Standing in front of the valve-like door, Joe couldn't help but wonder aloud, “Hey Poppy, how can we enter the same Titan Hall of Fame from different floors?”
Poppy's response was quick and to the point. "Can explain with big-big word: con-vergence. See party chat for more."
TJ’s expression soured as he read the explanation. “So it’s a nexus point, huh? All zones can access it. There’s a catch though, isn’t there? That Lich really is an elitist bastard.”
Joe, still trying to piece it together, quickly skimmed through the info dump Poppy had dropped in the party chat. It explained how access was tiered: greens had VIP access, followed by oranges, and then reds. There was some convoluted system to keep the place from getting overcrowded. Typical elitist nonsense.
“You’ve got some balls, TJ,” Dawn said, her eyes scanning the area like they were being watched. “Don’t you care that the Lich can hear you? I remember in the induction room he droned on about being called Lord blah blah something. I tuned out until he got to the good stuff about choosing a class and items.”
“Lich doesn’t scare me,” TJ said, raising his voice a notch, as if daring the Lich to eavesdrop. “I was eaten whole by a dragon in my last life. I bend the knee to no one, didn’t do it then, sure as shit not starting now.”
Joe couldn’t help but remember the Lich’s warning about showing him the proper respect. Since leaving the induction, though, they hadn’t received any slaps on the wrist for ignoring his pompous titles. Maybe it was all part of the twisted game to keep them guessing which threats were real and which were only hot air.
“Hey Poppy, we’re ready to enter,” Joe said, trying to shake off the unease.
A notification popped up:
[There are two ascenders in the queue ahead of you. Estimated waiting time: one minute.]
Joe sighed. The whole situation reminded him of the impatience and frustration he used to feel when waiting to buy concert tickets online. Those were the days that inspired him to create his AI Butler. Oh, how he hated the waiting game.
“While we’re stuck here, I’ve got a question for you, Joe.” TJ crossed his arms.
Dawn, meanwhile, was tracing her fingers along the doorframe like she was looking for hidden runes or something.
“Fire away,” Joe said, doing his best to keep his tone casual, though his mind was already racing ahead to what awaited them.
“If I remember right, Caspar said we had trash or trade access through our user interfaces. So why the hell are we wasting time walking all the way here?”
“Because I’m not interested in window shopping.” Joe tapped his nose with a grin. “I want to get hands-on with these orbs. Can’t do that through a screen. Plus, using Quick Wit on the next avatar will give me an edge.”
TJ grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. “Okay, I can get behind that. You’re living up to your sneaky rogue status—I like it.”
The doors opened with a satisfying whoosh, cutting their conversation short and revealing the room beyond.
Inside, the place was buzzing with other ascenders, some in green hoodies, some in orange, but none in red. They milled about, talking in hushed tones, though there didn’t seem to be much in the way of camaraderie. Everyone was on edge, keeping an eye on everyone else.
As soon as they walked in, Joe could feel the eyes on them, followed by murmurs and whispers. Activating Quick Wit, he honed in on the nearest conversation.
A tall guy with a tight ponytail and a mean look on his face sneered. “Look, it’s the Titan Slayers. They look like wimps. Surprised they beat the Greensnare.”
His buddy, an elf with hair so perfect it looked like he was in a shampoo commercial, gave a bored shrug. “What makes you say that?”
“I watched the replay of them against Andras. They looked too dumb to find their way out of a paper bag. And gullible too.”
The elf smirked, his eyes cold and distant. “I disagree. Andras is a joke, an insult to all elves for choosing the bard class. No offense, but if it wasn’t sheer madness to scale this tower solo, I’d be doing it alone. Titan Slayers may have been defeated, but they didn’t lose their honor.”
“Yeah, well, I’d rather back Andras. No honor among thieves, and he’ll do whatever it takes to win the crystalline jackpot. I plan to be there when it happens.”
“So you can stab him in the back?”
“Ugh, no thanks. I’m not a rogue like you. But unless you’re useful to him, he’ll stab you first.”
Their conversation was cut short as a female changeling with punk spiked pink hair approached them. She had the kind of blue eyes that could stare down a charging bull. “You two still whining? Why are we even in the same faction?” She threw her hands up, exasperated.
The two guys just stared at her like lovesick puppies.
Dawn wasn’t impressed. She elbowed TJ, smirking. “See? That’s the kind of attitude that ruins alliances. Gotta keep your feelings in check and have each other’s backs.”
“Feelings in check, huh?” TJ eyed the trio. “More like keeping their dicks in their pants.”
“Yeah, they’re a bunch of dickheads.” Dawn nodded. “Glad you guys aren’t sleazeballs letting hormones get the better of you. No time for sex, romance, or sappy shit in this murder tower.”
“Yeah,” Joe said, managing a weak smile, hiding his disappointment. Romance wasn’t his priority here, but he liked Dawn and thought she might feel the same. Apparently, he was wrong.
His thoughts were interrupted by frantic mutterings around the room.
