Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 137 – 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.

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.