Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Floor 64: Conquest

Stop the invasion of the alien being from entering this world and stealing its Aether.

Reward: N/A (The gods have chosen to withhold your reward due to your refusal to offer Aether to the Tower.)

The sky ruptured with a deafening crack, and a jagged wound of light and shadow split the heavens apart. From this gaping fracture above, something alien and monstrous pushed its way through, an entity of impossible scale.

A hand emerged, its fingers long and skeletal, each tipped with talon-like claws. The skin was rough and uneven, shifting between shades of dark grey and sickly pale. The air around it recoiled from its presence, twisting and spiralling in unnatural patterns around the monstrous limb as it reached downward. The shadow it cast was so large it swallowed the land beneath.

The hand moved with dreadful slowness, deliberate and patient as if testing the limits of the wound in the sky. Its massive fingers curled inwards, then flexed outward, bending in an eerie, inhuman way. As a deep groan filled the world below as the sky itself protested against the intrusion.

It was then, with an almost casual motion, the hand shifted and turned to the side. Its claws dug into the edges of the right and pierced through the torn fabric of reality. To those watching below, they could see the hand begin to tug at the rift.

The crack in the sky widened, inch by inch. The being forced its way through, pushing as though widening a door meant to stay closed and sealed forever. The heavens resisted, trembling under the pressure, but nothing could stop it.

Light bled from the edges of the tear, an eerie, pulsing glow that flickered between brilliance and absolute darkness. The world below grew silent as they were held in the grip of a terror so complete that even the wind refused to move.

A sound erupted from above, a deep creaking and a deafening crack. The rift split wider under the monster's strength, revealing more of its arm. It was impossibly long and sinewy, with multiple joints in odd places. The hand flexed again, its fingers twitching in anticipation.

With the crack in the sky widened, something else began to emerge beyond the monstrous arm. A face loomed at the threshold of their world. It peered in like a predator through a broken door. Its skin was pale and sickly, stretched tight over a gaunt skull and slick with an unnatural gleam.

A pair of curved horns jutted up from its forehead, made from blackened bone that arched back before tapering into points. The face had too many sets of eyes, all placed unevenly across its head. Some were large and rolled around inside their sockets, seeing in all directions at once. While others were small and sunken into its skull.

Its mouth was filled with long, sharp teeth. Some were broken and jagged, revealing rows behind. A thick vapour coiled from the creature's nostrils as it exhaled, and a smell of death and decay permeated the atmosphere.

Far below, a young man stood on a vast, empty plain with his feet planted firmly in the dry ground. The wind that had been howling just a moment ago had suddenly stopped moving, leaving his surroundings deathly quiet.

The sky above him was a ruined canvas, torn open by the monster that had forced its way through the rift. He could feel the weight of its presence pressing down on him with a suffocating, crushing force that threatened to break him before the battle had even begun.

But to Mathew, who had just experienced gravity far worse than the pressure this monster exuded, it only felt a bit heavy. His breath was stead and his gaze unwavering as he stared up at the nightmare unfolding above.

Mathew held the Godslaying Blade of Warth in his right hand, although he didn't expect to use the weapon for this battle. Its dark steel hummed with barely restrained power, and the weapon felt alive in his grip. Even though the weapon was created to kill beings beyond moral comprehension, he doubted its sharp edge would be useful against the being above.

Instead, he was using its power to bolster his attributes to new heights, enhancing his abilities as far as he could while conserving his mana.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

If anyone were looking at him at this moment, they would think he looked like a regular young man holding a strange sword in his hand. He wasn't dressed like a hero of legend. He didn't have shining armour, a flowing cloak or a halo of divine light.

He wore a black jacket, so worn that it looked ragged, and a pair of faded jeans that were torn at the knees. His boots were caked in dust, scuffed from battle and travel.

The only thing that would separate him from any other person in the world was his blue eyes. They glowed with an inner light, and if someone were to get close enough to him, they would see swirling, sparkling flecks of Aether within.

The creature's upper body fully emerged from the rift. Its massive form pulled free of the sundered sky with a slow, deliberate movement. Like its arm, the monster's torso was long and lean, with skin stretched taut over unnatural bones that jutted beneath its surface.

