew rode midnight at the front of the Caravan, carefully watching for anything seeking to cause trouble. But this land was empty.


    Under the guidance of Garrick, their guide, they wound their way around snow drifts as tall as hills and across the flat, frozen tundra. After two weeks, on the very last day of their journey, the peaceful expedition was interrupted by a ferocious roar.


    A flying creature broke through the Icy Haze and descended onto the caravan in a flurry of wings, claws and teeth.


    ¡°Ice Drake!¡± One of the guards shouted as the flying creature slammed into a horse and picked it up with its claws. Mathew caught a look at the beast when it slowed from the burden of its prize.


    Its body was a dark blue, covered in scales, and it had two back legs and batlike wings. It reminded Mathew of his Wyvern, but many times larger and feral. It clamped its jaws around the head of the screaming horse and bit down.


    ¡°There¡¯s more!¡± Another guard shouted as arrows flew toward the descending beasts. More horses were attacked, and several of the guards were knocked down. A carriage tipped over, and panic gripped the Caravan.


    Just when it seemed that things would descend into total chaos, a voice shouted loudly.


    ¡°Burn!¡±


    Bright crimson flames erupted, driving back the Icy Haze and covering one of the creatures. It screamed in agony as it crashed to the ground. In minutes, the rest had fled while the guards used spears and arrows to finish off the writhing Drake.


    While the guards were restoring order and the Caravan members were assessing the damage, Aric found Mathew still atop his black horse. The Caravan Leader smiled and patted him on the shoulder fondly.


    ¡°See, I told you it was worth having you around.¡±

 Chapter 201 – Floor 27: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 201</u> ¨C Floor 27: Part 1


    Floor 27: The Hunt for Exotic Flora and Alchemical Components.


    The god of Alchemical Concoctions was pleased with your performance and has negotiated with Unyielding Declaration for your assistance.


    Venture into the murky depths of the Elderfen Marsh, where ancient trees and winding vines conceal rare plants coveted by alchemists and enchanters alike.


    Armed with a weathered guidebook, you will navigate the labyrinthine wetland in search of the Exotic Flora and Components required for a unique potion.


    Beware of the swamp¡¯s treacherous terrain and its mysterious inhabitants, for only the keenest eye and the most skilled adventurer will unearth the enigmatic plants necessary for the required potion.


    Reward: Potion of Celestial Knowledge.


    Provides the drinker with an increased comprehension of the secret Language of the Celestials, allowing the user to combine Words of Power for increased or alternate effect.


    Mathew appeared in the midst of a dense marsh. The air smelled of decay and death, heavy with humidity and a stifling heat. The trees rose toward the sky in all directions, their trunks thick and twisted, while the leaves were a mixture of greens, blues and even violet.


    He felt his stick prick painfully for a moment before sweat soaked his shirt and wetted his hair. His boots, spotless after the last few Floors, sank up to the ankle in the muskeg. Dirty water flooded into them, wetting his feet.


    Mathew was alone, there wasn¡¯t a soul in sight, and there was a complete lack of civilization. The Elderfen Marsh was the type of place that people rarely ventured into, and Mathew was experiencing why.


    ¡°Gods damn it.¡± Mathew cursed as he slapped his hand over his neck in response to a fly bite. Pulling his hand away, he wiped the bloody remains on his shirt and looked around. There were no paths or trails, and his sense of direction was failing him.


    While he was considering where he was supposed to go, a collection of motes of lights accumulated in front of him before forming an item. It was an old book, heavy and thick. Wrapped in leather, Mathew could read the words ¡®The Alchemists Resource Guide¡¯ written on the front in gold lettering.


    Reaching out his hands, Mathew allowed the book to fall gently into his grasp. Inside, he found a collection of pictures and descriptions of herbs and plants that he would be required to find. The book had a magical aura about it, and Mathew could feel the mana within it.


    Unbidden, burning words appeared above the open book in his hands.


    The Alchemists Resource Guide: A collection of descriptions of herb and alchemy ingredients, this enchanted tome will glow in the presence of components required for the chosen potion.


    ¡°At least I won¡¯t be fumbling around in the dark looking for plants.¡± Mathew muttered as he closed the book and gripped it tightly in his right hand. Selecting a direction at random, he tried to navigate a path that would avoid the deeper water and stick to dry land.


    After a few minutes of walking, where each step was a struggle as his boots would sink into the muck, Mathew arrived at a relatively dry section just as the book began to glow softly. After raising the book, the pages flipped open on their own accord to a middle section of the tome where there was a picture of a flower and a description.


    Moonshade Blossom: This flower, which only grows in the most remote sections of the world, is ordinarily inaccessible to humanity. Named for its ability to glow beautifully under moonlight, it is a crucial component for invisibility potions.


    Although it lacks any ability to defend itself, this semi-sentient plant will seek the protection of other aggressive plant species. In return, the plants near the Moonshade Blossom will have a source of mana.


    Looking around, Mathew saw a small flower tucked away in a cluster of green, thorny ferns that matched the description in the guidebook.


    The flower had three purple petals with red veins on a green stalk. Mathew could almost swear it was hiding as if it were intelligent enough to understand that he was after it. It grew to be about a foot off the ground, and the guidebook mentioned that he would be required to ensure that its roots were unharmed while plucking it.


    ¡°There you are.¡± Mathew said.


    Kneeling down in front of the bed of ferns, his knee instantly becoming wet from the damp ground, he was about to reach toward the plant when the ferns began to tremble. In moments, they had expanded.


    Their thorns protected the Moonshade Blossom in a shield of spikes that dripped a clear liquid that Mathew assumed was poisonous. Swiftly retracting his hand from the aggressive ferns, Mathew stood and spoke.


    ¡°Shield.¡± The Celestial Energy of the Universe descended onto him, coating his skin in a layer of mana that quickly sank deeply within his body. Curious about how powerful it was, Mathew withdrew a small knife from his inventory, a mundane tool he had collected over his years of travel.


    Prodding his skin, he found that no matter how hard he pressed, he couldn¡¯t puncture the barrier protecting him.


    Satisfied, he returned the small knife to his inventory and reach down to the ferns. The thorns tried to rip into him; the plants even swayed and moved to latch onto his hand and arm, but they were ineffective aside from causing a few scratches on his jacket.


    Digging his hand into the soft soil, Mathew removed the Moonshade Blossom from the earth while keeping its roots intact. Standing once more, Mathew placed the flower safely in his inventory.


    ¡°There, that wasn¡¯t all bad.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    The next plant took him several hours to trek through the wilderness to find. By the time the book glowed, Mathew was hot, sweaty and exhausted. He missed his enhanced Attributes. If he still had his Body stat where it had been, he could have walked through this Marshland without a care in the world.


    Now, every step was a struggle, and his leg didn¡¯t help.


    The dull ache had turned into a burning, fiery agony that threatened to move past his knee and up his hip. The potions did little to relieve the pain, merely making it tolerable at the expense of the Aether he used to buy them.


    Cursing Unyielding Declaration, the Tower of Avarice and every god he had ever heard of, Mathew lifted the book and read the plant description that appeared.


    The Dragon¡¯s Breath Bloom: A rare plant that is said to only appear where the breath of a dragon once burned the ground to ashes. This fiery red flower can drive away even the coldness of winter, and it is perfect for enhancing fire-based potions.


    Be wary of searching for this flower; it is highly favoured by beasts that possess traces of the draconic bloodline. Dragons are lascivious by nature, and their bloodlines have spread far and wide. The Dragon¡¯s Breath Bloom can stir the bloodline within these beasts to greater potency.


    ¡°Good to know.¡± Mathew whispered after reading the description and closing the guidebook. He couldn¡¯t see any red flowers in the area, but there was a dense cluster of trees just to his right that was blocking his view.


    As carefully and quietly as he could, Mathew snuck through the trees. Parting a few thick, broad leaves, he immediately spotted what he was looking for.


    The Dragon¡¯s Breath Bloom was the most vivid red Mathew had ever seen. It was like a ruby, shimmering in the light. There was a heat haze around it, and the ground was dry as the Flower evaporated the dampness from the earth.


    Nothing grew near it; the intense heat of the flower prevented anything from taking root in the dry soil. But the guidebook was correct; something had found the flower and was enjoying the heat it was emitting.


    A giant snake coiled around it; its scales were black and shimmered in a kaleidoscope of colours like an oil slick. It was absolutely massive, large enough that Mathew estimated it could wrap around and crush a car if it wanted to.


    The Buzz exploded in Mathew¡¯s head, and his body immediately trembled from the sense of danger that enveloped him. The snake was clearly more powerful than him, something the Buzz was warning him of.


    He didn¡¯t know what kind of snake this was, but he wasn¡¯t a physical match for it. The guidebook made it clear that any creature protecting the Dragon¡¯s Breath Bloom wouldn¡¯t allow him to snatch it easily.


    But Mathew had an advantage. The snake didn¡¯t know he was here and it was currently asleep. It¡¯s eyes were closed, and aside from its tongue occasionally flicking out of its mouth to taste the air, it was unmoving.


    ¡°Hide.¡± Mathew whispered his newly obtained Word of Power. The Celestial Language forced the world to bend and distort around him. Mathew¡¯s body blended in with the trees and shadows, hiding him from sight. It warped reality to conceal the noise he made and mask his scent.


    In moments, Mathew slowly walked toward the Dragon¡¯s Breath Bloom while carefully watching the snake''s reaction. If it showed signs of waking, he would immediately go all out to destroy it.


    But he had nothing to worry about. Even when he was stepping over its body, his boots striking the hard, dry ground of the flower bed, the snake showed no signs of awakening. The book made it clear that Mathew only needed to collect the petals; the rest of the flower could be left behind.


    With each petal plucked, the temperature began to lower as the power of the Bloom decreased. When the last one was safely tucked inside his inventory, the clearing air matched the Marsh''s rest, and Mathew flew as fast as his bad leg could carry him.


    When he reached the edge of the trees, the snake began to stir. Sensing something wasn¡¯t right, it opened its eyes and looked for danger. Mathew¡¯s last sight of the beast was of it hissing angrily and thrashing as it realized its prize had been damaged.


    ¡°That¡¯s two.¡± Mathew whispered as he fled, his concealment by the Word of Power leaving as he made it to safety.


    The third ingredient in the potion he was collecting was a Frostleaf Herb, a pale blue plant with a layer of hoarfrost coating its leaves that was locked behind a wall of ice in a depression in the marsh. A key ingredient for Ice-related potions, it didn¡¯t require a guardian as it was completely sealed by ice.


    Using ¡®Burn¡¯ Mathew melted the ice and plucked the herb from its barrier.


    The fourth ingredient was the strangest one that Mathew had seen. By the time he found it, the sun had set, and darkness covered the marsh. He had just considered setting camp when the book began to glow, and Mathew stumbled upon a vein of neon green light that stretched into the distance.


    Glimmer Root: Highly sought after for the bioluminescent liquid contained within it. It is vital for potions to improve one''s vision at night or in the creation of light.


    Be incredibly wary of attempting to harvest Glimmer Root. It is sacred to the Moonlit Dryads, creatures of moonlight and shadow that feed on the root.


    Moonlit Dryads: Captivating and ethereal guardians of the forest, intricately connected to the mystical Glimmer Root it protects. The Moonlit Dryads radiate an aura of serene beauty and gentle power. They will aggressively defend the Glimmer Root by using their magic to ensnare those who would take it from them.


    Mathew let out a huff of air as he put the book in his inventory and set off in the direction of the neon green light. In a few minutes, he was staring at paradise.


    The Glimmer Root''s glade was bathed in moonlight, with large crystals reflecting its radiance. Trees sheltered the glade, their branches forming a canopy with an opening at the top to let in the moonlight before it was redirected to the multiple crystals in the glade.


    The Glimmer Root itself was a bright, neon green root that burst from the ground and formed an arch under which a dozen Moonlit Dryads had congregated. They were singing; their voices joined in harmony as they all looked up at the moon above and raised their hands.


    Before Mathew could do anything more than walk into the glad and briefly look around, the singing stopped, and the group of Dryads turned toward him.


    They were all women, young and beautiful. Their skin was a light grey, their eyes as white as the moon and just as bright. They were dressed in leaves, branches and things found in the marsh. But there was an inhumanness about them; they seemed slightly wrong to Mathew¡¯s eyes.


    They had disproportionately long limbs when compared to their torsos, and their faces were more elongated than a human. They weren¡¯t ugly, far from it, but their features were different enough from a person that some primal sense inside Mathew screamed at him not to mistake them for people.


    ¡°Human, you trespass in our domain.¡± One of the Dryads said. She was different from the others, with a crown of flowers on her head and a staff in her hands topped with a crystal filled with white moonlight.


    ¡°Uh, yeah. I¡¯m here to obtain some of the Glimmer Root. I just need a bit, and I¡¯ll be out of your lovely hair.¡± Mathew replied, flashing them a grin that he hoped they took as friendliness. Instead, the Dryad''s faces twisted into anger and hatred.


    ¡°No human may defile the sacred Glimmer Root!¡± She screamed, her voice joined by the others. The atmosphere turned oppressive, and the light from the moon began to darken into red. Despite the danger, Mathew was impressed with the display.


    It wasn¡¯t often you saw a power like this. Before they could attack, he raised his hand and spoke.


    ¡°Haze.¡± The Word of Power shattered the power of the moon the Dryads were using, and he could see their eyes lose focus. They were distracted by their own thoughts, too disoriented to make use of their magic.


    Mathew quickly moved toward the Glimmer Root. Pulling a knife from his inventory, he sawed off a small section of the root that leaked neon green liquid and stuffed both into his inventory.


    When the Word of Power began to fail, and the Dryads were regaining their awareness, Mathew was already disappearing in a flash of white light.


    He had completed the Floor, and in his hands was a small vial. The promised reward. A Potion of Celestial Knowledge that would improve his use of the Word of Powers and, eventually, allow him to combine them in useful and interesting ways.

 Chapter 202 – Floor 28: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 202</u> ¨C Floor 28: Part 1


    Floor 28 - The Abyssal Onslaught: A Battle for Survival


    The City of Valoria is the last bastion of humanity against the endless demonic hoard that continually emerges from ¡®The Fracture,¡¯ a breach in reality that leads to the Abyssal Plane. The people have taken shelter in the Church of Sanctuary Retort while the end approaches.


    Summoned by Sanctuary Retort to defend Valoria, it is up to you to protect the Church and slaughter the invading monsters. The Aether accumulated from the deaths of demons will repair ¡®The Fracture.¡¯


    All grievances must be put aside, all objections stifled, as you join your fellow Participants of the Tower of Avarice in the defence of the city. The Fracture must be sealed, the demons driven back to their own reality.


    Goal: Survive long enough for The Fracture to seal. Prevent the destruction of Valoria and its people.


    Reward: Advanced Word of Power: Combust


    A combination of the Words ¡®Burst¡¯ and ¡®Burn,¡¯ this advanced Word of Power reaches a level of force unattainable to those stuck on a single syllable. Through the use of the ¡®Potion of Celestial Knowledge,¡¯ you have gained access to a higher tier of the Celestial Language.


    Description: You utter the Word of Power and call upon the Celestial Language, causing a catastrophic explosion at a point within range. The target, or a point you choose, erupts in a burst of searing flames and intense heat. The explosion deals massive fire damage to everything in a wide radius around the target.


    Mathew arrived in a city of fire and blood in a flash of white flight. The city stretched for tens of miles in all directions, and not a single part of it was untouched by the ravages of war. Large skyscrapers had tumbled onto their sides, leaving the ground littered with debris.


    Roads were torn apart, bridges collapsed, and nothing grew anywhere Mathew could see.


    The air hurt to breathe; it was heavy with smoke and had a chemical smell to it that stung Mathew¡¯s nostrils and lungs. The sky above was obscured by clouds that reflected the red and orange light below.


    He wasn¡¯t alone, more people arrived all around him. They came from various nations, eras and times. They wore clothing to reflect their different backgrounds. Some wore armour, or clothing belonging to the medieval era, while others were like Mathew in modern jeans.


    He could even see some dressed in futuristic body suits, the light reflecting off their metallic surface in an odd way. One thing was common for everyone here: they all possessed mana, and the items they wore were mostly magical in nature.


    Explosions rang out in the distance, and great gouts of fire rushed skyward along with dozens of new sources of smoke. The earth shook, and the air was filled with the screams of the dying or the yells of those still fighting.


    Many of Mathew¡¯s fellow Players from the Tower rushed toward the sounds of fighting immediately, all intent on earning Aether or accomplishing other goals for the Floor. But Mathew, having been through battlefields in the past, held back for a moment to assess the situation.


    He was about to find higher ground, or perhaps a more central location, in search of a command post when a voice spoke out from the crowd.


    ¡°Well, fancy meeting you here!¡± A woman said, her voice loud enough to cut through the din. Mathew turned to find a familiar face, although one he hadn¡¯t seen in decades.


    Aliva looked happy to see him; her small, pixie-like face was smiling as she walked toward him. Her deck of cards were clutched in her hand, ready to pull a card free at a moment¡¯s notice and unleash its powers. As a Drafter, Alivia¡¯s powers were directly tied to the cards she used and purchased from the Shop.


    Mathew hadn¡¯t seen her since the 9<sup>th</sup> Floor, where they had to act as ¡®Demon Lords¡¯ for the local population. Fittingly, he saw her again on a Floor where they had to fight real demons.


    ¡°Alivia.¡± Mathew said softly, his tone filled with relief at seeing someone he knew. With a Floor as dangerous as this, it was good to have someone you could rely on to watch your back.


    ¡°Wow, Mathew, did you miss me or something? Didn¡¯t take you for the type to miss anyone.¡± Alivia responded as she came up next to him and punched him gently on the shoulder in a friendly manner.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a monster, Alivia. It¡¯s good to see you, although I wish it were under better conditions. How has the Tower been treating you?¡± Mathew asked and immediately regretted it as Alivia¡¯s pretty face twisted into an expression that he was all too familiar with.


    A mixture of frustration, despair, anger, and a dozen other emotions rolled into one. He understood it so well because he often felt the same way, and he suspected so did most of the others who entered the Tower.


    ¡°Terribly, you?¡± Alivia replied, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°Bad leg that I can¡¯t get fixed, and I¡¯m stuck at Level 1 with no ability to advance. I lost all of my Blessings and Disciplines, and, oh, I¡¯m an Apostle for an Alien god.¡± Mathew responded, and Alivia barked out a short laugh.


    ¡°Par for the course then. Still, I think you got off easy.¡± Alivia retorted.


    ¡°How so?¡± Mathew asked in confusion.


    ¡°You¡¯re still alive.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t speak too soon. I think this Floor is going to be rough. Stick together and watch each other¡¯s backs?¡± Mathew offered, and the Drafter immediately agreed. They were about to pick a direction to set up and prepare for the onslaught of demons when another person suddenly joined them.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Mathew was about to tell them off that their group was full, and they didn¡¯t accept strangers when something made him pause. The man next to him was somewhat familiar, with a long-barreled rifle gripped in his hands and a set of the futuristic armour Mathew had seen others wearing.


    The man had a long beard, and his face was scarred. His hair was brown and pulled back so that it wouldn¡¯t fall in front of his face. He looked rough, like he had been through hell and back and had the scars to prove it.


    His eyes kept flicking around to take in everything around them, a habit that Mathew was familiar with after being exposed to danger for so long.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while, Mathew.¡± The man said, his voice gruff and hoarse.


    There was something maddeningly familiar about him, but Mathew couldn¡¯t place it. His memory wasn¡¯t as clear as it had been before his attributes had been taken by Unyielding Declaration. Everything from the early Floors of the Tower was hazy, but he dredged a name from the depths.


    ¡°Greg from Vermont. But not my Vermont.¡± Mathew said hesitantly, unsure if he was correct.


    Thankfully, the man immediately nodded and smiled slightly, little more than a smirk that pulled on a corner of his mouth.


    ¡°Are you willing to team up again? I know it¡¯s been a long time.¡± Greg said, and Mathew immediately nodded.


    ¡°Decades.¡± Mathew said, only for Greg to shake his head.


    ¡°Centuries. The 7<sup>th</sup> Floor, and Samuel, was a long time ago.¡± Greg explained, and Mathew winced. Had it been centuries for him as well? It was hard to keep track of time in the Tower, and it worked differently for everyone.


    A day for Mathew could have been a decade for Greg; it all depended on the Floors you travelled through. Especially the Punishment Floor; his sense of time had been warped there with no one but the Celestials to keep him company.


    Lost in thought for a moment, he was disturbed by Alivia and Greg swapping introductions. Shaking free of the chains of memory, Mathew turned his attention to the here and now.


    ¡°Alright, three is a perfect number. Let¡¯s go see what we¡¯re dealing with, shall we?¡± Mathew said, and his companions agreed.


    It was good to be amongst friends again. Mathew had forgotten the feeling of security and trust that came with having competent, trusted people beside him. He wanted to hold onto that feeling and he wished he could carry it forward to the next Floors as well.


    In a few minute''s time, they came to the front line of the conflict between man and demon.


    It wasn¡¯t hard to spot; they merely needed to follow the screams, explosions, and pillars of flames that erupted periodically.


    The front line was divided into two parts: the humans were using toppled buildings as cover and the sunken remains of a subway line as a moat to slow down the advance of the approaching demons. At the same time, the Demons themselves were emerging from ¡®The Fracture¡¯ in a disorganized, endless mass.


    The Fracture looked like a black and red crack that ran from the ground into the sky. Fire poured out of it, burning the ground on their side until it was charred and barren. It was perhaps a hundred or two hundred feet wide but tall enough that it nearly reached the clouds above.


    The Demons were nearly uniform in appearance, something that surprised Mathew as he expected them to come in many different varieties. They were humanoid, with two legs and two arms. Muscular and taller than a person, they had red skin and horns protruding from their skulls and swept back like a crown.


    They wielded flaming swords with jagged edges, whips of flames that could reach fantastical distances and black spears that could pierce through steel and concrete with ease.


    Mathew could feel the Buzz explode from the threat of the demons, a headache that caused Mathew¡¯s vision to blacken around the edges and his body to teeter on the edge of collapse. Alivia and Greg fared better; their higher levels and Blessings put them on a more even playing field than the demons they faced.


    Humans and demons alike perished in incalculable numbers as the battlefield stretched for miles. Bodies piled up along the front line, while the demons would burst into flames and leave nothing but ashes behind as they died. The ground, parched and barren everywhere else in the city, was wet and muddy from the blood being spilled.


    As the defenders died, they were replaced with more from the Lower Floors of the Tower to match the oncoming demons. Both sides clashed, but it was clear to Mathew, after only a few minutes of watching, that humanity was being pushed back.


    But there was hope. Each time a demon died, a small bit of Aether would rise from the ashes and fly toward The Fracture, sealing it a minuscule amount. A single demon¡¯s death did practically nothing, but a thousand, ten thousand, a million would make a difference.


    The battle raged for days, and Mathew and his companions would throw themselves into the fray until Greg ran out of bullets for his rifle; Alivia would use every card she possessed, and Mathew would be hoarse and mute from calling down the power of the Celestial Language.


    Retreating, they would recover while others fought. Using the Aether they gathered from the killing, they would restock their supplies, heal their wounds and prepare while the front line would retract or expand as the tide of battle went back and forth.


    ¡°Burst!¡± Mathew shouted the Words of Power as he pointed at the demon looming over him. The universe responded to his call, and the head of the demon exploded in a gory mess. The creature stumbled forward a few steps before collapsing into ashes.


    ¡°Retreat!¡± A voice called out, soon joined by hundreds more. The demons had secured the toppled building the humans had been using as a barricade, and the defenders were forced to pull back once again.


    It was a common occurrence over the days of fighting, and Mathew lost track of the number of times they lost ground, only to take it back after a surge of fresh reinforcements arrived from the Floor below. But the push forward would also falter, and the defenders would end up losing ground again.


    Looking around for Greg and Alivia, he found them fighting only a few meters away. Greg had run out of ammo for his rifle and hadn¡¯t been able to replenish it yet, so he had taken to bashing demons with the weapon while Alivia had pulled a knife out of her inventory.


    They were in trouble, and Mathew was about to call upon the power of the Celestials again when his voice failed him. Coughing, he spat out blood.


    Ignoring it, he tried again, only to have the Power refuse to come forth. He had reached his limit. Seeing his friends in danger, Mathew stumbled toward them while pulling an object out of his inventory.


    The Wrathful Blade, the enormous sword that was too heavy for the weakened Mathew to lift, crashed to the ground at Greg¡¯s feet. Furiously gesturing for his friend to pick it up, Mathew swiftly drank a potion and tried to speak.


    ¡°Burst!¡± The magic reluctantly came, painfully tearing through his throat along with a spurt of blood. The body of another headless demon collapsed to the ground just as Greg picked up the weapon and swung it at the other demons.


    The Wrathful Blade, a weapon forged from the remains of an Ancestral Beast, viciously tore through them. When they were dead, Greg stabbed the flat end of the sword into the ground and nodded gratefully to his friend.


    ¡°We can¡¯t hold much longer.¡± Alivia said, already looking in the Shop for more cards. Joining her, Greg restocked his supplies while Mathew put the Wrathful Blade back in his inventory.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to. Look.¡± Greg said, pointing at The Fracture. There was only a small sliver remaining open. But the demons weren¡¯t willing to quit, and they threw themselves at the defenders with boundless rage and aggression.


    They were at the point of failure when The Fracture was finally sealed.


    Standing on top of the Church of Sanctuary Retort, the very last line of defence, Mathew and the remaining defenders, including Greg and Alivia, watched it vanish from sight.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯


    Mathew had never heard such a welcome sound before.

 Chapter 203 – Floor 29: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 203</u> ¨C Floor 29: Part 1


    Floor 29 ¨C Heist of the Empyrean Cache


    Ages ago, the world was inhabited by the Empyreans, beings of immense scientific knowledge and dominion over a large portion of the galaxy. Their vast empire touched upon a thousand stars and they were unopposed for millennia.


    Unfortunately, only the gods are eternal, and the Empyrean civilization fell into civil war. Ravaged by famine, pestilence and violence, their once great Empire retracted until only a single planet remained: Earth, their original home and the birthplace of the first Empyreans.


    Knowing their end had come, they consolidated all of their knowledge into a vault for humanity to find. Jealously guarded by Humans, the god of Interred Comprehension desires this knowledge to be removed from existence.


    Goal: Enter the Empyrean Cache and destroy all traces of the long-absent race from existence. Whether your entry is covert or not is up to you to decide.


    Reward: Advanced Word of Power: Eclipse (Haze/Hide)


    Obscure all light within sight of the Speaker, blanketing everything in impenetrable darkness. The Speaker may move through this darkness unimpeded as if the sun itself was shining only upon them.


    Mathew arrived in the heart of a sprawling cityscape. It was evening, the sun had just set and the air was warm. The sky was clear and the few clouds above were tinged orange and red at the edges with the last remnant of the day¡¯s light.


    An object towered above the city¡¯s skyline, an awe-inspiring structure of advanced architecture and cutting-edge technology.


    It was the Empyrean Cache, a impenetrable structure designed to safeguard the most precious and enigmatic alien knowledge ever discovered by humans. Half vault and half fortress, no one had ever breached its defences.


    The Empyrean Cache rose like a monolithic crystal, its exterior a lattice of iridescent panels that shifted colours with the changing light from the city around it. It gave Mathew the impression of a living, breathing entity.


    The building''s sleek design was a combination of aesthetic brilliance and defensive prowess. Constructed of interlocking, triangle sections of glass and metal, it was lit from within in such a way that it looked like it was glowing.


    Mathew studied the building carefully from the street where he had appeared. Despite his clothing being out of place in such a setting, he blended in enough with the shadows that he didn¡¯t draw too much attention.


    From what Mathew could see, the Empyrean Cache was surrounded by a multiple layers of defence. There was an outer layer of mundane fences, walls and guardhouses with only a single point of entry that was protected by lines of bright, red energy.


    ¡°Wow.¡± Mathew muttered, impressed that he had arrived in a world where lasers were actually used to protect a gate. It was something he had thought only existed in science fiction.


    Beyond the walls and fences, a combination of humanoid and robotic sentinels patrolled the grounds. The humans were easier for Mathew to find, they lined the top of walls or worked in the gate houses. Some had pistols and handguns belted to their hips, with crisp black uniforms that bore a strange, red clenched fist symbol on the front.


    But amongst the uniformed guards were other guards, and Mathew knew they were the more serious threat.


    They wore black armoured suits, pushing their height to well above their unarmoured companions. They moved with a unmistakable grace, the bodies enhanced in some way that Mathew had only seen achieved with Aether, but was likely some form of technology.


    These guards had long rifles in their hands, sleek, shiny and deadly. Their faces were obscured by helmets and Mathew suspected they were some form of exosuit, or body enhancing armour.


    Then there were the robotic sentries that walked next to them or hovered in the air above the Empyrean Cache. There was nothing humanoid about these mechanical monsters.


    Multilegged, the walked like spiders across the ground. Lacking a head, they instead had large, rectangular boxes with a multitude of sensors and cameras that were constantly swivelling and turning.


    Mathew didn¡¯t know what kind of weaponry they possessed, but they looked deadly with each carrying multiple long barreled gun type attachments, as well as large pods that he thought might contain missiles or grenades.


    Impressed, Mathew tucked himself closer to the wall he used to conceal himself and began thinking of a plan.


    The Words of Power were incredibly powerful but wouldn¡¯t be enough to take on an army. He had learned that lesson on the previous Floors. The Demons had overwhelmed him with their numbers until his voice was mute, and he was exhausted.


    Without the Words of Power, Mathew was as weak as a normal person. He lacked the Attributes and Blessings that could allow him to be take on the kind of military force protecting the Empyrean Cache and survive.


    ¡°Covert it is.¡± Mathew muttered.


    Taking a deep, calming breath, he summoned the magic of the Words of Power to aid him.


    ¡°Hide.¡±


    Mathew blended in with shadows, the darkness clung to his frame like a cloak and he felt his body lose some of its ¡®solidness,¡¯ as if he had become partially ethereal like the Celestial Spirits had been. Not satisfied with just this amount, he proceeded to use his next Word.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Haze.¡± A fog began to rise from the ground, a grey mist that began in the street and soon swept forward toward the guardhouse and the sentries protecting the Empyrean Cache. But there was another effect to haze, one that complemented the concealment.


    The guards felt their thoughts become muddled. They were more willing to overlook certain oddities, to not dwell on unexplainable happenings.


    They would question Mathew if he suddenly popped into existence and tried to waltz into the restricted areas of the Cache, but their were less aware of his presence than they normally would. Even better, the sensors on the robotic sentries, the cameras liberally placed around the Cache and all the other means of spotting intruders would be less efficient under the effects of ¡®Haze.¡¯


    But Mathew wasn¡¯t going to walk into the Cache, even protected by two Words of Power. He couldn¡¯t risk a guard getting off a lucky shot and killing him. His body wouldn¡¯t protect him from bullets like ¡®Alter-Self¡¯ had allowed him to.


    Mathew was going to Shift his way inside.


    Carefully walking forward while keeping his body out of sight, Mathew watched the guards'' movements and the items'' placement. When he was sure of his chance, he spoke.


    ¡°Shift¡±


    Mathew disappeared from sight and a coffee cup fell onto the ground where he had just been standing. The white cup smashed onto the pavement and shattered, but Mathew was already gone.


    He reappeared in the empty Guard House near the front gate. The guard was currently standing in the open doorway, speaking quietly with his companion, and Mathew was in the clear.


    ¡®Shift¡¯ allowed Mathew to take the place of an object or person within sight, regardless of size or mass. There were a lot of downsides to the Word of Power, namely the time it took to look for a suitable object or person and shift with them.


    Useless in combat for the moment, it demonstrated its worth during this covert operation.


    Mathew huddled down behind a chair and desk in the small Guard House while the mist curled around the ground outside. The guards were oblivious to his presence, but Mathew didn¡¯t want to wait around to get caught.


    The lights were bright in the small room, and he wasn¡¯t sure how effective ¡®Hide¡¯ would be if they turned and caught a good look at him.


    ¡®Can¡¯t risk switching with a person; they¡¯ll immediately know something is up. So what do I¡­perfect.¡¯ Mathew thought as he peeked out the window and saw a perfect target on top of the wall above him.


    In a moment, he was gone, and a small box marked ¡®supplies¡¯ fell to the floor of the Guard House.


    On top of the wall and concealed in darkness once again, Mathew quickly searched the grounds and switched places again. After three uses of the Word ¡®Shift,¡¯ Mathew arrived at a locked door. A quick ¡®Break¡¯ on the lock had him inside the Empyrean Cache.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew stepped inside the Cache and was greeted by an expansive Atrium, a circular room with a high ceiling that was translucent. Natural light filtered down from above despite the fact that the sun had already set.


    The air was filled with holographic projections and quirks of light of various colours that flitted through the room and formed numerous creatures that Mathew didn¡¯t recognize and could only assume were native to the Empyrean worlds and were now long extinct.


    The floors were made of a smooth, reflective material that subtly shifted colours in response to Mathew¡¯s footsteps, making a mosaic beneath his feet that would stretch out for a few feet before fading.


    Cautiously stepping into the Atrium, Mathew was relieved to see that it was currently empty. But that could change at any moment, and he began to hurriedly search for the Empyrean knowledge.


    ¡®I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m looking for! I doubt they left behind a bunch of books for millions of years.¡¯ Mathew thought as he looked around. The walls were artfully done with frescos, and Mathew paused to study them briefly.


    They depicted images of the Empyreans; at least, he thought that was who they were. Strangely, they reminded Mathew of the Celestials with their long limbs. But the Empyreans were more alien, with four legs and two arms.


    In one fresco, a group of Empyreans gathered together, reaching toward the sun or a star. Their hands had three fingers, and they cupped them together in supplication to the distant object.


    Shaking off his curiosity, Mathew ignored the other frescos and made his way to an elevator. Pressing the button, he waited for a moment for the lift to arrive. Inside, there were a number of different floors available, but thankfully they were marked.


    Running his finger down the list, Mathew pressed the button marked ¡®Archives¡¯ at the bottom.


    When he arrived at the bottom floor and left the elevator, he was greeted by a large room filled with people in white lab coats. The rooms were filled with equipment and machines, but there were other objects that caught Mathew¡¯s attention.


    Crystal cubes were being carefully handled by the scientists here, and more were in protective cases in the back of the room.


    Unbidden, burning words appeared from Mathew¡¯s wristband, and he quickly read the message.


    Date Cubes Discovered!


    These cubes contain all the accumulated knowledge of the Empyreans. Each Cube is a single copy of the whole, meaning as long as one survived the tribulations affecting the Empyrean Empire, their culture and knowledge would be passed on.


    Goal Updated: Steal a Cube before destroying the Empyrean Cache.


    Mathew closed the message and studied the cubes carefully. There were hundreds, if not thousands of them, but the message made it clear that only one was required to hold all the essential information.


    The cubes were small, perhaps as large as a laptop computer from Mathew¡¯s world. They were formed of crystal and glowed with a faint, inner light that would pulse softly in response to each other. Their surfaces were covered in glyphs, ruins and sigils.


