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Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story
Chapter 65 – Floor 7: Part 5

Chapter 65 – Floor 7: Part 5

Chapter 65 – Floor 7: Part 5

Mathew had taken to searching the battlefield after every encounter he had with the Fiends. At first, he had only been looking for items to use or sell to the shop for Aether, but after a while, he had an unshakeable feeling that he would find Emily amongst the dead.

He would look at every face for hours at a time, the days stretched into a week, but he thankfully never found her. Of the millions of people that were arriving, he never saw her.

But the sense of relief he felt at the lack of her presence never lasted long; the anxiety and worry would return, and Mathew would inevitably return to searching the faces around him for hers.

The constant fighting, the endless fields of the dead, the screams and cries of the dying and the ever-present crimson sun and bloody moon began to wear on him. Persistent exhaustion that couldn’t be relieved by levelling up or rest crept into his bones, his very soul, until the days and nights blurred.

Mathew lost track of time. He operated like he was on autopilot unless he was in the thick of battle. Once his life was at risk, it was as if he came alive again. Nothing seemed real unless he was fighting the Fiends. There was something inside of him that revelled in it.

Perhaps it was his new Discipline influencing him, or maybe it was the only way for his mind to cope with the horrors he was experiencing. Whatever the reason, Mathew grew to enjoy it.

There were times when he was alone and resting that Mathew feared he was becoming addicted to the violence and the thrill of combat. During these moments, when he was covered in a cold sweat and his body would shake, he could recall his time on this floor with perfect clarity.

Thankfully, the feeling would fade for Mathew's sanity, and the memories would dull and blur. No one should remember the dreadfulness of this floor, not if they wanted to keep their mind intact.

It had taken them two days to close the first portal. The losses amongst the Players had been devastating. Mathew didn’t know how many they had lost; he hadn’t bothered to inquire from Samuel, but he estimated that only a third of those who had arrived with him were still alive.

By the end of the first week, after their assault on a second Portal, most of those with Mathew were new arrivals.

“Firsties.” Mathew muttered, recalling the term he had heard when he first arrived in the Tower. They had called Level 1 players by that title, and he remembered Maria had said she never bothered to learn the newcomer's names because they died so quickly.

Then she died.

He had developed a similar habit here. Aside from Samuel, Mathew didn’t know a single person amongst the thousands in their camp. He recognized a few faces, those that had survived the longest, but even those were becoming fewer as the days went on.

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“That’s new.” Mathew pointed at the weapon that Samuel had gripped in his right hand.

It was a mace, the head a large piece of black metal shaped like a snarling demon face. It had an ominous aura about it, entirely at odds with Samuel’s halo of white light and warmth that he always had about him. It had darkened since he came to this Floor, and he spoke as if his connections to the gods were weaker than it once was.

Samuel observed the weapon briefly before shrugging.

“It’s magical. I’ve grown tired of every weapon I use breaking after only a few swings. The item description states that this one is nearly indestructible, along with providing an enhancement to my strength and the force of my attacks. You should look at purchasing some magical items as well.” Samuel advised, and Mathew shook his head.

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“Not yet. They're too expensive for me right now. That must have cost a fortune.” Mathew replied.

“A million Aether, but it is worth it. The benefits of levelling are not as prominent as I would like. This seemed like a better use of Aether, although I don’t care for its aesthetics.” Samuel frowned at the demonic face of the mace.

“Everything on this floor is tainted.” Mathew commented. The shop was quickly changing. The Outer Deity’s influence affected all the items for sale, twisting them in various ways. The food was becoming tasteless, the water had an oily taste, and the clothing was foreign and strange.

Mathew had also looked at the magical items, but where they would once be aligned with the various gods on each floor, they were now a mix of the god of Righteous Subjugation and the Outer Deity. What was upsetting to most of the players was that the Outer Deity’s items were generally more powerful for the same price of Aether as their Tower counterparts.

“What can I do for you? I doubt you came all the way out here to show off your mace.” Mathew asked.

They were in the remains of a city, and the ruins stretched for dozens of miles in each direction. Not much remained of the structures, just hollow shells and rubble. They had been here for a few days. The last Portal they had closed had been at the heart of the city. Many of the players were taking shelter in some of the collapsed buildings, and Mathew followed suit.

His temporary home was a small hut with a half-collapsed roof. There wasn’t any rain or poor weather to concern himself with, so the state of the structure’s ceiling didn’t matter. He just needed something to block the wind and the dust that it carried.

“We need a scouting party to go east, and I recommended you to lead it. I know your talents don’t lend toward stealth or reconnaissance, but I trust your judgement.” Samuel clarified.

The east of the city gradually sloped in a way that led Mathew to believe that it was once a port, the sea having long since dried out. They hadn’t had any contact with any of the other groups fighting in the area.

They had been on their own for nearly a week. Even the reinforcements had stopped arriving, although Mathew suspected they were being redirected elsewhere for the time being. Things had been too peaceful here since they had closed the last portal.

Normally, peace would be good, but this floor was a desolate wasteland. They needed the Aether from the Fiends to purchase what they needed to survive, not just to grow stronger. It was better to hunt the Fiends rather than be the hunted.

“One of the ‘Oracles’ divined that there may be a new Portal to our west. I’ll lead a group to investigate, but I want to know that we have a path to retreat if things get bad. Go east until you find a place that we can shelter if necessary or until you find other players or Fiends.”

The Oracles were players with divination Blessings, something that had been invaluable on this Floor. They couldn’t predict the future, at least not on this Floor, but they gained precious insight into what was happening in the world around them.

“I’ll send you a message if I find anything.” Mathew confirmed, and Samul nodded wearily. The man seemed…drained. Like a candle that was burning out and barely able to drive away the darkness.

Mathew didn’t know him well, but he was closer to Samuel than anyone else living on this Floor. The man assured him he was fine, and Mathew believed him, but he hoped that Samuel would pull through. Everyone in the camp depended on him.

“Three days. If you don’t find anything worthwhile in that time, come back.” Samuel ordered.

Before leaving, Samuel paused, and Mathew thought he was about to say something else. The Zealot hesitated, unsure if he should, before shaking his head. There seemed to be a darkness about him, a heaviness that Mathew knew was getting worse.

Mathew gathered his few belongings, placing them into his inventory, before putting on his long, thick padded jacket.

The 7th floor wasn’t cold, but the wind was constant, and it carried the dust and dirt with it. Mathew added a long scarf to the outfit to keep the dirt from blowing down the back of his neck and a pair of leather gloves.

Suited and ready, Mathew went to meet the others. There were a few dozen of them, a relatively small scouting party compared to the tens of thousands of people in the camp. But smaller groups moved quicker and were able to hide better than a large party.

Taking a quick head count and confirming their mission with the group, Mathew led them out of the ruins of the city and down the slope toward the former sea bed. When they were outside the city, Mathew looked at the ruins and saw Samuel standing on the outskirts.

The large man watched them for a moment, his figure lonely against the horizon, before turning away and disappearing from sight.

Mathew spent his first few weeks on the Seventh floor amongst the scouts, searching the former seabed for shelter and other players. He found several groups, adding their numbers to his own and fighting a few small bands of Fiends that they came upon.

By the time he returned to the ruined city, well past the three days allotted to him, everyone he had known there was dead and Samuel was gone.