Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 53 – Floor 6: Part 6

After three months at sea, no matter how luxurious and well-provisioned the ship was, Mathew cheered along with the rest of the crew when land was finally sighted.

Center Island was a large, circular landmass dominated by a large volcanic mountain. The dark blue waters of the Azure Sea lightened as the ship approached, turning a bright turquoise. A reef surrounded the island, forcing all ships making the crossing to enter at a single chokepoint where the island's only settlement was located.

Birds flew overhead, filling the air with the sound of their cries. Mathew could see fish and other sea creatures in the water below him as they moved parallel to the reef.

Center Island was neutral ground between the Empire and the Kingdom of Ama, a concession from both parties centuries ago to end another war in their past.

As part of the settlement agreement, only a few dozen people from both continents would be allowed to inhabit the island, making it a key stopping point for the vessel's six-month-long voyage. There were a few buildings and a long dock that already had another ship with large, blue sails and an eye symbol stitched onto it.

Mathew had learned that trade between the continents had been forbidden, meaning few travellers ventured across the sea to visit the other side. Most who came out this far did so in search of rare items such as deep sea pearls and to hunt the creatures unique to the Azure ocean.

It had made Mathew curious about how a war could start between the two continents when such a vast sea separated them, and contact was severely limited. Apparently, it had not always been so. The journey used to be much shorter before the conflict between the two continents caused some sort of catastrophe.

Even Bargoth didn’t know the specifics; it had happened over a thousand years ago, but ancient records indicated that ships had previously made the voyage in under a month and that the sea lanes between them were well-travelled.

Regardless of the reason why things had changed, Mathew was finally at Center Island, where he would be responsible for ensuring the wedding took place and a lasting peace ensued. He didn’t care about the second part. The peace could fall apart as soon as he left this floor for all he cared. It was the marriage itself that was his objective.

He was also curious about these Psion Amadans. It seemed to be a common ability amongst their people, with even the common folk having some limited psychic abilities while their elite could do things equal to the mages of Talrand.

Mathew had been assured that the Amadans looked human; he had almost been picturing them with a third eye or massive, throbbing heads, but Amberlith had scoffed at the notion. They were simply humans with an ability unique to their continent.

The ship finally docked, and the crew tossed over heavy and thick lengths of rope to secure it to the platform before extending a long walkway. Naturally, the Prince and his retinue were the first to depart the vessel, with Mathew and Amberlith in their midst.

After three months on a ship's rocking deck, the land's sudden firmness took a moment to get used to.

The Prince was leading the way down the dock, speaking with a well-dressed man whom Mathew took for the Empire’s representative on the island. He could overhear a few of the things they were talking about, mostly how rude the Amadans were and the locals' various complaints about them.

The Amadans had only arrived the day before, their ship docking and meeting with their half of the island’s agents. The small settlement was divided into two, while the dock was shared. The Amadans had a large, wooden and stone building to Mathew’s left, while the Talrandians occupied the right.

The architecture of the two continents was as different as their people. The Talrandians favoured simple structures of wood and stone, square and utilitarian. The blue dragon flag was set on a pole at the top, and it flapped in the wind. Squat and narrow windows made the building look like a fortress, and it even had a small Spire only three stories tall behind it for the few local mages to use.

The Amadan had a graceful and elegant structure made of stone that Mathew could only assume was moulded in some way to form the building. It reminded him of a tulip bulb, round and wide on the bottom before narrowing at the top. Large windows allowed a lot of natural light to enter, and the locals cultivated flower beds and gardens around the front and sides.

The center of the town, a form of ‘No Man’s Land,’ started as a sandy beach before rising into a green lawn with large palm trees providing shade. Crates and boxes were stacked along with a few carts and a wooden crane at the end of the dock that could be moved on large wheels as needed.

Coming to the end of the dock, Mathew ignored the gathered Talrandians to observe a couple of the Amadans standing near their ‘Embassy.’ Consisting of a man and women, their outfits set them apart from the Talrandians, as did their physical appearance.

To Mathew, despite their magic and the advantages it gave them, the Talrandians were clearly stuck in the medieval stage of their development. The clothes they wore, how their society functioned, and their equipment were all things that would have been seen on earth five hundred years before Mathew’s time.

If the Talrandians were from medieval Earth, then the Amadans looked like they came from the ancient Roman Empire.

The man and woman wore togas, a single piece of cloth wrapped around their bodies in a single, continuous piece. The man was wearing white, while the woman beside him was decked out in dark purple. Both had gold jewelry, bracelets and necklaces.

Rather than the bulbous heads or third eye, the pair seemed rather plain to Mathew. The man was short, unremarkable in features, with tanned skin and short black hair. His partner was similar, not reaching Mathew’s chest in height, although her dark hair was done up in a rather elaborate bun with more gold chains interwoven throughout it.

They were silent, not speaking to each other as they watched the Talrandian procession march toward their own building.

Impatient to meet someone else besides the people he had shared a ship with for three months, Mathew ignored everyone around him as he walked toward the empty space toward the Amadans.

Noticing his approach immediately, the pair turned their gaze towards him, and Mathew felt the strangest sensation.

It was as if he were walking through a large spider's web, and the strands were breaking around him. At the same time, his movements were slightly restricted, and he needed to ‘push’ to get through it. His feet felt heavier, his eyes were unfocused and time slowed around him.

Mathew could feel a pressure behind his eyes, and his head began to ache. Blinking, he shook it off and as quickly as it appeared, it was gone once more.

Nothing impeded his progress, and if the pair in front of him hadn’t turned to look at each other in a mixture of shock and confusion, Mathew could have assumed he had been imagining it.

“Good day. My name is Mathew, and I’ve been brought here by the gods to ensure this wedding is a success.” Mathew stated, flashing them a smile that he hoped they took to be friendly.

Turning away from each other, the pair stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment in silence. Shaking her head angrily, the woman was the first to speak.

“Your mind is closed to me.” She stated, and her companion nodded.

“To me as well. Such a thing should not be possible without training.” The man added with a raspy voice. Their pronunciation of words was odd, and they placed inflection on the wrong parts of the sentence. To Mathew, it almost seemed that they were speaking the words without knowing their meanings.

“Is that what that weird sensation was just a second ago? You were trying to read my mind?” Mathew asked, and the woman nodded.

“Yes, and more. You should not have been able to approach us, not without our permission. We have not encountered such a thing before.” She confessed.

“You haven’t been visited by a Champion before?” Mathew asked, and this time, it was the man who responded.

“Not in several centuries. Amadans handle their own affairs.” The man said simply.

“Well, hopefully, you can handle the Talrandians as well. I would like to meet with your Princess, if possible. I want to make it clear that this wedding will be happening, rain or shine.” Mathew said, and the pair stared at each other, communicating silently before agreeing.

“Of course, this way, please.”