    They also appeared to be heavy, and Mathew saw several of the scientists struggle to lift them. Entering a room, Mathew carefully avoided the gaze of any of the white-coated men and women and arrived at an unmonitored Cube.


    Picking it up and groaning slightly under the weight, Mathew shoved it into his inventory. He heard a faint ¡®Ding¡¯ as he did so.


    ¡®That¡¯s one goal down.¡¯ Mathew thought to himself as he planned the next part. He didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone but needed to destroy this place.


    ¡°Better scare them off.¡± Mathew whispered as he raised his hand and pointed at a cluster of cubes that were being stored near the back of the room.


    ¡°Combust!¡± Mathew shouted, his voice ripping through the silence of the room. An explosion rocked the entire building before anyone could react to the strange noise.


    The effects of Combust exceeded Mathew¡¯s expectations by a large margin. He had thought that he would simply coat the cubes and some of the room in fire, similar to Burn but with a larger area of effect.


    Instead, every piece of glass in the room shattered outward from the shockwave and the burst of air. A searing heat erupted in the back of the room and vaporized the cubes, the objects and equipment near them, and half the wall and most of the ceiling.


    Men and women ran screaming as the fire continued to burn, and they were pelted with glass shards and pieces of lab equipment. Thankfully, few of them were seriously injured as they were quite far away from the source of the explosion.


    Shocked at the power of the Word, Mathew backed away before using it again.


    The building shook, and Mathew heard a loud groan before the ceiling near the back of the room collapsed.


    ¡°Oh, shit!¡± Mathew cursed. Turning, he began to run as fast as his bad leg would carry him. Seeing that it still wasn¡¯t fast enough, Mathew used shift on various objects in his path to give him an edge on the collapsing room.


    He was just about to reach the elevator when he saw it was closed. Before he could look for an alternate route, he was covered in white light and spirited away.


    Congratulations! You have completed the 29<sup>th</sup> Floor!

 Chapter 204 – Floor 30: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 204</u> ¨C Floor 30: Part 1


    Floor 30 ¨C The Nightmare Realm ¡®The Luminous Expanse.¡¯


    In the dominion of Stormspire, the citizens whisper of a powerful being known only as ¡®The Dreamer,¡¯ an entity whose slumber weaves the fabric of reality itself.


    Legends say that if one can traverse the labyrinth of The Dreamer¡¯s nightmares and awaken them, they could reshape reality or avert a looming catastrophe.


    The Dreamer has fallen into a deep, malevolent slumber that threatens to unravel the very fabric of both the dreamscape and reality.


    As the boundaries between worlds blur, The Dreamer¡¯s nightmares will begin to seep into the waking world. There will be no limits to the havoc and despair The Dreamer will bring to Stormspire and the entire world.


    You must journey into the heart of The Dreamer¡¯s nightmare realm, a surreal and ever-shifting landscape shaped by humanity''s accumulated fears and desires.


    To succeed, you must navigate a world where logic falters, reality itself is fluid, and every corner hides wonders and terrors beyond imagining.


    Goal: Find and awaken The Dreamer. Restore balance to Stormspire before the nightmares seep into the waking world and consume reality.


    Bonus Goal: The god of Perennial Reveries has summoned you to this land in order to recruit an Apostle. Enlist The Dreamer into the god of Perennial Reveries¡¯ service.


    Reward: Word of Power: Devastate (Break/Fear)


    You utter a single, powerful word imbued with the raw force of destruction. Upon speaking the Word of Power, choose a point within range, and a wave of catastrophic energy erupts from that location.


    Mathew arrived on the edge of the small village, just where the dirt road passed the first house.


    There were dozens of cottages built from stone and timber, with thatched roofs and blooming window boxes overflowing with colourful flowers. From the dirt path, cobblestone streets wound through the village, leading to a central square where a large, ancient oak tree stood.


    Before he could look around, he could hear screams and the sound of running feet approaching. Villagers were rushing to leave, some carrying others who were clearly injured. Men, women, children, and people of all ages fled from something near the center of the village.


    Dressed in old-fashioned clothing, Mathew guessed that he had arrived somewhere that lacked electricity or modern technology. He pushed past the scared citizens of the town and made his way to the source of their panic.


    He found the creature in the central square, its figure shadowed by the branches of the oak tree. Bodies surrounded it; the positioning of the lifeless forms told Mathew they were cut down as they tried to flee.


    The monster was a terrifying spectre, an amalgamation of shadow and mist that drifted around the square with otherworldly, sinuous grace. Its form was vaguely humanoid but insubstantial. It was composed of swirling, dark vapour that clung to it like a hooded cloak.


    Its body seemed to twist and writhe with a life of its own, and the edges would blur and dissolve into the shadows cast by the tree¡¯s branches, making it appear as if it was perpetually emerging from, or merging with, the shadows around it.


    Its face, recessed into the depths of its hood, was a ghastly, featureless mask of emptiness save for its eyes. Two burning pinpricks of pale, cold light pierced through the gloom it exuded. Those eyes locked onto Mathew and radiated a sense of deep, malevolent intelligence and sorrow.


    The wraith¡¯s presence was accompanied by a chilling, oppressive cold that seemed to sap the warmth and hope from the air. It wasn¡¯t just a physical effect; it sent shivers through Mathew¡¯s soul. His vision trembled, and darkness crept along the edges of his sight.


    The spectre¡¯s movements were silent and smooth as it floated just above the ground, leaving no trace of its passage but an eerie, faint mist that lingered for a moment before vanishing. It approached Mathew slowly, deliberately exuding a sense of dread that carried the weight of countless nightmares and unspoken fears.


    A hiss emitted from its mouth, a keening wail that echoed off the buildings around them. The temperature plummeted at its call, and a layer of hoarfrost covered the ground around it.


    Unaffected by its call, Mathew raised his arm in a perfunctory manner and pointed at the monster.


    ¡®Burn.¡¯


    The Word of Power summoned flames that immediately covered the creature¡¯s black cloak. It seemed momentarily shocked by the turn of events and looked as if it were going to make an effort to flee into the shadows.


    But the magical fire was too much for it, and in a moment, it was gone from existence, leaving only a faint layer of ashes on the ground before the slight breeze blew them away through the square.


    Curiously, in the place where the Spectre perished was a small ¡®crack¡¯ in space. There was a mist spilled out from it, and Mathew could see a faint light on the other end as if the crack was a tunnel to another place.


    Lowering his arm, Mathew was about to investigate it further when his silver wristband began to vibrate, and a warmth spread along his skin from the object.


    You have discovered an entrance to The Dreamer¡¯s Nightmare Realm, ¡®The Luminous Expanse.¡¯


    The Luminous Expanse is a place where The Dreamer¡¯s subconscious fears, desires and regrets have sculpted a landscape where light and shadow merge in haunting and disorientating ways. A world suspended between twilight and dawn, where reality and dream merge.


    Enter the Luminous Expanse and find The Dreamer.


    Mathew lowered his arm, sighed deeply, and ran his fingers through his hair. He could feel the Buzz in the back of his neck, the familiar tenseness of the muscles and the goosebumps that accompanied the sensation of mortal peril that warned him not to venture into the dangerous unknown.


    Still, Mathew had no choice but to obey. Preparing himself mentally for what he was about to face, he stepped into the crack. There was a sensation of falling, matched by alternating intense heat and frigid cold. He felt like he was being turned inside out and upside down while also having a weight pressed onto his body from all directions.


    With a gasp, Mathew emerged from the crack into an entirely new world.


    The sky swirled with iridescent colours that were neither a sunrise nor a sunset. For a moment, it would be the most intense, beautiful blue he had ever seen; then, it would fall into darkness where there were no stars, only to shift to dawn to dye the sky a burning orange and red.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    This otherworldly illumination cast long, distorted shadows across the ground that slithered and writhed as though each possessed a life of its own.


    The terrain was a patchwork of ethereal, shifting surfaces that were sometimes solid, liquid or even fading into nothingness, only to shift back. There were vast plains of green grass, trees and fields of wheat or barley. They would suddenly catch fire and leave charred earth behind that would shift into rocky, barren land.


    The process would repeat in different ways before the land would give way to a sea-like shimmering, liquid glass that stretched out to the horizon. It perfectly reflected the sky above to the point where Mathew had difficulty distinguishing them. The calm liquid would suddenly boil, and bubbles or parts would rage, creating a storm that threw massive waves against the shore.


    Tower spires of translucent crystal rose from the ground; their jagged edges caught the light and cast dazzling, blinding reflections, only for them to darken and shift into buildings. Palaces, mansions, slums, warehouses, and all other structures appeared in a multitude of different styles and architectural designs.


    In the distance, mountains of shimmering smoke seem to hover, their peaks disappearing into a swirling, ever-shifting cloud before changing solid. They seemed at times to take on human-like features, like giants overlooking the dreamscape.


    The air was neither cold nor warm, but both at the same time while retaining neither of the properties. It was by far the strangest, most alien place Mathew had ever been in his lifetime. It was as if he had entered a dream where the rules of reality were both absent and reinforced to an extreme degree.


    A weight pressed down on his, an intense gravity many times the norm, while at the same time, he felt weightless and ¡®floaty.¡¯


    The only thing Mathew could do was ignore the peculiarities of this place and carry on with his goal of finding The Dreamer.


    ¡°I just don¡¯t know how I¡¯m going to do that.¡± Mathew muttered softly.


    There was no sense of stability here for him to pick a direction and walk in. He could try, but if this was an entirely new realm, there was no guarantee he wouldn¡¯t be walking the wrong way for an eternity.


    Just when he was losing hope, Mathew spotted something nearby. It was a small black and white cat. It was sat on a stump from a tree, watching him with its large, yellow eyes that reflected the light of the strange sky above.


    Curious about it, as it was the only living thing he had seen, Mathew approached it. The cat tilted its head at him before jumping off the stump and running across the grassy field next to it. Oddly, the landscape seemed to stabilize around it as if it were forcing the dreamscape to maintain its form.


    The cat stopped and turned around to look at Mathew before it bounded away once again.


    ¡°I get it; follow the cat.¡± Mathew muttered.


    The creature led him across the Luminous Realm. They walked through fields and forests, abandoned villages and ruined cities for hours before Mathew walked through an area of complete darkness. The cat seemed unperturbed by the oddity, and its presence reassured Mathew.


    Soon, the darkness cleared, and Mathew arrived at the edge of a cliff. Very few things were growing along the edge, only some sparse tufts of grass stubbornly clinging to life. A cold wind blew from the expanse beyond the cliff, an ocean of grey water that stretched as far as the eye could see.


    The sky above was cloudy and dark, and the sea was violent. Waves crashed against the cliffside, sending a white spray into the air and causing a tumultuous roar of noise.


    There was an old man standing at the edge of the cliff, staring out at the sea. He was as ancient as the oak Mathew had seen in the village square, his skin tanned and wrinkled. The man had a long, white beard and was wearing black robes.


    The cat swiftly approached the old man, who let the creature leap into his arms without looking at it. He began to pet the animal absent-mindedly as he continued to look out at the sea.


    ¡°Why have you come here?¡± The old man asked, his voice hoarse and aged.


    ¡°I¡¯m looking for The Dreamer in order to recruit them as an apostle for the god of Perennial Reveries.¡± Mathew said, knowing that this was the man he had been sent to find.


    The Dreamer didn¡¯t react to his words. Instead, he continued to pet the cat and stare across the ocean.


    ¡°Or at least wake them up. This dream is affecting the reality of the world.¡± Mathew finished. He slowly walked forward to join the old man at the edge of the cliff. The ground was far below them, filled with jagged rocks and a rough beach.


    Oddly, Mathew couldn¡¯t smell the sea at all despite being so close to it.


    After a minute of silence, the old man stopped petting the cat and raised it in his arms. To Mathew¡¯s shock, the old man tossed the cat gently off the side of the cliff! The animal fell a few feet before the wind caught its small body, and it began to fly.


    Mathew watched until the animal flew into the dark, grey clouds above them. Once it was out of sight, the old man responded.


    ¡°You have entered the Tower; what Floor are you on?¡± The old man asked.


    ¡°This is the 30<sup>th</sup>.¡± Mathew replied.


    ¡°How many years did it take you to climb so far?¡± The old man inquired, and Mathew had to think about his answer for a moment.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. It¡¯s hard to keep track of. Decades at least¡­maybe a century? Perhaps longer.¡± Mathew finished softly, shaking his head. The old man nodded in response.


    ¡°So young.¡± The old man commented. ¡°Do you have a goal to sustain you, a purpose that carries you forward?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Mathew responded, but he was unwilling to explain to the old man.


    ¡°I had a purpose, once. I entered the Tower as a young man and grew even younger as I became stronger. It seems such a silly thing now, my reason for entering. I was na?ve and hopeful, but the Tower is a grindstone and its Floors are designed to scrape away your morality, your sense of self¡­your humanity.¡±


    ¡°It desires to shape you into something you never wanted to be, never imagined you could be.¡± The old man paused for a moment, and Mathew could see the despair overcome him. His shoulders sagged, and he looked as if he were about to collapse.


    ¡°Only in this place, my dreams, can I be who I am. Who I should have been. I¡¯m an old man, ground to dust but unable to rest. Unable to die.¡± The Dreamer explained, and his image changed for a moment in Mathew¡¯s eyes.


    The old man was replaced by a youth similar in age to Mathew himself. He wore the same black robes, but these had gold embroidery and emanated a magical power, unlike anything Mathew had ever seen. There was a strength to the youth that spoke of unimaginably high levels and Blessings he could never comprehend.


    This wasn¡¯t an Apostle or someone on a similar Floor as Mathew. This was a Demigod on the verge of Ascension. Compared to Arthur, the only person Mathew had ever seen on a higher Floor than himself, The Dreamer¡¯s power was as bright as the sun where Arthur was a streetlight at night.


    ¡®That would make me a less than a candle.¡¯ Mathew thought as he took a step back from The Dreamer. The image shifted in a second as the man controlled his emotions once again. The youth was gone, and the old man was in his place.


    ¡°The gods are liars, Mathew.¡± The old man stated. Mathew¡¯s eyes opened wide in shock.


    ¡°How did you know my name?¡± Mathew inquired. He was sure he hadn¡¯t said it, and there should be no way for the old man to have discovered it in the short time together.


    ¡°You¡¯re a part of my dream, Mathew. You have been since you entered into this realm. ¡± The old man replied, his hand gesturing to encompass everything around them.


    ¡°The gods are liars.¡± The old man repeated, and this time, he looked away from the ocean. Mathew saw that his eyes were gray, the same shade as the water far below them.


    ¡°They use us for their own purposes and throw us away when they are finished. Perennial Reveries, Righteous Subjugation, and even your own Unyielding Declaration are no different from the rest. How can they care about our well-being, desires, or dreams when we are so far beneath them.¡±


    ¡°Would you care about the needs of the ants making their tunnels beneath the soil as you walk through a forest?¡± The Dreamer asked.


    ¡°What about their promise of a wish?¡± Mathew responded, and the old man shook his head sadly.


    ¡°Perhaps they will grant your desire. They are quite capable of it. But the question you should be asking is, ¡®Has anyone ever reached the top of the Tower to receive it?¡¯¡± The old man questioned. He turned to look back at the sea.


    ¡°I have certainly never spoken to anyone who has. We are enslaved, bound to the will of the gods. We are at the whims of beings of incredible power, and our only choice is to submit. At least, that was what I believed.¡± The old man explained.


    ¡°And now?¡± Mathew prodded. He was curious about this strange Dreamer who had so much power but seemed to be in the exact same situation as himself.


    ¡°There are other options. Other choices are available to us. To submit. To Refuse and perish. Or, resist and ascend.¡± The old man said. He turned his head away from the sea and looked at Mathew a final time.


    ¡°The choice always belongs with you, Mathew. I have learned that a dream can become a reality if the Dreamer possesses the will to make it so.¡± The old man nodded and, to Mathew¡¯s shock, stepped off the edge of the cliff.


    Mathew was never sure what happened next, if it was real or just a dream. The Dreamer stepped off the cliff and, like the cat had, began to fly through the air. The world around him trembled and turned to black.


    The dream shattered, and Mathew was engulfed in white light.

 Chapter 205 – Floor 31: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 205</u> ¨C Floor 31: Part 1


    Floor 31 ¨C The Titan¡¯s Wrath.


    The Kingdom of Verona, a land enmeshed in decades of conflict with their neighbours. Finally, it seems that peace is on the horizon, but not all wish to forget the grievances of the past. The wizard ¡®Eldrin Starweaver¡¯ has recently completed a ritual atop his Mage Tower to summon a Titan.


    Jagath Earthshaker, the Nascent Devastation has rested at the bottom of the ocean for millennia. Now that it has been summoned, nothing will stop it from reaching Eldrin and eliminating the wizard for the audacity of attempting to control it.


    This was Eldrin¡¯s plan to lure the Titan to his Tower, for he is aware that Jagath will destroy everything in its path, including the hated enemy, Verona. Eldrin¡¯s death will be a sacrifice to those who have fallen in this war, and it will finally have a satisfying conclusion.


    You have been summoned to Verona, along with a contingent of others from the Tower, to slow down the Titan down while another group travels to Eldrin¡¯s Mage Tower. With his death, the Titan will return to the ocean to slumber.


    Reward: Advanced Word of Power: Sanctuary (Shield/Shift)


    Upon uttering the Word of Power ¡®Sanctuary,¡¯ a shimmering, protective barrier will envelop the user or target, creating a sanctuary of Celestial Energy. The target will be granted a temporary reprieve from harm.


    There is a limit to its defence and it may be overcome by attacks of far greater power than the Users. The barrier of Celestial Energy is temporary, so use it in a timely manner.


    The city was perched on the edge of a vast and shimmering ocean. Verona, a kingdom where the land meets the sea in a beautiful embrace. The city¡¯s architecture rose up in layers along the steep cliffs, with its most bustling streets situated around the expansive harbour.


    Here, towering warships were docked alongside merchant vessels. There were more soldiers and warships than would normally be here as the war had slowed significantly in the past few months. Peace talks were being held and a ceasefire had been called until the treaty could be finalized.


    The harbour was a hive of activity, with bustling markets and warehouses brimming with goods that had been hoarded carefully to support the war effort, but had now been released for sale. Merchants were snapping up anything available to ship to distant locations.


    There was profit to be made in Verona, and nothing could stifle it. The air was alive with the mingling scents of saltwater and spices, while the crise of seagulls overhead added to the noise and buzz of the harbour.


    Above the harbour, on the high cliffs that overlooked the port, were the Cliffside Mansions. These grand estates provided a beautiful view of the vast ocean. Even the closest islands that neighboured Verona could be seen from their heights.


    Their ornate balconies and lush gardens were the pride of the City¡¯s wealthiest families and influential merchants. It was the goal of many of the merchants below to earn enough to purchase one of the mansions and join their betters.


    Scattered around the city¡¯s edges were the ¡®Seaside Towers,¡¯ sentinels that guarded the city from attack from the sea. Soon to be a relic from the decades of war, these guardians possessed weapons capable of destroying enemy ships long before it reached the shore.


    Tall and cylindrical, these structures were soon to be converted into watchtowers and lighthouses, their weapons of war swapped out for beacons to guide ships safely to the harbour and spot any illegal activity in Verona¡¯s waters.


    If the harbour was Verona¡¯s ¡®heart,¡¯ than the Market Square was where the lifeblood of trade passed through. It was a vibrant hub of activity where traders, merchants and locals would gather to trade all kinds of items from the region.


    Colourful tents and stalls lined the streets, offering everything from fish and grain to magical artifacts. For a long time, the Market had been repressed as the shadow of war kept trade stifled. But now that peace was here, the stalls exploded with activity. The sounds of laughter and activity were loud enough to drown out the noise of the sea.


    But every city had its poorer sections and Verona was no exception. The Old Town stood in stark contrast to the wealthy mansion far above them. Its streets were narrow and winding, its buildings old and in need of repair.


    The Old Town had its fair share of visitors, sailors and merchants would travel there in search of ¡®other goods¡¯ not found in the market. Brothels, pubs, bars and other ¡®seedy¡¯ establishments brought some wealth into the Old Town.


    The midday sun hung in the sky above Verona, and the heat was cut by a breeze off the ocean. The city was thriving in the newly found, hard-fought peace.


    Verona had been at war with its neighbours for decades, costing lives and resources, and the city seemed to be celebrating their peace by throwing themselves into the mundane activities that had been denied to them for so long.


    It was through this bustling, energetic city that the first tremors shook the earth. It started small, the ground vibrated slightly, like a hum that could be felt through the citizen¡¯s feet. A few small, unstable items fell over, and the Market was temporarily disrupted as the shopkeepers cursed and righted their goods.


    The tremors increased until people were screaming and many fell to the ground, the shaking intense enough that they could keep on their feet. Several buildings in the Old Town, their maintenance neglected for so long, were unable to keep upright and collapsed, sending up a screen of dust and debris.


    All across Verona, the screaming increased as people fled for areas of safety and security. In the mansions above, the shaking became even worse and the extremely wealthy of Verona¡¯s citizens, so often removed from the horrors of war or panic that would grip others, experienced true fear for the first time.


    One of the mansion, prominently placed in the very heart of the Cliffside Mansions, shook free of its foundations and slid forward across the ground. The cliff face that supported it cracked, and thousands watched as an entire mansion fell into the ocean far below.


    But the horror was just beginning. As the shaking increased, those in Verona who were watching the ocean could see it bubble and swirl. Massive, rolling waves slammed into the shore, whipped into a violent frenzy by something beneath the surface.


    From below the waves of the ocean, a colossal figure emerged. Its immense form broke through the water with a thunderous roar that echoed off the cliff of Verona. As it rose, the ocean seemed to part around its body reluctantly until the Titan¡¯s towering, rugged silhouette blocked the view of the horizon.


    The Titan¡¯s body was a mosaic of jagged stone and weathered earth, its surface was etched with intricate patterns that told the ancient story of its creation. A being of magic, birthed from deep beneath the earth in a time long passed, the Titan had finally been disturbed from its slumber.


    Possessing four arms, its limbs were a monumental blend of rock and soil. Magma flowed through its veins like blood, a burning glow that was revealed in places and converged in the Titan¡¯s eyes, scorching eyes that looked out from the sea with malevolence.


    The Titan¡¯s head, now completely surfaced from the sea, was a towering mass of rock that resembled a mountain peak. Lines of magma ran down from its eyes, gradually cooling as it flowed.


    Its presence was both awe-inspiring and foreboding, a living monument to the raw, untamed power of the earth. Its movements were the cause of the quakes; each footstep would send tremors through the ocean floor and rock Verona.


    It was in this chaotic scene that Mathew arrived near the harbour. Appearing in a flash of white light, he had barely read the message on his silver wristband before he had been thrown from his feet by an earthquake.


    He wasn¡¯t alone, hundreds of others had appeared with him. His fellow players sprang immediately into action, their behaviour shaped after thirty Floors of untold horror and violence. Acting separately or in groups, the spread out along the harbour and shore in preparation for the repelling the Titan.


    But even the most experienced people needed a leader, and as Mathew picked himself up off the ground and cursed his poor ¡®Body¡¯ attribute for his lack of balance, he heard someone shouting orders.


    A man stood on top of a pile of crates, directing the defences by pointing at areas or places with his sword, a weapon of bright steel that glowed with an intense, magical light. He wore white armour, along with a cape that matched its colour.


    In his prime, the man had long hair tied back so that it was out of his eyes, tanned skin and handsome features. There was something familiar about the man that Mathew couldn¡¯t place.


    With Mathew¡¯s arrival, the ¡®Buzz¡¯ burst out a warning. The combination of hundreds of high-level people from the Tower and the approaching Titan was too much for the ¡®Buzz¡¯, and Mathew winced in pain as it tensed his neck and shoulders.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Trying his best to ignore it and wishing it had an ¡®off¡¯ switch, Mathew focused on what the man was saying.


    ¡°-Buy time for the strike team! Tangle its legs, push it back! Forgers, I want you set up on the cliffs above!¡± The man said, directing a small group of Artificers, Forgers, and other craft-oriented Discipline to the cliffs where they would be more effective against the Titan.


    Given enough time and resources, Mathew had seen what a good Forger could build, and he agreed with what the man was doing. Mathew was about to approach and inquire as to what he should do, when the man saw him.


    The armoured warrior paused, his eyes went wide and he sucked in his breath with a hiss.


    ¡°You!¡± The man shouted, and his face was overcome with rage. Mathew thought he would leap at him, but the man visibly controlled his emotions after a moment.


    ¡°Do I know you?¡± Mathew asked. He had met a lot of people during his time in the Tower, but his memory was no longer what it was, and he had spent a long time on the Punishment Floor. He couldn¡¯t be expected to remember everyone he came into contact with.


    ¡°I am Algrond. I had thought I had made more of an impression upon you, Demon Lord Mathew.¡± Algrond growled, his face darkening as he realized Mathew had no idea who he was.


    ¡°Demon Lord¡­wait. You¡¯re that person who kept attacking me when I was trying to rule that town! What was it called again? Raise? Rest?¡± Mathew replied, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recall. That was quite a few Floors ago, and a lot has happened since then.


    He had been directed by the Tower to rule a town and pretend to be an evil ¡®Demon Lord¡¯ so that new heroes could rise up amongst the population to fight them. The fact that he had to fight a bunch of his fellow Demon Lords overshadowed everything else on that Floor, and he couldn¡¯t help forgetting some of the minor details.


    ¡°Reesh! I am Algrond, of the Lineage! I¡¯ve ventured through the Tower in anticipation of this day, Demon Lord!¡± Algrond shouted, but he was interrupted from saying anything further as the Titan took a step forward. The earthquake from the single step was worse than any before it, and more buildings collapsed in the city.


    ¡°That¡¯s great, we can catch up later! Where do you want me?¡± Mathew replied. He was forced to practically shout to be heard over the commotion. Algrond paused for a moment, noticeably collected himself, and responded.


    ¡°You can join the others with me. I recalled you are a close-ranged warrior; we will wait until the Titan is entangled on the shore and assault him directly.¡± He commanded, only to see Mathew shaking his head.


    ¡°That won¡¯t work for me! I lost all my levels and Blessings! I¡¯m better on the shore, attacking from range. I can help entrapping the Titan as well!¡± Mathew countered. He was already walking toward the beach, dragging his right leg, when Algrond yelled a response.


    But Mathew couldn¡¯t hear him as the Titan roared in anger. The first barrage of projectiles had struck its stone skin. Large bolts fired from the ballistas located in the Seaside Towers¡¯ buried themselves deeply into its body before detonating with magical force.


    Catapults launched pots of acid crafted by the Forgers and Artificers. These pots shattered on contact and spread bubbling liquids along its torso, etching deeply into the stone and soil. Others caught on fire or created explosions. Several simply disappeared with a faith ¡®pop¡¯ sending large chunks of the Titan into oblivion.


    But the efforts of the defenders were akin to gnats biting a giant. It enraged the Titan but did little to slow it down. It was like a force of nature; its approach was inevitable, and each step that brought it nearer caused damage to the city and its citizens.


    Mathew arrived on the beach just as many of his fellow participants in the Tower were preparing their long range Blessings to strike the Titan. The first barrage of Blessings slammed into the Titan with a deafening boom and a flash of light so bright that Mathew was forced to cover his eyes with his hand.


    There were balls of fire, shards of ice, streaks of light that melted stone. Acid splashed, chunks of earth crashed down on its body, and the air vibrated as sound waves attempted to shake its torso apart. Blessings of a hundred different varieties beat into the Titan, and against so many people using all of their abilities, even its giant figure was pushed back slightly.


    The Titan rocked backwards on his feet as multiple detonations and a hundred varieties of Blessings attacked it. It roared in rage and protected itself with its limbs.


    Mathew raised his hand and pointed at the Titan.


    ¡°Combust.¡± The Word of Power ripped out of his throat, and he saw the air still near the Titan¡¯s head. A pinprick of light formed before it expanded into an explosion as large as many of the others hitting it. Combust tore through the protective stone of the Titan¡¯s body, and debris rained down onto the ocean below.


    ¡°Keep it up! We can knock this thing down!¡± Someone yelled, and even Mathew felt inspired by their success. He was preparing to speak another Word when the Titan responded. The creature raised its four arms above its head and clenched them into fists.


    ¡°Shit, not good!¡± Mathew cursed, knowing that something terrible was about to happen. In response, he raised both of his own arms and held his palms out.


    ¡°Shield!¡± A glowing bubble of protection surrounded him, a thin membrane of defence against what was coming.


    The Titan roared and slammed its fists into the ocean beneath it. The sea surged, and the ground shook. Cracks formed in the earth, and great rents stretched out from the point of impact in the harbour and through the city.


    The sea rushed into the cracks wherever they formed, and dozens of buildings fell into the abyss far below them as the chasms expanded throughout the lower city. On the cliffs above, more houses slid off the high ground and plummeted into the ocean, carrying thousands to their deaths.


    The initial impact knocked Mathew off his feet, his bad leg unable to keep him upright against the shaking earth. When he managed to regain his footing, the ocean rushed to meet him. The Titan¡¯s strike had caused the water to recede into the harbour, revealing the ground beneath the waves to those defending the city.


    Like a tsunami, the receding waters only left for a moment before they came sweeping back. A hundred feet into the air, the wave rose, and Mathew watched in a mixture of awe and dread as the wave curled at the top.


    ¡°Shield isn¡¯t going to stop that!¡± Mathew hissed, already looking for a way out. Others were running away, their high body attributes or Blessings allowing them to leap far into the air or fly toward safety. Several disappeared from where they stood, teleporting to higher ground.


    But there were a few who couldn¡¯t flee; their talents lay elsewhere. They formed barricades of magic or used heavy shields or their physical strength to resist the wave.


    Mathew found what he was looking for just as the wave was about to reach him. A flag flew on a tall building near the market far behind him. He ¡®Shifted¡¯ with it when the wave crashed onto the shore, leaving the flag to be crushed beneath the force of the ocean.


    He reappeared on top of the building and let out a breath of relief. Mathew watched the wave sweep away the beach and the harbour, the waters crushing everything beneath it. It nearly reached the market before it slowed, and the waters slowly receded once more.


    He could see that the receding wave was filled with debris and bodies. Hundreds, if not thousands, had perished in the attack, and there had been nothing anyone could do to prevent it. The Titan was a being on par with a Demi-god, and Mathw doubted there was a person in the Tower who could destroy it.


    But thankfully, they only needed to buy time.


    ¡°There won¡¯t be anything left to the city by the time they take out that wizard.¡± Mathew muttered as he assessed the devastation. The Titan was still a few miles away; it was still in the process of standing after its strike.


    The Titan resumed its slow march toward Verona, and the defenders struck back with everything they had in an attempt to slow it. The Seaside Towers that had guarded the harbour for decades crumbled until there were none left.


    The Old Town was nearly gone, and the Cliffside Mansions were obliterated.


    When the Titan was only a hundred feet or so from the shore, the defenders switched tactics. Enchanted ropes were taken from inventories and hurled at the Titan¡¯s legs to entangle them.


    Blessings grew vines of stone, mana or even water to wrap around it. Even barriers of light, made as hard as steel, flew through the air to block the Titan¡¯s progress. The creature barely slowed despite their best efforts.


    More people began to use their Blessings to slow the Titan, many in creative ways. There were Blessings of cold and ice that froze the sea, Blessings of earth, soil and mud that tried to dislodge its footing and make the ocean floor to weak to support its weight.


    Seeing all of their attempts, Mathew drew in a deep breath and focused on his next Word of Power. Raising his hand, he made a grasping motion toward the sun in the sky. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure the action was necessary, but it felt right.


    ¡°Eclipse.¡± A shudder ran through his body as the advanced Word of Power ripped its way out of his throat. Spitting blood, Mathew collapsed onto one knee. But, despite his weakness, the Word of Power took effect.


    The sun above him began to dim. Something was slowly eating away at the light; a celestial object began to slide across the sun, blocking it from view. The blue sky turned to night, and there were stars in the sky. The water of the ocean turned black, and only the numerous lights created by magical Blessings provided light.


    An impenetrable darkness began to creep across the ground, so black that it drank the remaining light. Like a void, it floated across the water and settled upon the Titan. Soon, the monster¡¯s head was completely obscured from view.


    Blind, the Titan stumbled and lashed out with its four arms in every direction. With a loud boom, it slammed its open hand against its face in an attempt to dislodge the darkness. In a fury, the Titan attacked everything around it while it continued to roar.


    ¡°It¡¯s vulnerable! Hit it with everything you have!¡± Someone shouted, and more joined in. Mathew managed to look up to see the others attacking the blind Titan. With his ruined throat, Mathew was unable to call out or help them in any way.


    He saw Algrond, the sword in his hands shining with white light. He raised it above his head with two hands and sliced it downwards. A crescent moon of mana shot out from the edge of the blade and sped across the water until it cut into the Titan¡¯s leg and travelled up its torso, savaging its stone flesh.


    But it was all for nothing. Soon, the Eclipse faded, and the sun returned. The Celestial Word of Power burned away under the intense sunlight, and the Titan could see once more. Its malevolent, burning eyes focused on Mathew immediately.


    It seemed to know that he had been the source of its infirmity, and it was determined that it wouldn¡¯t happen again. The Titan needn¡¯t have worried; Mathew¡¯s voice was temporarily gone, and the Word of Power had been too much for him to summon without backlash.


    The Titan surged forward, its pace quicker than before. Unimpeded by anything the defenders threw at it, the creature finally came onto land. Its body was so tall the sun was blocked; the shadow it cast covered all of Verona.


    With its red eyes on Mathew¡¯s kneeling form, it raised its fist with the intent to smash down on him and the building below.


    Stumbling to his feet, Mathew tried to walk to the edge of the building and cast himself off. Maybe, if he were fast enough, he could hit the ground and scramble away. But it seemed his luck had run out. His leg, already barely able to support his weight, crumpled and refused to carry him.


    Mathew could only look up at the descending fist in despair.


    ¡®Ding.¡¯


    You have successfully delayed the Titan long enough for a party to eliminate the Wizard ¡®Eldrin.¡¯ The Titan, lacking a target of its ire, will return to its domain in the ocean depths.


    Congratulations!


    The burning words appeared between Mathew and the enormous, falling fist. For a moment, it seemed like the Titan would keep going, but the monster suddenly paused its actions. Slowly standing, it seemed to look into the distance beyond Verona as if looking for something. Unable to find it, the Titan slowly turned around and walked back into the sea.


    In minutes, it was gone from sight, and only the faint tremor in the ground told of its presence beneath the waves.


    Mathew let out a breath, and his body sagged in relief.

 Chapter 206 – Floor 32: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 206</u> ¨C Floor 32: Part 1


    Floor 32 ¨C You Can¡¯t Go Home Again.


    You have been offered a reprieve and a choice. Spend your time in peace, where there is no danger, and you may live a normal life. Afterwards, you can choose to stay and relinquish all of your gains earned in the Tower, forever barred from entering again.


    Or, you may return to the Tower of Avarice to continue pursuing your dream.


    The choice is yours.


