Alex woke up in the inn’s bed he paid for the night before. He walked down the stairs and found the space to be lively as patrons ate their morning meals. His 240 Tower Points dropped down another 50 to 190 as he got his meal and drink to start the day.
“I really need to earn some more points and some XP too,” he thought. The XP had stalled for far too long.
He looked around the inn’s main floor as he ate. Alex looked outside and the windows were wet with rain. He didn’t hear any further signs of a storm. Alex tapped into his electricity manipulation and tried to feel the air around the windows and near the door. The currents in the air were few. He surmised that the rain wouldn’t be preceding a storm any time today.
In the room were mostly people of non-human races. Their people had failed the Tower in some way. Not excelling and climbing fast enough so now what was left of their selves were in the Tower doing what they could to survive instead of gain power. The rest of the people in the inn were not from the Seekers or the Golden Doves, Alex had made sure of that last night. He wanted to go unnoticed and avoid running into conflict while gaining power. Alex knew he needed to search out the Seekers to find Rich eventually, but he was not ready yet.
Alex focused on his hearing and activated his Alter Senses ability. His vision faded a little and the taste of the food as he finished eating became bland. Ignoring that new sensation, he listened to the voices in the room and especially those coming from other humans.
“-head south. There were some good fights there-”
“No, we should head east. A few people died last week in the south. It is bad luck. We should play it safe and stay with the-”
“This food isn’t great. We should have hit up that new burger place near-”
“I need to repair my sword before we head out. You should also consider upgrading your gear-”
“We need to find a safe place to camp for the night. The undead are more active after dark-”
“-the Seekers are recruiting again."
"They are always recruiting if you are strong enough or find something unique enough to justify it."
Alex stopped his mana use and the sounds faded back and his sight returned. He looked down at the food he had remaining. The taste felt strange to him after he used Alter Senses. He stopped eating and got up out of his chair. The rain was still pouring outside as he pulled his cloak tight and headed outside.
Alex found himself standing before the towering walls of the city. The ancient stones, weathered by time and countless battles, loomed above him, casting long shadows in the fading light. He began his ascent, climbing the worn stone steps that spiraled up the wall. The rain fell steadily, soaking his cloak and making the steps slick beneath his boots.
Reaching the top, he found himself amidst the city guards. They were a hardy lot, their faces etched with the lines of many battles fought and won. They paid him little mind, their attention focused on the task at hand. They stood silently watching. Alex moved to the edge of the wall, his gaze sweeping over the landscape beyond.
In the distance, he could see groups of adventurers, their weapons glinting in the dim light as they engaged in combat with the undead. He watched them, his eyes keenly observing their movements, their strategies, their strengths, and their weaknesses. Each swing of a sword, each cast of a spell, was a dance of life and death, a struggle for survival in a world teetering on the brink of chaos.
Feeling a familiar tingle at the back of his mind, Alex activated his ability, Alter Senses. He focused on his sight, willing it to become sharper, clearer. The world around him seemed to fade away, his other senses dulling as his vision grew more acute. The city walls, once a blur of grey and brown, now stood out in stark detail. He could see every crack, every moss-covered stone, every tiny insect crawling across the surface.
His gaze returned to the battlefield. Now, he could see the undead more clearly. He could make out the rotting flesh hanging from their bones, the hollow, lifeless eyes staring blankly ahead, and the ragged clothes clinging to their skeletal frames. He could see the different types, each one more horrifying than the last. There were zombies, their bodies bloated and decaying, shambling forward with a mindless hunger. There were skeletons, their bones clicking together in a macabre symphony of death. And there were wraiths, their forms barely visible, like wisps of smoke on the wind.
Alex watched them, his mind racing. He thought, "These creatures... they're unlike anything I've ever seen. The zombies, their bodies are falling apart, but they keep moving. They're driven by an insatiable hunger. The skeletons, they're just bones, but they move with a purpose, a deadly precision. And the wraiths... they're almost ethereal like they're not entirely of this world. They all seem to be held together by some undead or necromantic magic. Some seem to be smarter than others but generally follow a mob mentality. They search out people that exit the gates. I wasn’t up early enough to see them open it, but I suspect a large bombardment is needed to safely clear the area before the doors are opened and adventurers let out. The singular types of enemies are interesting. I wonder what kind of loot they drop. It is not like on the first floor where ores, plants, and other things can be easily collected from the ground. All of the points and loot seem to come from the fighting. It all revolves around the need for climbers to make paths through this floor."
