Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, which Louis always thought was too delicate a sound for what often waited for him on the other side. Emily stepped out first, her boots crunching against what looked like a blackened salt flat.

The ground shimmered faintly with an obsidian-like dust that had been scattered across the ground. Aether formed a thick mist in the air, and each breath they took was filled with the spicy scent that left an almost static charge on their skin.

Louis followed behind Emily, the pair had formed a team for the last few Floors. Their abilities complemented each other, not to mention their goal of saving Mathew aligned now that Louis knew what his friend had sacrificed.

Their clothes still bore the signs of battle from the previous Floor. They had fought countless demons for years, if not longer. It was easy to lose track of time in the Tower, especially in a place where neither the sun nor moon hung overhead.

The 95th Floor stretched endlessly in every direction. Monoliths of dark stone jutted up from the ground like the spines of long-dead creatures, and in the far distance, they could see great chains stretching from deep beneath the ground up into the sky above.

Oddly, these chains seemed to be anchored to nothing.

"What do you think those are for?" Emily asked, pointing up at the rusty metal chains. Each link was miles thick based on the distance, and she couldn't understand their purpose.

Louis tilted his head back and squinted into the blue sky. The sun was a bright yellow disk that shone merrily, making it an odd contrast to the bleak landscape. His eyes followed the chains from where they rose like a mountain from the ground and vanished beyond the clouds.

The scale of the chains was absurd as if they had been forged by titans for the sole purpose of keeping the entire planet anchored to the heavens.

Louis observed for a moment with his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword before responding.

"If I had to guess, those chains once bound something above. But I don't know if they are still in use."

Emily frowned and followed the line of one massive link with her eyes until it disappeared into the too-perfect sky. The clouds were soft and serene as they drifted lazily, although there was no discernable wind.

"So either something is still trapped up above us, something that requires massive chains, or they are doing nothing, in which case whatever they were used for has broken free." Emily deduced, and Louis shook his head.

"Or was set loose." Louis added, causing Emily to tighten her grip on her staff.

"That isn't comforting, Louis." She muttered, and the Prince of Francia offered her a small, tired smile. His fingers stayed on the hilt of his sword, tense and ready.

"It wasn't meant to be. Everything here looks peaceful, but that means very little." Louis replied as he turned away from the chains and began to study the terrain.

The 95th Floor had the feeling of a trap. It was oddly serene, with an unnaturally peaceful and perfect blue sky. The Aether gathered in abundance, making it a desirable place for any god to conquer. It almost felt staged as if it was a mask that hid the ugliness underneath.

The wristbands on their arms pulsed with light, and the familiar, monotone and mechanical voice spoke out.

"Welcome to the 95th Floor. You are both close to your goal, but you must not be complacent. You have arrived in the world of Restrained Ascent. This place was once a divine proving ground, where young Demigods were tested before taking their place in their Demesne."

"Now, it has been abandoned and sealed away. Your objective is to reach the Well at the bottom of the World and collect the Crystallized Aether that has accumulated there for the past millennia."

"But beware: prolonged exposure to the sky above may affect your thoughts. Prolonged listening to the whispers of what has been sealed may affect your will."

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The voice from the wristband clicked off with a soft chime which was similar to the sound the elevator had made.

Emily glanced up at the sky again instinctively and foolishly before quickly looking away. She could have sworn she'd seen something behind the clouds. Whatever it was, it was vast, and she felt that it was watching them.

Her heart hammered in her chest for a moment before she focused on the dark ground in front of her once more. She gritted her teeth against the rising feeling of unease as she followed Louis, who was already moving forward.

The Prince of Francia's long coat flared out around him, catching on a faint breeze that hadn't existed a moment before. He moved with confidence, but she could tell that he was keeping a wary eye of the shadows between the stone monoliths that dotted the land.

Emily could have sworn that the landscape had changed subtly while they were listening to the voice, as if the world around them had been rearranged when they hadn't been looking.

"We stay together, and if I start talking to things that aren't there, you can hit me. Hard." Emily said firmly as she caught up to Louis.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Louis responded with a small smile before continuing to walk toward the first of the distant monoliths.