    Reward: Compendium of the Celestial Language


    The Compendium contains a list of the most basic Words of Power to round out the education of a Speaker. Includes: Mend, Light, Dark, Heavy, Heal.


    Mathew lowered his arm, which contained the message from the Tower, and looked around at the town he had suddenly found himself in.


    It was a small village with several thousand houses in long, neat rows. Here, uniformity and standardization dominated the landscape. Every home was a harmonious blend of brick and stone, meticulously layered to create a seamless, almost hypnotic line of similarity across the town.


    There were no differences in the house; each was a complete clone of the next right down to the shade and placement of bricks stacked in alternating patterns. The bricks were all shades of red and warm beige, the stones grey or an earthly brown.


    Each of the houses had a symmetrical fa?ade, with evenly spaced windows framed in matching stone arches. The rooftops were uniformly pitched with gentle slopes in an A-Frame. They all had black shingles that were so clean and vibrant that they looked freshly installed.


    The homes had front gardens that followed a similar pattern of consistency. Each had neatly trimmed hedges in a dark green, well-placed pathways of light grey stone that led to the front door and blooming flowers in the same red, blue and purple shades.


    Streets divided the sections of housing, wide and broad enough for two vehicles; Mathew saw they were empty of traffic. They ran straight in each direction, not curving or alternating at all. They were flat as if the entire town and its road were on a board.


    After every ten houses, there was a small park with a playground, green lawn and exactly seven trees. Benches were placed at regular intervals down the street with lamp posts in between.


    The overall effect was one of deliberate harmony, where every element had a sense of purpose and deliberate placement. Mathew couldn¡¯t find a single thing out of place, and it almost made him dizzy. He could see easily becoming lost here if it weren¡¯t for the street signs providing directions.


    A pair of people approached him, a middle-aged couple who held hands as they walked down the street.


    The man was in his early to mid-fifties, with a look about him that was professional combined with a casual elegance in how he carried himself. His dark hair was neatly combed back with a touch of grey at the temples to accentuate his age.


    He wore a well-tailored, charcoal grey suit with a white shit and a striped silk tie. Mathew saw a gold Rolex on his wrist. The man¡¯s demeanour was calm and collected despite Mathew¡¯s sudden appearance, and he had a welcoming expression on his face.


    The woman matched him perfectly. Of a similar age, she was a picture of grace and style. Her hair was brown and neatly curled without a single hint of grey. She wore a flower-patterned dress with a modest neckline and a belt to match. Her neck was adorned with thick pearls, and her hands had several prominently displayed rings.


    They looked like they had just stepped out of a black-and-white movie or a propaganda poster from the second world war.


    ¡°Where the hell am I?¡± Mathew muttered, thinking for a moment that he had been transported back in time. They smiled at him as they neared.


    ¡°Heya, neighbour! Welcome to Asylum! We¡¯re so glad you could come to this Floor!¡± The man said as he stuck out his hand to shake Mathew¡¯s. It was rough and calloused with a firm grip. The woman also shook Mathew¡¯s hand while giving him a large, friendly smile.


    Mathew was shocked by the fact that they both had mana inside their bodies; he could practically see it swirling around them. These two were high-level, possibly more powerful than Mathew to quite a large degree.


    Oddly, the ¡®Buzz¡¯ didn¡¯t activate at all.


    ¡°You¡¯re both from the Tower? But you¡¯re so normal looking!¡± Mathew blurted out, unable to stop himself from asking. The couple didn¡¯t seem offended, instead, the man threw his head back and laughed while the woman smiled and nodded.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°We are. I¡¯m Susan; I just reached Floor 57 before arriving here.¡± Susan explained.


    ¡°Arnold, Floor 63.¡± Allen added.


    ¡°I.. don¡¯t understand. I thought this would be Floor 32, that¡¯s where I¡¯m supposed to be.¡± Mathew replied with a frown. Had he been brought to a different Floor for some unknown reason? Before his thoughts could spiral out of control, Susan reassured him.


    ¡°People come to Asylum at different times in their journey through the Tower. I don¡¯t believe it has anything to do with your progression but rather your mental state.¡± Susan explained. Seeing that Mathew didn¡¯t quite understand, Arnold interjected once again.


    ¡°You were about to crack. The Tower sensed weakness in you and sent you here.¡± Arnold said, gesturing to the homes around them.


    ¡°Why? Do the gods want to give me a little rest and relaxation before continuing on? That doesn¡¯t seem like their typical actions.¡± Mathew responded.


    ¡°No, the opposite, in fact. Someone up there is obviously hoping you quit and stay here. The easiest way to take someone out of the Tower without killing them is to send them here and let them decide to stop the journey.¡± Arnold clarified.


    ¡°Did you make any enemies on your way here?¡± Susan inquired, and Mathew let out a scoff.


    ¡°Of course, who hasn¡¯t? I can think of plenty of gods that want to see me fail. I¡¯m just surprised Unyielding Declaration would let them send me here.¡± Mathew rationalized.


    ¡°Unyielding Declaration?¡± This time, is was Arnold¡¯s turn to be confused.


    ¡°My god, I¡¯m Mathew, the Apostle of Unyielding Declaration.¡± The couple¡¯s eyes widened, and they visibly withdrew from him.


    ¡°An Apostle? I can¡¯t say we get many of those here. Usually, they are so dedicated to their deities that they would never dream of staying.¡± Arnold explained before holding up his hand to stop Mathew from talking.


    ¡°Whatever your reasons for being brought to this Floor, you¡¯re here now, and the choice to stay is yours alone. This isn¡¯t a prison; you can leave at any time.¡± The older man finished.


    ¡°Come, we¡¯ll show you to your new home. It has all the amenities, and it''s freshly stocked with everything you¡¯ll need for your stay.¡± Susan said.


    The couple walked with him down the street, their pace slower to accommodate Mathew¡¯s limp. They would point out the various parks and who lived in what houses, although Mathew had no idea how they could tell them apart.


    Other people appeared as they walked, many wearing similar clothing as the couple or various other casual outfits. But several were like Mathew, recently arrived or unwilling to change. Their armour, weapons or magical items didn¡¯t blend well with the surroundings, and they stood out like a sore thumb.


    ¡°So, I can leave at any time?¡± Mathew asked in curiosity. This Floor didn¡¯t seem so bad. There was no one trying to kill him, and everyone was friendly. He nodded at another man and woman, this couple much younger than Susan and Arnold.


    There were even children! Kids played in the parks overseen by parents and even grandparents! An entire community, wedged into the space of a Floor of the Tower of Avarice. It was something Mathew could never have imagined.


    ¡°Anytime, if you want.¡± Arnold replied.


    ¡°Or, you can stay. Give up the fight and settle down. It¡¯s a good life here, as normal of a life you will ever find for yourself.¡± Susan added.


    ¡°What do most people choose?¡± Mathew inquired, looking at another large group who were gathered in front of a house, playing games and washing their cars. All normal things you would see on a weekend in the United States.


    ¡°If I had to guess? Half and half. A normal, peaceful life is hard to give up after everything we went through in the Tower. So what if we can¡¯t use our Blessings here, or we age normally? Its better than dying quickly on the higher Floors.¡± Arnold explained.


    ¡°And we can be together, that is a Blessing in itself.¡± Susan added with a smile.


    ¡°This is you.¡± Arnold said as they stopped in front of a house that was the same as all the others. They had walked about a mile from where Mathew had appeared, and he hadn¡¯t seen a single thing change at that distance.


    ¡°You¡¯ll find everything you need inside. Rest and relax. Even if you choose to carry on to the next floor, a respite will do you good. And, after a few days, you might find yourself wanting to change out of those clothes and into a nice suit.¡± Arnold joked, straightening his jacket.


    Saying goodbye to Susan and Arnold with a promise to see them soon, Mathew entered the house. The door was unlocked, and when he saw the interior, he was struck by how normal it was.


    The porch led to a living room, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. It stretched out before him in a welcoming expanse, with a comfortable-looking sofa facing a small, tidy fireplace that already had a stack of firewood ready next to it. A modest armchair was beside the window, and a bookshelf filled with books and magazines.


    The hardwood floor looked brand new and spotless, with a rug at the center of the room beneath a coffee table.


    Beyond the living room was the kitchen, a large, open space with vintage appliances that reminded Mathew of the 1950¡¯s. A stove, fridge and kitchen table dominated the room. Walking over to it, Mathew found that the cupboards and the fridge were packed with food in recognizable brands from his home.


    Upstairs were three bedrooms with walls adorned with floral wallpaper and a second bathroom. After decades, possibly centuries, of travelling or making do with whatever accommodations he could find, this was paradise.


    A sense of normalcy struck him. Peeking out the glass door of the kitchen, he saw a large backyard with a perfect lawn and a swimming pool. Lawn chairs ringed the water, and there was a fire pit.


    ¡°I can see why no one wants to leave.¡± Mathew muttered as he finished his tour. Sinking gratefully into the comfortable sofa, he rubbed his leg with one hand to relieve the pain while pointing his other at the fireplace.


    ¡°Burn.¡± Mathew commanded in the Celestial Language. Strangely, the universe didn¡¯t react to his call, and the Word of Power failed to light the stacked wood on fire.


    ¡°Right¡­no Blessings.¡± Mathew whispered. He had thought that the Words of Power may have been exempt, but it seemed this place was completely cut off from the rest of the Tower. After resting his leg for an hour or so, and half dozing in the soft, he finally got up to cook himself something to eat.


    He burned it horribly; his cooking skills left a lot to be desired. He hadn¡¯t had much of a chance to cook since he entered the Tower, and, truth be told, he wasn¡¯t good at it when he was home either.


    Dumping the charred eggs into the trash, Mathew pulled out a carton of milk and a box of cereal from the cupboard. His supper finished, he got the hottest shower this house was capable of and crawled into the large, king sized bed in the master bedroom just as the sun was setting.


    He was going to enjoy this Floor.

 Chapter 207 – Floor 32: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 207</u> ¨C Floor 32: Part 2


    Mathew set his empty beer bottle on the side of the pool and pushed off with his legs. Floating on the pool lounger, he let the momentum carry him across the water. The sun was directly overhead, bright and hot.


    He closed his eyes in relaxation and let the warmth of the sun seep deep into his skin. The gentle lapping of the water against the sides of the pool was soothing, only broken by the rustling of the leaves as the slight breeze brushed up against them.


    There were no sounds of traffic, sirens or anything to disturb his peace. The backyard and its pool was like a separate universe, cut off from anything that would distract him or dampen the mood. Mathew drifted for a few moments, letting his thoughts wander.


    He tried to count the number of days he had been here, but he honestly couldn¡¯t keep track of them. With all of his needs catered to and the days a never-ending, blissful and beautiful summer, he lost count.


    More than a few months, for sure, but less than a year. Perhaps. He was having a similar problem he had on the Punishment Floor, settling into a routine and forgetting the time. Idly, but with no real purpose, he began to estimate if he had been here for more than a year when a noise interrupted him.


    The backyard¡¯s tranquility was interrupted by the sound of laughter. Mathew opened his eyes to see Mia, his neighbour and friend, approaching the pool with a smile. She was carrying a tray of colourful drinks, each garnished with a tiny umbrella.


    Mia had a striking and vibrant appearance that would make her stand out in any crowd. She was of average height, with a graceful and athletic build that she had gained from her time in the Tower. Her skin was a warm, golden brown that complimented her lively personality and added to her radiant presence.


    With thick, dark, wavy curls that framed her face, she had matched it with a sun dress. She leaned down and set the drinks by the edge of the pool.


    Mathew had met her just after he had ¡®moved¡¯ into the neighbourhood. As someone who was also here only temporarily, Mia had introduced herself and they had instantly ¡®clicked.¡¯ Not in a romantic way, at least not on Mathew¡¯s part, but they had become close friends


    It was strange; it was almost like everything on this Floor was designed to get him to want to stay.


    ¡°I thought you might need a refill.¡± Mia called out to him, her voice cheerful as she took off her shoes and put her feet in the water. Taking a glass, she took a sip and set it on the pool edge while Mathew paddled his way slowly over.


    He gave her a lazy wave as he did so. ¡°You¡¯re a lifesaver. I was just about to start debating with myself on whether or not to get up.¡±


    Mia rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. ¡°Well, don¡¯t sing my praises too early. Susan and Arnold came to visit me, and they have some news.¡±


    ¡°So you thought to soften the blow with drinks? Very keen! What do they have planned now? Singles mixer? Sock hop? Movie night?¡± Mathew teased.


    He reached the edge of the pool and picked up the glass with one hand while the other took the small umbrella peeking out of the top and flicked it over the side. Mia frowned at the trash, picking it up and placing it on the tray.


    ¡°No, apparently, we¡¯re having a very special visitor tonight.¡± Mia explained, her face forming a frown. Mathew paused in his action of pushing himself back into the center of the pool when he saw it. He had known Mia for a while now, although he wasn¡¯t exactly sure how long, and he rarely saw her frown.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± Mathew asked, feeling ice form in the pit of his stomach. Strange, he hadn¡¯t experienced panic or dread since he had arrived here. They were so foreign to the paradise of Asylum.


    ¡°They didn¡¯t give a name, but they¡¯re from the Tower.¡± Mia replied softly, her delicate hand gripped the little umbrella in her drink and twirled it, causing the ice inside to clink against the sides of the glass.


    ¡°It¡¯s time?¡± Mathew asked, half a question and half a statement. Their time freeloading on Floor 32 was coming to an end. He had been told shortly after he arrived that he would need to make a decision eventually, whether to continue through the Tower or give up and stay.


    He just thought he would have more time.


    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± Mia inquired, and Mathew shook his head.


    ¡°Keep going. I have someone to find.¡±


    Mia was quiet for a moment; the only sound was the wind coming through the leaves and the ice clinking in her glass. He saw her expression harden for a moment as she set the glass down with purpose. Taking a deep breath, she turned toward him.


    She had an intensity about her that he had never seen before.


    ¡°You¡¯re happy here, right?¡± Mia demanded.


    Mathew immediately nodded. It was the happiest and most content he had felt since he had entered the Tower. No one was trying to kill him; no one was dying around him. He could sleep in a bed, eat whatever he wanted and not have to worry about anything.


    It was paradise.


    ¡°Then stay!¡± Mia pleaded, and Mathew was stunned. There were tears in her eyes, something as foreign to him now as rain, clouds or snow.


    ¡°Think about it, there¡¯s nothing out there that¡¯s going to be better than what we have here! I know you have someone you¡¯re looking for, but who¡¯s to say that you¡¯re ever going to find her?! She could be dead and no amount of wishing and hoping is going to bring her back. You¡¯re just going to get yourself killed if you try to reach the top of the Tower.¡±Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Mia, I..¡± Mathew stammered, struggling to respond. This was too sudden, her words too truthful and filled with hurt to process at the moment.


    Wiping her eyes, she stood up from the side of the pool.


    ¡°Just¡­think about it, Ok? You¡¯re happy here¡­we¡¯re happy here.¡± Mia finished and walked away before he could react. Trying to digest everything that was just said, he floated silently in the pool.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The meeting was being held in one of the small parks just a few miles from Mathew¡¯s house. All the new arrivals to Asylum would be in attendance, along with many of the town¡¯s current inhabitants. Those who had been here for a while had witnessed many of their ceremonies but still attended as it broke up the monotony of paradise.


    The park had been decorated with lights, banners and streamers. Twinkling fairy lights draped from the trees, casting a warm, inviting glow over the gathering. Colourful banners fluttered gently in the breeze and vibrant streamers crisscrossed overhead like a patchwork quilt of colour.


    The pathways through the park were lined with lanterns, their soft, flickering light guiding visitors through the trees and benches. Laughter and music filled the air as people gathered together and chatted.


    Mathew arrived just after the sunset, as close to the appointed time as possible. Any later, he would have missed the visitor, although he had no idea what the consequences would be.


    He was wearing his magical jacket, shirt and jeans. It was the first time since he had arrived that he wore it; he usually preferred to grab something from the closet in his house. But, if this was going to be his last night here, he wanted to have everything ready.


    Mathew was divided on whether to stay or leave. On the one hand, he needed to find Emily and help her achieve her wish and get them both out of the Tower alive. On the other hand, Mia could be right. It was likely that Emily was dead or didn¡¯t need his help at all.


    He wasn¡¯t some hero or gallant knight riding in on a white steed to save the day. Mathew knew he was too flawed and selfish for that.


    Heros died early in the Tower.


    Tugging his jacket straight, Mathew walked down the lit path of the park to join the others in waiting for the guest to arrive. Nodding his greeting to those he passed, he was soon face to face with Mia, who turned her head away and ignored him.


    He understood the emotions involved in a decision like they would be making tonight, and it was clear from how she dressed that Mia intended to stay. She fit in perfectly, while Mathew stuck out like a sore thumb.


    ¡°Everyone, if you would please gather.¡± Arnold said from where he stood on a small, raised area of the park. The music and noise ceased, and soon, hundreds were assembled. Clearing his throat, Arnold spoke again.


    ¡°In a moment, our guest from the Tower will arrive. We ask that everyone respect the decisions made here tonight. There will be no time for goodbyes for those who choose to leave us. Know that we understand that this is a private matter, and it is not for us to judge you.¡± Arnold said, his eyes slowly scanning the dozen or so people who would be asked if they wished to stay or leave.


    Having said his part, Arnold descended and joined Susan with some of the other older citizens. They were all respectfully silent while they waited a moment for the guest to arrive. In less than a minute, Mathew heard the sounds of heels clicking on the pavement.


    His eyes opened in astonishment as he saw who the ¡®guest¡¯ was. It was the woman in the grey suit who he had seen in the Lobby of the Tower on his very first day. His memory was terrible; half of it was a blurry mess since Unyielding Declaration had taken his levels.


    But he could recall her with perfect clarity.


    She was a striking figure, her youthful face framed by a sleek cascade of dark hair that fell just past her shoulders. Her skin was pale, and her large, brown eyes looked prominent beneath her well-defined brows.


    Her features were sharp and graceful, with a straight nose and high cheekbones. Her lips were full, and she held a hint of a knowing smile as her eyes locked onto Mathew¡¯s. She stood tall and poised, her slim frame accentuated by a meticulously tailored grey business suit.


    ¡°You?¡± Mathew blurted out, unable to help himself from gasping. He hadn¡¯t expected to see her again.


    ¡°Me, Mr. Larson. You look well rested.¡± The young woman responded.


    ¡°You know each other?¡± Mia asked, and Mathew thought he saw a tinge of jealousy on her face. He shook his head.


    ¡°Not really. She inducted me into the Tower on my first day and gave me some help along the way.¡± Mathew replied, but Mia was suspicious. Her eyes went from Mathew to the grey-suited woman and back again.


    ¡°And now I am here to bring you to the next Floor, if you wish.¡± The grey-suited woman said, her eyes leaving Mathew¡¯s and moving on to the others. Starting from the right, she walked to the first in line and asked.


    ¡°So, do you wish to carry on to the next Floor, or stay here?¡± She asked. The young man she spoke to waited momentarily before shaking his head.


    ¡°I want to stay.¡± He said, and the grey-suited woman nodded.


    ¡°As you wish.¡± There was a faint haze of Aether around the young man that rose from his body and dissipated. He stumbled forward half a step before recovering. His Blessings, Disciplines, levels and inventory had been taken and returned to the Tower.


    One after another, the people gathered all chose to stay. Even Susan and Arnold were surprised by the amount that refused to carry on.


    Finally, it was Mia¡¯s turn to answer. When she confirmed that she was staying and the Aether left her body, she turned to look at Mathew. He could see that she was silently pleading for him to stay in Asylum, to spend his life in peace and safety with her.


    And, truth be told, a large part of him did want to stay. He didn¡¯t want to fight anymore, to kill or be killed. He didn¡¯t want to hurt, suffer, or see those around him suffer. He didn¡¯t want to work for gods who didn¡¯t care if he lived or died, to do their bidding without understanding why.


    Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay


    A voice whispered in his ear for him to stay. His heart urged him to stop and rest. His body subconsciously wanted to return to the home he had here. He remembered the food, the relaxing atmosphere, his large bed and comfortable sofa.


    Mathew¡¯s leg ached, and he wanted nothing more than to sit in his living room with an ice pack.


    ¡°I want to¡­¡± Mathew¡¯s lips parted, and he nearly blurted out that he wanted to stay. That he desired nothing more than to never leave this Floor.


    But he didn¡¯t. Some part of him, some tiny, insignificant part that he had shoved aside during his time here, remembered why he was here. He was here for Emily and her mother. He was here for Greg and all the other people he had met along the way. He was here for his parents and the hope that he would return to them someday.


    He was here for Unyielding Declaration and the debt he owed the deity for saving him. He was here the make the gods suffer for what they had done to him and all of humanity who entered this damn Tower. He was here to reach the top and make his dream come true.


    Mathew wanted to be happy, and he wanted that same happiness for the others as well.


    ¡°I want to leave.¡± Mathew whispered, the word practically a hiss as his body tried to stop him from speaking. But the word left his mouth, and he found that he meant it. The grey-suited woman smiled and nodded.


    ¡°I knew you would.¡± She said, raising her hand and snapping her fingers.


    Asylum disappeared into darkness, Mia and all the others melted away from sight as if they were an illusion.


    Which they had been. He realized that now, with his progression to the next Floor, came understanding. Everything he had experienced hadn¡¯t been real, at least not permanent.


    ¡°What¡­what would have happened if I had chosen to stay?¡± Mathew asked and the grey-suited woman shrugged.


    ¡°The illusion would have been maintained, and you would have lived your life. Eventually, it would all have faded away with you when you died.¡± She admitted.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯

 Chapter 208 – Floor 33: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 208</u> ¨C Floor 33: Part 1


    Floor 33: The Resplendent Dawn


    This world is a stark testament to the devastation wrought by the Orb of Twilight. You witnessed the Orb being purchased during an Auction on Floor 20, where a third party obtained it for nefarious means. The Orb of Twilight is capable of consuming a sun and applying its power to fuel its curse.


    The Orb, a relic of darkness and spite, has been brought to this world. Once brimming with light and life, it now languishes in eternal night. The Relic has drained the sun¡¯s radiance, plunging the planet into an unending void of darkness, a frozen waste consumed by storms and inhabited by malicious creatures drawn by the Orb¡¯s power.


    In the heart of this shadowed realm, a solitary beacon of hope remains. The Resplendent Dawn, a majestic flying ship powered by a rare and precious Shard of the Sun. This fragment of solar brilliance is the last source of light in this forsaken world. Its warm, golden glow cuts through the encroaching gloom as the ship prepares for its perilous journey.


    As a Champion of the Gods, it is your duty to safeguard The Resplendent Dawn and its precious cargo of sunlight as it makes its way through the suffocating darkness. The ship is the only vessel capable of navigating the treacherous void, but its is not invincible.


    The darkness that has devoured this world is alive, and it seeks to extinguish the shard¡¯s light. The Orb¡¯s influence is a constant threat; it is driven by the desire to engulf the last Shard of Sunlight in shadow.


    The survival of the remaining people, those who cling to hope and wait for refuge, depends on The Resplendent Dawn reaching its destination.


    Reward: Compendium of Advanced Words.


    While this tome provides no new words to the reader, it will allow the Speaker an improved understanding of the Celestial Language, allowing the Speaker to use Advanced Words more effectively and reduce the physical burden on the Speaker¡¯s body.


    ¡°Heal¡± Mathew whispered as he held his hand over his right leg. His palm emitted a glow of energy and he ran it slowly up and down his right hip, thigh and knee. The pain gradually eased, and he could feel something inside his body knitting together.


    After a few minutes, the glow faded, and he tentatively tried to have his right leg support his weight. To his surprise and delight, his leg didn¡¯t hurt at all. Mathew was free of pain for the first time in decades. It was almost worth going through the heartache of the previous Floor.


    He still couldn¡¯t believe it had all been an illusion. Susan, Arnold and Mia, all the people he knew from there, weren¡¯t real. It had all been a trick to try to get him to quit the Tower.


    Mathew had asked the grey-suited woman why he had been chosen for that Floor and what its purpose was, and her reply was similar to Arnold''s. Apparently, Unyielding Declaration had stepped on someone¡¯s toes, and they were seeking revenge.


    Since Mathew was Unyielding Declaration¡¯s Apostle, it made sense to strike out at him.


    As Mathew stood, the elevator slowed down, and the doors slowly opened. Healed and ready, Mathew strode through the elevator doors into darkness.


    The void was absolute.


    As Mathew stepped out of the well-lit elevator, the doors closed behind him, and he was swallowed by a blanket of darkness that was so profound that it felt almost tangible. His breath caught in his throat as he emerged into a landscape untouched by light.


    Before him stretched an endless expanse of terrain, the ground already beginning to be covered in a thick layer of crystalline frost that glinted eerily in the weak, distant glow of the few remaining stars in the sky that had not yet been blocked from sight by the Orb of Twilight.


    Now a pitch-black abyss, the sky seemed to fold in on itself. It pressed down upon the planet below with a suffocating weight. Aside from a few distant pinpricks of light that cast only the faintest illumination through the oppressive darkness, the once-familiar night sky was now absent of everything.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Mathew¡¯s eyes could hardly adjust to the dimness; he only saw hints of the landscape''s stark desolation. The air was bitterly cold, biting through his clothing despite its many enchantments designed to repel the elements.


    In the distance, Mathew could make out some shadows that were lighter than the others. As he walked forward, his boots crunching on the hard, frozen ground, he found some remnants of civilization that rose up out of the ground like skeletal fingers reaching toward the sky.


    Bits of concrete buildings, parts of a road, or a tree, its leaves still green and frost-covered by the sudden onset of cold.


    As Mathew walked through this wasteland, the weight of the darkness pressed down upon him. It was a constant reminder of the sun¡¯s absence; his heart was heavy, and he felt a mixture of dread and despair at what had happened to this planet.


    The Sunless world stretched endlessly, a sombre monument to what had once been a thriving civilization, now fallen to ruin, occupied only by Mathew¡¯s solitary figure in the midst of an eternal night.


    Mathew walked for only a few minutes, but the cold was already becoming too much for him to handle. His fingers were white with the cold, and even tucking them into his pockets couldn¡¯t relieve him of the chill.


    Looking up, he saw another star twinkle brightly before it was swallowed in darkness. The world seemed to grow a tiny bit dimmer around him. Letting out a sigh, Mathew lowered his gaze toward the ground.


    That¡¯s when he saw it. A glimmer of light in the distance, a faint glow against the darkness. Hurrying his steps, he came to a small rise and was granted his first look at the ship that was carrying the last of this world¡¯s people to a new home.


    The Resplendent Dawn was a marvel of unparalleled beauty imbued with purpose. Its outer appearance was strikingly bright in the surrounding darkness. The ship''s hull, a masterful blend of gleaming brass and rich, auburn-coloured wood, emitted a soft, golden glow that surrounded the vessel like a cocoon.


    This light was ethereal and otherworldly, emanating from the ship through lines of magical energy that formed symbols and glyphs on the hull. It was the sole source of illumination in the shadowy expanse, its glow casting a warm and reassuring radiance.


    Enormous sails reached into the sky. White and pristine, they were crafted from shimmering, almost translucent materials that stretched from the ship¡¯s three masts. These sails rippled with the golden light from the hull, but their colours would shift subtly as they caught the glow, sending a rainbow effect across the material.


    In the center of the sails was a symbol: a golden sun with beaming rays that extended to the edges of the fabric, blazing with a magical fire. It seemed as though the celestial body itself had been captured and imprinted upon the material, its fiery essence forever etched into the sails.


    Two wings stretched out from the hull on either side of the ship. These wings were detailed with fine arcane engravings with similar lines of power as they kept the vessel aloft.


    The Resplendent Dawn hovered a dozen feet or so off the ground as if they were waiting for something. Quickening his pace, Mathew soon arrived at the ship.


    As he entered the bubble of light cast from the vessel, he felt a warmth like the sun on a summer¡¯s day strike his face. It drove away the cold, and Mathew let out a breath of relief at the sudden absence.


    Someone on board had obviously seen him approach, for someone¡¯s head peeked over the side and greeted him.


    ¡°Are you the Champion we have been waiting for?¡± A man called out. His voice had an accent Mathew didn¡¯t recognize.


    ¡°I am.¡± Mathew called back. A ladder was lowered, and Mathew quickly found himself on the deck, surrounded by people. Ignoring the greetings and endless questions, his eyes locked on the person in charge.


    An older woman in a uniform, she had a commanding presence about her that drew his attention. Stepping forward, she greeted him.


    ¡°I am Elysia Thorne, Captain of the Resplendent Dawn.¡± Elysia said, her tone clipped and short as if she were cutting off her words before they ended naturally.


    Mathew found her to be an imposing figure. She had silver hair, tied back into a practical bun that did nothing to hide her eyes. Sharp and piercing, they locked onto his and seemed to be trying to dig out his every secret.


    She wore a perfectly tailored and untouched uniform in a deep blue with golden embroidery. High-collared, it was matched with a belt that had a sabre sheathed on her hip. Surprisingly, Mathew could feel mana coming from the Captain, enough that she would be the equal of players from the lower Twenty Floors.


    ¡°I¡¯m Mathew, The Enduring. Apostle to the god of Unyielding Declaration.¡± Mathew replied, matching her formality with his own. It was often better to try to set a good first impression if he wanted these people to trust and rely on him.


    The Captain¡¯s eyes widened slightly at the word ¡®Apostle,¡¯ showing Mathew that she understood the significance of that title.


    ¡°It is good to have you here, Apostle. We have been waiting for a Champion to assist us on our journey to our place of refuge. The void is no place to travel casually, not with the light of the sun absent from our skies.¡± The Captain explained, and Mathew nodded.


    He was about to ask a question when the Captain spun on her heel and began to give orders. In moments, the Resplendent Dawn was rising into the sky. If there had been anyone on the ground below, they would have thought the missing sun had returned.


    But their despair would have returned as the ship was eventually swallowed by the darkness, silently disappearing from sight.

 Chapter 209 – Floor 33: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 209</u> ¨C Floor 33: Part 2


    Mathew watched from the deck as the Resplendent Dawn ascended, its glowing grandeur momentarily banishing the surrounding darkness of the void. He felt the weight of the Captain¡¯s words settle over him; this journey through this desolate expanse would be a test of every ounce of their resolve.


    And it would be up to him to see them through.


    Sure, the Resplendent Dawn had weapons on board: magical cannons that would stream great gouts of flame directly harnessed from the Sun Shard, or the crew had their own rifle, swords and other enchantment items, but Mathew knew it would be his responsibility to protect the ship.


    As the ship climbed higher, the edges of the hull caught the last remnants of starlight before they, too, were swallowed by the darkness. The few fleeting pinpricks of light across the endless abyss felt like the last gasp of a dying universe.


    Mathew could sense the tension in the crew and people around him, a palpable mix of anxiety and fear mingled with a few shreds of hope that were directed at him. They were venturing into the unknown with the last remaining members of this world¡¯s people, and only the Captain¡¯s bravery and an Apostle¡¯s presence kept them from breaking.


    The Captain¡¯s swift transition from briefing the crew and Mathew of the threat and jumping into action was a testament to her experience and leadership. Captain Elysia had never been in this situation before, travelling through the void created by the Orb of Twilight, but she knew there was no room for hesitation or doubt.


    Every decision had to be decisive, every action calculated in order to ensure their success. For Mathew, his presence was integral to their survival as both a means of protection and a source of morale. At this point in the journey, he just tried to stay out of the way of the crew and be ready for whatever happened next.


    As the Resplendent Dawn was consumed by the engulfing darkness, Mathew steeled himself for what lay ahead. The Words of Power were constantly swirling through his mind, ready to be unleashed at a moment¡¯s notice.


    The ship drifted silently into the dark, with a slight humming sound coming from the hull accompanied by a small vibration in the wood beneath his feet. Curious, he knelt down and placed his hand on the deck.


    Something was thrumming far below him, and Mathew could feel surges of mana through the thick wooden deck.


    ¡°That¡¯s the Sun Shard if you were wondering.¡± Captain Elysia explained. Her part was done for now; the crew had their orders, and things were running smoothly. With nothing to do at the moment but oversee their progress, she joined him near the railing.


    ¡°It powers everything here, from the sails to the defensive formations.¡± She finished as Mathew stood upright. He was glad his right leg had been healed. Only a day ago, he wouldn¡¯t have been able to manage kneeling at all.


    ¡°The last source of light in the world.¡± Mathew replied, and the Captain nodded. Nothing more was said as they both stared out into the darkness. It was strange; Mathew almost expected to see something in the expanse beyond their ship¡¯s light.


    The void was an uncharted sea of darkness stretching beyond the confines of human understanding. It enveloped the Resplendent Dawn in a shroud of impenetrable blackness, as though the ship had been swallowed by a cosmic abyss where the light itself dared no tread.


    But there was air in the void. Mathew could feel the wind on his face; it rippled the sails above them. No matter how far they travelled above the ground, it was still all around him. It was as if they were travelling through a night sky that stretched in every direction.


    The void was silent, and aside from the murmur of voices from those around him and the din created by the crew as they worked, nothing was heard from outside the ship. The air was cold and clean, lacking any smell or scent.


    After an hour of staring out at their surroundings, Mathew had to turn away from the void and focus on the ship itself.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    The darkness was so profound that he found it started to play tricks on his eyes. He was getting nauseous; the void warped his sense of depth, distance and direction. Shadows shifted and twisted in ways that defied logic.


    Mathew thought he saw fleeting glimmers of light out of the corner of his eye, distant and spectral flickering in the void like embers. But when he turned to look at them, they disappeared and he knew that it hadn¡¯t been real.


    The ship seemed to float in a timeless expanse, where he had no idea if they were even moving anymore. There were no boundaries in the void, and it felt like they were stationary in an infinite, intangible realm.


    The oppressive solitude weighed down on them, magnifying everyone¡¯s fears and concerns. Even the most stalwart amongst the crew were almost desperate for something to change, for a hint of direction, but nothing altered in the darkness.


    ¡°How do you know you¡¯re going in the right direction?¡± Mathew whispered, careful to keep his voice down. It seemed appropriate in the silence as if they were flying next to a giant, predatory beast in the darkness that he feared to awaken.


    ¡°Using this.¡± The Captain replied. She pulled out a small object from her pocket and showed it to him. Lifting the lid of the object, it revealed a compass. The needle was pointing in the direction at the front of the ship, indicating they were travelling in the correct direction.


    Mathew could see the telltale glow of mana around it, that faint shimmer that all enchanted items had.


    ¡°It¡¯s locked to the ¡®Refuge.¡¯ As long as we follow its guidance, we will arrive there in time.¡± Elysia explained.


    ¡°What is the ¡®Refuge?¡¯ I was only told that it was a place of safety for you and your people.¡± Mathew inquired.


    ¡°It is a ¡®Pocket Universe.¡¯ A dimensional rift to an artificial plane. We aren¡¯t sure how long it has been there or who created it. This ship was built to explore it further, but now we must take our chances inside.¡±


    The Captain and Mathew spent some more time discussing the rift, the ship they were on and the origins of the Orb of Twilight. Unfortunately, no one knew why the Orb had arrived here or who was responsible for the disaster that was assailing them.


