Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 162 – Floor 15: Part 8

Unlike the Rome of Mathew’s world, the former capital of the Roman Empire and the beacon of civilization for centuries was a desiccated corpse of its past self. At its height, Rome had a population of over a million people, and its reach extended from Anglia in the West to Byzantium in the East.

Now, less than a hundred thousand souls were living in abject poverty in Rome. Anyone with wealth had already moved away, leaving only the destitute to eke out a living within its shattered walls.

In such a place, it was only natural for the Vampiric Ancestral Beast to find a haven. With a guard of enslaved humans to protect it during the day, the Ancestral Beast lived deep beneath Rome in a network of catacombs built during the time of the Roman Emperors.

Mathew and his companions assessed the city from their ship as it sailed into the harbour. A corrupting haze lay across the city, a murkiness that came from the evil that dwelled within. There were no officials waiting at the docks, nor were there any guards on the streets.

Rome had been left to rot.

Mathew frowned from the railing of the ship as he studied the city. It was early morning, and the sun was peeking over the horizon. They had chosen their arrival time carefully.

“We need to kill it while the sun is with us.” Mathew muttered. He estimated they had twelve hours or so before the sun set, and they lost the advantage the light gave them.

The Vampiric Ancestral Beast was allergic to sunlight; not only would it burn its flesh, but its powers were much weaker during the day. It possessed nearly godlike abilities at night, but every strength had a corresponding weakness. It was possible to kill it when the sun was in the sky above them.

Fire would work as well, which is why Mathew had spent all the Aether he had gained from slaying the Wererat Ancestral Beast on a new Blessing. It had been the most expensive Blessing in the shop, but hopefully, it would make a difference.

Otherwise, he may have to rely on the Word of Power: Burn.

Mathew could still feel the eyes of the Celestials watching him from the darkness. He refrained from turning and looking at the shadow cast by a pile of rope that he knew contained the judging orbs of the spirits.

He shuddered to think how the effects would worsen if he used it again. He was already having difficulty sleeping, and his nerves were frayed by the unending stares of the darkness.

Would they start talking to him or touch his skin?

He pushed those depressing thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. The ship docked at an empty pier, and a few of the locals watched them disinterestedly. Dressed in rags, with sunken cheeks and frail frames, they reminded Mathew of the undead he had fought on the first floor.

“Aye, we don’t stand a chance after the sun sets.” Enalious spoke from beside him.

Despite the warm Mediterranean air, the archmage had added another layer of clothing over his robes. His robes had more protective enchantments weaved into the cloth, and Mathew could feel a tingling on his skin from them.

“Any luck determining where it is located?” Alfred asked.

He looked slightly healthier, but Mathew still required him to stay on the ship. There was no way in hell he would be letting the young man enter the city, not with the miasma seeping through everything and seeming to drain the very life from the place.

“Yes. The Miasma is a side effect of the Vampiric Ancestral Beasts' presence. We will find it wherever it is the thickest. To aid in that endeavour, I have crafted these.” Enalious pulled out a small, crystal sphere from the pocket of his robes and handed it over to Mathew.

Holding it up in front of his eyes, familiar burning letters only visible to his own eyes appeared above the object.

Item Name: Tracking Sphere

Summary: Created by the Archmagus Enalious, this crystal sphere will gather the ambient miasma released by the Vampiric Ancestral Beast and guide the user toward the source. Also includes a ‘communication’ function.

“How many do you have?” Mathew inquired.

“A half dozen. I suggest we break into groups and track the Beast. When we find it, the spheres will broadcast the location to all the others.” Enalious explained as he pulled out a few more and handed them out.

The archmagus had been locked in his ship's cabin for weeks crafting the spheres; this was the first time he had come to the upper deck since they had left Francia. Once the spheres had been given over, Louis spoke up.

The Francian had been eager to kill another Ancestral Beast and had not only offered transport to Rome but whatever supplies they needed. The Prince smiled as he held the crystal sphere aloft and let it catch the light.