The great chains creaked above them as if they were stirred by the wind and Emily had to firmly resist the urge to look up.

Page Break

On the streets of a futuristic city which showed signs of the recent battle, four Apostles gathered beneath the artificial streetlights for a negotiation. The Aether of this world was below average, but it was enough to draw the interest of multiple parties.

After years of fighting, the two strongest groups came together to split the rewards rather than continue the conflict and risk destroying everything they worked to conquer. As the gods were unable to directly influence events, their Apostles were acting as their voices.

Mercy stood with her arms folded angrily as she stared at the opposing party. She smelled like sulphur, something that followed her around for a long period of time after she transformed, and each time she got mad, her eyes would glow crimson for a moment.

She was wearing her standard punk rocker clothing that included ripped leather and belts that served no purpose. Unlike everyone else in attendance, she didn't have a weapon.

Across from her were the representatives of Bounteous Lethargy, a god whose worshipers valued pleasure in all forms, whether they were sleeping or awake. The Apostles were a pair that looked eerily similar. They were smooth-featured and statuesque, with skin that had a slight bluish tinged.

They also looked bored with the proceedings and unconcerned with Mercy's growing fury at the lack of progress. Unfortunately for Mercy, there was nothing she could do about their attitude. The pair were strong, and she secretly doubted that she could take them on.

Not that she would let them know that.

The woman leaned on a massive glaive while the man was idly fiddling with a shard of crystalized Aether in his palm like it was a child's toy. They were both attractive and young, which wasn't uncommon for people who entered the Tower. Most Apostles were exceptional people, whether in looks, talent or intelligence.

"We are not opposed to dividing the planet. But the ratio must reflect the amount of effort. The forces of Mischievous Depravity broke through the defences of these locals, but it was ours that finally pacified the population. You must agree that dreams are often quieter than bloodshed." The male Apostle said in a lazy tone; his voice was slow and unhurried.

Mercy rolled her eyes in response and let out a snort.

"Oh, spare me the poetry. If it wasn't for us, half of the planet would still be resisting." Mercy countered, and the female Apostle slowly nodded her head.

"Not you, but Mathew." She spoke.

At the mention of his name, all eyes briefly shifted to Mathew. He was standing behind Mercy, silently leaning against a building and showing a distinct lack of interest in what they were doing. His long, black jacket was frayed at the edges, but it was the sword that had been wedged against the wall next to him that made the pair of Apostles shiver.

They had seen him perform feats of astonishing destruction with that weapon.

"Does he ever speak, or does he just brood?" The female Apostle asked, her lips curling into a smile when she saw that Mathew was no longer their enemy. Her eyes raked across him with interest and Mercy frowned in response.

"Mathew doesn't talk unless it's important. And dealing with you two doesn't count. Fifty-Fifty." Mercy stated the terms of their split, and the male Apostle shook his head.

"Sixty for us, forty for you and your precious silence." Mercy's eyes flashed bright red in anger.

"Fifty-fifty or things start getting a lot more violent."

For a moment, the tension thickened. Then, the female Apostle exhaled and gave a lazy nod.

"Very well. Fifty-Fifty. But next time you let your statue talk. I have a lot to discuss with him." She said, and Mercy grew furious at the hungry look on the woman's face.

"Keep it in your pants. He's got no interest in you." Mercy retorted. The female Apostle's smile widened, and she tilted her head slightly.

"Is that so? I wonder if you're speaking for him or for yourself."

Mercy stepped forward, and crimson energy flared around her for a split second before she felt a hand land on her shoulder, stifling the mana within her. The demon blood, which had been crying out for violence, stilled in an instant.

"The deal's done. You may go."

Mathew's voice was soft, but it echoed all around them. There was a power there, a remnant of the Words of Power that he had once commanded . The Apostles didn't respond as they walked away, disappearing in a flash of light, but not before the female Apostle gave Mathew a warm smile that was filled with promise.

"Let's go." Mathew commanded and his body slowly faded away as his mana took him to their lodgings on this world.