Novels2Search
Tower of Champions [LitRPG]
Book 3 - Chapter 19: White Hell [2]

Book 3 - Chapter 19: White Hell [2]

The silvery balls bubbled intensely, contorting as the chains lining the warrior’s arms rustled, expanding at a frightening pace and embedding themselves into the thick, icy surroundings. The bubbling silver morphed into wicked hooks, which the champion eagerly grabbed, his beady eyes locked on Scott, his smile cruel and predatory.

Scott met the humanoid’s gaze with cold indifference. “You really didn’t think this through, did you?” he began, his voice calm as he casually observed the chains crisscrossing the area, restricting movement for everyone within. “How long ago was the incident at Enchanted Heights?” he asked, his tone almost conversational.

The warrior sneered, his laughter soft and mocking. “What’s that got to do with anything? Are you getting scared already?” he taunted, his voice tinged with disappointment. “I expected more from you. What a bore this is going to be,” he sighed, almost regretful.

Scott shook his head, glancing toward the elven party, their composure shattered, faces pale with dread. “You’d revive even if you die, right?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips. His words only deepened the terror in their hearts, but they instinctively nodded, compelled by a primal fear they couldn’t suppress. “That’s good,” Scott muttered, almost to himself.

The warrior’s sneer deepened. “That you’d turn away from your opponent in battle; I applaud your stupidity,” he snarled, his form blurring as he manifested in front of Scott. “Now, die!” he roared, thrusting both hooks toward Scott’s neck, eager to tear it apart. The chains responded, rustling fiercely, some racing toward the elves, others aiming to wrap around Scott, intent on suppressing the voidweaver.

Scott turned back to the warrior, his expression unchanged, as the approaching hooks reflected in his ominous eyes. The chains found their mark on the elves, binding them tightly as their muffled cries filled the air. In the next instant, the trio exploded into a gory mess of flesh and bones. The chains expanded, greedily absorbing every drop of blood from the mangled corpses. The hooks neared Scott’s neck, and the warrior’s smile brightened—until two miniature nihilistic portals intercepted them before they could touch Scott’s skin.

“Impossible!” the warrior blurted out, his voice betraying a growing panic. The chains squeezed around Scott, but like the hooks, blackened portals halted their advance.

“As I said, you really didn’t think this through,” Scott repeated, the yellow sign flickering ominously in his eye. The warrior’s eyes locked with Scott’s, and a wave of cold dread washed over him. The man before him suddenly seemed larger, more formidable, and far more terrifying than before.

No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening… Why can’t I move? The warrior’s mind raced, but his limbs refused to obey, as though he were a stick sinking into a tar pit, fated to be swallowed by the inky abyss. Cold sweat broke out across his forehead, and his lips quivered uncontrollably. Move, damn it! he screamed inwardly, but his body betrayed him. Am I… am I, afraid?

He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the yellow sign, the suffocating pressure growing more intense with each passing second.

“It’s been over a year since the incident at Enchanted Heights,” Scott continued, casually raising the War Hammer of the Mad God. “What made you think I was like any of those unambitious fools who chose to live comfortably?” His arm came to a halt midair, the weight of his words sinking into the warrior's mind.

The warrior remained frozen in place, his gaze locked with Scott’s, paralyzed by fear. “A swift and painful death, huh. You’re in luck—that’s my specialty.”

Scott’s arm descended, and the warrior screamed silently within, desperately trying to summon every ounce of power to escape the impending calamity. A sickening bang echoed as the war hammer crushed through half of the warrior’s skull, sending a spray of blood and brain matter splattering across the icy ground. The chains around the warrior rustled fiercely, as if alive, their sentience awakened and angered by the death of their host.

Before the warrior's body could even hit the ground, the chains reacted, binding the lifeless corpse with a ferocity that shattered the surrounding ice. They coiled tighter and tighter, greedily absorbing the essence of the fallen champion, the crimson luster of the chains shifting to a dark, silvery hue as the silvery balls fused with them. In mere seconds, the chains had consumed the corpse entirely, their form swelling like monstrous, living serpents.

An ear-shattering roar suddenly erupted within the area, causing Scott to instinctively lower his gaze, shock flickering across his usually composed face. He stared at the War Hammer of the Mad God, now throbbing with ominous energy. Tens of thousands of dark tendrils erupted from the weapon, lashing out and attaching themselves to the silver chains, which shuddered in place as if caught in a terrible struggle.

The War Hammer of the Mad God is corrupting an ego weapon!

Before Scott’s eyes, the tendrils rippled through the sentient chains, tearing them apart as the snake-like binds willingly surrendered, allowing themselves to be devoured. The once massive chains visibly shrank, their diminishing size making the War Hammer of The Mad God gleam with an even more radiant luster. Parts of the ominous weapon emerged from the tendrils' grasp, though most of it remained shrouded in darkness.