    Bereft of answers, Mathew could only drop the subject.


    Minutes turned to hours, hours into days. Mathew was given quarters below deck, a small room with a cot and not much else. The monotony began to take its toll on him before something finally happened. He was on deck speaking with the Captain when something emerged from the void.


    Mathew thought it was his eyes playing tricks on him, but when he heard shouts and cries from others, he knew that it was real.


    A cluster of small serpents glided silently out of the darkness and into the light cast by Resplendent Dawn. They were elongated, shadowy entities; their scales shimmered with ghostly bioluminescence, making the encompassing gloom even more imposing.


    As they slithered out of the void, their bodies undulated in motion that was both fluid and predatory. Their jaws would open to drink in the light, and Mathew could see that their mouths were lined with translucent, needle-like teeth.


    There were dozens at first, but they were soon joined by more. Hundreds, then thousands of the serpents followed in the wake of the Resplendent Dawn, swallowing motes of light like fish feeding on flies or insects.


    While harmless, their numbers made everyone nervous, and soon, the passengers requested that the Captain drive the creatures away. Unwilling to expend the ship''s mana or stockpile of ammunition, she turned to Mathew.


    Standing at the railing, Mathew raised his hand and pointed at the cluster of creatures.


    ¡°Fear¡±


    Like a school of fish who had been leisurely swimming beneath the surface of the ocean, only to be startled by a thrown rock, the Void Serpents, as the crew would come to call them, scattered in all directions.


    They fled to the edges of the Resplendent Dawn¡¯s halo of light, only to stop and refuse to go further. Multiple Words of Power from Mathew did nothing to encourage them further, and the ship had to accept that they had gained new followers.


    Harmless, they followed in the ship¡¯s wake, always coming closer until Mathew drove them back once again.


    A week after the Void Serpents arrived, a new creature approached the ship. Like a beacon in the night calling to everything that could see its warm light, Wraiths were attracted to the Last Shard of the Sun.


    The Void Wraiths floated through the darkness like phantoms of another realm. Their forms were barely more than wisps of swirling, dark energy drifting effortlessly through the void¡¯s oppressive silence. When they emerged from the shadow surrounding the Resplendent Dawn, their appearance sent the crew into a panic.


    Lacking physical substance, they had long, flowing appendages that writhed in an eerie dance. They were like ghosts, flitting in and out of the darkness. Like the Void Serpents, these Wraiths were drawn by the light, and they gobbled it down with reckless abandon.


    Unsatisfied with the small amount of light and heat the Resplendent Dawn was emitting, the Wraiths swarmed toward the ship.


    Their presence created a pervasive chill much worse than the void. Frost gathered on the deck, and ice began to creep along the edge of the sails. The voice of the Wraiths was a hypnotic hum that sapped the energy and vitality from everyone who heard it.


    As Mathew stood at the edge of the Resplendent Dawn and watched as the thousands of Wraiths descended upon them, he knew that their journey through the void had lost what little peace it had. From now on, it would become a life-and-death struggle.

 Chapter 210 – Floor 33: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 210</u> ¨C Floor 33: Part 3


    ¡°Combust¡±


    The Word of Power ripped through Mathew¡¯s throat like molten fire, searing and scaring his mouth and tongue.


    The descending Void Wraiths, their bodies flitting between physical and ethereal, were caught unaware by the magic. The blast of heat and light was intense enough that the crew and passengers watching were forced to shield their eyes from the sudden flash.


    The wave of scorching energy cascaded over the Void Wraiths, their eerie, otherworldly forms writhing and flickering as if caught in a storm of incandescent fury. The once-spectral entities were momentarily solidified as the shadows and darkness was pushed back. Their ghastly visages were twisted in almost human expressions of shock and agony.


    Mathew, his throat raw and head swimming from using the Word of Power, staggered back from the force of the Celestial magic. The effort had drained him, but he forced himself to remain upright by gripping the wooden railing.


    Through the haze of fire and light, squinted to see the results of ¡®Combust.¡¯ The Void Wraiths, now visible in their entirety, were tumbling through the air. Their forms disintegrated into motes of dark energy whenever they made contact with the flames.


    The dark energy gradually dissolved into the void, consumed by the darkness that had birthed them.


    The crew, who had braced themselves against the railing or ducked behind whatever cover they could find, began to emerge cautiously. The deck was littered by the remnants of the Wraiths chilling energy, hoarfrost still covered large sections.


    Captain Elysia, a veteran of many voyages, approached Mathew and nodded her head.


    ¡°Good work, Apostle. Are you well?¡± Elysia asked, her expression showing a tinge of concern. She was careful not to allow the crew or passengers to notice her worries or draw attention to Mathew¡¯s diminished state.


    Mathew nodded weakly, his face pale and sweat-slicked.


    ¡°I¡­I need a moment.¡± He managed, his voice a harsh whisper. The Captain¡¯s eyes softened slightly in understanding. She patted him on the shoulder before walking away. Her voice was immediately raised as she worked to restore order and get the crew working.


    It was her way of keeping all eyes on her and away from Mathew as he recovered. Drawing a deep breath, he leaned heavily on the rail and looked out at the darkness.


    In the distance, the dark horizon seemed to pulse with the promise of more dangers lurking just beyond the edge of the ship¡¯s halo of light. The Void Wraiths may have been driven back or destroyed for the moment, but Mathew knew that there was no telling what horrors the darkness may birth.


    Over the week, the Wraiths assailed them three more times. During their last encounter with them, Mathew hadn¡¯t been enough to keep them away from the ship and Captain Elysia was forced to use the cannons.


    Great gouts of flame spat out from the sides of the Resplendent Dawn, illuminating the deck in a fierce, flickering glow. The ship¡¯s cannons, fueled by arcane energy from the Sun Shard and traditional firepower, belched fire as they unleashed a barrage at the remaining Void Wraiths that had avoided Mathew¡¯s Word of Power.


    The inferno carved through the void, dispersing the spectral entities in a series of dazzling, fiery explosions. The heat from the cannons was intense, creating a stark contrast to the cold, oppressive darkness of the Void.


    The deck was bathed in the relentless, harsh light of the ship¡¯s weaponry. Crew members worked feverishly at their stations, their faces set in grim determination as they kept the fire and magic flowing.


    Mathew, still speaking the Words of Power to keep the Void Wraiths at bay in concert with the ship¡¯s weapons, watched with a mix of awe and exhaustion. The power of the cannons was impressive, their destructive force a testament to the ship¡¯s preparation for such a threat in the Void.


    As the last of the Void Wraiths were driven away, the flames of the cannons slowly died down, leaving the Resplendent Dawn in a smoke-filled haze. The deck was scorched and battered, but the ship and its occupants had survived the latest onslaught.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    For the next two weeks they saw nothing from the occasional group of Void Serpents emerging from the darkness and creeping back again as they seemed to learn that the Resplendent Dawn was not somewhere they could easily feed.


    Just when Mathew thought that perhaps they had gone through the worst of the Void, that they were out of danger and it would be smooth sailing, a new creature emerged from the darkness.


    In stark contrast to the Void Serpents, who were small and harmless, the monster that approached the ship from the void was large and fearsome.


    The creature was a nightmarish colossus, a grotesque amalgamation of shadow and flesh that defied the natural order. It glided forward with the sinuous grace of the Void Serpents but on a scale far beyond anything seen in the mortal realm.


    It dwarfed the Resplendent Dawn, making the ship look tiny and delicate in comparison.


    The monster¡¯s massive, undulating body stretched endlessly into the void behind it. It was covered in a hide that seemed to ripple and writhe with a life of its own, shifting between an inky blackness and the pale, bloated flesh of a corpse.


    The creature¡¯s scales were not uniform in colour or shape, but rather a horrendous patchwork of gnarled, overlapping plates that pulsed and quivered as it moved. Where the scales were torn or missing, the flesh beneath was a sickly, translucent membrane that revealed dark, writhing tendrils of mana beneath.


    The creature had dozens of eyes on its head, placed at irregular intervals and pointed in odd directions, and two slits in front to breathe. Its mouth would open periodically to flick out a black tongue to taste the air. When it did so, Mathew could see rows of needle-like teeth that dripped with a viscous fluid. The creature¡¯s tongue was forked and barbed.


    For the first time, Mathew saw Captain Elysia at a loss. She stared out at the creature with her eyes wide in terror. All movement had ceased on the deck as the scale of the monster became apparent.


    How could they fight a creature that could swallow their ship whole?


    ¡°Captain!¡± Mathew hissed, his voice carrying a sense of urgency that cut through her terror. He saw those grey eyes harden as the fear was quickly replaced by determination.


    ¡°Ready everything we have!¡± The Captain ordered, her voice booming out across the silent deck. The crew acted as if they were awakening from a terror-induced slumber. Their movements were sluggish, their reactions muted. But, as they started to stir, the momentum amongst them began to build.


    In moments, the deck was abuzz with activity. Cannons were ready, ammunition was loaded, and every shred of energy from the Sun Shard was prepared. The passengers and many of the crew readied their weapons as well.


    Arrows were fitted with incendiary tips, rifles were loaded with explosive rounds. The humans of the Resplendent Dawn scrambled, their fear pushed aside by the raw adrenaline of the impending battle.


    ¡°We need to hold! Refuge is on the horizon!¡± Elysia shouted as she moved swiftly amongst them, her gaze never leaving the monstrous beast that loomed in the distance.


    ¡°Fire on my mark!¡± She roared, her voice cutting through the chaos.


    Mathew¡¯s eyes were locked onto the creature, analyzing its every movement. The slits on its head flared open as it drew in the air, and its barbed tongue flicked out, tasting the air for prey. Its attention was locked onto the ship; its many eyes all slowly swivelled to stare at them.


    The monster was so near to them that Mathew could smell its fetid breath wash over him.


    ¡°Fire!¡± Elysia¡¯s voice bellowed.


    The cannons roared, and a storm of fire and steel shot toward the creature. The projectiles struck with thunderous force, and for a moment, it seemed the monster might be driven back. The noise was deafening, and Mathew could see nothing from the fire and explosions.


    But as the smoke and flames cleared, the creature remained unharmed; its massive form had barely flinched and showed no sign of damage. Its scales glowed red and orange from the heat, but it was unaffected by it.


    Undeterred by their failure, the Captain ordered the cannons to be readjusted.


    ¡°Aim for the eyes!¡± She shouted, pointing at the many orbs lining the creature¡¯s head. If there was a soft point for them to strike, it would be there.


    A deafening roar of cannon fire rang out for a second time, this time joined by the bellow of the monster as it was hit in the eyes and head. Irritated, it flinched slightly and reared up, exposing the soft and tender flesh of its mouth to Mathew¡¯s sight.


    Gathering his mana and focusing all of his attention to a single point, he shouted.


    ¡°Combust!¡±


    He had never given so much of himself to the Celestial Magic before. The Word of Power unleashed a cataclysmic surge of energy, a searing, blinding inferno that roared from the point of impact. The explosion was monstrous, erupting violently as it struck the monster¡¯s gaping maw.


    The beast¡¯s eyes widened in horror as the firestorm engulfed its head. The force of the blast ripped through its scales and flesh with unrelenting ferocity. Its approach to the ship was abruptly cut off and it plummeted into the void below.


    But Mathew didn¡¯t come out of the exchange unharmed.


    The backlash of his own magic hit him with equal fury. He was thrown violently backward, his body battered by the shockwave. His vision blurred, and he gasped for breath. The strain of the Celestial Magic leaving his throat left him maimed and disoriented.


    The deck beneath his feet seemed to heave and rush up to meet him as he fell to the ground, far away from where he had been standing. Pain seared through him like a thousand hot needles, and his limbs felt as though they were made out of lead.


    The magical energy he had summoned left him drained nearly to the point of collapse, and his body shook uncontrollably. The sheer magnitude of his own spell left him on the brink of unconsciousness, every breath a struggle as his strength waned rapidly.


    Mathew lay on the deck with his vision darkening and the sound around him muffled and distant. His last conscious thought was the recognition of a familiar noise.


    ¡®Ding.¡¯

 Chapter 211 – Floor 34: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 211</u> ¨C Floor 34: Part 1


    Floor 34: The Dark Sovereign


    In the realm of Alaris, society is starkly divided between two classes, each inhabiting a section of the continent. The Kelestrians, an elite caste of humans, wield formidable magic drawn from ancient traditions and arcane knowledge.


    Their magic has the power to change the world around them to their will by using language, runes and techniques passed down through generations. It is unique to them and is unable to be taught outside of their bloodline.


    They harness this magic through rigorous study, allowing their people to live extravagantly and without hardship. Their bloodline has made them long-lived, celebrated for their ethereal beauty. They reside in majestic cities of unparalleled exquisiteness, where their magical prowess allows them to manipulate elements, bend reality and indulge in luxury.


    In stark contrast, the Harboured are condemned to a life of squalor, their faces branded with enchanted tattoos that symbolize their sin of being born. Unlike the Kelestrians, the Harboured¡¯s magic is suppressed and rendered powerless for personal use. It only manifests in the creation of artifacts.


    These artifacts, forged by the Harboured, once held significant value and magical properties for the Kelestrians, until their own civilization moved beyond the need for the Harboured labour. They were cast aside to a small section of desolate land to eek out an existence, the valuable materials needed for their artifacts denied to them by strict embargos.


    The disparity between the glittering world of the Kelestrians and the artifact-driven, harsh existence of the Harboured underscores the deep-seated inequalities of Alaris.


    Considered evil, sinful and corrupt, the Harboured will never be able to rise without a leader. You have been chosen to be their Monarch.


    A Dark Sovereign.


    Reward: The first verse of a Celestial Magical Spell.


    Making use of the Celestial Language as a base, The Celestials used their language to create magic that would change the fabric of the universe.


    The Words of Power are only the first step on the path of a Speaker. They were never meant to be used separately.


    Even the gods feared the Celestials when they spoke.


    In the heart of a rugged stone cave, where the walls are stark and bare, shadows dance from the light of a single, flickering torch made of petrified wood and scrub grass. This is the workshop of Hilo, an experienced Artisan of the Harboured.


    Hilo¡¯s weathered hands, gnarled and calloused from decades of toil, deftly manipulated simple items:


    A shard of polished obsidian collected from the foot of Ashen Peak, the only mountain in the flat land inhabited by the Harboured. It spewed volcanic ash and magma periodically, with the valuable obsidian dug from the ground for use in their relics.


    A twisted length of withered vine from a hardy plant that grew in the crevices where scants amount of morning dew would gather.


    And finally, a small, rainbow coloured pebbled worn smooth by an ocean that had retreated ages, leaving only a few remnants behind as evidence of its passing. It still contained a trace of the sea inside it, enough for an Artisan to use.


    Hilo¡¯s face was etched with deep lines, each a testament to the trails he had faced in this harsh world. His long, grey hair fell around his shoulders in a matted and tangled mess. His emerald-green eyes, clouded by hardship and age, still held a glimmer of determination as he doggedly placed the items on a stone table.


    His ragged clothing barely gave him protection from the cold that permeated the cave; the garments hung loosely from his frail frame. There was never enough food for the Harboured to keep them healthy, never enough cloth for everyone to be dressed for the elements.


    Only the hard work of the Artisans kept their people alive. They scrounge for materials wherever they could, digging through the hard earth for stones or fighting with animals for scraps in order to have enough to make a Relic.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Even then, the chance of failure while constructing them was high. One in ten failed. Hilo was more skilled than most; he succeeded on every fifth attempt.


    Weaving the vine around the small chunk of obsidian, Hilo murmured words to the ancient incantation that had been passed down through the generations. The pebble began to glow a faint blue, and he could hear the sound of dripping water from the stone.


    Symbols appeared in the air around him, faint runes that channelled magic into the items before him. He kept his thoughts clear, his focus on imbuing the objects with his desired enchantment. There was a final flash of light that settled onto the obsidian piece and its vine wrapping.


    The rainbow pebble crumbled to ash as it was consumed by the ritual.


    Hilo let out the breath he had been holding as he saw that he had been successful. The enchantment held, its power contained within the small objects resting on his table. He was exhausted, but there was still one final step.


    Standing from the small stool he had crafted from stone and scraps, Hilo shuffled his way across the cave to a shelf that contained several vases and pots. His body ached as he reached up and grabbed a clay pot from the very top of the shelf.


    Studying it for a moment, he blew on the container to remove the layer of dust that had gathered inside before walking back to his table and setting it on top. Picking up the piece of obsidian, he dropped it into the clay pot. It hit the bottom with a small sound.


    He could feel the air change as the enchantment began its work, drawing in moisture from its surroundings and depositing it into the pot. Hilo saw condensation already gathering on the surface of the obsidian, small drops that slid down its sides.


    Picking up the pot, he carried it outside of his cave residence, where someone would be waiting to collect it. Stepping outside into the harsh light of the sun, he blinked his eyes and waited for them to adjust to the sudden brightness.


    Before him stretched a barren land, a vast expanse of cracked earth that seemed to shimmer in the heat, it was a world devoid of life, where the ground lay hardened and desolate, with fissures spidering across its surface like the scars of an ancient battlefield.


    Dust stirred at Hilo¡¯s feet, swirling in small eddies, but the landscape was otherwise still. No one would be outside at this time of day unless needed; the heat would be unbearable while the caves beneath the ground could be freezing.


    The land of the Harboured was a strange place of contradictions. Boiling hot during the day, freezing at night. Their people had all the freedom to do whatever they wanted within the confines of this prison. Hilo let out a sigh as despair gripped him.


    In the distance, The Ashen Peak rose majestically, a solitary giant piercing the sky. Its slopes were steep and jagged, draped in shades of grey that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. Wisps of cloud hung around its summit, not nearly enough to send rain to this deserted land.


    Hilo felt an inexplicable pull toward it as if the mountain were calling him closer. All the Harboured felt the mountain was a source of protection for the cursed. When the Kelestrians cast them out, the Harboured had fled to the east following the call.


    The Kelestrians were more than happy to allow these wretched people to inhabited the blighted lands around it. They sealed off the passes, blocked all access for trade or travel and let the Harboured rot within.


    All for the sin of having a different kind of magic. One that was physical rather than spiritual.


    Hilo shook off his melancholy thoughts when he saw the person who was waiting for the pot. The exchange went swiftly, with the older woman handing over a bundle of food and other supplies in exchange.


    Making his way up the path back to his cave, Hilo licked his dry and chapped lips. The absence of water was palpable, the air so arid that the wind blowing on his skin offered no comfort or relief. With a last look at the Ashen Peak in the distance, Hilo was about to return to the coolness of his cave when the ground began to shake.


    The earth trembled, and a low rumble echoed through the barren landscape. Hilo staggered and instinctively tried to reach the cave¡¯s entrance. The land convulsed violently, cracks widened, and fissures split the surface as if the very land were coming alive.


    The Ashen Peak erupted with a deafening roar. A plume of ash and smoke shot skyward, darkening the sun and casting eerie shadows over the desolate terrain. The mountain¡¯s jagged slopes cracked open, revealing glowing veins of molten rock that bubbled and churned.


    The sound was overwhelming, a cacophony of rumbling and roaring that drowned out all thought. As Hilo watched, mesmerized and terrified, fiery fragments cascaded down the mountain like shooting stars, igniting the dry earth around Ashen Peak. The air thickened with ask, swirling in dark clouds that choked the sky and blocked the sun.


    Panic surged through Hilo, and he stumbled backward, desperate to escape the chaos. The ground continued to shake, each tremor sending shockwaves through his bones as if the mountain were shaking off centuries of silence.


    Before he could reach the cave, a blinding white light shot up from the top of the mountain and struck the clouds. They swirled around the pillar of light like a vortex. The shaking stopped, and the mountain calmed in an instant.


    Relieved and confused, Hilo fell to the ground and looked up into the sky. All around him, other Harboured emerged to stare at the mountain with him. An oppressive force descended, pushing down on their bodies and driving those who remained on their feet to their knees.


    Burning words appeared in the sky above the mountain, as bright as the sun.


    A Harboured Sovereign has arrived to right the wrongs of the past.


    Hilo wept as he read those words, the precious moisture wasted as it slid down his dry and ash-caked cheeks.


    It was their time. His people would finally be free.

 Chapter 212 – Floor 34: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 212</u> ¨C Floor 34: Part 2


    Goal: Establish a Kingdom for the Harboured and rule over it as their Sovereign. Note: This will be a Multi-Floor objective, prepare accordingly. You will be given 10,000 Units of Aether and a suit of armour to wear throughout the entirety of this Multi-Floor mission.


    Mathew lowered his arm and let out a sigh. 10,000 units were nothing, but it was currently his entire net worth. He hadn¡¯t received much Aether since he had become an Apostle to Unyielding Declaration. If he had to guess the reason, it obviously had something to do with the god.


    Was Unyielding Declaration stealing his Aether for its own purpose?


    Unfortunately, Mathew didn¡¯t have an answer to that question and was left with no choice but to put it out of his mind. Thankfully, something happened to help him.


    Mathew was engulfed in a white light and when it faded, he found that his clothing was gone and a new magical suit of armour replaced it.


    The suit of armour was an imposing creation. It was crafted from dark, shimmering metal that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Its design was both ornate and menacing, with sharp angles and intricate patters that mimicked the twisting shapes of some sort of runes and gylphs.


    Mathew walked to the wall of the elevator and took a look at himself in the shiny, metallic surface. The helmet of the armour was particularly striking, featuring a crest that rose high from the center. There were spikes along the edge of the element that reminded Mathew of a crown.


    The visor, when lowered, was shaped like a malevolent grin and crafted with narrow slits that glowed with a crimson hue, giving Mathew a devilish look that suggested an otherworldly intelligence lurked within.


    The back of the armour had a long cloak that billowed out from his body like a living shadow. Even in the still space of the elevator, it flowed and shifted as if it had a mind of its own. He watched it ripple and undulate, creating the illusion that darkness itself was wrapped around him.


    To his surprise, the Wrathful Blade was sheathed at his hip. The sword weighed practically nothing and Mathew suspected there was an enchantment at work here to allow him to wield it. The flat point of the weapon rested in a sheathe as dark as his armour, matching it perfectly.


    ¡°I guess I¡¯m going to be playing the villain again. At least I have some experience.¡± Mathew muttered as the elevator slowly came to a halt and the door opened.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Hilo hiked up the steep, stony slopes of the Ashen Peak, each step a battle against the burning wind that howled like a wounded beast. Even now, the mountain spewed ash and smoke into the air. The ground had stopped shaking, but the effects of the devastation of the eruption were still evident.


    Fire consuming some of the scant patches of grass, and magma cooled along the side of the mountain. It made the climb difficult, but they had no choice but to make the trek.


    Hilo was joined by thousands of others, their bodies making a long line up the slope of the mountain toward the peak where the blinding light pulsated, calling to them. Their saviour was up there now, waiting for them to make the climb.


    The mountain loomed above him, its surface spotted with dark, charred rock and patches of ashen grey. All were remnants of previous eruptions that had forever altered the landscape. The air was thick with the stink of sulphur and the ragged cloth he held against he nose and mouth did very little to mask the smell.


    The ground beneath Hilo¡¯s rag-wrapped feet crumbled to dust as if the mountain itself was reluctant to bear his weight. He could feel the sharp rocks beneath, but his soles had long been hardened by his lack of shoes so they didn¡¯t hurt him at all.


    As he ascended, Hilo¡¯s heart raced. It wasn¡¯t just from the physical exertion but from the haunting allure of the pillar of light that had drawn them all to this place. It pulsed like a heartbeat against the dull backdrop of the mountain.


    The Harboured took it as a beacon of hope, a sign that their deliverance was at hand. The light danced at the edge of his vision, flickering and shifting as it teased him to moved onwards through the desolate land and up the mountain.


    Hilo was a figure of determination; his weathered face was set with grim resolve. His grey hair whipped wildly in the hot wind. His tattered clothing flapped against his thin body, and his back bent with the struggle of climbing. But he pressed forward, each breath burning in his lungs.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Rugged cliffs jutted out like teeth from the sides of the mountain, casting long shadows that seemed to reach for him. As he climbed higher, the ground grew more unstable. The heat increased, an odd thing as the peak of the mountain was said to be incredibly cold.


    Perhaps it was caused by the light above him that burned brightly, illumining the path ahead with an ethereal glow. Or maybe it was the rivers of magma that had cooled enough that their fire was dim, leaving long, black streaks against the ash.


    Every so often, Hilo would pause to catch his breath. At these times, he would look at the swirling clouds above where the smoke and soot had formed a vortex around the pillar of light. It seemed to be waiting for Hilo and the others to reach the peak; the arrival of whatever being sent to deliver them was delayed until they completed their trek.


    Hilo finally reached the summit of the Ashen Peak, breathless and awestruck as he stood on the rim of a vast crater. The air here was thick and stifling, pressing down on him like an unseen weight.


    Before him lay a sprawling expanse of molten rock, a chaotic dance of magma and lava swirling within the depths of the crater. The vibrant reds and oranges throbbed ominously, casting a flickering glow that illuminated the blackened rim of the crater around him.


    In the center of this tumultuous sea of fire stood a platform made of polished obsidian, its surface glimmering like a dark mirror. The light Hilo and the others had been seeking erupted from this platform, a pillar of blinding radiance that shot upwards, piercing the heavy clouds above.


    It twisted and spiralled, sending shimmering sparks into the air, creating a glow of brilliance that contrasted sharply with the grim surroundings.


    The silence enveloped him, a profound stillness that felt almost sacred. It was as if the world had paused to witness the spectacle before him. Hilo could feel his heartbeat in his ears, timed to resonate with the oppressive energy that thrummed through the air.


    Everyone and everything in the world felt like they were holding their breath for this moment.


    Hilo stepped closer to the rim of the crater; the heat radiation from below washed over him. His skin felt dry, and he tasted blood from his chapped lips. But he couldn¡¯t look away; he was unwilling to miss even a second of what was happening.


    Others gathered close around him; tens of thousands of the Harboured had made the ascent. An entire population, all that remained of a people, was here to meet their saviour.


    Hilo could have cried from the sheer joy of it, but there was no water to spare for tears. Instead, he clasped his hands together and stared at the platform and its hovering light without blinking.


    Suddenly, the pillar of light erupted with a thunderous boom. A blinding flash enveloped the crater. Hilo staggered backwards and shielded his eyes as the brilliance seared through the dim glow of the fires below.


    There was an explosion of sound that reverberated throughout the crater, sending shockwaves that rattled the ground beneath his feet. The pillar of light expanded, and the clouds above were driven away to reveal the night sky.


    Gradually, the light began to fade, and Hilo lowered his arm from his face to see better. Blinking his eyes rapidly to clear them of dust, he saw a figure emerge from the radiant core of the pillar of light. Contrasted by the white light, the figure was difficult to make out, and Hilo squinted in an attempt to see them.


    The light blinked out, leaving the crater with its original red glow and Hilo could finally see the figure in detail.


    They were clad in dark armour, tall and imposing. The armour was designed with sharp angles and harsh lines, creating and aura of both elegance and menace. A black cloak billowed behind the figure, stretching far into the distance and swirling around as if it were alive.


    In the figure¡¯s hands was a massive sword, strikingly unique in its design. The blade was broad and flat, reminiscent of an executioner¡¯s tool. It lacked a point, yet it exuded a sense of lethal purpose. Its surface was rusty and old as if it had been left out in the elements for ages.


    It seemed odd that the blade would be uncared for since the figure¡¯s armour was spotless, but it seemed to fit somehow.


    Hilo felt a chill run down his spine as he beheld this dark figure, an embodiment of dread stepping forth from the heart of the light. The air crackled with tension, and an oppressive silence fell over the crater once more.


    The figure calmly surveyed those gathered, the black visor of his helmet reflecting the light of the fires around them. It blocked the figure¡¯s face, leaving Hilo and the Harboured to wonder who, or what, this figure was.


    Had a demon been sent to the Harboured to devour them for their sins?


    After a long moment of silence where the armoured figure looked at the Harboured and the crater around them, it stepped forward and spoke. Its voice boomed out, and Hilo clapped his hands over his ears and the sudden noise.


    ¡°I am The Enduring, Apostle to the god of Unyielding Declaration. I have been sent to protect and shelter you. To construct a kingdom in this place for you to live in where I will be your Sovereign. I know of your struggles against the Kelestrians, and I sympathize with your plight.¡± The man said, and his words were so stirring that Hilo lowered his hands from his ears to listen.


    Hilo forgot his discomfort. He forgot the heat and the fact that he was thirsty. He forgot his hunger and his pain. For the first time in his life, Hilow felt hope. The armoured man stepped to the edge of the platform and raised the large, flat-ended sword high into the air.


    ¡°I promise all of you this: If you serve me faithfully, you will be provided with everything that has been denied to you. We will forge a kingdom that will last through the ages, and no one, not even the Kelestrians or the gods themselves, will be able to take it from you!¡±


    The Enduring finished his speech, the words echoing across the rim of the crater. But the silence didn¡¯t return. Hilo and tens of thousands of Harboured were yelling. It was a wordless shout of joy, of pent-up anger and despair that had finally found an outlet.


    It was a shout of hope.

 Chapter 213 – Floor 34: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 213</u> ¨C Floor 34: Part 3


    Hilo entered the cave, which was tucked away at the desolate, wind-swept base of Ashen Peak. It was late, the night only lit by the bright moon in the sky. It gave everything a washed-out look and made the shadows stretch across the ground.


    The entrance was a sharp opening surrounding by crumbling rock. It seemed menacing from outside in the darkness, but there were very places to shelter in the land of the Harboured. This wasn¡¯t a spot for comforts or ease, everything was built out of necessity with the few materials they had at hand.


    Inside the cave, the air was cool and dry, carrying the scent of stone and dust. The walls were rought and uneven, marked by the passage of the wind and the labour of hands that scraped and shaped the cave where nature hadn¡¯t.


    Flickering torches cast eerie shadows, illuminating the sparse furnishings ¨C a few battered chairs and a makeshift table made from salvaged materials decades ago. Every item here told a story of survival, or time and hardship.


    Hilo made his way deeper into the cave home, his feet making loud noises as he shuffled his way across the rough floor. Coming through the entrance and into the main area of the cave, he saw an armoured figure sitting perched on a rough-hewn rock that was converted into a chair.


    The Enduring¡¯s armour was unblemished by dust or dirt, and dark enough that Hilo could only make out his figure by his outline against the wall. Their new Sovereign¡¯s posture was relaxed, the large, flat-tipped sword was placed casually across his lap.


    The figure face was still obscured by the helmet, and only the eyes could bee seen inside. They glowed red in the darkness, staring at Hilo as he approached.


    ¡°My lord.¡± Hilo said as he slowly knelt on his knees. They ached as they touched the stone and he could immediately feel them tense. It would be hard for him to stand again after this effort, but he would never dream of showing disrespect to their Lord.


    ¡°Hilo. This cave is disgusting.¡± The Enduring stated, his eyes burning a hole into Hilo¡¯s head as the latter lowered his face toward the ground.


    ¡°Apologies, my Lord. This is the best we have to offer.¡± Hilo replied, concern evident in his tone as he waited to be punished. He was old enough to recall how the Kelestrians treated the Harboured for their failures, and he had no doubt their lord would be the same.


    To his surprise, the armoured figure let out a sigh and stood. He leaned the large sword against the wall of the cave and began to pace the room slowly. The Enduring would pause occasionally and look at the few items in the room with a critical eye.


    ¡°You all live like this?¡± The Enduring asked, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to rise up from the underworld itself. His footstep rang loudly through the cave.


    ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± Hilo stated, his voice quiet and filled with shame. The Enduring stopped at the plate of food and pitcher of water that represented an entire family''s rations for the day. Some edible roots and a few mushrooms grown in one of their caves, along with some stripes of jerky from an animal a hunter had been lucky enough to kill after it wandered into their lands.


    The Enduring picked up one of the pieces of meat and casually picked off some mould that had grown on it before tossing the jerky back onto the plate.


    ¡°How many Harboured live in these lands?¡± The Enduring asked as he turned away from the feast they had prepared and sat back down on his stone seat.


    ¡°Over ten thousand.¡± Hilo replied as the Enduring moved. He nodded his helmeted head before speaking again.


    ¡°Stand, and sit there.¡± The Enduring commanded, pointing at the decrepit chair across from him that was amongst the best the Harboured had to offer but was on the point of collapse. Gratefully, Hilo stood and stumbled as his muscles refused to obey.


    Hilo was tired, his body on the point of collapse after walking up and down the mountain today and kneeling on the cold stone floor. He fell to the ground with a gasp. Hilo rubbed his leg and lower back in an attempt to loosen the muscles, all the while wincing at the expected blow from their Sovereign.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    To his surprise, The Enduring raised his hand and gestured toward Hilo.


    ¡°Heal¡± The Enduring spoke, and a gentle light descended from above to engulf Hilo. The aches and pains for the day¡¯s labours were vanquished, his muscles relaxed, and he felt renewed.


    Quickly standing, Hilo immediately bowed and began to thank their lord, who waved off his thanks and pointed to the chair once more. Hilo was about to refuse; how could he think of sitting with such a being?! But The Enduring was insistent.


    Slowly, Hilo sank into the chair, which creaked alarmingly as his weight settled into it. Nodding, the Enduring continued.


    ¡°Tell me about your magic, Hilo. How is it different from the Kelestrians?¡± The Enduring asked. Hilo leaned forward with excitement, eager to tell his lord of his art.


    ¡°Our magic comes from the objects we work with. Through our words, our hands and the rituals we use, we can bring out the magic inside any object. Everything in the world has a ¡®memory¡¯ inside it, and the Harboured can bring that ¡®memory¡¯ into reality.¡± Hilo frowned, not sure if his explanation made sense to an outsider.


    When he was a boy, his grandfather had taught him to be an Artisan, to work with objects to bring out the memories within to create magical items. The explanation hadn¡¯t made sense to him at the time, not until he learned to work the rituals himself.


    It seemed so obvious afterwards. Everything had a memory inside of it. A rock that recalled the ocean, a piece of obsidian that remembered the fiery eruption that birthed it.


    ¡°This ¡®magic¡¯ requires physical object to work with? Will anything do?¡± The Enduring inquired with curiosity, and Hilo snapped out of his memories of his youth in the blink of an eye. He nodded quickly.


    ¡°Everything has a memory inside it, but the strength and type is determined by the material. Higher quality, more rare materials have stronger memories.¡± Hilo explained before frowning.


    ¡°It¡¯s why we are in such a decrepit state. The Kelestrians have blocked our access to materials. We can¡¯t work our best magics without them.¡± Hilo muttered bitterly. He recalled how his grandfather would discuss the Harboured¡¯s greatest creations.


    Works of art and magic that rivalled anything the Kelestrians could accomplish.


    The Enduring, noticing Hilo¡¯s state of mind, shifted the subject slightly.


    ¡°What about the Kelestrian magic? It differs from your own?¡± The Enduring probed, and Hilo nodded.


    ¡°Their magic is based on the spiritual rather than the physical. We bring out the memory of an object, while the Kelestrians ¡®impose¡¯ their will on the world instead. It is why they enslaved us, to have us build their cities and artifacts until their magic evolved enough to render artifacts obsolete.¡± Hilo explained.


