Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 67 – Floor 7: Part 7

Greg stood with the others, his arms crossed as he waited patiently for the representative of the ‘Council’ that ran this city and the ‘army’ attached to it.

The ‘Buzz’ was a constant presence in the back of his mind. The tension in his body and the prickling at the base of his neck alerted him of players that were higher level than him inhabited this city. It made him stifle any impatience he may have felt regarding the delay. He was just a small fish in a big pond here.

The hundreds of others who waited for him began to talk amongst themselves, discussing topics like the city and its people, where they came from, or their experiences on the previous floor. Greg tuned out most of it until a piece of conversation caught his ear.

“You’re not supposed to do that.” A woman said to a young man beside her. He was currently looking at the screen above his wristband, browsing the shop offerings.

One of the first things the group that brought them here had said was that using the wristbands was forbidden inside the city until the representative from the ‘Council’ discussed the rules with them. Greg had heard that some of the offerings inside were ‘banned’ from players, that the Outer Deity tainted them. They were here to fight against it, so he hadn’t been tempted to look.

“What are they going to do? Kick me out?” The young man said, flicking through the tabs. His actions drew attention, and Greg could see that a few locals who were there to ‘watch over them’ were beginning to notice.

“Hey! You can’t be using that!” An older man said. He was part of the group that had rescued them, wearing heavy armour that showed signs of wear and a large, two-handed sword strapped to his back. He began to push his way toward the young man. His outburst attracted more attention, and soon, nearly a dozen people were doing the same.

“Shove off! I’m not doing anything wrong…Hello! What’s this? Holy shit! The stats on this Discipline are insane. They increase by nine after every level!” The young man shouted, backing away from the approaching guards while staring at the screen. His eyes were wide in shock, and Greg could see the excitement and greed there.

“And it’s free!” The young man exclaimed. His words set off a wave of whispers and comments amongst the crowd, and Greg could see others pulling up their status screens to look at the offered Discipline. The group's actions sent the ‘guards’ into a frantic pace to stop them.

The young man who had first discovered the new Discipline was surrounded by others, preventing anyone from reaching him in time.

“It’s called ‘Adherent of the Outer Deity! It’s incredible! Accept! Accept!” The young man shouted, and darkness seemed to descend upon him. An incredible rush of mana wept across the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust as it swirled around him.

As suddenly as it appeared, the aura of darkness left. The young man was still there, grinning at the rush of power he suddenly felt. He had obviously used whatever Aether he had gathered from the previous battle to level up. His wounds hadn’t healed, and nothing seemed to have changed about him physically, but Greg and the others felt something odd about him.

The ‘Buzz’ grew stronger, and with it came more shouts as several others managed to activate the Discipline before the guards could stop them.

“You keep what you kill!” The young man said, pulling out a knife and immediately slashing at whoever was closest to him. The woman who had scolded him for using his wristband fell with a slash to her throat. Blood spilled on the ground, and the air immediately began to smell of spice.

A cloud of Aether began to form, rising from the bodies as the young man dashed and twisted through the crowd, killing indiscriminately. The guards were unable to stop him. He seemed to have a Blessing that allowed him to ‘flow’ around attacks like a dancer, twisting and contorting his body to avoid harm.

Worse, as the Aether grew thicker and more was absorbed by him, Greg felt the young man’s level increase once again.

“Someone stop him!” The older man shouted after his blade buried itself in the ground where the young man had just been standing. Combined with another dozen or so people having suddenly losing their minds, the area was a chaotic mess of combat.

“For the Outer Deity, Daolithin!” The young man shouted the name of the unfamiliar god as he plunged his knife into another person and ran toward Greg.

“Shit.” Greg cursed. He hadn’t refilled his crossbow bolts since the last fight, as they had been forbidden from accessing the shop. His sword and knife were gone as well, leaving him bare-handed. He was about to raise his hands in an attempt to grapple the young man when a bolt of bluish-white energy struck the young man from the side.

