Chapter 29 – Floor 3: Part 3

Snapping his fingers, Mathew created a towering inferno of flames that engulfed two more of the small Goblins who were distracted by a fallen player. Satisfied with the results, he was just about to look for a new target when a shout next to him shattered his focus.

“Look out!” Greg shouted, shoving Mathew from the side.

Not able to maintain his balance on the slippery tiles of the roof, Mathew began to slide down toward the street, over ten feet below. Scrambling to grab onto anything to stop his fall, he had just gripped Greg when another explosion rocked the building beneath them.

Shattered clay tiles, debris and dust covered them as a giant object, likely hurled from one of the catapults outside the city, struck the side of the building they were using.

Not able to halt themselves, the pair fell over the side as the building began to rumble, shake and groan.

Mathew landed heavily on the paved street, knocking the wind out of him. He was struggling to recover when a weight hit him from behind, driving him back down onto the ground. He heard Greg curse when the deafening roar of the collapsing building silenced them.

Crawling on hands and knees as hard as he could without catching his breath, Mathew nearly made it to the other side of the street when half of the building they were just on crashed to the ground. A massive amount of dust obscured everything, and he could hear nothing but the striking of stone and brick around him for long minutes.

Huddled against the opposite building, the pair waited for it to stop while shielding their heads with their arms.

After a few minutes, it finally stopped, and Mathew cautiously lowered his arms to look around them.

The remnants of the building were sprawled across the street, nearly reaching where they had been huddled. Mathew’s arms and hands were cut and bloody. The amount of shattered stone and brick flying about had been too much for the Cower’s Brand to protect him from.

Coughing from the amount of dust in the air, he looked over at Greg. The man was grey from the dust, matched with bright red from the blood running down his face from a nasty cut over his eye.

“You alright?” Mathew asked, cautiously regaining his feet.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Greg replied, climbing to his feet only to fall back against the wall and clutch his head.

“Woah, hold on! You took a knock to the head. We’ll need to get you a potion for that.” Mathew said, wincing as he examined his companion’s wound. Carefully, he wrapped an arm around him and helped Greg stand upright.

“We’re blocked off from the front. We’ll go down to the end of this street and cut across to the Temple.” Mathew whispered. The debris had effectively blockaded the way to the gates. They could probably climb their way over, but with Greg’s injury, it was better to retreat and take the long way back to the Temple.

One step at a time, the pair returned to the Temple just as the morning sun was cresting the horizon.

Page Break

Name: Mathew Larson

Discipline: Coward (Level 2) -> Coward (Level 3)

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Charlatan (Level 5)

Level: 7 -> 8

Aether Required For next Level: 28000

Aether: 33854 -> 5854

Attributes

Body: 2.1 -> 2.3

Mind: 2.7 -> 2.8

Spirit: 0.3 – 0.3

Blessings

Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)

The Coward’s Brand (Tier 1)

“Confirm.” Mathew said.

The familiar rush of a level-up swept across him, driving away his tiredness and healing his wounds. He felt refreshed and healthy, revitalized in a way that made him feel like he was back at his peak.

“Done?” Greg asked, looking equally pleased with the results of his own level-up.

The man from Vermont had gone from ‘Poacher’ to ‘Trapper,’ but Mathew still didn’t know the specifics of his Blessings. Greg said they were passives for his crossbow and ability to track targets, but he didn’t go into depth about them.

“I’m good. Level three Coward.” Mathew replied, and his companion scoffed.

“Coward! I can’t believe you thought that was a good Discipline to choose.” Greg mocked.

“Hey! It already saved my life. It’s worth a little embarrassment.” Mathew responded.

“What’s embarrassing is what you’re wearing. And I don’t just mean the absurdity of wearing a suit in a warzone. You’re wearing rags.” Greg said, pulling on Mathew’s open jacket.

It was riddled with holes and tears. One entire sleeve was gone, and even though he had used a ‘laundry tab’ to remove the dirt and blood, there was no salvaging the outfit.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Mathew retorted. Greg was in no better shape. They both looked like they had pulled clothing out of a dumpster, with barely a whole piece of cloth between them.

“At least mine was functional.” Greg said, already pulling up the ‘shop’ function of the wristband. Following suit, Mathew was soon going through the tabs.

Clothing began with mundane, small items like underwear and socks before going to complete outfits at increasingly absurd prices.

With only a little over five thousand Aether remaining, Mathew didn’t even bother looking at the magical items that cost well over fifty thousand Aether a piece for the most basic enchantments.

A t-shirt, jeans, and a heavy and padded jacket with comfortable boots cost him the entire amount he had left, but it made him feel like a human again. Greg, rather than switch things up, bought nearly the exact thing he was wearing before. Only the green camouflage was now blacks and greys.

“Better?” Mathew asked sarcastically as he led the way out of the Temple. The battle had ended only a short while ago, with the results being the same as they were the previous night. A whole plaza’s worth of dead in front of the gates, both human and Goblins, and the stalemate unbroken.

Already, Mathew could see new players arriving from the lower floors, their dazed and confused expressions a dead giveaway. He wished he could help them, maybe do something decisive to turn the tide, but he was out of ideas.

He had thought of a repeat of August City, maybe by stacking combustibles and barrels of tar in front of the gates to ignite, but Greg had warned him that they were trying to ‘protect’ the city. The last thing they needed was uncontrollable fires spreading everywhere.

Besides that, it had been raining every day for hours, ensuring the ground and everything in the city was soaked.

“We need to do something. We need an edge, something to make a difference.” Mathew mused out loud.

“The only edge we can get is gaining enough levels to push through these bastards. I don’t think there’s a level cap, not like on the first floor. We survive long enough, and we should be able to end this.” Greg replied.

“You mean ‘if’ we survive long enough. We’re going to need a new place to fight tonight. Any ideas?” Mathew countered

“Not on a rooftop. I’m not fond of falling. Maybe we set up on that pile of debris we left behind? Stack some more, and make it into a fortification. If things get hairy, we can always retreat through a nearby building or down the streets.” Greg clarified.

“It’s better than nothing. I’m a Coward, remember? Anywhere that I can run away is perfect for me.”

“Come on, let’s check it out and then get some rest.” Greg said while chuckling at the comment. He led the way to where they had nearly died the night before.

The wreckage was sobering to see in the grey light of day. The rain had removed all the dust in the air, leaving everything plain to see. Large chunks of the building were on top of a hill of debris, with the smaller and more loose materials on the bottom.

After a few hours, they had a setup they could live with. A steep slope led to a large beam and some stones they had placed together that they could hide behind. If a Goblin wanted to reach them, it would need to climb up six or seven feet of loose debris so that they would have difficulty finding footing.

Tired but content, they returned to their borrowed home to rest for the coming night. Hopefully, the Goblins wouldn’t have any new surprises for them.

It was a naïve hope.