    The Enduring was quiet for a moment before responding.


    ¡°The weakness of Harboured magic is the requirement for physical materials. What about the Kelestrians?¡± The Enduring mused softly, his gauntleted finger tapping his leg idly as he thought. Hilo didn¡¯t have an answer to that question and chose to stay silent.


    ¡°No matter, we¡¯ll figure that all out later. For now, I¡¯ve been brought here to forge a kingdom for the Harboured. Tell me what you need, Hilo. How can I help the Harboured?¡± The Enduring asked, and Hilo¡¯s breath caught in his throat as tears threatened to leak from his eyes.


    He could scarcely believe that someone wanted to help them! It had been so long since someone cared. He drew in a shuddering breath before speaking.


    ¡°We need food, My Lord. Clean water. Our sick need medicine, and our children require clothing.¡± Hilo begged, clasping his hands together as he spoke.


    Once again, The Enduring, Apostle of the god of Unyielding Declaration, was silent. After a few moments of thinking, their lord stood. Leaving his sword behind, he began to walk to the entrance of the cave.


    ¡°Follow me, Hilo.¡± His voice rumbled, and Hilo immediately stood up and rushed to his side.


    The armoured figure stood outside under the night sky, lit by the moon hovering overhead. Oddly, he was raising his left arm and making swiping motions with his right hand as if he were flipping through the pages of a book.


    The Enduring was muttering while he did so.


    ¡°I have a lot of things gathered from the previous Floors. I¡¯ll need to spend some of the Aether I¡¯ve been given, but¡­¡± His voice trailed off as he lowered his arm and made an odd ¡®pulling¡¯ motion with his right hand as if he were reaching for an object.


    Hilo watched as objects appeared from nowhere. There were wooden crates marked ¡®Provisions,¡¯ baskets of bread, apples and other fruits. There were barrels of water, wine, ale and other drinks. There were containers of meats, spices, vegetables and all other sorts of food that Hilo had never seen or heard of before.


    Stacks of clothing in various styles and sizes were gathered next to the food, tools and other equipment for construction. There were piles of wood planks, stone blocks, iron ingots, steel blades and axes. First dozens, then hundreds, followed by thousands of objects soon accumulated in front of the cave entrance.


    There were medicines and medical supplies, gemstones and jewelry, glittering gold and shining silver. Treasures that made Hilo¡¯s eyes widen and were enough to purchase a kingdom in a normal land. There were books and ledgers, rolls of carpet and rugs, vases and clay jugs.


    When he finished, not only Hilo but thousands of other Harboured had come to stare at the wealth their Lord had given them. The Enduring gestured to everything around them as he turned back to Hilo.


    ¡°Use everything here to build your kingdom, Hilo. Once everyone is fed, watered and clothed, I want you to begin constructing a city. Your people will not be living in squalor anymore.¡±


    Ten years later, Hilo completed the task given to them by their Sovereign. The Enduring looked out from his palace at the kingdom of the Harboured and heard the long-awaited sound that marked his success.


    ¡®Ding.¡¯

 Chapter 214 – Floor 35: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 214</u> ¨C Floor 35: Part 1


    Congratulations, you have successfully created a kingdom for the Harboured. You have been rewarded with the first verse of a Celestial Spell.


    Celestial Spell: A Starless Night.


    As the Speaker invokes this incantation, the air thickens with an otherworldly chill, and an oppressive silence envelops the surroundings. The last glimmers of light flicker and fade, leaving only the sounds of distant whispers and the beating hearts of the terrified.


    Floor 35 ¨C The Wrongs of the Past.


    The Kelestrians will become aware of a new power rising amongst the Harboured. They will not want to see their former slaves regain any remnants of their civilization. They will seek to stop you. Defend the Harboured from the Kelestrians.


    Reward: The second verse of the Celestial Spell.


    In the heart of a desolate land, where the earth cracked beneath a relentless sun, and the horizon was dominated by a mountain called the Ashen Peak, lay the city of Haven. A kingdom that defied the barrenness surrounding it.


    Its cobblestone streets wound like tendrils through a patchwork of vibrant life, an oasis sustained by the efforts of magic. The roads were lined with plant life and trees that came from unknown origins. It was said that their Sovereign had given the seeds to the Harboured to grow, having pulled them into existence with his supreme magic.


    At the center of Haven loomed the Citadel of Artistry; its tall spires reached skyward like fingers grasping for the heavens. Crafted from dark stone, the fortress was adorned with intricate glyphs that shimmered softly in the light, each rune a testament to the ancient magic of the Harboured that pulsed through the city.


    This wasn¡¯t just a place for the city¡¯s Artisans to gather, train and create their magical Artifacts; the structure was also a part of Haven¡¯s enchantments. It was a focal point for many of the magics being worked throughout the town.


    A shimmering river, born of magic itself, sliced through the city. Its waters sparkled with an ethereal glow and the Artisans made sure that there were many parks and gathering places to watch the river flow. It was sourced from a gigantic chunk of blue crystal that poured water down from its surface.


    The river meandered past the market square, where food, clothing and other goods were being sold. The stalls were full of objects, and the atmosphere was alive and vibrant. No one in Haven went hungry, and even the poorest citizens were cared for.


    The air throughout the city was thick with the smell of spices and the sweet perfume of flowers, blooming defiantly in a land of desolation. Each blossom was a miracle, nurtured by the enchantments that coaxed life from the harsh earth.


    Surrounding the market and the citadel were buildings constructed of sturdy stone and timber. Each had protective runes carved into their exteriors that glowed faintly even in the brightness of day. These glyphs were part of the enchantments of Haven, strengthening the materials, keeping out the heat of day and the cold of night, and providing light for the residents.


    Each night, these runes cast a warm, inviting light throughout the city, creating a mosaic of soft colours that danced along the streets, practically guiding the inhabitants home. A bridge arched gracefully over the enchanted river, a marvel of craftmanship that would have been unthinkable to construct a decade ago.


    The residents could feel the surge of magic beneath their feet as they crossed the bridge from the river below.


    Haven existed in the shadow of Ashen Peak, and the mountain had changed over the past decade. There was now a path carved into the side of the mountain, steps that led to the summit. The Artisans had even installed rest areas along the length, places to stop for food and water before carrying on.


    Why anyone would want to climb the mountain was easy to understand. At the summit of Ashen Peak was a simple yet imposing temple. Hewn from smooth obsidian mined from the mountain itself, its shiny exterior reflected the sun, allowing the residents of Haven to see its glory from down below.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The temple¡¯s entrance was framed by two towering pillars of the same material as its exterior, and they led to a chamber that was both simple and terrifying. Inside, the chamber was lit by the red glow of magma funnelled through trenches reinforced with magic.


    There was only a single source of sunlit, a slit in the temple¡¯s exterior that allowed the sun to touch the imposing throne at the end of the chamber.


    It was under this light, at the heart of this sanctuary, that the Dark Sovereign sat. The atmosphere within the temple was heavy, and outsiders would think that this was the dwelling place of a demon or monster. But, to the Harboured, this was the home of their saviour.


    Mathew, The Enduring, Apostle of the god of Unyielding Declaration, sat on a throne made of obsidian and let out a sigh as he read the message. He was alone, without the eyes of the Harboured upon him and he could relax for the moment.


    He was contemplating the information that had just been delivered to him by the silver wristband. The Celestial Incantation, while incomplete, was more powerful than anything he had ever received as a Floor award.


    Unfortunately, he wasn¡¯t in a situation to test it out. If he was correct, it had the capability of destroying the Temple around him and the entire city below. Putting the Spell out of his mind for the moment, he thought about the rest of the message.


    If it were true, then the Kelestrians will become aware of his actions shortly. Mathew wasn¡¯t sure how powerful they were, but he didn¡¯t want to face them unprepared. The Harboured knew this day would come and had taken steps to protect their city.


    Mathew stood from his throne and walked down the long chamber toward the entrance of his Temple and Palace. He hadn¡¯t argued with the Harboured when they said they wanted to build it. He had a role to play here, just like them.


    He had been ordered to be their Sovereign and it was easier to just go along with it than fight every decision. They wanted a Temple, so they built it; Mathew just provided a lot of the initial tools and materials.


    He had spent the 10,000 Aether years ago, and his inventory was nearly empty now. But the Harboured had everything they needed for their magic, and their skills had improved along with it. Their failure rate, which had been 1 in 10, was much closer to ten to twenty percent.


    Mathew exited the Temple and looked out at the sweeping view from the Ashen Peak. He breathed in the warm air and once again marvelled at what the Harboured had accomplished in such a short time. It was hard to believe that they had been living in caves and eating scraps a decade before.


    What would this place be like in another decade? Or a century?


    After taking in the view for a moment, Mathew focused on the citadel at the center of the city. Concentrating on a specific spot, a balcony at the top that had been assigned to him, he whispered the Word of Power.


    ¡°Shift.¡±


    Mathew disappeared in an instant, and a small, wooden cup fell to the ground where he had been. Reappearing in his room, he walked swiftly to the door and out into the hallway. These corridors were spacious and filled with art in various styles common to the Harboured.


    Paintings made with muted colours, sculptures made from stone carried from the Ashen Peak, and tapestries weaved from the grasses found in this desolate land. The walls seemed to vibrate with energy, the very physical essence of the Harboured magic.


    They had told Mathew that they had only brought out the ¡®memories¡¯ that resided in the objects they found, but Mathew thought they had injected life into them instead.


    He passed the offices and quarters of the Artisans on the lower levels, then the workshops and storage areas, before he finally reached his destination. No one bothered him on the way, although his presence always brought work to a halt as they bowed respectfully before carrying on.


    The Harboured had grown more used to him over the years. Even his dark armour didn¡¯t fill anyone with terror as it once did. They just took it as a quirk of their Sovereign.


    Mathew entered a grand hall with soaring, vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes that shimmered with magic. The walls were crafted from warm, polished stone, and sunlight streamed in through stained glass windows forged into this very citadel.


    Here, the sound of the workshops above was dulled by the thick stone and creative design, leaving it nearly silent. In this hall was a gathering of the top Artisans who were gathered around in groups, discussing their craft or meeting with visitors from amongst the population.


    Mathew found the person he was looking for.


    Hilo seemed to have grown younger in the last decade rather than older. Perhaps it was because of the weight he had put on from being able to eat his fill or the fine clothing that provided a warmth that the Harboured had been denied for years, but Hilo had a bounce to his step and a smile on his weathered face that never dimmed.


    Mathew took a moment to study the elaborate tattoo that covered the old man¡¯s face. Black would shift in colour slightly as the light hit it as if it had a metallic sheen on its surface. The Harboured were born with them, a trait from their bloodline.


    Hilo¡¯s tattoo was elaborate, filled with lines and swirls that extended across half his face.


    Apparently, the tattoos grew as the Harboured aged or if they practiced their magic. Mathew had seen it for himself. The children would bear only small lines or a single shape on their faces, while the Artisans here all had intricate tattoos.


    The conversation stopped as Mathew approached them. The Artisans, several hundred of them, bowed as he did so. Waving them off, he walked to Hilo.


    ¡°Hilo, the Kelestrians will soon be aware of us. I intend to keep them away from Haven for as long as possible. Are the preparations complete?¡± Mathew asked, and Hilo nodded.


    If it weren¡¯t for the helmet over Mathew¡¯s face, the Harboured here would have seen a wide grin appear on their sovereign¡¯s face.


    The Kelestrians weren¡¯t going to know what hit them.

 Chapter 215 – Floor 35: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 215</u> ¨C Floor 35: Part 2


    The city of Kelestria was nestled in the middle of a sunny valley beside a calm river, where white and fluffy clouds drifted lazily across a blue sky. Its streets shimmered with a dazzling, rainbow coloured glow, the stones were imbued with a radiance that seemed to dance beneath the feet of its inhabitants.


    The city¡¯s architecture was a artistic blend of impossibly tall spires, curved structures that bent at angle that defied gravity and vibrant colours that would never exist in nature. Each building had a whimsical nature to them, as if they were unique expressions of the builders desires.


    If an outsider were to visit, which they never did, they would describe Kelestria as a breath-takingly beautify city unlike any others in the world. The air thrummed with magic; the enchantments here had been built layer by layer for centuries.


    The Kelestrians themselves were as stunning as their city. Their features were flawless, their hair used magic to achieve a wide variety of styles and colours. It was common to see platinum blond, vivid red or pink, even blue heads of hair walking through the streets.


    The Kelestrians drifted through the city with an air of effortless grace, their movements slow and unhurried. It was as if time itself had surrendered to their charm and whims. With skin like polished marble, they wore clothing of the finest materials that clung to their frames with unmatched elegance.


    Life in Kelestria was leisurely, filled with laughter and music. Their days were spent studying or singing, and drinking and dancing were common in the streets. There was never a hurry to accomplish a task, never a rush to be somewhere at a certain time of day.


    They lived in a world were ambition was secondary to personal enjoyment, where magic could provide them a lifestyle without a care I the world. Their greatest aspiration was to experience the beauty of the moment rather than the demands of the future.


    Kelestria and its people were extraordinary, and very few recalled that their lives of ease had been built upon the backs of others until their magic and accomplishments removed the need for them. The Harboured had been an unsightly blemish on their city and their lives, a stain on the beautiful tapestry that their civilization had become.


    So, they tossed the Harboured aside as soon as they were able, removing them from their lives. They shoved them to the corner of their world to live in squalor and desolation, blocking the roads and preventing them from ever returning, and promptly cast thoughts of the Harboured from their minds and memories.


    It was through this paradise, on a spring day that was warm, bright and full of life, a young woman quickly walked through the streets towards the center of the city. Her actions drew attention, so few people in Kelestria rushed anywhere.


    It was clear that this young woman was in a hurry to reach the Lumina Arcanum that hovered above the city, connected to the ground by a teleportation circle in the center of the city.


    The Lumina Arcanum was the center of magical learning for Kelestria, a place where their greatest minds gathered to discuss magic, philosophy, politics and knowledge. It was a university, a library, a workshop, and a city hall, all wrapped together.


    The structure was suspended high above the city streets, a magnificent structure that embodied the city¡¯s commitment to knowledge and the preservation of magic. The Lumina Arcanum drifted gently on currents of shimmering air, its presence an awe-inspiring sight against the backdrop of blue skies.


    Crafted with a mind toward elegance rather than functionality, it featured sweeping arches and delicate spires that made it look as if it were constructed of spun glass. When the light hit it, the entire structure glowed with a golden light that radiated across the sky.


    The young woman was breathing heavily when she arrived at the teleportation circle, named the Nexus Gate. She, like most Kelestrians, were unused to intense physical activity and she let out a breath of relief when she saw the pillars of glass that surrounded the square where the magical artifact was located.


    The magical teleportation circle was an intricate design etched into the stone on a large square, where anyone could freely travel to the structure above. Its circular shape was about ten feet in diameter, adorned with thousands of runes and sigils that glowed softly.


    At the center was a radiant gemstone, a sapphire of considerable worth that acted as the focal point of the magical construct. It was a testament to how important the Kelestrians considered this place that such an item was left unguarded.


    No one in Kelestria would think of stealing or damaging it.


    This young woman was Lirael, and she had been summoned to the Lumina Arcanum in response to a Research Thesis Paper.


    Lirael was a striking figure with an elegant, willowy frame that exuded grace and beauty. Her long, silver hair cascaded down her back in soft, flowing waves. It caught the light in such a way that it made her practically glow in the sun.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Her skin was flawless and smooth, giving her an otherworldly appearance, with violet eyes that were large and expressive. Even out of breath and nervous, she was amongst the most beautiful women in Kelestria.


    She anxiously ran her hands along the sides of her white robes as she waited for the Nexus Gate to activate. She didn¡¯t understand why she had been suddenly called to the Lumina Arcanum in the middle of the day.


    Everything had been going so well for her!


    As a junior researcher, she had worked under the most intelligent inventors and enchanters in Kelestria. It was going so well because she had just submitted her thesis paper to her committee chair yesterday!


    She had so much faith that she would be promoted to a full Researcher based on her findings that she couldn¡¯t understand why her seniors wanted her to come to the Lumina Arcanum to discuss it in person. It¡¯s not like she had done anything truly groundbreaking; she had taken their advice and stuck to a more safe topic of research.


    ¡®Resonance and Enchantment: Exploring the Effects of Magical Harmonics on Kelestrian Spellcraft.¡¯


    It was a simple research project, only requiring her to take harmonic samples from around the city and several locations around it and measure them against past recordings. Her findings didn¡¯t even require much interpretation; there was a significant increase in Harmonic Resonance compared to a decade ago.


    She had triple checked her findings! Why would the Committee Chairs want to discuss it with her?


    Lirael tried to calm herself by taking deep breaths, but there was a panic inside her that wouldn¡¯t settle. Would she have to redo her Thesis? A year¡¯s worth of work undone? How would she explain it to her parents or her peers?


    She had thought that she had played it safe by choosing an easy topic. Several of her colleagues were looking to create new spells or enchantments, but Lirael felt the risk of failure was too great.


    Her thoughts were spinning in circles, and Lirael disappeared in a flash of light as the enchanted Nexus Gate brought her to the Lumina Arcanum. She ignored her peers and the beautiful sights from above as she rushed to the room assigned by the Committee for their discussion.


    She slowed down just as she came to the heavy, wooden door. Taking a last, calming breath, she tried to appear composed as she opened it and stepped inside.


    There were so many more people present than she had been expecting, and she brought up solid only a few feet from the door. There were dozens of professors and senior researchers, committee chairs and prominent members of the Arcanum who cut off their conversations and turned to look at her.


    Lirael let out a startled gasp and she almost took a step backwards out the door, thinking she had entered the wrong room, when her mentor and advisor stepped forward with a strained smile.


    Dominic Alvarado was the chair of the Enchantment Research Committee and a friend of Lirael¡¯s parents. It had been he who had gotten her the position in the Arcanum and had guided her in her career. An older man of nearly a hundred and eighty, he was beginning to show his age. His hair was turning white around the tips, and his tall figure showed a slight pudginess of inactivity.


    He shuffled forward and patted her on her shoulder.


    ¡°Ah, Lirael, my dear. Don¡¯t be alarmed; our colleagues have all been eager to see you and discuss your findings.¡± Dominic said, trying to calm her like one would a frightened child. He led her toward a chair while the others took their places.


    It was a classroom, with Lirael occupying the center seat, and everyone else had chairs and tables in a ring around her. If the atmosphere wasn¡¯t so tense and gloomy, she would have laughed at the thought of her acting like a professor and the Arcanum¡¯s elite being her students.


    After guiding her to her chair, Dominic stood next to her and nodded to his colleagues before speaking once again.


    ¡°Now, we have all read Lirael¡¯s research and her unique findings. I believe that it would be appropriate for her to give a brief overview before we ask any questions.¡± Dominic said, holding up his hands to forestall some of his more eager peers from talking.


    ¡°Lirael, I¡¯m sure you are confused by all of us taking an interest in your work. But please, this is serious. Would you discuss your Thesis and your research methodology?¡± Dominic said, stepping back from her side to give her space to talk.


    ¡°Um¡­ yes, sir. My Thesis is based on Arava Kedleston¡¯s theory of Harmonic Resonance in Enchantments. She theorized that, by studying the Harmonic Resonances emitted by enchantments, it was possible to identify them without observing the spellcraft involved.¡± Lirael stammered out; her eyes kept darting from Dominic to the assembled crowd and back again as she got through her explanation.


    ¡°Yes, and to prove this theory, Arava conducted extensive tests through Kelestria. You followed in her example?¡± Dominic asked, and Lirael nodded.


    ¡°Yes. Her theory was sound, even a century later. I used her findings as a baseline, along with samples taken throughout the city. By assessing their harmonics, I found that you can indeed estimate their function, along with age and the enchanter who created them.¡± Lirael said, a hint of pride in her voice.


    But the assembled crowd didn¡¯t seem impressed with her findings. It seemed like they were waiting for her to make a different point and were frustrated that she hadn¡¯t reached it yet.


    Clearing his throat, Dominic replied.


    ¡°There was an interesting fact in your research that we would like you to expand upon. While you were conducting your tests, you found something odd in the enchantments?¡± Dominic inquired, and it seemed to Lirael that the crowd held their breath in anticipation.


    ¡°Yes? I suppose? There was a change in the enchantments, an increase from their Resonance that began a decade ago. It was reflected in their Harmonics.¡± Lirael explained, confused as to why that mattered. It was only a small part of her paper, and she provided a theory.


    ¡°I thought there was some change in their structure, perhaps a new organization of sigils and runes that caused the shift.¡± Lirael said, looking to Dominic for the answer. His face was grave as he shook his head.


    ¡°Thank you, Lirael. Ladies and gentlemen, you have all seen the proof with your own eyes. She is blameless in this matter. I have recreated her experiments myself, and they are conclusive.¡± Dominic declared, and there was a stir amongst those assembled.


    Lirael¡¯s confusion was obvious, but Dominic ignored it as he continued.


    ¡°The results are clear. The Harmonic Resonance match the historical records perfectly. There is no doubt the Harboured have grown in strength enough that their magic is reacting to ours. We must send an expedition to the wasteland and put a stop to-¡±


    Dominic was interrupted by screams and shouts, followed by a warning siren from the city¡¯s defences. Before anyone could see what happened, the sun disappeared from the sky, and night descended.

 Chapter 216 – Floor 35: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 216</u> ¨C Floor 35: Part 3


    Mathew stood on the prow of the flying ship ¡®Stormrider¡¯ as it sailed across the continent toward the city of Kelestria.


    Mathew had given Hilo the idea after discussing his adventures on the previous Floors. The Artisan¡¯s imagination had immediately been captured by his Sovereign¡¯s tale of the ¡®Resplendent Dawn¡¯s¡¯ trek through the void.


    In the years that followed, in between their work on constructing a home from the Harboured, Hilo and the Artisans had built their own version of that flying ship. Powered by Harboured magic instead of a Sun Shard, it was naturally different but no less impressive.


    The Stormrider was a seamless fusion of rugged stone mined from the earth and gnarled wood from the hardy trees that grew in the desolation of the Harboured lands. It had the appearance of a floating fortress carved from the Ashen Peak itself.


    The ship¡¯s front was flat and carved with runes and sigils that the Harboured used to bring out the ¡®memories¡¯ of wind from the stone and trees. Thick wooden beams formed a skeletal structure like ribs across the hull that eventually spiralled upward to support the billowing sails.


    Stormrider was an imposing presence as it sailed through the skies, leaving a shimmering trail of ethereal light behind it. It lacked the grace and beauty of a Kelestrian construction; the Harboured preferred durability and function, while they disdained waste.


    But it was solid, giving the impression to anyone who saw it that the ship was built for war and even if the world broke around it, this vessel would survive. Even though it hadn¡¯t been intended for combat, Hilo had dreamed of exploring the world with Stormrider instead; Mathew had other ideas.


    The Kelestrians would never let the Harboured improve their lot in life. They would eventually learn about their new city and Sovereign and attempt to put a stop to it. Mathew¡¯s only choice was to strike first and ¡®convince¡¯ the Kelestrians that it would be futile to even try.


    ¡°My lord, we¡¯re approaching the border. We believe that even Stormrider will not be able to pierce the enchantments sealing us within the Wastelands.¡± Hilo explained, giving Mathew a small bow as he approached him.


    The Harboured lands were separated from Kelestria by a heavily mountainous area that are impassable with the exception of a few trails and old roads.


    When the Harboured had been banished to the Wastelands, as the Kelestrians called them, they built an enchanted barrier to surround their former slaves with sigils buried deep beneath the ground to power them.


    It had kept the Harboured imprisoned for over a century, and even their Artisans couldn¡¯t find a way to circumvent or destroy it.


    ¡°Halt the ship just outside the border.¡± Mathew ordered, his voice artificially deepened by the helm of his armour so that it came out as a rumble. Hilo nodded and informed the crew of their Sovereign¡¯s desires.


    The ship slowed down as it drifted high above a line of snow-capped mountains. A shimmering barrier of mana stretched across the space in front of them, curving slowly to form a gigantic bubble that sealed the Harboured in and prevented anyone from crossing.


    Mathew could feel the mana within the barrier, like a static discharge across his skin, even through the dark armour he wore. Strangely, the wind carried the smell of Aether, that slightly spicy smell that Mathew was so accustomed to.


    He didn¡¯t understand how, but the Kelestrians seemed to have made use of Aether in their enchantments. He could sense that this barrier was strong enough to block any attempt by the Stormrider to penetrate it, even with its Harboured enchantments.


    ¡°Let¡¯s test it out.¡± Mathew muttered. He slowly raised his hand and pointed his finger at the barrier directly in front of the ship.


    ¡°Break.¡± Mathew commanded, and the Word of Power responded. A foreign presence descended from above, and he could feel it settle on the barrier. There was a sharp ¡®crack¡¯ sound, and a small white line formed in the glowing shield before fading away.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    For Mathew, this was one of the first times the Words of Power had failed to achieve his desired goal. He watched the barrier heal while trying to find an opening to exploit, but nothing happened. The Harboured held their breath behind him, awed at the magic their Lord was working.


    They had only witnessed The Enduring¡¯s magic a handful of times, and no one, not even Hilo or the Artisans, understood how it worked. It seemed to them that if the Sovereign commanded something to happen, even the world had to obey.


    Mathew frowned, shook his head and raised his hand once again. Preparing himself and focusing his mind, he spoke.


    ¡°Combust!¡± Mathew shouted, his voice thundering across the deck of the flying ship. The descending force was more oppressive than before. This time, Hilo and the others were forced to their knees as the world shook around them.


    A blinding point of light erupted on the barrier where Mathew had pointed, illumining the skies like a falling star. For a heartbeat, it hovered in the air before swelling into a colossal fireball that dwarfed even the Stormrider in size.


    The air crackled with energy, then, with a deafening crack, the explosion roared to life. It sent shockwaves rippling through the clouds. The ship lurched violently to the side, crew members scrambled to steady themselves as the very air seemed to shudder.


    The once-calm skies were filled with the roar of the blast, a sound that echoed like thunder through the heavens. Ripples cascaded outward from the point of impact, distorting the barrier¡¯s shimmering surface.


    Cracks spiderwebbed from the center, fissures deepening with every passing moment, as if the fabric of reality was being torn apart. Bright shards of light cascaded down from the barrier, and the atmosphere crackled with residual energy.


    Mathew was sure that he had done it, that even this magical barrier couldn¡¯t withstand the Celestial language, and that was not where he used an Advanced Word of Power. But he was shocked when the air calmed and the barrier, which seemed to be on the edge of destruction, rapidly began to repair itself.


    There was a heavy smell of Aether as a blue haze began to rise from the mountains below. It seemed to fuse with the barrier and restore what had been broken.


    Letting out a huff of air, Mathew was about to run his fingers through his hair in frustration when his gauntleted fingers touched his helmet.


    ¡°Tch.¡± Mathew grunted in irritation.


    ¡°My Lord, perhaps there is another way to bypass the barrier. If we return to Haven, we can explore different options.¡± Hilo offered. His confidence in The Enduring was unshakable, but the Kelestrians had built this barrier to keep their people confined.


    It was unreasonable to expect one person to break it.


    ¡°There is no other way, Hilo.¡± Mathew replied, his voice trailing off as he thought about his options. He turned to look at the Artisan.


    ¡°Do you trust me, Hilo?¡± Mathew asked, and the Artisans eyes opened wide in surprise. He hurriedly nodded.


    ¡°Explicitly, My lord.¡± Hilo replied without hesitation. Mathew studied the older man for a moment before nodding.


    ¡°Then that trust should be rewarded.¡± Mathew stated. He turned back to the barrier and once again raised his hand to point at the barrier. The air calmed, and it seemed as if the world was holding its breath.


    A strange presence seemed to have halted all movement; unseen hands held Hilo and the others still as if ordering them to watch The Enduring, to witness what was about to happen and not miss a moment.


    Mathew licked his lips, his nervousness unseen by anyone due to the visor blocking his face. He wasn¡¯t sure what was about to happen, but the Celestial Magic was said to be so powerful that even the gods feared it.


    Surely it could destroy this barrier?


    Mathew drew in a deep breath, steadying himself and focusing his mind. When he was in an optimum state, he spoke.


    ¡°A Starless Night.¡±


    As Mathew invoked the Celestial Magic, the world around them was engulfed in an unsettling silence. The sun, once bright and warm above them, was consumed in an instant. Everything in the sky was swallowed in the encroaching void. Light flickered and died, leaving the skies in a suffocating blackness that obscured not only the sun but the stars themselves.


    The vibrant hues of the world faded, replaced by an all-encompassing darkness that pressed in from every direction.


    A chilling air swept across the Stormrider, an icy gust that carried whispers of despair, curling around the crew like a shadowy hand. Their breath became visible in the sudden cold; each breath seemed to draw away the little warmth they had within them.


    Fear coiled tightly in their chests, a primal terror that left them shaking. The silence was thick, almost suffocating, and nothing could pierce it.


    In that unfathomable darkness, the barrier gave a brief flicker of bright light as if it were trying to struggle to block out the night before succumbing.


    Mathew stumbled and fell to one knee as the spell faded and the darkness retreated. Panting, he found it difficult to catch his breath. The Celestial Spell had taken a toll on him in a way that wasn¡¯t just physical. It was as if a piece of his soul had been laid bare, exposed to the vastness of the universe for a moment too long.


    Waving off Hilo and the others as they ran forward to help him, he ordered the ship forward. They still had to reach Kelestria and find a way to safeguard Haven for the Harboured.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯

 Chapter 217 – Floor 36: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 217</u> ¨C Floor 36: Part 1


    Floor 35 ¨C The Wrongs of the Past (Complete)


    You have successfully prevented an attack on the Harboured city of Haven by going on the offensive. The Kelestrians will be unable to attack the city while you are within their territory.


    Reward: The Second Verse of a Celestial Spell ¨C A Bloody Moon


    When all light is extinguished, and the stars themselves are removed from the sky, a blood moon will rise to take their place.


    Floor 36 ¨C A Lasting Peace


    The Harboured will only be safe as long as their Dark Sovereign protects them. Find a way to forge a lasting peace between these two peoples.


    Reward: The Third Verse of a Celestial Spell.


    Lirael watched the horizon while standing next to her mentor, Dominic, for the approaching Harboured vessel. The terror of the sun disappearing in the middle of the day and darkness swallowing their world had left her shaken.


    News had arrived shortly after the light returned that the Harboured had breached the barrier that left them safely contained in the wastelands far away from Kelestria. Lirael hadn¡¯t been the only one to tremble at the thought of what those murderous savages would do to the Kelestrians now that they were free.


    But they were ready; the barriers around the city were strong enough to keep them out. And, if the unthinkable happened and they managed to enter Kelestria itself, there were tens of thousands of their finest Enchanters ready to fight them.


    Lirael wondered how they had managed to create a flying ship in the first place. The wastelands lacked resources, and the Harboured had been denied any training or assistance since their failed rebellion over a century ago.


    She had grown up on stories of how the tattooed barbarians had killed countless Kelestrians after her people had only tried to help them by guiding their cursed magic in a constructive and helpful way. She didn¡¯t know why they rebelled, but it had probably been due to jealousy.


    Or perhaps it was just in their nature.


    Whatever the reason, the Harboured had returned and shattered the barrier that kept them away from Kelestria. The shield had stood since the Harboured had first been banished, but Dominic assured her that it was very weak compared to the shield around the city itself.


    They had nothing to worry about, even if the Harboured possessed some strange magic to blot out the sun. It had only been temporary and not enough to cause real damage.


    Or so she hoped.


    Lirael took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had faith in the Lumina Arcanum an their abilities. She could feel the magic around her as she stood next to the east wing, at a platform that looked out over the city below and far into the distance.


    Dominic, noticing her anxiety, placed a calming hand on her shoulder.


    ¡°All will be well, Lirael. We have dealt with the Harboured in the past; we shall do so again without trouble. Even if they have suddenly found a spine, it won¡¯t be enough to threaten our greatness.¡± Dominic assured her, his tone confident.


    She felt better after his words, and she nodded. The shield would hold, but there was no chance that it wouldn¡¯t.


    ¡°Look, there it is!¡± Lirael exclaimed, her keen eyes having found the approaching ship. It was a small, black dot on the horizon. It quickly grew larger in only a few moments, a testament to its speed.


    When it slowed to a stop on the outskirts of the city, the ship was eye level with the floating Lumina Arcanum. Lirael studied it with a critical eye, her curious nature already trying to find how it worked and if she would be able to recreate such a thing.


    Harboured magic was different from their own; they relied on the materials used as well as the runes and sigils that their magics had in common.


    But even she, with her years of study under the best teachers doubted she would be able to build such a ship. Especially when considering they had done so in a wasteland without access to proper materials.


    ¡°How in the world did they think to make this?¡± Lirael whispered softly to herself, but her mentor heard her and replied.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°How indeed. I suspect it has something to do with him.¡± Dominic responded gravely, his eyes locked onto a figure that was standing at the front of the flying ship. Lirael tore her eyes away from the marvel of magical engineering before her and looked at the man who led the Harboured.


    After her first look, she wished she had never seen him at all. He was absolutely terrifying.


    Lirael shivered as she saw the armoured man standing at the prow of the flying ship, just outside the city, and spoke. His voice boomed loudly and clearly for all to hear.


    ¡°Kelestrians.¡± The armoured figure¡¯s voice echoed off the wall of the Lumina Arcanum, and Lirael winced slightly at the harsh tone. He said their name like he was cursing, the word clipped and short at the end.


    ¡°I am The Enduring, Apostle of the god of Unyielding Declaration and Sovereign of the Harboured. I have been tasked by the gods with raising the Harboured from their life of deprivation and providing them with safety and security.¡±


    His voice resonated through the gathered crowd; each word was imbued with a weight that pressed against Lirael¡¯s chest. The Enduring¡¯s presence was commanding, and the air around him crackled with a palpable energy that made her skin prickle even from a wide distance.


    ¡°You¡¯re people stand in the way of that. You¡¯re plans to attack the home of the Harboured has failed. There will be peace between the Kelestrians and the Harboured. I would suggest you send out your leaders to forge a pact to seal this new accord, or I will force it upon you.¡± The Enduring said, his voice trailing off in echoes.


    The result was immediate.


    The people of Kelestria erupted into a furious uproar, a wave of anger and disbelief that shook the very stones beneath Lirael¡¯s feet. She felt the tremors of their discontent vibrate in her bones, a wild chorus that drowned out reason.


    These shouts continued for a few minutes while The Enduring seemed indifferent to the fury his words elicited. He waited patiently, until, after a few moments, a ripple of anticipation swept through the crowd as a large figure began to materialize above the Lumina Arcanum. It was a projection of the Guardian of Kelestria.


    The Guardian was a magnificent construct, an embodiment of the city¡¯s heart and soul. It had started as a simple automaton, a tool for the Kelestrians to assist with their enchanting. But as the enchantments woven into the city grew stronger over the centuries, it had evolved into something more.


    It was the city¡¯s sentient protector, its first line of defence that powered its barrier. Its luminous form shimmered with a soft, golden light that was vaguely humanoid.