The bolt of energy, as thick as Greg’s wrist, obliterated the young man’s skull. The headless corpse ran for a few more feet before collapsing onto the ground. A haze of Aether rose from the cadaver, swirling for a second before streaking in the direction the bolt had originated from.

Another bolt of energy struck another attacker in the leg, taking it off at the knee and spilling the enraged attacker onto the ground, where someone else stabbed her in the chest with a sword.

Greg followed the lines of energy to find Mathew, someone he had seen on the third floor only a few weeks ago.

His friend had changed, and not for the better. He looked like he had been through the wringer. He was not longer wearing clothing that would fit in on Earth like Greg remembered the young man preferred. Instead, he was wearing leather armour with a long, black duster jacket over it that shone with mana.

Mathew’s lower face was obscured with a scarf as red as the sun above them, and he had another red bandana tied around his arm with a strange symbol on the front in white. It was of a clenched fist holding a bolt of lightning.

His hair was longer than Greg remembered, and his face was covered in dirt from the blowing dust. Mathew was pointing at the players who had accepted the new discipline, and each time he did, a bolt of energy would erupt from his hand and strike them.

To Greg, Mathew as more terrifying than the Fiends he had been fighting before. It wasn’t his physical appearance, although, with the magical jacket and his face set in a harsh expression, he looked like he could chew rocks. It was the feeling Mathew gave him.

The ‘Buzz,’ which had been a constant thrum in Greg’s head since he had arrived at the city, went into a frenzy at Mathew’s appearance. Greg could barely breathe; his skin broke out into a cold sweat, and it felt like he couldn’t catch his breath.

The level difference between them was overwhelming. It had to have been at least ten, maybe even higher. It was difficult to judge, and Greg wouldn’t honestly know until he asked. But Mathew gave him the impression of a lion in the presence of a house cat.

What had his friend been through in the few short weeks since they had parted on the third floor? If it even had been only weeks. All the players had discovered that time worked differently in the Tower. Greg had spent an entire year with a caravan, while Mathew had told him it had only been a short time.

When the last of the perpetrators of the attack were subdued, Mathew addressed the crowd. His blue eyes, worryingly cold, scanned the crowd. They lingered for a moment on Greg. There was a light of recognition there, and Greg breathed a sigh of relief that his friend wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t remember him anymore.

“My name is Mathew Larson. I’m a member of the Council of Righteous Subjugation. We run this city and coordinate our efforts against the Fiends on behalf of the god that rules this floor. If you see anyone with this symbol on their arm,” Mathew tapped the red bandana on his arm, “They’re on the Council as well.” Mathew stated.

“The ban is simple: everything you purchase from the shop, all items, Blessings, levels and Disciplines have to be approved by the Council beforehand. As you can see from what happened here, the Outer Deity’s taint is a serious concern.” Mathew explained.

“The Discipline you just heard about, the ‘Adherent,’ is a lie. Take it, and it will warp your mind, and you won’t be any better than the Fiends we’re fighting against. The god of Righteous Subjugation can be…quirky, but you’ll enjoy all the same freedoms we had on the other floors if we stick with the things the Council has approved of.” Mathew finished.

He spoke to one of the guards for a moment, making a gesture to the few of the ‘Adherents’ that survived before turning the crowd over to one of his assistants. Nodding to Greg, Mathew tilted his head, indicating that he should follow him.

“You’re here. I thought that maybe you would have been smarter than me and picked a better floor to come to.” Mathew said as soon as they were out of sight of the others.

“You had a choice?” Greg exclaimed, and Mathew winced slightly at the words.

“Not really, it was between this and killing a bunch of innocent people. I was sure I made the right decision at first. But as times passed, I can’t say that I don’t regret it slightly.”

“How long have you been here?” Greg asked, and his friend took a moment to think.

“Three months? Maybe more? It tends to blur together.” Mathew admitted.

Mathew had spent the past several months fighting Fiends and people who used to be players just like them in this hell. It was no wonder he seemed so different, so much harsher than Greg remembered. After seeing what it was like here, could Greg have done the same and survived?

He honestly didn’t know.