“That solves the problem of finding the beast. Once we do, we have the means to drag it out of its hole and into the light.” Louis looked to his own Archmagus, an older Francian woman who led a cadre of mages. Enalious and the Francian archmagus were familiar but hadn’t had many opportunities to interact over the years.

“Binding Chains, blessed by the gods and imbued with the power of the sun. It will be unable to break them as long as it is daylight.” She said as her people brought out coils of thin chains that glowed white and silver.

Mathew could feel the power in those chains, and the ‘Buzz’ warned him of the mana within them. He knew he could likely break through them; they were designed to keep the Vampiric Ancestral Beast contained through the use of its aversion to the sun, but it would take him time.

“We have a plan. Split into groups, find the monster and drag it out into the light.” Mathew ordered, and they got to work unloading the ship while the locals watched them without a trace of curiosity in their eyes.

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“Do you get the impression that we aren’t welcome here?” Daphne asked softly as she followed Marten down a wide road in the center of the city. The docks were far behind them now, and the miasma that made the sky hazy was growing stronger.

The disinterested look on the faces of the locals was subtly shifting towards dislike and outright hostility. They haven’t acted on it so far, remaining content to follow these strange newcomers to Rome with their eyes, but Daphne could feel it.

“Yes, we are most unwelcome here. I would hazard to guess that if we didn’t have sun protection, we would be in for a much more violent reception.” Marten responded as he eased his sword in its scabbard. He would draw the blade an inch or so and then slam it back into its sheathe with a clang.

Behind them were a half dozen knights and mages from both Anglia and Francia. Their nervousness was palpable, and they watched every corner and person in sight with wariness.

They followed the trail left by the crystal sphere in Marten’s hands. The orb wasn’t as accurate as they had hoped; it merely gave them a vague impression of the source of the miasma. But, with a half dozen groups scouring the city, they hoped to find the Vampiric Ancestral Beast by noon when the sun was at its zenith.

“Why do they stay?” Daphne asked as she stared at the pitiful forms of the locals huddled together in dilapidated buildings or scrounged in piles of refuse for food. None of them seemed to possess the will to live or attempt to leave Rome.

“They are prisoners here, like cattle in a field. They are no more able to leave than those poor wretches we rescued in the North.” Marthen commented. He ignored the locals and focused on the directions given by the crystal orb.

They could do nothing for these people, not until they killed the Vampiric Ancestral Beast. Perhaps then they will regain some of their spirit.

Or they could finally be granted the peace of death.

Daphne was about to respond when the orb in Marten’s hands gave a bright flash of light. It rose into the air and shot across the sky.

“That’s the signal; someone has found its lair! Follow it!” Marten shouted. They were soon running through the streets, the trail of light left by the orb easy to follow as the pounding of their feet echoed against the buildings that lined the twisting street of Rome.

They soon made their way through the Colosseum; the white stones had long since been dyed a dull grey by the miasma’s corruption. They met several other groups on the way and when they entered the ruins, they found Prince Aiden and Prince Louis standing above a large hole in the ground at the center of the old Roman structure.

Marten could see Miasma leaking from the opening like smoke rising into the air from a campfire. The feeling of malevolence that had been present throughout Rome felt much stronger here.

The two Princes were discussing something, with Prince Louis shaking his head almost violently as he denied Aiden’s words.

“- by us. We must be the ones to use it, and I will lead it.” Louis responded, only to be shut down by Aiden.

“I have experience in this area, Louis. I will enter and use the chains.” Aiden replied.

“We will go together.” Louis tried to compromise, only for Aiden to shake his head.

“I need you here in case something goes wrong. Besides, this tunnel is only large enough for one person to enter at a time. The best you could do is stand behind me and watch as I get killed; better you guard the surface and prepare to yank this bastard out of the ground.” Aiden stated that there was no more arguing with him.

Marten could see that Louis wanted to, but Aiden didn’t give him a chance. Taking the end of the chain, Aiden leapt into the hole that led to the Vampiric Ancestral Beast.