A sharp crack echoed through the air, and suddenly, a large section of the chains snapped off, shooting toward Scott’s arm with blinding speed. He tried to summon the nihilistic portals, but the war hammer's power nullified his efforts. The silver chains coiled around his right arm, and as they did, the war hammer began to twist and contort. It merged with the tip of the chain, transforming into a blackened pendant that now hung from the sleek, serpentine links.

[The War Hammer of the Mad God has been successfully upgraded!]

[The War Hammer of the Mad God has successfully merged with the Chains of Oblivion!]

The Chains of Oblivion are merging with the Nihilistic Zone!

The Nameless One peeks at you! The Nameless One peeks at the War Hammer of the Mad God! The Nameless One stops looking at you!

Your nature beckons Madness! The Authority of Madness notices your existence!

The pendant on Scott’s arm trembled violently as several tendrils shot out, racing toward the notification that had just announced his existence to the authority. With a swift strike, they shattered it without hesitation. Scott stood frozen, his mouth slightly agape, struggling to process the sequence of events that had just unfolded. He knew the warrior posed no real threat, especially after analyzing his stats. The humanoid was only a level 60 warrior, with his domain being the only noteworthy aspect.

Scott pondered whether the warrior’s confidence stemmed from his domain or from the assumption that Scott’s strength shouldn’t have grown significantly since he had left Enchanted Heights less than three years ago. From the warrior's perspective, it seemed unlikely that he could have gained considerable power in such a short time.

Scott tried to reread the notifications, but a sudden chill seized his being, compelling him to turn around. His eyes, now cold and calculating, locked onto a familiar figure—someone who felt eerily known yet remained a stranger. The figure’s hair blazed like raging fire, and their body radiated a brilliance that outshone diamonds. Their eyes, like twin suns, blazed with intensity as they glared at Scott. But this time, the figure wasn’t alone. Over a dozen shadowy figures stood beside them, their forms obscured but their eyes fixed on Scott with unsettling focus.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

"Even a nobody like this attracts the attention of the throne?" a caustic voice echoed, its venomous tone causing a web of cracks to spread across the surrounding walls. An overwhelming pressure descended upon Scott, strong enough to negate the nihilistic void that usually defined his being.

For a moment, time itself seemed to freeze. A gigantic crack splintered across the dome’s ceiling, revealing a pair of monstrous eyes, vast and ancient, as if they carried the weight of millions of worlds.

The administrator demands that ??? return! Refusal is not an option!

The spear-wielding figure and the other shadowy beings lifted their heads toward the administrator. One by one, they vanished into the darkness without uttering a word. Scott tried to lift his own head, but found that he couldn’t. For reasons unknown, several tendrils had wrapped around him, restricting his every movement.

Then, as abruptly as they had appeared, the tendrils released their hold, and time resumed its normal flow. Scott couldn’t recall the last time his heart had pounded so violently, the sensation both terrifying and exhilarating. Despite his lingering trepidation, a maniacal smile spread across the voidweaver’s face. He had never felt more alive.

You have slain the first invader! The next invader will arrive soon! Defend your path!

Scott ignored the notification, his attention drawn to a spot just a few feet away—the very place where the ill-fated elves had met their demise. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but three luminous, pearl-like seeds had emerged from the icy floor, now floating in midair. They spun fiercely, absorbing any lingering energy in the area. Then, with a sharp crack, a burst of flashing lights filled the room, accompanied by wretched screams and horrid gasps. As the lights dimmed, the room fell silent.

On the very spot where the elves had died, their naked bodies now lay on the ground, covered in shimmering lilac fluids under the dome’s lights. The elves stared in disbelief at their surroundings, their gazes taking in the devastation left behind from what they assumed had been an intense battle. The victor was undeniable—Scott was the only one left standing.

The elves turned their attention back to Scott, shock and fear evident in their eyes. It’s been less than five minutes since our death. He eliminated a domain user within that time. Is that even possible? The hunter thought; her earlier bravado now a distant memory. The being before her filled her with unspeakable dread.

“Why do you look so scared? It’s not like I’m going to eat you,” Scott chuckled, casually rearranging his disheveled hair.

The elves remained silent, hastily retrieving new robes from their inventories to cover themselves. Scott watched them impassively, waiting until they were dressed before speaking again. “That seed. What is it?”

“A s-seed from the Tree of Life,” the illusionist blurted out, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. She hadn’t meant to answer, but something compelled her to respond to Scott’s question.