Its head turned to an unnatural degree and scanned the land below with its multitude of eyes. Some swivelled independently, darting in different direction. Mathew felt the moment it took notice of him. He wasn't surprised, even with the distance between them.

Since Mathew could feel the power in the monster's body, the Aether, Mana and other energies, he had no doubt that the creature could feel the same in him.

The Buzz, which normally would be warning him with sickening pain of the threat above, was oddly silent. Since he had decided to avoid the favours and benefits given by the Tower and the gods within and use his own power to progress, the Buzz had become much dimmer.

Whether it was his own growing abilities or his deliberate splintering of his link with the Tower, Mathew wasn't sure. He hadn't severed his ties to the Tower; he doubted that could be done, but he had harmed it enough that he no longer needed to give up all of his gained Aether to the Tower every Floor in exchange for the pittance the gods gave him.

It was risky, but Mathew felt like he was finally free for the first time since he had entered the Tower all those years ago.

While Mathew watched, the creature inhaled, and its cast chest expanded. Then, it roared with a force that wasn't just heard but felt. It shattered the still silence of the world. It was a sound deeper than thunder, louder than the crashing of mountains. It was a raw, primal sound that carried across the sky and terrified all who heard it.

Mountains groaned and cracked; their peaks crumbled into avalanches that thundered down their slopes. Oceans roiled as their tides were thrown into chaos. Cities far beyond the horizon shuddered as their buildings trembled and windows burst into showers of glass.

The roar eventually faded, but its echoes lingered. It vibrated through the air and through the earth.

Despite the noise and the terror it induced, Mathew remained calm. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly while the mana inside his body cycled slowly. Each revolution matched his breath, with an inhale at the start and an exhale at the end, building on each other.

He thought back to his experiments at replicating the abilities he had lost from the previous Floors. Creating fire, hurling objects, and surrounding himself with a righteous aura. All of them required the use of mana in a specific way, and all were facilitated through knowledge given by the Tower.

Without that knowledge, Mathew could only rely on his own memories to replicate them. He could recall how they worked, how they felt when they were used, how the mana flowed inside his body.

But the Words of Power were different. His mana had only been a small part of the equation. The Words of Power required a connection to the Song of Creation that he now lacked.

That didn't mean he couldn't copy their effects using his own mana and his experience with them.

Mathew calmed his mind and felt the sword in his hands. He recalled his fight against the demonic form of Mercy. She had towered over the horizon, similar to the monster above him now.

'How did it feel.' Mathew thought as he tried to ignore the creature wreaking havoc in the skies.

He remembered how he felt the pull before he even willed it to happen. The mana inside him had stirred like a waking beast as it surged and rushed through his veins. Then, like a flood breaking through a dam, it had poured into the Blade of Wrath.

The Word of Power had been like a recipe, while he had merely provided the ingredients. But that didn't mean he didn't understand how to replicate the effects.

With his mana sufficiently built inside him, Mathew felt his body tremble from the amount of energy he had coiled within him. It was a wild, untamed force that screamed to be released.

When Mathew finally poured it into the sword, the Godslaying Blade of Wrath responded instantly. It ignited with a furious glow. Surrounded by a searing light, the air around it warped and crackled as if the very presence of its power threatened to unmake the world around him.

Mathew narrowed his eyes as he focused on the rampaging monster above. It had nearly broken free of the rift, and the ground was shaking around him as the earth began to succumb to its destructive power. Raising the sword in both hands, Mathew drew in a final breath before speaking.

"A Shattered Sky!"

The moment Mathew swung, the Godslaying Blade of Wrath answered. A surge of bluish-white energy erupted from its edge. A brilliant arc of pure, searing power carved through the air like a divine executioner's strike. The force of the attack sent shockwaves rippling outward, flattening the grass around him and kicking up clouds of dust and debris.

The energy expanded as it tore through the sky, splitting the heavens apart in its wake. The clouds above scattered in all directions. The energy was so intense that it seemed as though a second sun had been born.

Everything in its path was cut as the energy roared forward, seeking its target in a relentless storm of light.

The monster above, so self-assured and powerful, had a moment of confusion before the wave of energy struck it.

'Ding.'