Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 149 – 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.

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“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.

“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.”

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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.”