Scott’s brows shot up. Tree of Life? Such a thing exists. He took a step forward, the new pendant on his wrist glinting in the dim light. “I won’t waste your time with too many questions. Can anyone be revived if they have that seed? If so, where can I get one? And what happens if I take one of yours? Finally, can the seeds be destroyed? If so, how?” Scott asked, his voice calm as he approached the elves.

They flinched but were too afraid to move. “Well?” Scott prompted, halting just a few feet away from them.

“The seed is called the Whispers of Life, and it can only be obtained from the Tree of Life,” the hunter began, her voice trembling slightly. “Anyone who possesses the seed can be revived an infinite number of times, as long as the Tree of Life still lives. But the location of the Tree has been lost to the elven kingdom ever since the Tower of Champion appeared.” She paused, retrieving a luminous pearl from her inventory and tossing it gently toward Scott. He let it fall to the ground, his gaze still fixed on the trio.

“That’s a beacon,” the hunter continued. “Although no one knows the tree’s exact location, the beacon will help you detect its presence when you’re near the realm that houses it.”

Scott glanced at the beacon, nodding thoughtfully. Then he looked back at the elves. “You haven’t answered all my questions. What happens if I take one of your seeds? And can the seeds be destroyed?”

The elves shuddered, swallowing nervously. “Whispers of Life can’t be inherited or destroyed. Many have tried, but it’s futile. As long as the Tree of Life breathes, we’ll continue to revive,” the materialist quickly explained.

“So, the only way to truly kill you is by destroying the Tree of Life, correct?” Scott asked.

“Yes,” the hunter confirmed.

“That’s basically pseudo-immortality,” Scott mused aloud. “Are there any restrictions on who can use the Whispers of Life?”

“Beings of undead origins, sentient constructs like clones, puppets, or hollows, and intrinsically nefarious entities are barred,” the illusionist responded without hesitation.

Scott nodded wordlessly, feeling a twinge of sympathy for Slim. “So, how does one earn or receive the Whispers of Life? Is it restricted only to the living, or can the dead be revived as well?” he asked, his gaze shifting to the beacon.

“As long as they’re not among the forbidden entities, it doesn’t matter if they’re living or dead. One simply needs to stain their blood on the beacon and present it to Mo—uh, I mean, the Tree of Life. If deemed worthy, they’ll be granted a Whisper of Life. However, in cases where someone hopes to revive the dead, they’ll be judged harshly, based on the merits of their deeds while alive,” the illusionist explained.

Did she almost call the Tree of Life her mother? Scott wondered in silence as he processed the elves’ words. Without a word, he reached for the beacon, and the luminous item vanished into his inventory.

“Thank you for your time. I won’t trouble you any further,” Scott said with a smile. But his smile only sent shivers down the spines of the elves. Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked back to his original position. The elves exchanged uneasy glances but remained rooted to the spot.

Meanwhile, Scott’s gaze was fixed on the pathway the warrior had exited. He wondered if the next invader would come from the same direction.

“System, do I have to wait for the invader to arrive? Can I intercept them?” Scott asked mentally.

Seeking approval… Your request has been approved! You may intercept the invader if you choose to!

Scott wore a thin smile as he read through the notification. “System, where is the invader?”

Requesting permission… Permission granted! The invader approaches from the path directly in front of you!

Scott nodded slowly, casting a glance toward the elves, who had regained some of their composure. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure. Goodbye and good luck.” With that, he sauntered forward, indifferent to their thoughts or reactions.

The elves watched as Scott disappeared down the path, their gazes narrowing as his form faded from view.

“We’re in serious trouble,” the materialist murmured, her anxiety barely contained. “The elders are going to kill us for giving such a being a beacon.”

“We had no choice,” the hunter replied, placing a calming hand on the anxious elf’s shoulder. “Who knows what he might have done if we hadn’t answered his questions.”

“They won’t listen to that,” the materialist said, shaking her head. “We… we’ll be banished to—”

“My children, fret not, for you have done what was required of you,” the illusionist interjected, her voice powerful and dignified. White light enveloped her eyes, and her golden locks flailed wildly as her form levitated off the ground.

The hunter and materialist shuddered and immediately dropped to their knees; heads bowed. “High Priestess, we—”

“Now isn’t the time for that. You have completed your mission; you may return to the settlement,” the high priestess declared.

The hunter hesitated for a moment before asking, “High Priestess, is it truly safe for such a being to wield a beacon?”

“Mother permitted it. She awaits his eventual arrival. That’s all you need to know,” the high priestess responded. “This child will become unconscious for a while. Please take care of her.”

At that moment, the illusionist’s body convulsed, and she collapsed. The hunter and materialist rushed to catch her before she hit the ground. They exchanged worried glances, their eyes drifting toward the pathway Scott had taken.