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Alex continued to observe, his mind cataloging every detail. The zombies seemed to come in a variety of sizes. Some were small and fast. Others were larger and slower. Some still were large and fast. The adventurers worked as groups to take down a group of undead. They used their skills to draw some skeletons and zombies away from the larger group and kill them quickly before the sounds of battle carried too far. Most of the undead were monsters that fought with their hands but that wasn’t all the case. Some of the wraiths used ranged attacks. Their spectral energy launched from their bodies causing destruction. A few of the zombies also glowed red and had magical seeming energy holding themselves together. As they got damaged, they bled but collected blood as a result and were sent into a rage that adventurers fighting the creature had to deal with. Alex continued to notate the varieties and make note of those that seemed the most dangerous.
The groups fighting the undead were quick and coordinated. Together they watched their surrounding on the battlefield while claiming as many undead lives as they could.
Alex's gaze swept across the battlefield, his enhanced vision picking out the distinct clusters of adventurers engaged in combat with the undead. Each cluster had its unique approach and a distinct strategy that set them apart.
The first cluster that caught his attention was a band of agile figures, moving like shadows. They struck quickly and disappeared before the undead could react. Their strategy was to isolate and eliminate, drawing away smaller groups of zombies and skeletons from the main horde. They used their speed and stealth to their advantage, darting in and out of the fray, their blades flashing in the dim light. The undead fell before them, their rotting bodies collapsing in heaps.
Next, he noticed a group of heavily armored figures, standing firm against the undead onslaught. Their shields formed an impenetrable wall. Their strategy was simple: hold the line. They used their strength and resilience to withstand the undead's attacks, their weapons cleaving through bone and rotting flesh. Among their ranks, figures radiated a soft glow, their hands moving in patterns of healing and support. The undead broke against them like waves against a cliff, their numbers dwindling with each passing moment.
Then there were the robed figures, standing at a distance. Their hands moved in the air as they unleashed their magic. Their strategy was to control the battlefield, using their spells to manipulate the environment and hinder the undead. They summoned walls of fire, created pits of quicksand, and hurled bolts of lightning. The undead were incinerated, trapped, or electrocuted, their bodies disintegrating under the onslaught of arcane energy.
Other groups were more mixed in their path combinations. With fighters, rangers, and mages all mixed in the fighting together. They seemed to be just as effective in fighting as all the others.
Finally, he saw the shadowy figures, moving through the rain clouded day, their presence barely noticeable. Their strategy was to sow chaos and confusion, using their stealth and dark magic to disrupt the undead. They would appear out of nowhere, their daggers finding the weak spots in the undead's defenses, their spells causing the undead to turn on each other. The undead were cut down, their ranks thrown into disarray.
Each group was distinct, and disparate in their tactical approaches. As Alex watched from his vantage point, his gaze sweeping over the diversified factions, he couldn't help but acknowledge the uniqueness of each, their strategies as diverse as the colors of a palette. Their positions were well calculated, each maintaining a safe distance from their neighbor, yet clinging close enough to the protective walls that their cries for assistance could easily resonate if need be. This delicate balance in positioning, he observed, bore the hallmark of mutual understanding—a silent agreement of respecting the territory and resources of each other, an implicit accord of not encroaching upon the other's domain.
Alex reached out with his magic. The rain had lessened a little. He felt for any lightning or electricity that might be forming in the area. He expanded his range and pulled on everything he could in the air. As his mana dwindled rapidly, he pulled everything he could harness into himself, feeling the electrifying pulse of energy gathered close.
At his beckoning, the air surrounding him came alive with vibrant electric energy, crackling with the potential for destruction. A brief, brilliant flash of lightning arced from his hand, illuminating his surroundings in a stark, white light. It fizzled out at a safe distance, not more than an arm's length away from him, casting long, dark shadows that danced and flickered in the aftermath.
Alex couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, revelling in the thrilling manifestation of his magic. The spell he had been able to conjure was not lethal, it wouldn't take down an undead, but it represented progress. It was a small victory in his ongoing quest to master his power, a testament to his growing control and understanding of his capabilities. The weather wasn’t perfect for such a spell, and it wasn't a full-fledged lightning bolt, but it was a start.
A seed of hope was planted in Alex's heart as he envisaged himself commanding a colossal lightning bolt from the heavens. A tool of such power could tip the scales significantly, but he needed time, the right conditions, and a whole lot of patience. But until that time came, he had to bide his time, sharpen his skills, and wait for all the variables to align perfectly. Until then, he was bound to the whims of the weather, his strength, and his developing mastery of lightning magic.
Alex turned away from the edge of the wall looking for a place to rest. He needed to wait for a storm to come and he wasn’t going to do it in the rain.