Chapter 3 – Confrontation
Morgan attempted to access the demon’s data on his HUD and was greeted with a screen that made him both smile in relief for having worked but then also frown by how little it revealed about the demon.
Name: Azazel First of His Name
Race: Arch Nephilim
Title: Guardian of the Celestial Gate
Aspect: Mind and ????
Level: ????
Morgan studied Azazel’s features as he strolled across the burning sands. He walked unhurriedly directly towards Morgan while retaining eye contact. Morgan took the time to study Azazel’s features more closely.
Azazel wore a full suite of midnight black coloured armour that appeared almost to flow over his entire body perfectly accentuating his deeply defined but not overly large muscles underneath. The armour did not extend to Azazels face but now that Morgan looked closely his wings appeared to be actually be connected to the back of his cuirass.
The armour was inlaid with intricately etched gold and silver that seem to glow and dim in time to what Morgan assumed could only be the steady thrum of a heart beat.
Azazel stopped in his tracks two metres from Morgan and said, “You have passed the first test of indominable spirit and will, these others have not. I am Azazel the first true born Nephilim if you wish to pass through the portal behind me you must defeat me utterly”.
Morgan motioned to Azazel to wait a moment, to which Azazel nodded allowing him a few minute of respite. The heat from the burning sand made concentrating very difficult despite the fact that he was wearing his light blue and white lesser wyvern scale armour that refracted all but the most ferocious of heat. The wyvern that it was forged from had lived inside an inactive volcano and was his reward for successfully striking the killing blow all those years ago.
Morgan wet his tongue with saliva and swallowed there was no turning back. He thought back to how he had started his journey as a twenty something college dropout stumbling from job to job aimlessly not sure where his life was going. Only to find himself in Washington D.C. on vacation when the first Tower shook the earth and the announcement was made by that ominous voice he could still hear it
The Deities of the Tower favour you challengers. Use the Tower grow strong, become In-dominatable, become un bound, become a deity, no one class will be able to defeat the Tower, gather together let none stand in your way for a judgement and The End grows near.
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Subsequent announcements were made but the one that stuck out in Morgan’s mind most was the first, when he had stumbled upon the rare named skill In-Dominatable after his first ten years in the tower his class had changed to In-Dominatable Warrior.
Morgan in his travels never encountered another person with an In-Dominatable class. After his class updated, Morgan suspected that at least some of the announcements made were meant to be taken literally.
Academic experts throughout the years had come up with contradicting hypothesises that had helped clear certain more challenging floors of the tower. These experts had identified deirrific bloodlines that could be used by humanity.
However, over the years the war lords and leaders of groups, that would later become tribes, fought constantly for power and control. The deirrific bloodline research was deemed too powerful to fall into enemy hands so no records were committed to paper. These academics passed on some knowledge to subordinates, but they themselves slowly succumbed to assassinations by rival forces or were forced into hiding without access to the resources needed to complete their work.
Morgan himself had only learned the details of the research after his friend and mentor Andrew had disappeared, presumed dead, during a wyvern hunt.
All these connections and thoughts raced through Morgan’s mind at breakneck speed only a moment had passed, such was his intelligence stat. Slowly realisation dawned on his face humanity needed to take every announcement literally they were a guide from the Tower or at least what ever entity made the announcements on behalf of the Tower to help humanity succeed.
Morgan’s heart fell as realisation finally dawned; he may not be able to succeed but he now had no choice but to commit. He withdrew from his bag of holding Hearts Bane his sword and shield. They were a high tier artifact that had dropped in his last dungeon dive and by far the envy of his fellow champions as they were not only soul bound but of artifact quality only one step below divine.
Morgan entered a fighter’s stance crouching low, letting the shield protect his body while raising his sword above the lip of the shield like an axe ready to cleave and prob his opponent for any weakness. Azazel nodded that he was also ready. Reaching behind his back he unsheathed a truly massive double handed red flamed sword from what appeared to be a scabbard that ran the length of his back.
Morgan used his two most powerful skills bull rush and cleave to close the distance with Azazel. Azazel stood stock still appraising Morgan curiously and almost in pity. Before Morgan closed the distance between them Azazel abruptly disappeared, Morgan felt a tightening in his chest and the feeling of warm water running down his cuirass.
Morgan looked down in shock to his chest, he could see a vicious hole in the middle of his body the edge of his heart still beating but now clearly visible. The fact that he was still standing and not a limp noodle on the floor was a testament to his monstrous constitution, regeneration and health stats.
Azazel had reappeared in front of Morgan a split second after Morgan had looked down. While he took no pleasure in killing he had made a contract with the Tower and his Deities to only allow those who were worthy through the portal. He could tell Morgan had passed many of the prerequisites but without all the tools the Tower provided Morgan was judged and found wanting.
Just as Morgan fell to his knees and was about to close his eyes lamenting his failure a strange light missed pooled around the room. Morgan felt his breathing become easier, his wound no longer dripped blood and he no longer felt pain. Looking around the room the mist coalesced to take the form of the strange beige gnome. Being on his knees Morgan was at about eye level with the gnome that he remembered was called Sebastian.