It hit him—killing the Greensnare had really put them on the map. Whether that was good or bad, he didn’t know yet, but the calculating looks they were getting weren’t comforting.
Pushing down the unease, he put on his best friendly smile and greeted those who didn’t seem to hate them on sight.
Upon their approach to the hall, the Greensnare avatar was grayed out with a notification above that read: Defeated: Titan Slayers.
Dawn’s eyes widened as she read it. “I wasn’t expecting that. This is turning into some kind of game show, naming us as the ones to beat. No wonder some of these people look like they’d stab us the moment our backs are turned.”
“Let them try.” TJ growled, clenching his fists. “Last time a kobold bandit tried that on my homeworld, I pulled the knife out of my back with my tail and blinded the bastard by carving his eyes out.”
The ascenders within earshot quickly backed away, clearly not wanting to be the next to cross TJ.
Joe clapped his hands, rubbing them together. “Let’s move on. We need to learn everything we can about the next titan on this floor.” His gaze drifted to the largest silhouette in the distance—the unknown titan they’d face on the thirteenth floor. The thought of what lay ahead made his throat tighten. With the mixed looks they were getting from other ascenders after TJ’s graphic comments, he wasn’t sure what was better: being seen as notorious or glorious.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
They approached the floor’s titan avatar, which was still locked. Joe opened the party chat.
Joe: Poppy, what’s the status on floor two? Any ascenders ventured out yet?
Poppy: Not supposed to tell you. Hint-hint: mana sickness in all zones, and many, many battlebox training sessions happening.
Joe got the message—few, if any, ascenders were brave enough to explore this floor yet.
TJ and Dawn circled the avatar, both looking grim when they rejoined Joe. He didn’t need Quick Wit to guess why—the silhouette was so wide it likely meant they’d be facing not one, but two titans. Worry lines creased Joe’s brow, but he forced himself to relax.
“Two Titans,” he said in a low voice.
TJ’s grim expression slowly morphed into a menacing grin. “Double the fun. Don’t sweat it now, Joe. You’ll crush that goddess chick in the battlebox and earn some sweet rewards.”
“TJ’s right.” Dawn said, her eyes never leaving the shrouded avatar. “Think of the big picture, Joe. You’re QRL 12 now. By the time we reach the titan—or titans—we’ll have ground our way through enough tower minions and battlebox challenges to deal with whatever it throws at us.”
Activating Quick Wit, Joe absorbed as much information as he could. The outline suggested the titans had wings, resembling Rodan, but he wouldn’t know for sure until more details were unlocked.
Using time currency to unlock it earlier crossed his mind—like using virtual money in those old games to get better gear. But if what Gaia said was true, reputation was important, and taking shortcuts might be viewed as cheating, especially by hardcore traditional gamers. It wasn’t a risk he wanted to take this early on, even if they had the currency to spare.
Taking some notes in his catalog, Joe made mental plans for the battle ahead. They wandered past the small crowds of ascenders who had lost interest in them and returned to their own strategies. Eventually, they reached the grand archway of the MadOrbz museum.
This time, Caspar’s sudden appearance didn’t startle them like before. The place was eerily empty, and Joe guessed most ascenders were using their user interfaces to make purchases. Grinning, he stepped forward and placed his hands on the counter. “Hello, Caspar. Got a question for you.”
Caspar, with his solemn demeanor, brightened at the sight of them. His translucent skin glowed faintly as he straightened his stiff bow. “Ah, Master Joe, how wonderful to see you again. I would be delighted to answer any questions you have.” There was a hint of eagerness in his tone that made Joe think the poor guy was lonely. Whatever Caspar was, he definitely thrived on company. Joe could relate—being lonely sucked.
“May I examine your decagon?” Caspar asked, his orb-like eye glowing with interest. Joe nodded, handing it over.
“I need to balance out my deck,” Joe explained, leaning on the counter with a casual shrug. “Since I can only have five in play during any one battle, I need to stay unpredictable, you know, keep them guessing. I’m going up against an ex-goddess—she’s a sorceress.”
Caspar’s eyebrow—well, where an eyebrow would be if he had one—slightly arched, but he stayed quiet. Joe watched him closely, half-expecting some dramatic gasp or warning.
Finally, the ghostly curator spoke. “With your current deck, you’re in trouble. Not to mention it’s sheer madness—a rogue going up against a sorceress with a god-tier level of knowledge empowering her. I would suggest the faction battlebox option instead. That way, you can rely on your party members to fill in the many gaps you have.”
Joe shook his head, chuckling. “I wish! Challenge is player versus player. I didn’t make the challenge.”
“That’s a pity,” Caspar said, his voice flat. “You’re at her mercy, then.”
“Are you saying it’s impossible?” TJ chimed in, his tone half-joking, half-concerned.
Caspar’s face remained a blank slate. “There’s about a one in a million chance—with the deck you have now and the fact you’re a human rogue facing a human sorceress.”
“So, you’re saying there’s a chance?” TJ grinned, nudging Joe. “Don’t be put off, man. I’ve faced worse odds as a hatchling. Improve your deck, get a practice session in, and you’ll be on the pig’s back.”