    ¡°The Guardian will protect us.¡± Lirael said with assurance, but Dominic frowned. The armoured figure was strangely relaxed despite facing such a powerful entity.


    ¡°No peace with the Harboured!¡± A single voice started the chant, but dozens soon carried it, then hundreds before tens of thousands of people were shouting it out. Lirael found herself joining in, righteous anger burning inside her.


    How dare these barbarians that had spurned the Kelestrian''s goodwill a century ago come back and try to force demands upon them!


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew let the anger of an entire nation of people wash over him. He could feel the power in the glowing shape hovering above the flying structure before him, but he was unconcerned. He could tell that it was tied to the enchanted barrier; it was unable to strike out at him from this distance.


    ¡°My Lord, I told you they hate us with all their being. Peace can never be reached between our peoples.¡± Hilo sadly spoke from behind him.


    The Harboured were deeply affected by the anger on display. None of them had ever even had a single interaction with a Kelestrian, yet this nation was determined to see them destroyed. Mathew nodded and gestured for Hilo to step back.


    ¡°So be it.¡± Mathew said, his amplified voice booming out across the city. He raised both his hands and looked toward the sky. Focusing his mind, he called upon the power of the Celestial Magic.


    ¡°A Starless Night.¡± Mathew said, his voice heard by every soul in the city below him. As before, a strange and oppressive power descended upon them. The sun in the sky flared for a moment before it was extinguished.


    There were no stars, and each light in the world winked out, one after another. With the darkness came a silence so overwhelming that it forced itself upon all sound. No one, not a single person in the multitude amongst those around them, could make a noise.


    The silence was deafening and unbroken, aside from the noise of their own hearts pounding. A chilling wind blew in from the east, a frigid gust that froze the ground.


    But, unlike the barrier keeping the Harboured imprisoned, this shield resisted the cold and the dark. It flashed with a golden light that drove back the darkness and the frost. The terror that gripped the Kelestrians was eased as they saw their Guardian resist this strange magic.


    Lirael felt like she could cheer it on once more, but she couldn¡¯t find the words inside her. The silence was still there, hanging over them, and even the Guardian couldn¡¯t help her.


    Mathew frowned as he felt the spell starting to slip from him. Whatever this entity was, its power was greater than the first verse of the Celestial Magic. Gathering his energy again, he combined the second verse with the first.


    ¡°A Starless Night, A Bloody Moon.¡±


    A red light appeared in the void above them. It started as a faint glow, a tinge of colour against the black, before the rim of a celestial object rose.


    The blood moon rose slowly from the horizon, a deep crimson orb that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. As it ascended, its surface shimmered with shades of red and dark marron, casting an otherworldly glow across the landscape.


    The moon¡¯s light washed over the terrain, illumining the world in a surreal, blood-tinged radiance. Shadows elongated, twisting and curling like tendrils reaching out from the earth.


    As it reached its zenith, the moon bathed everything beneath it in a haunting light, transforming the familiar cityscape into something malevolent and foreboding.


    The oppressive feeling returned tenfold, drowning out the hope that the Guardian¡¯s resistance had inspired. The wind howled, carrying with it the smell of blood and death. The chill air grew colder, and terror swept through the population.


    The light of the Guardian, once bright and golden, faded away to a dull bronze before going dim. The barrier gave a loud ¡®crack¡¯ as the enchantment fell.


    The city was defenceless.

 Chapter 218 – Floor 36: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 218</u> ¨C Floor 36: Part 2


    Lirael watched the barrier crumbled in front of her with shock. The impenetrable shield protecting the city had fallen in only a matter of moments, from a few spoken words from ¡®The Enduring.¡¯


    The golden glow of the Guardian faded away, and the darkness it had been keeping at bay immediately rushed forward. A pervasive horror filled the Kelestrians; the dark void above them, combined with the horrific blood moon, drove away any courage or anger that had been in their hearts.


    Shadows slithered through the streets like living ink, creeping along the cobblestones and curling around the bases of ancient statues. Each tendril undulated with a malevolent grace, drawing strength from the Blood Moon hanging ominously in the sky.


    Its crimson light cast a ghastly hue over the city.


    Buildings stood as mere outlines against the dark tide, their windows glowed faintly from artificial lights before they flickered and were snuffed out like dying stars.  The shadows pooled in alleys, merging and writhing as if they were alive.


    Anyone close to these shadows could hear them whispering to them, describing the fate that would soon befall them. The shadows revealed secrets of despair to those who dared to listen. They seeped into homes, coiling around doorframes and slipping beneath doorways, turning the warm interior into cold voids.


    The once vibrant streets, filled with tens of thousands of Kelestrians shouting their defiance again the Harboured, fell silent under the suffocating embrace of the darkness. The atmosphere was so oppressive that many openly wept.


    The Blood Moon grew larger above the city, its glow pulsating as if it were breathing and urging the shadows onward. Each pulse sent waves of darkness surging, consuming the ground as they swept forward from the outskirts of the city.


    A paralyzing dread clutched at Lirae¡¯s heart, each beat echoing in the growing chaos around her. The sight of the shadows spilling through the streets sent a shiver racing down her spine. It was a visceral reminder of her vulnerability, her mortality.


    Memories of laughter and light faded, replaced by the suffocating grip of despair that hung in the air like a thick fog. Her mind raced in an attempt to grapple with the enormity of this situation. The realization that the Guardian had crumbled away from a few spoken words had left her feeling hollow.


    It was as if the ground beneath her feet had collapsed, the foundation of their defence was gone. A sense of betrayal washed over her, mixed with fear and anger.


    Then, as suddenly as the night had fallen, it was daytime again. The strange Blood Moon had disappeared from the sky and in its place was the warm, yellow sun that drove away the shadows and the cold.


    She looked around in wonder, thinking that what she had just experienced had only been a nightmare, when Dominic¡¯s hand on her shoulder drew her attention back to the situation.


    ¡°It was real. It seems the effects of this strange magic is quite harsh on its user.¡± Her mentor sated, his eyes focused on the floating ship before them.


    Lirael looked to where he was staring and saw the armoured figure leaning against the railing of the ship while one of the Harboured was steadying him to prevent him from falling. The Enduring seemed on the edge of collapse, his legs were unable to support his weight.


    Lireal and Dominic were not the only ones to notice. The crowd far below may not have been able to clearly see what was happening, but the military leaders of the Kelestrian defence forces certainly could. In moments, they were launching a counter attack that drove the remaining fear of the Blood Moon from the citizens.


    Balls of fire streaked across the sky toward the flying vessel, bolts of lightning crackled in the air, illuminating the city with flashes of brilliance. The military leaders, resolute in their determination to take down the Harboured flying ship and The Enduring, counterattacked with vengeance.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    In response, the ship unleashed its own defences. A radiant barrier enveloped it like a protective cocoon. The magical shield pulsed with a fierce energy, absorbing the incoming fireballs and dissipating them in spectacular bursts of light.


    The Harboured had called upon the memories within the stones of withstand the endless wind and relentless heat of their wasteland home, making a shield that could repel the Kelestrian magic. The air filled with the scent of singed ozone as the blasts collided with the barrier and ignited in brilliant flashes of colour.


    Undeterred by the power of the Harboured shields, the Kelestrian sorcerers intensified their assault, weaving intricate patterns of energy in the air. Bolts of lightning erupted from their fingertips, arcing toward the ship in a dazzling display of power.


    Unbeknownst to Lirael, her mouth was hanging open in awe. She didn¡¯t know her people were capable of unleashing such an attack.


    ¡®There was no way the Harboured could withstand this!¡¯ Lirael thought in triumph. Her terror was completely gone and she knew it was only a matter of time before the Harboured were defeated.


    True to her thoughts, the shield around the flying ship began to show signs of failing. Cracks appeared in the shimmering barrier, white lines that spread out like a spider¡¯s web. When a particularly strong blast of lightning struck the shield, it shimmered violently.


    A sound like shattering glass echoed throughout the city and the cracks expanded. The shield pulsed with a fierce light that threatened to give way at any moment.


    Lirael felt a surge of exhilaration, the thrill of their impending victory surged through her as the barrier faltered. Her gaze remained locked on the vessel; every crack in its barrier fed her determination. With each moment, the belief that they could overcome the Harboured threat solidified in her mind.


    The Harboured, with their twisted ambitions and barbarous ways, were on the verge of collapse.


    As another bolt of lightning collided with the barrier, the cracks widened further. A bright fissure split the shield in two and the vessel shuddered. It suddenly dropped from the sky, rocking back and forth, before it caught itself and steadied its flight.


    ¡°This is it. They¡¯re finished.¡± Dominic stated. His tone was a mixture of pride and relief. After the Blood Moon had risen, he had thought his people were doomed. But the weakness of The Enduring had left him with the knowledge that the Kelestrians would win this day.


    The military leadership, seeing the Harboured ship was about to fall, ordered a last barrage of magic. Hundreds of fireballs and thousands of bolts of lightning streaked across the sky. This was the combined might of the Kelestrians in action, a final push that was stronger than any magic they had used before.


    Lirael traced the arc of the offensive spells through the air, knowing that when they struck, the Harboured would be finished. Their defensive barrier was gone, and their ship was about to tumble from the sky.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew stumbled and nearly fell as the backlash of using the Celestial magical spell ravaged his body. He felt exhausted; whatever stamina he had in his body had been plucked out by the Words of Power. He felt diminished as if he was somehow less than he had been before.


    He could barely stand, and if not for Hilo¡¯s steadying hand on his body, Mathew would have fallen. His head was pounding like a drum; everything around him was too bright and too loud. The deck rocked beneath his feet, and he wasn¡¯t sure if it was him or the world spinning out of control.


    Mathew couldn¡¯t hold on, he wanted nothing more than to lie down and pass out. He wanted to throw away the burdens that had been placed on him, the expectations from those around him. The armour he wore felt like lead weights pressing down on him.


    He swayed; every sound that struck the ship''s barrier and every flash of light intensified the throbbing in his head. The vibrant magical clashes in the air seemed to pierce through him; each pulse resonated like a hammer against his skull.


    Mathew felt adrift, disconnected from the chaos around him. It was as if he were a mere observer in a world that was spiraling out of control.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised, Mathew. I didn¡¯t think you would give up so easily.¡± A familiar voice said.


    Mathew snapped his eyes open at the sudden sound, but aside from Hilo, there was no one around him.


    ¡°I guess I didn¡¯t really know you at all. I thought you had conviction that you were tougher than you looked. But look at you now. An Apostle, after you said you would never serve the gods willingly. Thinking about giving up and quitting after you earned that title of ¡®Enduring.¡¯¡± The voice continued, its tone maddeningly recognizable, one that he hadn¡¯t heard in decades, possibly centuries.


    ¡°You¡¯re pathetic.¡± The voice finished, and Mathew shuddered. Squeezing his eyes shut, Mathew hissed out a response.


    ¡°Shut up, Samuel. You¡¯re dead and gone!¡±


    ¡°Oh? Sure I am. And it looks like you¡¯re about to join me. That¡¯s too bad, I guess we should change your name from ¡®The Enduring¡¯ to ¡®The  Endured.¡¯ Poor Mathew, he¡¯s endured enough. Just lie down and die already.¡± Samuel whispered in his ear.


    It was just his subconscious urging him not to give up. Playing tricks on him by using a voice from his past to motivate him. It was just trying to help. Mathew understood that.


    But gods dammit did it piss him off!


    When the final barrage of fireballs and lightning bolts was about to reach the Stormrider, Mathew pushed Hilo away from him and stood upright under his own strength. Raising his hand, he pointed to the front of the ship and bellowed at the top of his lungs.


    ¡°Sanctuary!¡±

 Chapter 219 – Floor 36: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 219</u> ¨C Floor 36: Part 3


    The crystalline barrier shimmered brilliantly in front of the Stormrider, an iridescent shield that absorbed the incoming onslaught. Fireballs collided with the surface, erupting into bursts of orange and red that cascaded downwards toward the city below like falling stars.


    Each impact sent ripples across the barrier, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and energy. Lightning bolts struck with ferocious cracks, causing intense flashes of white. The barrier pulsed with electric blue energy as it absorbed the force. Each bolt deflected by the shield arced in dazzling splinters through the air.


    The sound was deafening, a cacophony of elemental fury meeting an unwavering defence. The air around the barrier crackled with tension, the magical essence swirled in a tempest. Hues of violet and green flickered at its edges, a testament to the fierce struggle that was taking place.


    Lirael watched with grudging respect at the display of power. Through the intense flashes of light and swirling clouds of smoke and debris, she could see the armoured figure of The Enduring standing at the prow of the ship.


    He was facing everything the Kelestrians could throw at him by himself and he was withstanding it. Slowly, the astonishing onslaught eased off at the display of magic ceased.


    ¡°How¡­how is that possible?¡± Lirael whispered to Dominic. She expected an answer from her mentor, but the older man shook his head in amazement. The Enduring waited for a moment before lowering his hand and pointing at the city below.


    ¡°Burst!¡± he shouted, and Lirael could hear the fury in his voice. It was a harsh, cold command that resonated through the air. Far below the Lumina Arcanum, a section of the wall protecting Kelestria shuddered violently, the foundations trembling in response to The Enduring¡¯s will.


    Then, with a deafening crack, the wall collapsed. It erupted into a massive cloud of dust and debris. The sound was a thunderous roar, a cacophony of destruction that echoed through the streets of the city. Lirael¡¯s breath caught in her throat as she witnessed the chaos unfold below.


    The once-imposing barrier now lay in ruins, fragments scattering like fallen leaves in the wind. From her elevated position, she could see the soldiers below, their faces contorted in shock and terror as they scrambled away from the collapsing structure.


    Shouts of alarm filled the air, mingling with the dust and confusion.


    <u>Page Break </u>


    Mathew had never been the type to anger quickly. Maybe it was due to how he was raised in a calm environment where he never lacked anything. He could count on one hand the number of times he had truly been in a rage.


    This was one of those times.


    His subconscious words, spoke in Samuel¡¯s voice, had driven him into a fury that was terrifying for all those around him. The Kelestrians were terrible people; he could see it from how they reacted to the Harboured.


    They drove them into the wastes and sealed them in without a thought of sparing them. The Kelestrians wanted the Harboured to die. And Mathew had almost been too weak to stop it from happening. He had almost failed another Floor because he wasn¡¯t strong enough to use the gifts and abilities he had been granted to succeed.


    Never again.


    Standing against the fury of the Kelestrians, Mathew stood upright and spoke the Words of Power with a strength that he had never felt before.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Shift.¡±


    Mathew disappeared from the deck of the Stormrider and in his place was a large piece of stone. Switching places with an object, he reappeared in the street far below near a section of soldiers that had been bombarding his ship with their magic.


    ¡°Heavy.¡± Mathew ordered; the Word of Power sounded harsh to his ears. The sound of clattering metal filled the air as the soldiers around him struggled to maintain their footing. Their knees buckled, and one by one, they fell to the ground.


    The weight of their gear had become unbearable. Panic surged among them, eyes wide with disbelief as they tried to comprehend the force that had incapacitated them.


    Mathew let them be. The Kelestrians may have wanted to wipe out the Harboured, but he wasn¡¯t going to needlessly slaughter them in response. They were out of this fight as surely as if he had shackled them.


    Walking slowly through the streets, Mathew unleashed the Words of Power onto the Kelestrians. He would force them into a pact to protect the Harboured, one that was enforceable by the gods themselves.


    ¡°Light.¡±


    The command cut through the chaos around him. Instantly, a group of soldiers that were rushing toward Mathew felt their feet leave the ground. A sense of weightlessness enveloped them as they soared into the air.


    A few meters above the street, they paused, suspended in a gentle rotation. The forces of gravity no longer held sway over them; their armour and weapons dangled uselessly as they floated, disoriented.


    ¡°Fear.¡±


    A mage swore after the battle that he witnessed The Enduring grow to be as tall as a building, with flaming red eyes that shot streams of burning fire. Another had said The Enduring had turned into a creature of darkness, winged and terrible to behold that feasted on the flesh of the innocent and drank their blood.


    None of these stories could be verified, and it was clear that some force had worked to imprint these images into their memories.


    Mathew walked through the streets unopposed, anyone who saw him fled in terror. The few of the city''s protectors that stood their ground were promptly sent crashing to the ground, the eight of their clothing too much to bear, or sent skyward to hover uselessly until they could be rescued later.


    After marching through the streets, Mathew came upon the Nexus Gate, the teleportation circle that led to the Lumina Arcanum far above. He disappeared once again, this time reappearing in the most important building in Kelestria.


    There, surrounded by the city¡¯s most prominent citizens, he made his demands.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Lirael knew that she would remember this scene for the rest of her life. The Enduring was like a force of nature, his voice breaking through the chaos to unleash strange magic that no one could resist. He stood in the main hall of the Lumina Arcanum without fear of being attacked.


    His power radiated around him like the sun breaking through storm clouds. The force of his mana was undeniable, it formed an invisible vortex that could be felt brushing against her skin. His armour was as dark as the void he had commanded to consume the Guardian, and she shivered when she met his gaze.


    She was standing next to Dominic and all the others from the Arcanum as The Enduring marched into the hall and made his demands.


    ¡°There will be peace, in one form or another. The Harboured are sinless and, as Apostle of Unyielding Declaration, I declare that they are under my protection.¡± The Enduring stated, his voice echoing throughout the hall.


    ¡°Sinners!¡±


    ¡°The Harboured are barbarians!¡±


    Shouts erupted throughout the hall, and The Enduring allowed them to wash over him without remarking. After a few minutes, he raised his hand and spoke. It was another of those strange commands that shook the air and made the world respond to his will.


    ¡°Silence.¡±


    The shouts immediately ceased, and The Enduring looked around for a moment before speaking.


    ¡°I give you a choice. Make peace and swear on Unyielding Declaration that you will abide by it, or I will destroy your city.¡±


    It didn¡¯t take long for the leaders of the Kelestrians to decide. Under the watchful eyes of The Enduring, a pact was sealed. The Harboured would be allowed to travel and thrive, while the Kelestrians would never again make an attempt to subjugate or destroy them.


    Mathew heard the ¡®Ding¡¯ from the notification before the ink on the parchment was dry. Taking a last look at Hilo, who proudly stood in front of his people and displayed the pact to ensure their future, Mathew disappeared.


    Congratulations!


    Floor 36: A Lasting Peace (Complete!)


    You have successfully forged a peace that will last as long as the god of Unyielding Declaration.


    You have been awarded the Third Verse of the Celestial Magical Spell. ¡°A Foul Land of Blight.¡±


    In the black void, a Blood Moon rises and casts its corrupting light on the land, cursing it for all eternity.

 Chapter 220 – Floor 37: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 220</u> ¨C Floor 37: Part 1


    Floor 37: A Meeting with Unyielding Declaration


    You have been called to meet with your Deity.


    Reward: Unknown.


    Mathew blinked as the brightness from the white faded to reveal a sprawling landscape of rolling hills and dense forests under an indigo sky. The familiar weight of his dark armour, a constant presence for a decade, was replaced by the comfortable fit of his jeans and jacket.


    It felt surreal, like shedding an old skin.


    Mathew looked around now that his eyes had adjusted. The world around him was like a dream, bathed in an ethereal glow beneath a sky unblemished by a single cloud that would shift colours subtly as he stared at it¡ªfirst purple, then blue.


    The air was crisp and invigorating, filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and grass. Rolling hills carpeted the landscape in vibrant shades of green, separated by clusters of wildflowers that swayed gently in the soft, cool breeze.


    In the distance, majestic mountains rose, their peaks capped with glistening white sow that contrasted beautifully against the purplish-blue sky above. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long, golden rays that danced across the grass and trees, illuminating the scenery with a warm, magical light.


    A tranquil river meandered through the valley, its waters sparkling in the light like liquid crystal. Small waterfalls tumbled over smooth stones, the melodic sound combining with the soft rustling of trees and grass to create a soothing atmosphere.


    Amidst this pristine beauty stood ancient trees, their trunks were thick and gnarled. Their lush canopies stretched wide and their leaves were so green they were nearly black.


    Mathew had been to many worlds, he had seen things that could hardly be believed. He had traveled to places people considered to be the most beautiful landscapes in existence, but this surpassed all of them.


    ¡°This is paradise. The garden of Eden.¡± Mathew whispered. His soul felt buoyed just by being here and unseen wounds in his spirit were healed.


    ¡°It was.¡± A voice said, and Mathew turned to see Unyielding Declaration standing just behind him. The Celestial had appeared out of nowhere.


    Unyielding Declaration stood tall and graceful, an otherworldly figure radiation an aura of calm and power. His long, white hair glowed like liquid down his back, shimmering softly in the light as if infused with the essence of the heavens.


    Each strand of hair framed a strikingly pale and alien face. His skin was almost ghostly, devoid of any colour, yet it was smooth and flawless. The most unsettling aspect of the god was his eyes; they were deep, black voids without irises or whites.


    They absorbed the light of the sun rather than reflecting it, but Mathew could detect a faint flicker deep within, hinting at knowledge beyond human understanding.


    Unyielding Declarations limbs were long and slender, appearing almost too delicate to support his weight. There was an elegance to the Celestial, each movement he made was deliberate and slow. He had four fingers on each hand, another sign of his alien nature.


    When he moved across the ground toward Mathew, it was with an unnatural fluidity, as if he were gliding rather than walking. The air around his body was charged with energy, and Mathew could feel it brush against his skin like static, raising the hair on his arms slightly.


    ¡°This is, was, your home?¡± Mathew asked in curiosity. He didn¡¯t know much about the Celestials, only that they had lost their planet long ago and had existed in spiritual form ever since.


    Unyielding Declaration looked at Mathew with those black eyes that seemed to drink the light before nodding.


    ¡°Yours as well.¡± The god said cryptically, his eyes sweeping the horizon once again.


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± Mathew stammered, unsure if he had heard correctly.


    ¡°This is Earth, long before your people¡¯s time. We were the first of her children, birthed in the union between her and the Song of Creation. The Celestial Language given physical form.¡± Unyielding Declaration explained, although Mathew couldn¡¯t understand the term the god was using.


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    ¡°I have no idea what you are talking about.¡± Mathew admitted, shaking his head as he did so.


    ¡°I know.¡± Unyielding Declaration responded.


    ¡°It matters not. We are here to discuss you and your accomplishments, not the history of my people.¡± Unyielding Declaration turned away from the view of the rolling hills and beautiful landscape. With a wave of his hand, reality shifted, and a device appeared.


    It loomed majestically in front of Mathew, a giant crystal encased in intricate, golden metalwork. The crystal itself was a mesmerizing hue of deep blue, shimmering with an inner light that pulsed gently like a heartbeat.


    Swirls of lighter blue danced within, resembling swirling galaxies. Mathew could smell the Aether in the air, a strong spice that burned his nostrils. Wisps of blue mist escaped from the crystal, curling into the air like tendrils before being gradually drawn back into the device.


    ¡°The bond between a god and their Apostle is fascinating and distinctive, and none is more so than ours. Typically, this bond both gives and takes. The Apostle ¡®gives¡¯ the god their loyalty, service and access to the myriad worlds they travel through as they climb the Tower.¡± Unyielding Declaration clarified, his voice had an odd tone, as if reality vibrated slightly in response to what he was saying.


    ¡°In return, their deity shelters and protects them. They guide their Apostles as a parent would a child, or, in some cases, as a master would a servant.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you brought me here, to guide me?¡± Mathew asked. He had nothing against Unyielding Declaration, but he couldn¡¯t imagine this deity guiding or protecting him. They didn¡¯t have that kind of relationship.


    ¡°No. As I explained, our relationship is unique. And one you agreed to without hesitation.¡± Unyielding Declaration reminded Mathew, who rolled his eyes and grew irritated at the statement.


    ¡°It was either that or death. I didn¡¯t have much of a choice.¡± Mathew retorted. The god showed zero response to the comment, continuing his explanation as if Mathew hadn¡¯t said a word.


    ¡°Regardless, our bond is one of only ¡®take.¡¯ There is no requirement to ¡®give¡¯ you anything on my part. This is the physical manifestation of all the Aether you would have accumulated in the Tower since entering into my service.¡±


    ¡°Would have?! Are you the reason I haven¡¯t been able to gain levels or why the Tower has been so stingy with the Aether rewards? I¡¯ve been poor as dirt forever!¡± Mathew exclaimed, turning to glare at Unyielding Declaration.


    Frustratingly, the god simply stared at him without emotion or expression, as if he were a parent watching a small child throw a tantrum. Mathew let out another huff of annoyance before crossing his arms and waiting for the deity to explain.


    ¡°This Aether is the fulfillment of our bond. With it, our initial contract is complete.¡±


    ¡°What was our contract?¡± Mathew asked in confusion. He didn¡¯t recall anything being said about a contract when he agreed to become an Apostle.


    ¡°You would purchase your life for a set amount of Aether. This amount.¡± Unyielding Declaration gestured toward the crystal filled to the brim with Aether.


    ¡°This is what my life was worth?¡± Mathew asked, shocked at the requirement. There would have to have been more Aether inside that crystal than Mathew had ever seen before. Even the mountain of crystallized Aether would not compare to it.


    ¡°Considerably less so. But you were not in a position to complain.¡± Unyielding Declaration replied. Mathew let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. If it were anyone else, Mathew would have thought the deity was making a joke.


    ¡°With this Aether, our contract is complete, and you may have your freedom from my service once more. Or, you may stay my Apostle, and we can forge a new pact, one consisting of proper ¡®give¡¯ and ¡®take.¡¯¡± Unyielding Declaration suggested.


    Mathew paused at the words. He would have jumped at the chance in the past; his hatred of the gods and their Apostles had made him distrustful and eager for his freedom. But Unyielding Declaration hadn¡¯t mistreated him, aside from taking all of his Aether.


    But the god had saved his life, so losing Aether in return wasn¡¯t that bad when he thought about it.


    Mathew¡¯s thoughts churned as he considered Unyielding Declaration¡¯s offer. The cool blue light of the crystal pulsed softly behind the god, casting flickering shadows across the ground. Memories of the years spent as an Apostle flickered in his mind.


    ¡°Why me? Why do you want me to stay as your Apostle? You¡¯ve already taken what you need of me.¡± Mathew asked.


    Unyielding Declaration¡¯s void-like eyes pierced deeply into Mathew¡¯s. They were so alien, so foreign to him. He kept having to remind himself that, despite the Celestials having helped him in the past, he knew very little about them.


    ¡°The gods of the Tower require an Apostle. If I am to join their ranks, so do I. An Apostle is a god¡¯s eyes and ears, their hands and voice in the mortal realm. They carry the will of their deity, acting as both a champion and a conduit for their power.¡±


    ¡°As for why I have chosen you, there are several reasons. I have already gained access to several worlds through your efforts, granting me a source of Aether. You are a trusted commodity, a known variable.¡±


    ¡°How sentimental.¡± Mathew muttered in response.


    ¡°Finally, there is your resilience. I believe that with you as my Apostle, I will be able to successfully Ascend. I also believe that if you were to remain my Apostle, you will have the means to reach the top of the Tower.¡±


    Mathew let out a breath of air as he took a moment to think.


    ¡°I¡­need some time to think about it.¡± Mathew replied. Unyielding Declaration nodded and turned back to the Crystal.


    ¡°Very well. As you do so, perhaps you would like to see the ¡®fruits of your labours.¡¯¡± Unyielding Declaration said, raising his hands toward the crystal.


    ¡°You will bear witness to the long-awaited return of the Celestials.¡±

 Chapter 221 – Floor 37: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 221</u> ¨C Floor 37: Part 2


    At Unyielding Declaration¡¯s command, the massive crystal device hummed to life. Its intricate facets caught the light and reflected it in a dazzling array of blues that rippled like waves across the surroundings.


    The core of the crystal, filled with swirling Aether, pulsated with an otherworldly energy. It sent out tendrils of light that extended upwards, swaying as if they were alive. Mathew was reminded of a flower blooming, with the tendrils acting as petals with a crystal core at the center.


    As the crystal¡¯s triggering reached its peak, a brilliant glow enveloped the device, bathing everything around Mathew in an ethereal blue light. The atmosphere of this paradise-like planet began to change; the air began to crackle with the resonance of this exotic power.


    The world around the device began to shift; the landscape morphed and bent at the edges of Mathew¡¯s vision. The trees in the distance twisted into spirals, and the ground beneath his feet trembled. The sky darkened, and the indigo slowly turned to black.


    Mathew could feel the pulse of the Aether resonating with him, tugging at his very essence. The Crystal¡¯s light intensified, and the hum grew louder.


    Then, Unyielding Declaration began to sing.


    Mathew couldn¡¯t understand the words of the song; the Celestial Language being used was still far beyond his comprehension. But the tone was of longing, a calling out to the universe, beseeching for change and renewal.


    It was haunting and beautiful; it reverberated through Mathew¡¯s very being, sending shivers down his spine. The melody wrapped around him, each noted infused with the emotions of hope, sorrow and a deep yearning.


    As Unyielding Declaration sang, the crystal glowed brighter, its light pulsating in rhythm with his words. While Mathew was caught up in what was happening, he failed to immediately notice that Unyielding Declaration was no longer alone.


    A shimmering figure emerged from the ethereal light surrounding the crystal. The Celestial appeared like a wisp of moonlight; her long, white hair cascaded down her back. It glowed softly in the blue haze of Aether.


    Her pale skin radiated an inner luminescence, accentuating her otherworldly appearance. With elongated limbs and delicate features, she glided across the ground. Her four-fingered hands weaved through the air as if conducting the Unyielding Declaration¡¯s song.


    Mathew could see through the newly arrived Celestial¡¯s body; her form wasn¡¯t truly a part of their world. He had seen her before when Unyielding Declaration had made him an Apostle.


    Her presence added a new layer to the melody, and the air thickened with energy in response. The female Celestial¡¯s voice was softer and slightly higher in pitch, intertwined seamlessly with Unyielding Declarations.


    As this new Celestial sang, the space around her shimmered, and from the depths of the crystal¡¯s light, dozens more figures emerged. Each one bore their own unique brilliance. Their ethereal forms reflecting a kaleidoscope of colours and energies.


    Some had hair that flickered like embers from a fire, as red as flame, while others glimmered in hues of silver, gold, copper and bronze. They joined the song, their voices layering in a rich tapestry of sound. They were an orchestra of longing and hope, weaving through the fabric of this false world that had once been their home.


    Their numbers swelled to hundreds within moments, all contributing to the song. Their voices rose and fell, resonating with the pulsations from the crystal they surrounded. The air shimmered with their collective energy, a palpable force that sent ripples through the landscape and threatened to push Mathew backwards.


    Mathew stood transfixed, overwhelmed by the beauty of this gathering. When their numbers grew to tens of thousands, he knew that he was witnessing the rebirth of an entire species, the rise of an absent civilization.


    The Celestial choir sang in unison, their voices interlocking in a harmony that resonated with the fabric of reality. Mathew saw a remarkable transformation begin. The translucent figures of the Celestials slowly solidified, and their ethereal forms regained substance.


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    The light that had once defined their ghostly bodies began to coalesce into distinct shapes. They were becoming physical beings once again.


    With each note of the song, the crystal¡¯s vibrant Aether was gently siphoned away; its brilliant blue light dimmed as it fueled the transformation. The Celestials became more grounded, more real in a way that even Unyielding Declaration hadn¡¯t been.


    As the last vestiges of Aether were drawn from the crystal, a sense of calm settled over the landscape. The song gradually quieted, fading away until there was complete silence.


    Mathew took a moment to wipe away the tears that had streaked down his cheeks. He hadn¡¯t realized the song had been affecting him so much until it had stopped. Blinking his eyes rapidly to clear them, he found that the Celestials were gone once more, along with the empty crystal they had been standing around.


    There was only Unyielding Declaration and the female Celestial from before that remained. They were speaking softly, their voices carrying only a short distance away from them, but Mathew heard their words.


    ¡°It is finally over.¡± The Female Celestial stated, her black eyes sweeping over the landscape of their restored world. Her alien features showed a hint of satisfaction and joy, which was rare for Mathew to see on the face of a Celestial.


    He couldn¡¯t recall a single time that any of them had shown emotions in the past.


    ¡°Partially. I still must communicate with the gods of the Tower. They will take any delay or deferral as weakness. The thought that one can be content with what they have is a foreign concept to them.¡± Unyielding Declaration replied.


    ¡°Avarice. No matter the time we live in, that Sin is paramount.¡± She replied she turned away from her companion to look at Mathew.


    ¡°You have adequately completed your task. What reward was promised?¡± She asked Unyielding Declaration. If the deity was upset or disturbed by his companion talking to him in such a manner, he didn¡¯t show it.


    Mathew wasn¡¯t sure what the relationship was between the pair, but Unyielding Declaration always acted in a slightly subservient manner to the Female Celestial. He had even asked her to become a deity instead, but she had turned the role down.


    Unyielding Declaration turned his black eyes toward Mathew as if weighing his worth before replying.


    ¡°I have offered to retain him as an Apostle. He has yet to make a decision.¡±


    ¡°Inadequate. We would remain in his debt; the scales would be imbalanced. An Apostle may wear a collar of gold, but it is still a collar.¡± She responded, shaking her head slightly.


    ¡°What would you suggest?¡± Unyielding Declaration asked, leaving the choice in her hands.


    The female Celestial began to move toward Mathew slowly, her movements so graceful that it seemed like she was floating. Her dress, made of a cloth so thin and light that it seemed like mist, was undisturbed by her passing.


    ¡°We have taken from him, but some can be returned.¡± She said as she arrived in front of Mathew. She was so tall that he was forced to crane his head back to look at her. He felt like a child standing next to an adult, in both stature and demeanour.


    She had a way about her, a commanding presence that was just a part of her being.


    ¡°As a reward, your ¡®Attributes¡¯ will be returned to you.¡± She stated before reaching down and placing a finger against his forehead. It was cold and hard, like ivory or pearl. The female Celestial then spoke in the Celestial Language.


    To Mathew¡¯s surprise, it wasn¡¯t a single word or a single phrase like the Celestial Magical Spell he had learned. It was much longer.


    ¡°A Silent Call, A Fractured Dream,


    An Empty Road Where Whispers Gleam.


    A Hidden Truth, A lingering Spark,


    A Journey¡¯s End, A Dawn from Dark.


    A Promise Kept, A Debt Now Clear,


    An Endless Climb, The Goal Draws Near.¡±


    A rush of power swept through Mathew''s body, a reinvigorating energy that emanated from the Celestial¡¯s touch. It coursed through his veins like liquid fire, igniting every nerve with a vivid intensity. He felt his senses sharpen, and the world around him came into focus.


    His muscles tensed, and his body strengthened. He could recall his memories with more clarity; his thoughts flowed more swiftly.


    All of his lost attributes had been returned to him. He felt stronger than ever! Better yet, his mana had been restored! Even though he didn¡¯t have any of the Blessings he once had, he could now use the magical items in his inventory, like Midnight, the Wyvern and the Wrathful Blade.


    While Mathew was marvelling at his sudden transformation, the female Celestial turned away from him to look at Unyielding Declaration.


