Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 124 – 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.

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.