Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 85 – Floor 9: Part 6

Algrond, Lord of the Aeolian Lineage, stepped into the hall with a mixed sense of awe and dread.

This was the meeting place of every Lord and Lady in their world, a hallowed and sacred ground where his father and hundreds of others had gathered to declare their war against the Demons. It had been a green field at that time, untouched by the hands of man.

A grand hall had been constructed in the centuries since those righteous figures had assembled. Made of the finest marble and gilded in gold and silver, only Lords and Ladies could enter. The entire structure could only be reached by magical items left in their care to transport them to this sacred destination.

Algrond had left his entourage outside, over three dozen of the most beautiful women from his territory. He couldn’t bear to be alone on his travels; their presence was a comfort to him.

The Lord of the Aeolian Lineage appeared to be a middle-aged man, still in the prime of life despite his nearly two centuries of age. His hair was long and dark, his face handsome and untouched by wrinkles or hardship.

While his father had fought the Demons, Algrond had been too young to participate. To his great shame, he never had the opportunity to test himself against the Demons. But the gods had finally given him that opportunity. The endless days of boredom that came from ruling would finally be broken.

His awe came from the wealth and beauty displayed by the hall, but the dread he felt came from the august company he soon found himself in. Hundreds of Lords and Ladies had convened for this assembly, some of whom had faced the original Demon Lords centuries ago.

Algrond knew he was lacking compared to them, both in his standing and personal power. His territory was amongst the smallest, and he had never honed his skills against a worthy opponent. In their hierarchy, Algrond ranked amongst the lowest.

‘They aren’t better than me.’ Algrond thought, trying to ignore the feeling if dread and inadequacy building within him. Their proclivities were known to him, and he used this knowledge to bolster his resolve.

A Lord over there was known to indulge too freely in drink and revelry, while a mature Lady near the wall of the hall had over a dozen husbands, each dying under mysterious circumstances. Worse were those whose appetites were not even whispered for fear of bringing down their wrath.

Stories of cannibalism, the deaths of entire towns in perverse displays for their Lord or Lady, bathing in blood to maintain their youth. Algrond had heard the rumours, and even he had shuddered at the images they brought to mind.

Still, it is better for the populace to be ruled by them than by the Demons. His father had told him of what they were capable of. If it took the deaths or suffering of thousands to satiate these assembled Lords and Ladies and keep the realm safe, then it was a small price to pay.

Algrond himself took pleasure in finding the most attractive women from amongst the lands he ruled as payment for his protection. It was his right as its Lord, and he saw nothing wrong with it. At least the women continued to live, unlike several of his neighbouring Lords and Ladies would have done.

A loud bell rang out, echoing off the white walls of the hall. A feeling of anticipation followed the sound, and Algrond swiftly moved to stand with the others in two long rows at the end of the hall, as was proper for one of his statuses. When the ringing of the bell stopped, so did the shuffling of feet and the movement of the Lords and Ladies.

An old woman stood before them at the far end of the hall, near the front where those with the greatest power and the largest territories had gathered. Matriarch, Chosen of the gods to lead them against the Demons centuries before. She was the oldest living human in the world; her age showed, despite elixirs and magic to regain her youth.

Matriarch wore long, white robes with the symbol of the gods on the front, a Tower wreathed in lightning. So powerful was she in mana that Algrond could feel it even from where he stood. It was like an ocean wave, ebbing and flowing like the tide and crashing over him.

Algrond shivered at the feeling. He had heard that the life of a virgin was required as a sacrifice to the Matriarch to maintain her power. That without the lifeblood of such a person, she would wither and die. Her mana did have an oddity to it, a viciousness that tingled his skin as it washed over his flesh.

“Welcome, Lords and Ladies of the Sacred Lineages.” The Matriarch’s voice carried clearly to the hundreds gathered, propelled by her mana.

“A time of great tribulation has arrived, as the gods have foretold. We must unite against the encroaching Demon Lords, who threaten to destroy the peace we have sacrificed so much to gain. Artemis, Lady of the Licarian Lineage.” The Matriarch gestured to another woman to her left.

The Lady Artemis was younger than Algrond and had never faced the Demons in combat or even seen them in life. But she ruled the largest territory of them all, and it was said her mind was as sharp as a magical blade.

She stepped forward and turned to look at the Lords and Ladies.

“Thirteen have come. Thirteen Demon Lords with the power to take what we have gained. Several of you have faced them already and have been forced to retreat. The gods are testing us, giving us an opportunity to grow and develop, as they did for others in centuries past. We will overcome this tribulation.” Artemis said, and Algrond nodded.

“Behold, the Thirteen Demon Lords. We have divined their strength relative to each other and ranked them accordingly. Learn all you can about your foes.” Artemis ordered as she waved her hand towards the air in front of her.

Thirteen figures appeared above them, the magic of the Lady creating an illusionary image of the Demon Lords.

They were men and women of various builds, ages and ethnicities. Algrond could see that Artemis had arranged them left to right from strongest to weakest. Although she had said they divined their strength in relation to each other, Algrond knew that they had no idea of their power compared to their own.

Were these Demons as weak as he was amongst these Lords and Ladies, or stronger than even the Matriarch?

‘We lack information.’ Algrond thought.

His attention was drawn to the last of the Demons, the weakest according to their divinations. Demon Lord Mathew. He was known as ‘The Enduring’ amongst Demonkind, a revelation brought to them by the gods.

‘The Enduring managed to defeat Natisha and Nathaniel easily.’ Algrond thought. His grandchildren were leagues below him in strength, their abilities akin to puppies beside a full-grown wolf. But still, the ease with which he had dispatched them had him worried, especially since Reesh was in his own territory.

If Demon Lord Mathew was the weakest, how much stronger were the others?

“I would know your thoughts, Algrond of the Aeolian Lineage.” A soft voice spoke beside him. Turning, he found himself face to face with the Matriarch. She was silent for one so old and seemingly feeble. Obviously, a bluff used to keep others off guard. The Matriarch was as physically capable now as she ever was.

“Mathew the Enduring, the Thirteenth Demon Lord. He appeared in my territory and I sent my Grandchildren to face him. For a moment, I thought that he may have been a lost child of my Lineage. A byproduct of one of my…adventures.” Algrond admitted softly, and the Matriarch nodded at the admission.

“The Demons drape themselves in the flesh of humanity, but they are not similar to us, Algrond. The fact that he spared the siblings demonstrates that they have a much grander purpose here.”

“Such as?” Algrond asked.

“To spread the word of their ‘greatness.’ The Demons of old would claim a territory and would not relinquish it until their death. I myself killed three of their kind.” The Matriarch explained, pride in her accomplishments clear in her voice.”

“And now they have returned. Thirteen is an inauspicious number. I fear I will not be up to the task required of me, Matriarch. This Demon Lord is within my borders. I will require assistance.” Algrond pleaded, his voice so soft that only the Matriarch could hear him.

“You will have all that you require. As your father fought, so too will you. And together, we will all grow stronger. Killing a Demon is a feeling unlike any other. The Aether is intoxicating, Algrond.” The Matriarch said, patting him gently on the shoulder before going to speak to one of the other Lords.

Algrond looked back at the image of the young man, the Demon Lord of Reesh.

“The Enduring. I will put that name to the test.”