    ¡°You are resolved to retain his service?¡± She asked.


    ¡°He has been useful to us. You would not be standing here without him. The debt has been repaid, but a new bargain can be struck if he is amenable.¡± Unyielding Declaration replied. This time, the female Celestial clearly frowned, a crease appearing on her flawless face.


    ¡°His understanding of our language is appalling, and he is an embarrassment as a Speaker. I would be ashamed to have him as our representative.¡± She proclaimed.


    ¡°You know I¡¯m still here, right? I can hear everything you are saying about me.¡± Mathew replied, only to be ignored by her.


    ¡°He has been useful.¡± Unyielding Declaration repeated a slight hint of a smile on his face. The female Celestial paused and shook her head.


    ¡°Leave him with me. I will teach him enough, so I do not feel shame at his bungling attempts at speech.¡± She replied, gesturing with her long and delicate four-fingered hand in dismissal. The deity nodded and disappeared in a flash of light.

 Chapter 222 – Floor 38: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 222</u> ¨C Floor 38: Part 1


    Floor 38: An Unimpressed Mentor.


    You have been tasked with learning more of the Celestial Language by Unyielding Declaration. You may not move on to the next Floor until you are deemed ¡®Acceptable.¡¯


    Reward: N/A


    Perched on the edge of a cliff, the Celestial abode Mathew had been given for his stay was strikingly alien. It had an organic shape to it, resembling a giant seashell of elongated pod.


    Its surface shimmered in rainbow hues that reflected the indigo sky above. Glowing patterns pulsed naturally along its exterior, creating an attractive display of light in the evenings. The entrance to the home was a curved opening in the stone exterior, leading to an airy interior filled with soft furniture that mimicked the natural forms of the surrounding landscape.


    But the best feature was the large, panoramic windows that provided a breathtaking view of the sprawling landscape around it. The vibrant flora were a multitude of colours, deep greens, bright blues and vivid reds.


    The atmosphere on this newly restored planet was serene and peaceful. But also completely empty aside from Mathew and his mentor.


    He had been here for a few weeks already, and, aside from the Female Celestial, he hadn¡¯t seen another living soul. Mathew knew they were out there, somewhere, but they avoided coming anywhere near him as if he were a pariah.


    The Celestials didn¡¯t seem fond of outsiders. That was especially true of his mentor, his tutor who had volunteered to teach him more of the Celestial Language.


    Lunara, that was her name in English. It was impossible for Mathew to pronounce it in the Celestial Language, and she had mocked him for even trying. As far as he could tell, she was a leader amongst her people, but he hadn¡¯t been able to decipher her relationship with Unyielding Declaration.


    She was above him in some way, that was clear from their interactions, but she refused to provide any personal information.


    Mathew let out a sigh as he watched the sun rise from the eastern horizon. His lessons would begin soon, and Lunara would never be late. Every day was the same, and he began to dread their interactions. Not that she was abusive or hard to understand, quite the contrary, Lunara was a good teacher.


    It was the content of their studies that was making him depressed.


    The Celestial Language was incredibly difficult to understand, and he had quickly learned that the words he had been given as rewards from the Tower were the most basic parts. Lunara had described his efforts to use it as little more than barbaric grunts and hisses to her Celestial ears.


    Like always, the Celestial simply appeared in the center of the room as if she had always been there but Mathew had just been unable to see her. She was already in the middle of speaking before Mathew could turn away from the window.


    ¡°Begin by demonstrating your grasp of ¡®Burn.¡¯¡± Lunara instructed, her black eyes boring into Mathew¡¯s as she waited impatiently for him to perform his task. She placed a small, unlit candle on the ground in front of her.


    It was the same routine every day; they worked on his basic understanding of the Words of Power before moving on to new ways to use them.


    Before Mathew had begun his instruction, he had taken the Words of Power at face value. Burn meant to ignite something, to light it on fire and let the object be consumed. But Lunara told him that his thinking was too basic.


    Burn meant to ignite and be consumed by flame, but it was also a form of transformation, of an object turning from one state to another. It was a release of energy. It was a Word that could lead to many others, but for now, Mathew was working on his control.


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    Taking a deep breath, he focused on the candle wick and whispered the Word of Power gently.


    ¡°Burn.¡±


    A small flame flickered to life, merrily burning on top of the candle. Mathew let out his breath in relief that he had been able to control his power. When he had first started training, he had nearly burned down the entire house when Lunara had ordered him to light a candle.


    ¡°Tolerable. Now, grasp the flame.¡± Lunara continued, gesturing for Mathew to step forward and continue where they had left off the day before. He winced slightly in remembrance.


    The goal was to completely control the flame, to not allow it to burn anything but the intended target. So far, he hadn¡¯t been able to grasp the concept. Stepping forward, he reached down slowly and picked up the candle.


    Flicking his eyes toward Lunara, whose displeasure at his hesitation was all but visible on her alien face, he grabbed the flame with his right hand. He immediately felt his palm burn, and he dropped the candle in response.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I just don¡¯t understand what you want me to do.¡± Mathew admitted, shaking his head and rubbing his hand where he had burnt it. A whispered word from Lunara had it healed, but the memory of the pain remained.


    ¡°Perhaps it is time for us to approach this matter in a different way. I had thought to teach you our language by building upon the words you already knew. But you don¡¯t not understand the meaning of those words, you are just mimicking the sound without comprehending why. You think of ¡®Burn¡¯ as ¡®Make Fire,¡¯ but it is so much more than that.¡±


    ¡°There Words of Power. I thought that¡¯s how they were supposed to be used.¡± Mathew replied and Lunara shook her head slowly.


    ¡°That is where you are mistaken. They are not ¡®used.¡¯ You do not speak the word ¡®Burn¡¯ and expect it to make fire, like rubbing two sticks together.¡± Lunara explained, only to confuse Mathew more.


    ¡°But that¡¯s exactly what it does!¡± Mathew exclaimed in frustration, running his hand through his hair. The Celestial was unfamiliar with the cause of Mathew¡¯s frustration, she had difficulty comprehending how someone could not understand something so basic.


    To the Celestials, the Words of Power were a part of them, like their hands or eyes. How could you explain to a child how to see, how to hear or feel? They¡¯ve been doing it all of their life; they were born with the ability.


    ¡°The Celestial Language isn¡¯t just Words of Power to create Fire or destroy your enemies. It¡¯s a way of communing with the Universe, of joining your voice with the Song of Creation. You are a Speaker, Mathew, but you haven¡¯t given a single thought to what you are speaking.¡± Lunara explained.


    ¡°Yes, Burn means to ¡®make fire.¡¯ But it also means to consume an object with flame, to create heat and light, a release of energy. A word is just an utterance of sound, but the meaning behind it is more important, the intention of the word.¡± Lunara paused, before pointing at the candle on the ground that Mathew had dropped.


    ¡°Burn.¡± She whispered, her voice vibrated through the air, and reality shifted at her command. A flame flickered to life on the candle, burning against the stone floor of the house. She picked it up slowly with her long, pale fingers to show Mathew.


    ¡°My word ¡®Burn¡¯ was a way of beseeching the Song of Creation to interact with reality. I asked it to light this candle on fire, but, in a way, I was the one who created this flame. So, as the creator of this fire, how could it ever harm me? How could it ever ignore my commands? I should be able to do whatever I want with this flame because I willed it into existence.¡± Lunara clarified, her hand hovering over the candle.


    To Mathew¡¯s surprise, she placed a finger into the fire without being burned. Then, she proceeded to ¡®pluck¡¯ the flame from the candle like a petal from a flower. She held it up, still burning brightly between her fingers as if it were still attached to the candle.


    ¡°A Word of Power, as you call it, isn¡¯t a ¡®word¡¯ at all. It is a call to the Song of Creation. When you say ¡®Burn,¡¯ you aren¡¯t truly saying that word; you are asking the universe to create fire, or consume the object, or create a flame for light.¡±


    ¡°So many different meanings for a single word.¡± Lunara mused, holding the flame up to her face before blowing gently. The flickering flame was immediately extinguished. She looked down at Mathew with her dark, black eyes that lacked irises and Mathew was struck again by just how alien these Celestials were. How much power they had.


    They had never stepped foot inside the Tower, hadn¡¯t received their abilities from Blessings, or Disciplines, had never even made use of Aether aside from the crystal that they used to regain their physical forms.


    Yet this person in front of him was as strong as any Apostle that Mathew had ever met, as strong as anyone in the Tower.


    ¡°I will teach you our language, Mathew Larson, even if it takes you a thousand years. You will learn the true meaning of ¡®Burn,¡¯ along with ten thousand other words. Then, when you have learned the basics, you will join your voice with the Song of Creation.¡± Lunara promised, and Mathew shivered at the statement.


    He knew that he wouldn¡¯t be allowed to leave this place until she was satisfied with him.


    ¡°Now, let us continue. Use ¡®Burn¡¯ to create a flame on this candle. Study it, feel it. Understand everything about it. Entreat the Song of Creation to change our reality, to respond to your desire. Remember, you command this flame; it belongs to you. As its creator, it is yours to do with as you please.¡±


    ¡°How can this flame ever think to harm you?¡±

 Chapter 223 – Floor 39: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 223</u> ¨C Floor 39: Part 1


    Earth has been improperly integrated into the Tower of Avarice in this universe. The Towers never materialized, the connection between this universe and the gods is defective. Integration must be done in stages, the Floors divided into objectives.


    You will be responsible for this process, and Unyielding Declaration will be the reigning Deity of this universe. As you complete each objective, Earth will gradually integrate with the Tower culminating in the construction of a ¡®Prime Tower¡¯ to act as a focal point for assimilation.


    Multi-Floor Reward: Attribute bonuses, +4 to Body, +4 to mind, +4 to Spirit.


    Floor 39: Of Heroes and Villains (Multi-Floor Objective.)


    Decades ago, the Towers failed to materialize. Earth began to generate Aether with no deity to direct or absorb it. As a result, people of this world began to exhibit uncontrolled Aether Blessings, strange and unique Disciplines and enhanced Attributes with no direction from the Tower.


    As the Aether continued to flow freely without the Towers and the gods to guide them, humanity found itself changing. Those who were affected by the Aether found that it reflected their innermost self, leading to powers that were as unpredictable and as varied as the people who wielded them.


    This has resulted in those using Aether to be termed as ¡®Superhuman,¡¯ and divided into two types. Those who use their powers selfishly, for personal gain or at the expense of others, known as ¡®Villains,¡¯ and those who try to help the world and maintain order, known as ¡®Heroes.¡¯


    Outnumbered by those who chose to act as ¡®Villains,¡¯ Society created an organization of ¡®Heroes¡¯ to combat them. Unity of purpose was the only counter to villainy, and thus the ¡®League of Heroes,¡¯ was born.


    Those who sought membership would need to pass a series of tests and exams, working their way from the bottom ranks of Hero to the very top. D rank, C Rank, B Rank, A Rank, S Rank and finally, SS Rank.


    The Journey through the ranks is gruelling, but it fosters a deep sense of unity and purpose amongst Heroes. Each hero, no matter their rank, contributes to the League¡¯s mission: To protect society and uphold justice in a world where villainy constantly threatens to overwhelm it.


    Multi-Floor Objective: Reach the Top of SS Rank to gain legitimacy and build a ¡®Prime Tower¡¯ to connect this Earth to the Tower of Avarice.


    Current Floor Objective: Join the League of Heroes and achieve an initial Rank of ¡®D¡¯ or higher.


    Reward: Discipline ¡®Speaker¡¯ Level unlock.


    Walking down the street, Mathew felt the pulse of the city envelop him. The energy here was electric, a constant hum of activity that made his heart race. As he stepped onto the bustling sidewalk, the sound of honking horns, distant sirens and the chatter of countless voices surrounded him.


    The air was rich with aromas: the temping scent of food carts offering everything from hot dogs and pretzels to the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting from nearby cafes. There was a slight, cool breeze that made him draw his jacket tighter around his body.


    Mathew¡¯s eyes were drawn upward to the towering skyscrapers that stretched into the sky; their glass and steel facades reflected the bright afternoon light. Cheerful billboards and neon signs flashed above him, all attempting to promote various products or events.


    As he walked, Mathew navigated his way through throngs of people. There were commuters rushing to work, tourists snapping photos, and street performers captivating small audiences with their talents. A busker was playing a song on an acoustic guitar, collecting coins in a hat placed on the ground at his feet.


    The sidewalks felt crowded, but Mathew could feel that unspoken rhythm that helped everyone move swiftly and fluidly.


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    For Mathew, walking down a New York City street was a vibrant, ever-changing experience. It was a mosaic of sights, sounds and sensations, a tapestry crafted from millions of lives. He breathed it in, and for a moment, he felt like he was home.


    He had spent so long on the Celestial World, learning their language and how to control his abilities as a Speaker, that he had nearly forgotten what it was like to be human. He lost track of the days, the years, the decades since he had last been in a city.


    But, as he was about to falsely convince himself that he was in his New York, reality slapped him in the face. Looking up at a building, he saw a streak of colour. A man was flying through the air, weaving his way around the buildings.


    The man was chased a moment later by another, this one riding a trail of flames as he passed. Some amongst the crowd around him exclaimed and pointed, but most took it as a matter of fact and kept going about their day.


    Those who were impressed were tourists or visitors to the city who hadn¡¯t been exposed New York''s high density of Heroes and Villains.


    Mathew lowered his head and kept walking with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Reaching the corner of the street, he hailed a cab.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    As Mathew approached the League of Heroes headquarters, he took in The Sentinel Tower with a critical eye. The building where the League operated was tall, shiny and new, but to him, it felt more like a corporate office than a place where ¡®Superheroes¡¯ lived and worked.


    The sleek glass of the building reflected the bustling streets, and the front had a large sign proclaiming that it was the ¡®League of Heroes HQ ¨C A Bastion of Justice.¡¯ Mathew opened up the front door and walked in, reminded of the last time he had entered a Tower like this.


    Unlike the Tower of Avarice, the lobby of the Sentinel Tower had more than a single person waiting for him inside. Still, he looked around for a moment to see if he could spot a young woman in a grey business suit.


    When he didn¡¯t find her, he couldn¡¯t help but feel slightly disappointed.


    In the lobby of the Sentinel Tower, a group of other potential ¡®Hero¡¯ recruits milled about. Each of them had expressions of anticipation, nervousness and excitement. Mathew could feel the Aether and Mana within them to varying amounts, but the ¡®Buzz¡¯ didn¡¯t activate.


    Some were practicing their poses in front of the massive League emblem displayed on the wall, while others huddled in small groups discussing their training, or boasting about their deeds or skills. One was a very tall and muscular young man that was bragging about his strength while flexing his biceps.


    Another, a young woman, claimed to have a telekinetic ability and was demonstrating it by hovering a small coffee cup in the air next to her. As Mathew stood there, listening and taking in the conversation, he felt incredibly out of place.


    Unlike the others present, he wasn¡¯t here to be a hero. He was here to do a job, to complete a goal and move on to the next Floor. And, after his time with the Celestials, he honestly couldn¡¯t connect with anyone around him.


    He had spent so long in an alien world, and the years in the Tower before that he felt too different from the young men and women around him.


    Just then, a tall figure in an expensive suit entered the lobby, calling for attention. He was a middle-aged man with perfectly combed and cut hair, glasses and a look that just screamed ¡®Executive.¡¯ His jacket had the symbol of the league on it, as well as a name tag in silver.


    Mathew watched as the recruits straightened up, their faces lighting with a mix of hope and eagerness. He felt the energy shift in the room, but Mathew remained unaffected by it. He stood with a sense of detachment from the corner of the lobby as he listened to the recruiter.


    The Executive stepped forward and spoke, his voice commanding and loud so that everyone in the lobby could hear. His eyes scanned the crowd of recruits, a confident smile on his face.


    ¡°Welcome, everyone, to the League of Heroes!¡± He announced grandly.


    ¡°Today marks the beginning of a journey that will test your skills, resolve and commitment to protecting this great city and the world! I¡¯m Officer Tarek, and I¡¯ll be guiding you all through the recruitment process.¡± Tarek¡¯s voice had the causally ease of a long rehearsed speech, one that he must have delivered many times.


    ¡°The process will unfold in three stages. First, we¡¯ll conduct a test of your mana and Aether to ensure that you have adequate reserves for being a Hero. Unlike the next two tests, this one is pass or fail.¡± Tarek explained gravely.


    ¡°Then, we¡¯ll move on to the physical exam. This is where you¡¯ll demonstrate your physical abilities, your strength, agility and endurance. Just do your best, and don¡¯t worry if your talents lie somewhere else; you¡¯ll have your chance to shine in the third exam.¡± Tarek assured them, his eyes focusing on a few of the recruits who were clearly not physically adept.


    ¡°Finally, you¡¯ll have a chance to showcase your unique talents. Demonstrate the specific skills, special techniques, and abilities that you feel will make you a valuable addition to the League. Today is about your potential.¡±


    ¡°Some of you may feel that you are already at your peak, but I want you all to know, there is never a ceiling. There is always room for improvement. For those of you who may be worried that you won¡¯t make the cut, you might be surprised.¡±


    ¡°The city and the world need heroes! And maybe, just maybe, you¡¯ll be one of them!¡± Tarek finished, his voice echoing throughout the lobby. There was a small moment of silence before many of the recruits began to cheer.

 Chapter 224 – Floor 39: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 224</u> ¨C Floor 39: Part 2


    Officer Tarek brought the recruits through a series of corridors into another waiting room, this one with chairs, tables and other office d¨¦cor. A television was hung on one of the walls. It was playing a newscast of current events and Mathew idly watched it while they were brought to another room one by one for the first test.


    A large segment of the news discussed the local Heroes. Their activities and accomplishments were expected, but Mathew was surprised by the ¡®Gossip¡¯ section. Apparently Heroes and Villains in the this world were treated like celebrities.


    Mathew had just watched a segment where a reporter discussed how the Hero ¡®Blaze¡¯ had been spotted with ¡®Luminosity¡¯ on a date in central park when it was his turn to ¡®Test.¡¯ Following Officer Tarek through a door, he entered a small room where it was just him, the League Executive and a young woman in a lab coat.


    ¡°Please place your hand on the orb and it will read your current Aether and mana levels. There is no need to do anything else, your passive mana will be sufficient for this test.¡± The young woman said as she held a clipboard and gestured to the object in the center of the room.


    The ¡®Orb¡¯ sat atop a pedestal, a fusion of magical artifact and technology. It was about the size of a basketball, its surface smooth yet teeming with an intricate network of glowing runes. Wires ran from beneath the pedestal to a control panel on the wall that was displaying a series of indecipherable numbers and graphs.


    Mathew placed his hand on the Orb and a wave of cool energy swept up from his palm and into his body. It tried to draw out some of his mana, along with a trace of the Aether used to enhance his physical abilities and Mathew¡¯s first instinct was to resist.


    He did it subconsciously, reflexes honed from years of fighting, decades of survival and centuries of training with the Celestial had taught him that whenever an unknown energy tried to mess around with your insides, you fought back.


    Mathew drove the energy back into the orb without pausing to consider the ramifications. It was pure reaction, like twitching your hand away from fire when you get burned. He didn¡¯t even had time to think about it.


    For a moment, the Orb glowed brighter, bathing the entire room in a dark blue light that shifted in hues until it was pure white. Suddenly, an ominous crack echoed through the space. Mathew watched as the Orb¡¯s surface splintered, fissures spread like a spider¡¯s web across its exterior.


    Fragments of light burst out from the Orb, scattering in all directions and falling onto the floor. The Orb trembled violently on its pedestal as Mathew retracted his hand. Officer Tarek stood in stunned silence as the young woman gasped and her clipboard clattered onto the floor.


    ¡°No! It shouldn¡¯t do that!¡± She exclaimed, her eyes wide in shock and concern as she moved closer to the Orb and assessed the damage.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Mathew asked softly, feigning confusion. He knew exactly what had happened. His instinct to fight had destroyed this tool; it was obviously unable to withstand his mana.


    ¡°Was it defective?¡± Officer Tarek asked. They had been using it for over a dozen tests already today and nothing like this had happened before.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. We¡¯ll have to use the backup from upstairs storage. It should only take a few minutes.¡± The young woman replied, bending down to pick up her clipboard and making a few notes. Seeing that she wasn¡¯t going to offer more, Tarek turned to Mathew.


    ¡°You passed the first test. We didn¡¯t get an accurate measurement, but its enough to know that you have Aether and Mana. You can go back to the waiting room while we get this straightened away.¡± Tarek said.


    Returning to the waiting room, Mathew watched the testing resume after a brief delay. Of the dozens of recruits who had started with him, most came back. There were a few that clearly didn¡¯t make the cut, but overall there was a high pass rate.


    Once they had all completed the first test, they were taken to a new area to prepare for the next exam.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Mathew changed into the provided outfit, a black t-ship with the League symbol on the front, a pair of grey sweatpants and running shoes. He placed his own clothing into the locker provided and exited the change room.


    The second test took place in a sleek, high-tech arena designed to evaluate the physical capabilities of the aspiring heroes. As Mathew entered the gymnasium, he noted the layout of the area. There was a track that ringed the space, with weights and gymnastic equipment in the center.


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    A group of League Assessors were walking around the space, many holding clipboards, stopwatches or other objects to gauge the recruits abilities. As Mathew walked out of the changeroom, one of these assistants walked up to him.


    ¡°Mathew Larson?¡± He asked. He wore a track suit with the league emblem on the front and he had both a clipboard with an assessment form attached to it and a stop watch on a lanyard around his neck.


    ¡°That¡¯s me. What do you want me to do first?¡± Mathew replied as he looked around. The dozens of other recruits were all beginning their assessments at the same time. Some were lifting weights; others were running down the track.


    It wasn¡¯t hard for Mathew to spot those with superior physical attributes. One muscular young man was lifting more weight than all the others combined over his head while a young woman was lapping her competitors around the track.


    ¡°Follow me to the weight station, and we¡¯ll start with your strength assessment.¡± the assistant instructed, gesturing for Mathew to come along. Shrugging his shoulders, Mathew followed behind the assistant. He stretched his arms above his head as he did so.


    He had never been happier to have his leg fixed, and his Attributes returned. If he had attempted something like this before without relying on the Celestial Language, he would have failed miserably.


    As it stood right now, Mathew wasn¡¯t sure if he was stronger or faster than those around him, but he certainly had more experience.


    Mathew followed the assistant to the weight station, where an array of barbell racks and weight plates waited for him. The clang of metal filled the air as the other recruits lifted and dropped weights. Mathew reviewed what he remembered from his time in the gym as he walked toward the weights.


    His memory from before the Tower was hazy at best, and his lack of experience must have shown because the assistant went out of his way to explain what to do.


    ¡°Here¡¯s how it works: you¡¯ll perform a series of lifts and I¡¯ll record the results of everything. This test is about overall strength, not endurance, so only your highest weight will be recorded, not your reps. You can work your way up to your limit if you like.¡± The Assistant assured him.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t needed to do this sort of thing for a long time. How about you set the weights you think are fair to start with and I¡¯ll go from there?¡± Mathew asked, looking at the array of equipment in front of him. He had been without his attributes for awhile, and he didn¡¯t exactly know what his physical limits were.


    He knew the Wrathful Blade was heavy, but he had never measured it.


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± The Assistant replied. The assessment began easily enough, with Mathew barely feeling anything. By the time it was over, he was lifting enough weight that he was among the top of the recruits. Even the muscular young man who had been showing off his biceps looked impressed.


    ¡°That¡¯s good, I have all I need. Nice work.¡± The Assistant said, marking off the last note. Mathew let the eight hundred pounds of weight hit the ground and noticed that the barbell was bent. He hadn¡¯t been at his limit, not quite, but it was enough for now.


    He just needed to pass the assessment; as long as he did so, then the rest didn¡¯t really matter.


    Mathew ran around the track dozens of times while the assistant timed him with the stopwatch. While not the fastest around, Mathew kept pace with the others, and the assistant remarked that his speed and endurance were well above average for the recruits.


    Satisfied, Mathew returned to his locker to shower and change back into his regular clothes. When he was ready, he followed the assistants back to the gymnasium for the final assessment. Officer Tarek was waiting for them, along with a half dozen other Executives from the League.


    Mathew and the remaining recruits stood in a line at the edge of the track. The gym equipment had all been removed, and an open space had been made for them to demonstrate their skills and abilities.


    ¡°Well done, recruits.¡± Officer Tarek began his voice firm and commanding.


    ¡°The final test is an opportunity for you to demonstrate your abilities and skills. Each of you will have a chance to showcase your specific talents, whether it¡¯s combat skills, elemental manipulation, or agility. When your name is called, please step forward.¡± Tarek finished while the other Executives waited patiently for the show to begin.


    The recruits stood in front of the Executives, and tension was palpable in the air. Each one of them had trained for this moment, had worked had to get to a point where they could impress the League and become Heroes.


    All except Mathew, who was wondering what type of Word of Power he would use to join the League. He didn¡¯t want to destroy the facility they were in, but he also needed to make a good impression.


    ¡°First up, Sarah!¡± Officer Tarek called out. A young woman stepped forward, wearing a bright red jacket and jeans. She took a deep breath and stretched out her hands. With a flick of her wrist, flames erupted into life around her, dancing in sync with her movements.


    The flames formed animals; an eagle soared above her before it shifted into a deer. After a few minutes, she let the flames fade away.


    ¡°Impressive.¡± Tarek congratulated her, nodding in approval. He gestured for her to return to the line before calling out the next recruit.


    ¡°Amber!¡±


    Amber moved around the gymnasium with fluid grace, demonstrating her agility as she leapt into the air. She did multiple flips, landing on her feet with cat-like grace. She finished off her performance by turning into a blur of movement, her extreme speed making it difficult for even Mathew to keep track of where she was.


    ¡°Good, good!


    One after another, the recruits went forward and performed until it was finally Mathew¡¯s turn. With one hand in his pocket, he walked forward and pointed at Tarek.


    ¡°Shift.¡¯ He commanded in the Celestial Language, swapping places with the Executive. In a blink of an eye, everyone had been switched. Before they could exclaim in shock, they were all back in their own places as if nothing had happened.


    ¡°Is¡­is there anything else? Tarek asked with a tone of confusion, almost like he didn¡¯t know if he had imagined it.


    ¡°I can do a few more things.¡± Mathew said with a shrug before returning to his spot.


    When the exams were over and he was making his way to the lobby, he wasn¡¯t surprised to find that a League Registration card was waiting for him.


    Mathew Larson: Rank ¡®D¡¯ Hero ¨C Unnumbered.


    ¡®Ding!¡¯

 Chapter 225 – Floor 40: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 225</u> ¨C Floor 40: Part 1


    Foor 40: Of Heroes and Villains (Part 2)


    You have gained some small amount of legitimacy by joining the League of Heroes. As a Rank ¡®D¡¯ hero, you do not have the credibility or influence to build the ¡®Prime Tower.¡¯


    Goal: Obtain Rank ¡®C¡¯ within one months time.


    Reward: +1 Level of ¡®Speaker¡¯ Discipline.


    Mathew lowered the silver wristband on his arm as he read the message there. He had gained the ability to level ¡®Speaker¡¯ allowing him to increase his Attributes and heal his wounds for the first time in dozens of Floors.


    He just lacked the Aether.


    Mathew could sense the Aether around him, waiting to be collected by completing the goals the Tower assigned him. He instinctively knew that by performing heroic deeds in this world, he would accumulate some Aether to spend in the Shop and potentially on levels.


    Looking around for a moment, Mathew began to walk down the street to a building the League had directed him to that would provide him housing for as long as he was a member. As a Rank ¡®D¡¯ hero, it wouldn¡¯t be much but at least it was close to the heart of the city and the people at the HQ would know where to contact him.


    Higher ranked heroes would have better lodgings, some were even in the headquarters themselves. They would also be called upon when needed. Without having the necessary experience, Mathew was told that it would be up to him to prove himself by assisting other heroes or finding ways to contribute on his own.


    Tired after a long day, Mathew entered his assigned room that was similar to a hotel just down the street. After showering and getting something to eat from the restaurant downstairs, he returned to his room to sleep.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    After a restful night, Mathew work to the gentle light filtering through the curtains. He stretched, feeling rejuvenated, and decided to grab breakfast from a nearby corner shop he¡¯d spotted the night before. The League had given him a card for expenses, with a pitifully low limit to reflect his Rank ¡®D¡¯ Unnumbered status.


    The aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods wafted through the air as he stepped inside the caf¨¦, the small space bustling with morning customers all getting something to eat and drink before work. Mathew ordered a steaming cup of coffee and a toasted bagel before finding a spot by the window of the shop.


    While enjoying his breakfast, Mathew watched the people passing by on the street, and a sudden commotion caught his attention. A hooded figure was running down the street, weaving their way through the crowd while they clutched a purse in their arms.


    A woman was screaming in the distance and pointing, while a police officer was already in pursuit.


    ¡®A purse snatcher.¡¯ Mathew thought as he set down his coffee and pointed out the window.


    ¡°Shift.¡± He commanded, switching places with a bystander on the street. The confused pedestrian, an older woman in a business suit, suddenly appeared in the caf¨¦ while Mathew replaced her just ahead of the hood figure.


    Casually, he pointed at the thief and spoke the Celestial Language once again.


    ¡°Halt.¡± He ordered, using one of the many new words that he had learned during his time training with the Celestials.


    As Mathew spoke the Word of Power, a wave of energy surged through him, radiating outward. An oppressive force descended onto the thief, settling onto their body like a weight. The thief halted abruptly, the force pressing down on them, preventing them from moving an inch.


    While the Police Officer ran toward them, Mathew plucked the purse from the frozen thief¡¯s hands and tossed it to the officer. Slightly taken aback by the sudden turn of events, the uniformed cop caught the purse awkwardly.


    ¡°Thanks. Hero?¡± The officer asked. After Mathew nodded and showed his identification card, the police officer took the thief away while promising to let the League know of his help. Mathew returned to the caf¨¦ to find that his coffee had been removed by the employees who had thought he was done.


    Reordering, he sat back in the same place to enjoy it.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The Villain ¡®Brutus¡¯ loomed in the center of Silverstone National Bank, a monstrous figure whose presence turned the atmosphere of the lobby into a suffocating shroud of dread. Standing over eight feet tall, he was a manifestation of raw, unyielding power.


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    His muscles rippled beneath his tattered grey hood and oversized sweatpants; the clothing could barely contain his mass as each movement threatened to rip apart the material.


    The air was thick with tension, punctuated by blaring alarms that echoed through the lobby, but Brutus reveled in the chaos. He was unstoppable, he was invincible!


    He had personally killed over a dozen Heroes, some of them ¡®A¡¯ Class, and the League had often overlooked his actions unless they had people capable of stopping him available. The last time they had brought an ¡®S¡¯ class but the risk to civilians had been too great and he had managed to escape through the sewers before they could get reinforcements.


    Panic surged through the crowd of customers and Bank employees as Brutus smashed his way through the thick concrete walls, a metal gate and reached the vault. He hoisted the heavy vault onto his shoulder with an almost casual motion. The safe was as large as a car and the metal groaned under the strain, but Brutus carried it as if it were nothing more than a ornament.


    The sight of the Villain walking his way out of the Bank with the safe was both terrifying and, in a way, awe-inspiring.


    A faint, otherworldly glow shimmered across Brutus¡¯ skin, the mana inside him intertwined with his muscles, amplifying his strength and granting him abilities that surpassed human limitations. Each step he took sent tremors through the ground.


    Outside, the wail of sirens began to fade, the sounds of law enforcement being given the order to back off after receiving a report of who they were up against. They would just be giving up their lives for nothing if they faced Brutus without a Hero.


    A wicked grin spread across his rugged face as Brutus imagined the havoc he was about to unleash. It wasn¡¯t about the money; he could really just take whatever you wanted without it. It was the chaos that he thrived on.


    His heart raced with exhilaration at the thought of who the League would send against him. Maybe he would finally have a chance at fighting a ¡®SS,¡¯ although there were only three in the Eastern United States, and he wasn¡¯t sure if any were in New York at the moment.


    With the sound of retreating sirens fading into the distance, Brutus stepped outside, the cool air hitting his skin. He paused outside, invigorated by the thought of the coming battle. The streets were filled with screams as people were running away, the police were directing them to evacuate.


    Brutus revelled in it. He could imagine the headlines that would soon be displayed on the television screens and billboards throughout the city. Brutus Strike Again: Is any Hero a Match for him? The notoriety thrilled him and he considered it a badge of honour.


    Standing in the middle of the street, the pavement cracking under his weight, he hefted the vault above his head and slammed it down. The force of the blow sent shockwaves through the street, and windows of buildings all around him exploded into fragments of glass.


    He let out a roar, a primal scream of anger and excess energy. He could feel the desire to fight and unleash violence swelling within him and he was nearly desperate for an outlet.


    ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you a big one.¡± A voice said, cutting through the silence that had descended after his yell ended. Brutus turned to look down the street, where a young man was casually walking in the center of the road.


    He was handsome and thin, with pale, perfect skin and a handsome face. Wearing jeans and a black jacket, he looked completely unaffected by the panic that had gripped the surroundings. Brutus didn¡¯t recognize him, which meant that if the young man was a Hero, he wasn¡¯t a high-ranked one.


    ¡°Send me someone worthy!¡± Brutus roared. Picking up the vault with both hands, Brutus hurled it toward the young man. The safe was large enough that, to the young man, it must have seen like it was blotting out the sun.


    Brutus grinned in anticipation of flattening this cocky bastard into a paste. Maybe if people saw how strong he was and how ready he was to kill, they would send him an ¡®SS¡¯ hero.


    The young man calmly watched the safe arc into the air, its metallic frame making a ¡®whooshing¡¯ noise as it sailed above him. He slowly raised his right hand and pointed at it.


    ¡°Slow.¡±


    The word sounded strange to Brutus, as if it wasn¡¯t coming from the young man¡¯s mouth but from the world around him. It vibrated through the air, and, to his shock, the vault¡¯s descent slowed to a crawl. It was as if time itself obeyed the young man¡¯s command.


    Brutus watched the safe slowly descend until it nearly reached the young man, who nonchalantly stepped out of the way. The vault came to rest on the ground without damaging it at all.


    ¡°Alright, come quietly to the police station.¡± The young man instructed Brutus, clearly expecting to be obeyed.


    Brutus was flabbergasted, shocked that someone would talk to him like that. He was Brutus! He was the strongest. He was invincible. He would be the first to kill a ¡®SS¡¯ Hero!


    Anger flared up in him, white-hot in its intensity. His vision turned red, and before he knew it, he was sprinting toward the young man. Raising his hands into the air, he clenched his fists in preparation for annihilating this arrogant prick!


    Instead of looking concerned, or fearful, or shocked like Brutus expected, the young man shook his head sadly. He raised his hand and pointed at Brutus.


    ¡°Heavy.¡± The young man said, and Brutus felt a weight settle onto his body that was many times greater than the bank vault had been. His knees buckled, and he felt his feet break through the pavement. Each step was agony, and soon he was buried into the ground up to his waist.


    Seeing that he wasn¡¯t about to stop, the young man spoke another word.