Joe couldn’t help but smile, appreciating TJ’s support, even if he wasn’t feeling quite as optimistic. But hey, that could change.
“What do we need to do to increase the odds in my favor?” Joe asked, leaning in as if Caspar was about to spill some top-secret strategy.
“Do you know her ascender number? If I knew who we were dealing with, I could better advise you. I’ve met several sorceresses already,” Caspar said, his tone matter-of-fact.
“Gaia, is the name she goes by,” Joe said.
“If it matters, you wouldn’t forget her,” TJ added with a knowing smirk.
“Yes, I do believe we’ve met,” Caspar said, his tone dropping. “Not the most pleasant of encounters, that’s all I can say.”
Dawn snorted. “Tell me about it.”
“I’m afraid I can’t,” Caspar said, completely missing the sarcasm. “Client confidentiality.”
Joe pulled out the catalog he’d bought from Caspar the last time they were there. This wasn’t something he could handle online, which is why he’d come in person. He flipped through the pages, something catching his eye.
“What are these?” he asked, his curiosity rising.
Caspar scanned the page, his fingers tapping a frantic rhythm on the counter without making a sound—a sight that was more than a little weird, even by Joe’s standards. Caspar’s silence dragged on, and Joe’s curiosity quickly morphed into concern.
“Is something wrong?” Joe asked, glancing at Dawn, who was shifting uneasily beside him like she was ready to bolt.
“These are... well, they’re like a hidden auction,” Caspar finally said, his voice low as if he expected someone to overhear. “It’s technically a bit controversial and not well-known. I debated whether to make them accessible in the online catalog through your user interfaces, but this one that you hold here is an older version.”
“But what does it mean?” Dawn asked, her impatience bubbling over.
“To put it delicately, these are MadOrbz of the recently deceased.”
“Dead man’s orbs?” TJ raised an eyebrow.
“We used to market them as ‘pre-loved’ items—a more tasteful term.” Caspar’s glossy eye rolled its gaze toward TJ. “There was demand until one ascender complained about finding traces of blood, and their MadOrbz reverted its form to the traits of their previous owner.”
Joe’s mind clicked into gear. His own orbs were shaped by strong memories from his past life, something every ascender seemed to have to face. He could see why these pre-loved orbs lost popularity, especially if they had a habit of reverting to the ‘factory settings’ of the previous owner mid-battle.
“How often did that happen?” Joe asked, trying to gauge the risk.
“Only once or twice, when there was a particularly strong connection to the previous owner. Even with the time currency price lowered, rumors spread that they were cursed items. And after that, I couldn’t even give them away.”
Joe inspected the MadOrbz more closely, his eyes lighting up as he recognized that a few of them could be effective against Gaia. “They’re Prime tier… is it possible to get this one brand-new?”
“No, that was what you would call a limited edition. It was seen as flawed, so no more were made. It’s definitely a bargain at five years—the original owner, an elf, spent 50 years on it when purchasing it brand new. Unfortunately for him, he was unable to maintain a consistent level of mana particles to deflect the toxicity. That eventually led to his demise.”
Joe grimaced. “Sounds like radiation poisoning.”
“Shit on me.” TJ gasped. “That’s a hefty price to pay for something that ended up killing him.”
“Have you thought about a combo orb?” Caspar suggested with a slight twinkle in his otherwise stoic demeanor.
“Yeah,” Joe closed the catalog. “I’ve been relying heavily on one affinity, and I know I need to be more versatile.”
Caspar tapped his temple, a rare show of enthusiasm. “I’m glad you’re thinking. You’d be surprised at how many ascenders make impulse buys because they like the sound of an item or it seems impressive to their friends.”
Dawn nodded in agreement. “I’ve no doubt she’ll rely on more than one affinity. Expect her to have a combo orb or other disruptive types—no way she’s going to rely solely on earth or fire knowing she’s facing you, an earth-and-water-based opponent.”
“Good point. She’ll know your moves before you do.” Caspar grasped an orb from the second shelf.
Joe paled when he saw the cost. “Do you have pre-loved versions of these?”
Caspar looked a little disappointed, probably hoping for a bigger sale, but he gave an honest response. “If you’re willing to take the risk, Master Joe, may I suggest these pre-loved versions in your catalog?”
Joe scanned the list, feeling more overwhelmed by the second. Having more time currency didn’t make these choices any easier; in fact, it only seemed to complicate things.
Seeing the unease growing in Joe’s expression, Caspar leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a more confidential tone. “If I were you, I’d seriously consider a juggler MadOrbz or one of those ‘get out of jail’ MadOrbz.”
TJ’s eyes lit up, and a grin spread across his face as if he’d just struck gold. “One of those ‘get out of jail’ orbs could really save your bacon, Joe.”
Joe paused, thinking about how he used to handle this stuff back on Earth. He’d always take his time, letting his AI butler sift through all the options before he bought anything.
But now? Yeah, no time for that.
Can’t sit here overthinking it—I just gotta trust my gut and roll with it.