    ¡°Light.¡±


    Brutus felt weightless, and a new sense of buoyancy lifted him up out of the ground. He began to tumble and spin as he was plucked out of the pavement and earth and sent careening into the air. He tried to grab onto anything around him, but he couldn¡¯t reach it.


    ¡°Ready to surrender yet?¡± The young man called out, and Brutus¡¯ reply was a mix of angry words and curses. His tirade echoed off the walls of the buildings around him as he slowly began to rise higher into the air.


    ¡°That¡¯s too bad. I¡¯ll just leave you here until you¡¯re ready.¡± The young man called out, already turning around and walking toward the police cars in the distance. When they returned with a special containment vehicle designed to hold him, they found Brutus hanging in the air where the young man had left him.

 Chapter 226 – Floor 40: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 226</u> ¨C Floor 40: Part 2


    Elena walked through the sleek lobby of the League of Heroes headquarters, the hum of activity swirling around her. She clutched a stack of papers tightly, the crisp edges of the folder containing them dug into her palms.


    Before she could react, someone stepped in front of her and she dropped the folder. Papers spread across the ground and she scrambled to pick them up. She apologized as she did so, only to realize that the person she had accidently struck was helping her.


    ¡°In a hurry?¡± Officer Tarek asked, the Executive looked amused that she had walked into him. Elena glanced up from the papers, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry! I didn¡¯t see you there.¡± She exclaimed as she snatched the last of the papers off the ground and placed them back in the folder.


    ¡°No harm done. I think we could both use a little more attention to our surroundings.¡± He said, his handsome face smiling down at her. She noticed that his dark uniform contrasted sharply with the bright colour of the lobby, drawing attention to him.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± She stammered.


    ¡°What¡¯s got you so worked up?¡± Tarek asked with curiosity. He looked at the few papers in his hand as he held them out to her. A Rank ¡®D¡¯ certification card was on the front, with a description that looked to have come from this person¡¯s initial Hero assessment.


    Tarek didn¡¯t have a chance to see before the papers left his hand.


    ¡°I have to deliver a new certification, and I¡¯ve been assigned to do a reassessment.¡± Elena explained as she took the papers from Tarek and arranged them carefully in the folder with the others.


    ¡°Oh? That¡¯s pretty standard, nothing to get excited about.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, I¡¯m just a little nervous I guess. I want to make sure I get things correct.¡± Elena said, before gripping the folder in her hands tighter and walking out of the lobby. Tarek watched her leave before shaking his head and getting back to work.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    Elena rushed out of the Headquarters and down the road to where the lower ranked heroes were lodged. Checking the file to confirm she had the right room, she rode the elevator to the correct floor and sped down the hallway.


    She had begged her boss for the opportunity to cover this file, as a Junior Assistant it could be her chance for a promotion! Coming to the right door, she hurriedly knocked while making sure her brown hair were still tied back in a ponytail without anything out of place.


    She checked her cloths, a tailored white blouse and dark pants, before nervously checking the folder once again. This Hero had been the one to capture ¡®Brutus¡¯ the day before, meaning he was clearly a cut above the rest.


    After waiting for a minute, she was bout to knock again when the door opened.


    Mathew Larson looked at her from inside, and she felt her heart beat rapidly. Incredibly handsome, he had an athletic appearance accentuated by a black jacket, white shirt and jeans. His hair was long and dark, curling slightly past his ears.


    She could smell him, a spicy scent that she associated with Heroes and the Aether inside them that powered their superhuman abilities. Elena was one of the only people at the Association that could detect it just by being near them.


    ¡°You¡¯re from the Association?¡± Mathew asked, gesturing for her to enter the room. She was surprised by the reaction. Had he been expecting her?


    ¡°How did you know?¡± Elena asked, only for Mathew to point at her lapel.


    A League pin was clearly displayed there, and she flushed red in embarrassment. Of course a Hero would take in all the details of a person, and someone in Mathew¡¯s position would have been expecting someone from the League after his performance the day before.


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    ¡°I¡¯m Elena Martin, Junior Assistant for the League of Heroes. I¡¯m here to give you this.¡± She said, taking a card from the folder in her hands and holding it out to Mathew. He took it immediately as she continued speaking.


    ¡°And I¡¯m here to inform you that I have been assigned to your file. I¡¯ll be conducting your promotion assessments, and providing assistance to your activities. I would have told you this over the phone, but you didn¡¯t leave a contact number.¡± Elena explained.


    Mathew shrugged and flipped the card over as he read it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a phone. This says Rank ¡®D.¡¯ Why did I need a new card?¡± Mathew asked, tossing it on the table in his room before taking a seat.


    ¡°You have been assigned a number, meaning you are officially a Rank ¡®D¡¯ Hero. You¡¯re numbered 4376<sup>th</sup>  in Rank ¡®D¡¯.¡±  Elena clarified, taking a seat opposite Mathew at the table and opening up her folder to make a note about his lack of a cell phone.


    ¡°The number refers to your specific ranking in ¡®D.¡¯ In the event that you are called upon to act with other Heroes, the higher number is in command of the scene. Also, when the League receives information regarding a criminal act or emergency, we may limit action to those of a certain Letter and Number Rank.¡± Elena finished.


    ¡°Do you have any information for me now?¡± Mathew asked, only to see Elena shake her head.


    ¡°Not that I¡¯m aware of. Wait ¨C Where are you going?¡± Elena asked as Mathew stood up and began to walk to the door.


    ¡°I was just on my way out for something to eat, then I¡¯ll wander around and see if anything pops up. Feel free to tag along, if you want.¡± Mathew replied, leaving Elena to scramble to gather her things and follow along.


    <u>Page Break </u>


    ¡°I am AcidFang!¡±


    The monster stood twelve feet high and weighed more than a thousand pounds of muscle and fat. Its skin was scaled like a snake, with a sickly green hue discoloured by patches of brown. Each breath it took echoed like thunder.


    It wide, gaping maw revealed sharp, jagged teeth that glistened with corrosive saliva that dripped to the ground, sizzling on contact with the pavement. Its eyes were sunken and glowed a menacing yellow as it fixed on the police cars and Heroes around it.


    ¡°I will cleanse this world of its weakness!¡± AcidFang roared as the ground trembled beneath the weight of its body. With a single breath, AcidFang sent a torrent of acidic venom from its mouth, creating a hissing cloud that ate away at everything in its path.


    Several police cars immediately corroded, the paint peeled away, and their metal frames melted. A few unfortunate officers turned into pools of liquid in an instant, and even the Heroes weren¡¯t immune. Before they could escape, one Rank ¡®D¡¯ wearing a red costume with flames on it tried to stop the acid cloud by burning it away but was soon devoured.


    Acid Fang leaped into the air and landed beside the remains, lapping them up with its tongue. It could feel the Aether within the blood and remnants. AcidFang¡¯s body burned with new power and it grew several inches taller as its strength was enhanced.


    Elena watched from the corner of a building down the street as AcidFang destroyed another car, sending it crashing into a building with a flick of its clawed hand. She had been following Mathew down the street when they had heard sirens.


    From the League¡¯s files, AcidFang was a Class ¡®C¡¯ Villain, requiring several Rank C Heroes to subdue. These Rank ¡®D¡¯ Heroes should retreat and wait for back up!


    ¡®Rank C ¨C Local Menace. Villains that can create chaos at a community level.¡¯ Elena thought, reviewing the description in her head from her recollections.


    Approaching the monster, Mathew had told her to stay there as he walked down the street toward the Villain. He didn¡¯t seem concerned about the monster; he walked with self-assurance and even had one hand in the pocket of his jeans.


    Elena winced when AcidFang saw the young man coming toward it.


    ¡°Another brave soul! Come, Hero! Face AcidFang!¡± The Villain boasted, and Mathew couldn¡¯t help but scoff at the words. Compared to the demons, devils and monsters he had faced on past Floors, the Villains of this world were full of themselves.


    AcidFang, seeing his words had no effect on the young Hero, breathed out another cloud of acidic breath. The pavement turned pitted and began to bubble, and the streetlights and cars began to dissolve. Long before it reached Mathew, he had raised his hand and pointed.


    ¡°Shield.¡±


    A transparent bubble formed around him, keeping the acidic breath away. AcidFang seemed shocked by the strange power that Mathew had revealed, and, to Elena¡¯s disgust, it vomit a green glob of liquid into its hand and threw it toward Mathew.


    The green liquid struck Mathew¡¯s barrier with a wet ¡®splat¡¯ and left a streak as it fell to the ground and dissolved a hole into the pavement.


    ¡°I am AcidFang! I am the Strongest!¡± AcidFang roared, and Elena clapped her hands over her ears at the deafening noise. She couldn¡¯t believe someone so far away could be so loud!


    Mathew, his hand still raised and pointed at AcidFang, responded with another word.


    ¡°Combust!¡±


    There was a flash of intense light, like someone turning on a light in a dark room without warning, and then turning it off once again. Elena saw AcidFang, its body was whole and threatening in appearance, and it changed in an instant. It fell to the ground in pieces, its upper body wiped from existence.


    It took a second before the shockwave and sound reached her, and the force of it pushed her off her feet. As she sat on the ground, her ears ringing and the afterimage of the light in her eyes, she thought about Mathew¡¯s assessment.


    It was clear to her that he needed to be reassessed immediately.

 Chapter 227 – Floor 40: Part 3

    <u>Chapter 227</u> ¨C Floor 40: Part 3


    The abandoned warehouse towered like a relic of a lost age, its shattered windows cast long shadows across the concrete ground. Weeds grew from the cracks in the floor and rats scurried at the edge of the light created by the evening sun.


    Lumina stood at the entrance, her golden glow piercing the darkness that lingered in the corners of the building. From a distance, a person could think that the Hero was the sun itself, descended from the sky to fight the night.


    She radiated beauty, her presence enhanced by the soft glow of the golden light that surrounded her. Her long, flowing hair shimmered like sunlight, cascading down her back and occasionally flickering with vibrant hues.


    Lumina was dressed in a sleek, form-fitting suit that appeared to be woven from threads of light. It was shift colours with her movements, changing from bright yellow, to blazing orange and fiery red.


    ¡°Shade!¡± Lumina shouted at the darkness, her voice echoing off the warehouse walls. The Hero was aware that her adversary was here, the League had transmitted his location to her phone only a few minutes ago.


    They were never wrong.


    A low, sinister laugh reverberated throughout the building, coming from all around her. Shade emerged from the darkness, shrouded in shadow that warped and twisted around him as if it were alive. His skin was pale, almost ghostly.


    But it was his eyes that were most unsettling. They were a deep, unnatural black with hints of red. Shade wore a long, flowing cloak as dark as the night. As he moved toward her, he seemed to fade in and out of existence, merging with the darkness.


    ¡°Ah, Lumina. You were always so predicable. I send out a call to the League and you come running. No backup? No ¡®S¡¯ Class babysitter following behind you to keep you safe?¡± Shade taunted.


    Lumina stiffened at the insult and the light flared around her in reaction to her emotions.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need back up to deal with you, Shade. The Light never fears the Darkness!¡± Lumina replied, her tone filled with pride.


    Shade scoffed at the proclamation and began to laugh mockingly. With a flick of his wrist, shadows slithered across the floor, coiling around Lumina¡¯s feet like serpents. She responded by summoning a shimmering shield of light that deflected the darkness with a burst of brilliance.


    With a shout, the eruption of light burned away the shadows and Shade stumbled back several steps. No longer laughing, he slowly raised both of his arms over his head. Like a wave, the shadows behind him surged forward.


    Snapping his fingers, the wave of darkness separated and morphed into tendrils that shot forward and wrapped their way around Lumina¡¯s shield of light, draining its energy. She let out a gasp and stumbled forward a step.


    It felt like Shade was sapping away her very essence, and a coldness slowly crept its way up her arms from where she was holding the barrier in place. Shade, regaining his arrogance, sauntered his way toward Lumina.


    ¡°Do you feel that? The light fading? That¡¯s your hope slipping away!¡± Shade hissed gleefully. He had been looking forward to the conclusion of their conflict for years, since they had both been Class ¡®D¡¯ heroes. Until he learned that being a Villain was far more profitable.


    Straining, Lumina pushed back against the darkness. Her shield flickered slightly before flaring to life once more, momentarily illuminating the entire warehouse around them. Shade flinched from the golden glow and shielded his eyes with his hand.


    ¡°Why won¡¯t you just die!¡± Shade screamed madly. The darkness, driven to the corners of the warehouse roiled and bubbled. Responding to his call, they burst forth once again and slammed against the barrier of light.


    ¡°Do you think you can defeat the darkness! We¡¯re both Class ¡®A,¡¯ Lumina. It was foolish to come here by yourself. But don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll make sure the League knows what happened to you. Maybe I¡¯ll pin your corpse to the walls of their Headquarters. I know how much you love attention, you¡¯ll be worldwide news!¡± Shade sneered, his madness slipping into his speech.


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    Lumina staggered and fell to one knee. The barrier of light flickered and faded like the dying, evening sun.


    ¡°Light will always prevail!¡± Lumina spat out, her voice strained. She tried to regain her feet, to find some small shred of strength within her, but there was nothing left. Shade was relentless.


    Seeing that she was on the edge of defeat, he summoned a vortex of shadows that twisted and howled as it sped across the floor. The shadows enveloped Lumina, clawing at her. The shadows whispered to her, giving voice to her doubts and fears.


    It was a hint of the madness that lurked within Shade¡¯s mind.


    ¡°Give up, Lumina. You know how this ends.¡± Shade whispered eagerly. He could already imagine the things he would do to her, each more unpleasant than the last.


    ¡°I.. won¡¯t!¡± Lumina managed to say, fighting against the pain and the darkness. Covered in blood, her vision was beginning to fade when she heard someone speak from behind her.


    ¡°Sanctuary.¡±


    A swirling tempest of energy drove back the shadows that Shade had summoned, freeing Lumina. A crystalline shield materialized around her, shimmering with rainbow light. With a powerful hum, the shield expanded, wrapping her in its protective energies.


    Lumina felt cut off from the world around her, as if nothing could penetrate the barrier that kept her safe. She turned around to get a better look at her saviour.


    A young man was slowly walking toward them from the entrance to the warehouse. Handsome, with long, dark hair, he was dressed casually and not in a Hero costume as she had expected. He was nonchalant about walking into danger, with a hand in the pocket of his jeans.


    A young woman tentatively walked behind him, her entire expression showed how terrified and nervous she was to be here. Lumina recognized her from the League.


    ¡®What is Elena doing here with a Hero?¡¯ Lumina thought in confusion. Elena was a junior Executive who was often matched with newly recruited, low ranked heroes to guide them in their first few months.


    ¡°Another na?ve hero thinking he can save the day? Pathetic. Don¡¯t you know that I¡¯m the Class ¡®A¡¯ Villain, Shade!¡± Shade screamed, thinking that the young man had no idea what he was dealing with. How dare he interfere just when he was about to finish with Lumina!


    The young man looked at Shade, shrugged his shoulder, and turned his attention back to Lumina.


    ¡°You alright?¡± He asked, not concerned at all by Shade¡¯s shouting.


    ¡°You need to leave! Elena, you should know who Shade is, a new hero can¡¯t fight him!¡± Lumina called out to Elena, who was shaking her head while staring at the Villain with wide-open eyes.


    Shade focused his attention on Elena for a moment before he noticed the symbol on the front of her jacket. His eyes narrowed instantly.


    ¡°You¡¯re a League Executive. Come to bring a new Class ¡®A¡¯ hero to fight me?¡± Shade asked, his tone hard and Elena trembled harder in fear as she could see the shadows coiling and moving menacingly behind the Villain.


    ¡°Class ¡®D.¡¯¡± The young man replied, his focus finally on the Villain standing before him. Shade stiffened at the statement, shocked, before he burst out laughing.


    ¡°Class ¡®D¡¯ and you think you can fight me?! Your little shield is more pathetic than Luminas. Normally, I would kill you slowly, but I want to concentrate on Lumina. Goodbye.¡± Shade said, nonchalantly gesturing toward the young man.


    The shadows surged behind him, coiling up to form a massive, serpentlike creature of darkness. Its form was so massive that it nearly touched the ceiling of the warehouse. It shot forward, its mouth open to devour the young man standing in front of it.


    ¡°Light.¡±


    The young man pointed at the approaching monster and spoke a single word. A tiny pinprick of light formed in the air in front of him, flickering like a white ember cast from a fire. It seemed to be on the edge of being snuffed out.


    It flittered through the air toward the monster, its motions uneven and erratic. The shadow monster swallowed the ember of light as it swept forward to consume the young man.


    The resulting explosion of light was far beyond anything Lumina had ever seen. Its pure white intensity made the sun look like a candle in comparison. No shadows were capable of resisting its radiance. Shade, bereft of the darkness that powered his abilities, collapsed onto the ground.


    Panting, he desperately tried to regain his strength as the light slowly faded away.


    ¡°You can control shadows? That¡¯s a nice trick. I can do something similar. Do you want to see?¡± The young man asked as he walked forward. Standing in front of Shade, he looked down at the Villain while he waited for an answer.


    ¡°We¡¯re nothing alike!¡± Shade spat out, baffled at how the young man in front of him crushed his shadow creature so easily. The young man smiled and shook his head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be like that, think of this as a game. You attacked, and I countered it, so now it''s my turn. Tell you what, if you can counter it, I¡¯ll stop, and you can leave.¡± The young man said, and Shade shivered at the words.


    He didn¡¯t know why, but the young man in front of him was suddenly terrifying.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t want-¡± Shade stammered; his only thought was that he needed to get away.


    ¡°Sure you do. Alright, here we go.¡± The young man said as he took a stepped back and raised his hands above his head.


    ¡°A Starless Night.¡±


    When the police arrived later to take Shade into custody, they found the Villain curled onto the ground, his arms wrapped around his legs as he slowly rocked back and forth. Elena, who had seen what Mathew could do over the course of a day, didn¡¯t even blink at the fact that he took down a Class ¡®A¡¯ Villain.


    And Lumina, released from the protective barrier, stared at the young man and only had a single thought. She was witnessing the birth of an ¡®SS¡¯ Class Hero.

 Chapter 228 – Floor 41: Part 1

    <u>Chapter 228</u> ¨C Floor 41: Part 1


    Floor 41 ¨C Objective: Reach Rank ¡®B¡¯


    In an opulent dining room of a Mansion in the wealthiest part of New York City, shielded from the public by an iron fence, superhuman guards and adequate bribes to the most influential of the city¡¯s officials, the notable members of the New York Branch of the League of Villains were meeting to discuss recent events.


    The flickering light from a roaring fireplace cast long shadows across the plush carpet, velvet drapes and polished wooden furnishings and drove away the evening chill. The room was adorned with works of art, stolen from museums or private collections from all across the world.


    A gathering of men and women were seated around a large, mahogany table. Wearing various costumes and outfits, they were an eclectic group that would be out of place anywhere but especially so in this wealthy environment.


    At the very head of the table sat the Branch Leader, an ¡®S¡¯ Class villain. Obsidian was known for her unmatched intellect and ruthless ambition. She wore a black gown that glimmered with specks of reflecting light from the fireplace like twinkling stars. Her dark hair framed a sharp face with piercing green eyes that carefully judged everyone in attendance.


    No one dared meet that gaze.


    ¡°We are missing one of our number. Where is Shade?¡± Obsidian asked, her eyes sweeping over the others. A few flinched and looked away, only the Class ¡®A¡¯ Villains were willing to speak.


    ¡°The fool is has been caught. We will need to adjust our plans.¡± The man to her right said, the only one willing to speak. Dr. Malevolence was a towering figure in a tailored black suit. He leaned forward in his chair with his elbows on the table and his fingers steepled beneath his chin.


    He was handsome, but a long scar on his right cheek detracted from his appearance.


    Across the table from him, Lady Vortex spun a lock of her bright purple hair in her fingers. Her skin-tight suit was a combination of neon colours, eye-wateringly bright pinks, purples and blues that showed off her athletic figure.


    ¡°No biggie, I can go grab him. It¡¯s only a prison.¡± Lady Vortex said, shrugging her shoulder indifferently. Her casual attitude was a stark contrast to the seriousness of the room around her.


    Next to her, The Puppeteer tapped his slender finger against the hard table top. He was deathly gaunt, his sunken cheeks and yellow teeth gave him a horrible ugly appearance. He wore a tattered cloak made of different patches of colour that he collected from the clothing of his victims.


    ¡°Dead, preferably. He will be less trouble that way. A corpse has more use to me.¡± He recommended. Everyone here knew exactly how he made his puppets.


    At the far end of the table, the Titaness shifted her weight slightly, causing the reinforced and enlarged chair she occupied to creak alarmingly. Towering at over eight feet in height, her muscular frame was on display to everyone in the room. Her only attempt at modesty were thin strips of cloth that covered a few sensitive areas.


    Her deep, gravelly voice rumbled throughout the room.


    ¡°The weak should be abandoned. We do not require someone who would so easily be captured.¡± The Titaness stated.


    ¡°And by a Class ¡®D,¡¯ no less.¡± A high-pitched voice said.


    Ironclad¡¯s electronic and strange voice didn¡¯t match his formidable appearance. Larger than even the Titaness, he wore an exosuit of advanced alloys. It was imposing and gave him the strength and endurance of a tank.


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    The black suit had red accents and his helmet completely obscured his face. No one had even been able to see what lay beneath it, making many speculate that he was a robot. Whether he was man or machine, Ironclad was one of the few Villains to be directly awarded the rank of Class ¡®A.¡¯


    ¡°Explain.¡± Obsidian ordered, her eyes turning to the last remaining member of the Class ¡®A¡¯ at the table. Ghost sat opposite of Obsidian, her pale face and white hair giving her an ethereal appearance. The League of Villains master of espionage, she was capable of enter the League of Heroes undetected and was responsible for gathering all of their information.


    To everyone in the room, Ghost appeared to be wearing clothing made out of grey mist, obscuring her form.


    ¡°Shade was in conflict with Lumina, and nearly had her subdued when a newly recruited Class ¡®D¡¯ interfered with the battle. I was unable to see anything that happened after, this Hero possesses some unknown ability to block my sight. I only know that when I could see again, Shade was incoherent.¡± Ghost explained, her voice drifting across the room.


    ¡°I would advise against rescuing Shade. By all accounts, he has been rendered useless to our needs.¡± Dr. Malevolence recommended.


    ¡°Who is this new Hero that would dare take on a member of our Branch? Shade is no bargain basement Rogue out to make a quick dollar. I would match him against several of the League¡¯s weaker Class ¡®S¡¯ Heroes.¡± Obsidian inquired.


    ¡°Mathew Larson. I have no information about him. He doesn¡¯t appear to have existed prior to joining the League. That in and of itself isn¡¯t unusual; many heroes purge their identities prior to joining the League. What makes him unique is that I am unable to ascertain the limits of his mana or the extent of his abilities.¡± Dr. Malevolence explained.


    ¡°He has been instrumental in the capture of Class ¡®C¡¯ Brutus, Class ¡®B¡¯ AcidFang and Class ¡®A¡¯ Shade. All within two days of joining the League of Heroes.¡± Ghost added.


    ¡°His file?¡± Obsidian questioned, narrowing her eyes slightly in thought.


    ¡°Incomplete. The Assessment Orb malfunctioned during his test, and he only revealed the ability to swap places with another individual. A power that he has relied on since.¡± Ghost clarified.


    ¡°We can conclude that his teleportation ability is not a primary skill, but rather some secondary capability.¡± Dr. Malevolence decided.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just grab him. I can portal him here in an instant, and it won¡¯t matter what he is capable of doing. Dead is dead.¡± Lady Vortex spoke while causing a small portal to appear above her finger tip. The League of Heroes could be seen inside the small gateway, revealing that she had the ability to penetrate the Headquarters defences in an instant.


    ¡°No, he is irrelevant. The task given to us by our Patron is of the utmost importance. Shade must be removed from League custody before they have an opportunity to question him. Alive or dead, his silence is all I require from him. Make it happen.¡± Obsidian said, her green eyes staring at Lady Vortex until the brightly dressed woman nodded.


    ¡°Sure, no problem.¡± Lady Vortex said, her causal tone cracking for a moment to reveal her nervousness. No one at this table wanted to cross Obsidian.


    ¡°Good.¡± Obsidian responded before turning to look at the others.


    ¡°Notoriety. That is what is required of all the Branches. Our Patron wants the League of Villains to be known throughout the world. Each of you will be responsible for leaving your mark on this endeavour in your own unique way. Death, destruction, and mayhem. Pillage to your heart''s content, have your fun as you see fit.¡± Obsidian ordered.


    ¡°Why? I am happy to participate, my collection is paramount and only the strongest corpses are fit to join it, but why would our Patron demand this of us?¡± The Puppeteer asked tonelessly. Aside from his pursuit of superhumans to convert into Puppets, nothing else excited him.


    ¡°Not to mention giving us access to such lovely gifts. A way to spend Aether to enhance our abilities, to ¡®Level¡¯ ourselves.¡± Ironclad added in his mechanical voice. The others looked at Obsidian with curiosity.


    They had been actively recruited by the League over the past few months by their mysterious ¡®Patron.¡¯ In return for their assistance in raising the League¡¯s status in the world, they had been provided with silver wristbands that showed a ¡®status¡¯ screen and the ability to upgrade their bodies, minds, and naturally occurring abilities.


    It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Obsidian said with a frown, surprising the group. They had never heard that sentence from her before. To the League, Obsidian was an endless fount of knowledge. Even Dr. Malevolence showed an expression of shock on his face. He was known to be a man who anticipated everything.


    ¡°Our Patron seems to gain something from the activities of those associated with them. As we grow stronger in their service, they grow in turn. I have attempted to understand it further, but I lack the required information. The League of Villains Branch Leaders know very little, aside from the name of our Patron.¡±


    Obsidian paused for a moment in thought before shaking her head.


    ¡°The name?¡± Dr. Malevolence prodded, eager to add this new information to his predictions.


    ¡°Mischievous Depravity.¡±

 Chapter 229 – Floor 41: Part 2

    <u>Chapter 229</u> ¨C Floor 41: Part 2


    Mathew felt a familiar sensation of Aether sweeping through him, strengthening his body and enhancing his mind. His understanding of the Celestial Language deepened slightly, and he had new insights into how the words could be structured and used.


    Aches and pains, hidden wounds that he had forgotten or ignored, were healed. He felt invigorated and refreshed, invincible and energized. But all too soon, the Aether faded away, and its work was done.


    Letting out a sigh, Mathew allowed his arm to lower. The burning words of the Status Screen faded away.


    He looked at his new Hero Registration card on the table, his picture at the words ¡®Class C¡¯ prominent on the front. It had just been delivered by a courier a few moments ago, the level he gained had been the reward for another Floor Objective completed.


    Tugging on his jacket, Mathew exited his room and made his way to the street below.


    The sun peeked over the skyline, already casting a warm glow on the bustling New York City sidewalk. The air was crisp and fresh, filled with the sounds of honking horns and the chatter of early morning commuters.


    Buses and cars rumbled past him, their engines roaring and sending out the familiar smell of pollution. As people walked past him, he heard snippets of conversation. The city was alive, and Mathew breathed it in.


    He had missed being home. But, if he needed a reminder that this wasn¡¯t his city, it appeared as if by magic. Two young women were walking down the sidewalk toward him, their stride purposeful. The crowd parted around them and people stopped what they were doing to stare.


    Lumina strode down the bustling city sidewalk, her presence commanding attention even amid the morning rush. Dressed in her familiar, sleek and iridescence suit that shimmered like a cascade of colours in the sunlight, she moved with an effortless grace.


    Her hair flowed down her back like liquid gold, creating a halo effect around her that enhanced her natural beauty to levels that caused most of the people on the streets, including those on cars and buses, to stare.


    Her appearance would have caused a traffic jam if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that it was morning in New York City and the streets were gridlocked already.


    Walking beside her was Elena, still dressed in a business suit with the League¡¯s symbol on the front. She gave him a small wave when she spotted him, her face breaking into a smile.


    Mathew felt a surge of energy at the Hero¡¯s approach, the familiar sensation of Mana and Aether enhancements pulsed in the air around her. It wasn¡¯t enough for the ¡®Buzz¡¯ to activate, meaning she wasn¡¯t powerful enough to threaten him, but it was still slightly uncomfortable to sense it from someone who wasn¡¯t connected to the Tower of Avarice.


    ¡°Good morning, Mathew.¡± Elena greeted him, echoed a moment later by the costumed hero. Mathew frowned at the pair.


    ¡°Good morning, Elena. Do you need something? I thought our business was concluded; I have my new card.¡± Mathew said, pulling out the League registration card from his pocket and flashing it at her.


    ¡°It was, but I¡¯ve been assigned to be your new handler! Usually, only Class ¡®B¡¯ Heroes and above have a League handler, but I pulled some strings!¡± Elena exclaimed. The quickest way for her to be promoted within the League was to be a handler to a successful hero.


    Normally, she wouldn¡¯t be able to scout potential Class ¡®B¡¯ heroes, someone with more experience at the League would already be in a position to become their handler. But Mathew was different, she already had a personal relationship with him and, since he had only been a Class ¡®D¡¯ when they met, no one else was interested in him.


    ¡°Handler?¡± Mathew asked.


    ¡°Handler¡¯s act as your business manager and assistant, all in one. I¡¯ll handle the press, your bookings and other arrangements. I¡¯ll also be responsible for forwarding the League¡¯s information on criminals and other activities, since you don¡¯t have a phone.¡± Elena explained.


    ¡°You should be happy; not everyone gets a Handler so early in their career. I would have killed to have someone like Elena when I was a Class ¡®C¡¯.¡± Lumina added. Mathew turned his attention to the costumed hero.


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    ¡°You¡¯re the Hero from yesterday, the one that was fighting the Villain who controlled shadows.¡± Mathew said, his frown deepening. He didn¡¯t want to get too involved with the Heroes here. From his interactions with the League, it seemed like it would only result in headaches.


    They were too concerned with their appearances, and the Heroes here had a tendency to be boastful and vain.


    ¡°I¡¯m Lumina, Class ¡®A.¡¯ I didn¡¯t get a chance to thank you for what you did.¡± Lumina said and Mathew shrugged in response. He had left the scene as soon as the Villain was subdued and hadn¡¯t talked to her at all.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± Mathew said. He was about to turn to Elena and ask if she had any information for him this morning when Lumina continued.


    ¡°I¡¯m also here to mentor you.¡± She stated, a look on her face that said, ¡®I¡¯m doing you a favour, and you should appreciate it.¡¯


    ¡°Mentor?¡± Mathew asked, looking to Elena for an explanation.


    ¡°Senior Heroes, those who are Class ¡®A¡¯ and above, can choose to guide those of a lower rank. She has officially petitioned the League to have you classified as her ¡®Trainee.¡¯ Although, there is a more common way of saying it.¡± Elena looked uncomfortable for a moment, refusing to say the word that most people would recognize as the label for a Mentor/Mentee relationship between heroes.


    Mathew immediately understood.


    ¡°You want me to be your sidekick?¡± He said, his voice laced with amusement. Lumina couldn¡¯t have been more than twenty-five and was weaker than him. It was like if he had suddenly went up to Unyielding Declaration and asked the Deity to be his sidekick.


    The thought sent him into a fit of laughter.


    ¡°No, you are my sidekick! It¡¯s already official!¡± Lumina yelled, stomping her foot angrily at the tall young man. How dare he laugh at her! She was doing him a favour! Sure, he had saved her yesterday from Shade, but Lumina was convinced that he had only been able to do so because the Villain had been focused on her.


    Mathew showed potential, but he needed to be guided like any other young Hero.


    ¡°Fine. If it¡¯s official, I¡¯ll go along with it.¡± Mathew said before looking at Elena.


    ¡°Do you have anything for me today?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Of course, I have a few things lined up for you both!¡± Elena replied, regaining her composure. She flipped open the folder she always carried and pulled out a couple of pieces of paper with a schedule on it.


    ¡°There¡¯s a community outreach event this morning. It¡¯s a chance for you to connect with the community and build your public image.¡± Elena said.


    ¡°Pass.¡± Mathew replied.


    ¡°You can¡¯t, it''s a League-sanctioned event! You¡¯re already booked along with Lumina! You will demonstrate and talk to the kids about being a hero. It¡¯s a way to earn goodwill from the community and public recognition.¡± Elena argued.


    ¡°It¡¯s non-negotiable, we¡¯re going.¡± Lumina said firmly. Mathew was about to argue when Elena chimed in.


    ¡°There isn¡¯t any information regarding Villains from the League today. If you don¡¯t go, you¡¯ll just have to sit around bored or hope to walk into some Villain.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had luck with that so far.¡± Mathew said with a small grin, only to let out a sigh when neither woman budged.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Mathew agreed. His goal was to reach Class ¡®B¡¯, and events like this might help. Besides, Elena was right; his only other option was to walk around the city.


    <u>Page Break</u>


    The event was taking place at a community center, with thousands of people in attendance. Both the parking lot outside and the building¡¯s interior buzzed with life. Colourful banners were hung from the rafters to celebrate local heroes and tables were ranged with food, crafts and free trinkets, hats and t-shirts provided by the League.


    The crowd was a lively mix of families and children, all gathered to meet their heroes. Laughter echoed through the air as kids ran around, most wearing costumes imitating their favourite League Heroes. The atmosphere was electric, filled with excitement and anticipation as the audience¡¯s energy swelled in response to the festivities.


    Lumina walked around, greeting her fans and performing by making displays of light in the air above them. Elena and Mathew stood to the side and watched; the former was happily enjoying the scene, while the latter looked like he was a moment away from bolting.


    ¡°Thank you. I want you all to meet my new Sidekick, Mathew!¡± Lumina shouted, making sure to draw as much attention as possible to herself.


    It was gratifying seeing the look on Mathew¡¯s face as hundreds of people turned to look at him. He looked like a deer in headlights for a moment.


    ¡®Pay back!¡¯ Lumina thought, thinking of how Mathew laughed at the idea of being mentored by her.


    Mathew¡¯s eyes widened, and for a moment, he hesitated before letting out a deep sigh and running his hand through his hair in exasperation.


    This was the last thing he wanted to do today.


    ¡°Alright, what do you want me to do?¡± Mathew asked Elena, turning his head to look at his ¡®handler¡¯ for advice. She cleared her throat before responding, not used to Mathew asking her for advice.


    ¡°Just demonstrate something the kids will like. Don¡¯t explode anything or make them float into the sky! I don¡¯t want anyone traumatized today.¡± Elena hissed, thinking of what had happened to AcidFang, Brutus and Shade.


    Mathew quirked an eyebrow at her before stepping forward and reaching his hand out. Strangely, he made a grasping motion, and Elena blinked when she saw he held a small stone statue of a horse. Where had he gotten that?


    Mathew placed it gently on the ground in front of him and whispered.


    ¡°Midnight.¡± He called, and the horse statue came to life. Elena watched in amazement as the small statue grew larger and its stone body darkened into a deep black. In a moment, a full-sized horse was standing in front of her, as real as any animal she had ever seen.


    ¡°So, who wants to ride him?¡± Mathew asked.