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Tower of Champions [LitRPG]
Book 3 - Chapter 52: Unexpected Meeting

Book 3 - Chapter 52: Unexpected Meeting

"Steadfast!" A desolate voice boomed across the expansive road.

"Is our will and devotion!" the crowd of champions shouted in unison. Despite the myriad races that made up the throng, each wore a blood-red cloth covering where their eyes should be, their forelimbs pressed together in a pose of fervent prayer.

With zealous fervor, they charged from portals, racing toward Orion, who stood motionless. Unlike before, the mage’s new eyes had fully fused into his body, but his jaw had torn apart, exposing the mutilated remains within.

The maniacal devotees surged forward in droves, heading toward the mage and the flaming chain cocoon behind. Yet, before they could cover much distance, a barrage of whispers assaulted their minds, insidious and unwilling to go unheard.

"The devotion of the throne will not be swayed by heretical claims!" the leader of the group bellowed, frozen in place, unable to take another step.

"For the path of madness is clear and true—both embracing and terrifying. Only madness is eternal!" the devotees thundered in perfect unison, their blood-soaked eyes bleeding beneath the cloths, bodies trembling violently yet unmoving.

"Charge forth and—" the leader’s words abruptly ceased as his head exploded like an overripe fruit. His sentence lingered, unfinished, but his body stood firm, hands still clasped in fanatical devotion.

"For our minds shall be freed from mortal confines! Madness shall abide in the world, and we shall herald the dawn of the throne!" the crowd continued, their chant growing even more fervent. Some among them coughed up thick, murky blood, while others had their ears and eyes erupt into a grotesque mess. Yet, they remained standing, some smiling—unwavering in their devotion despite their bodies’ gruesome destruction.

The dissonant voices continued their silent assault, the whispers cradling the flickering embers of the devotees' fractured souls.

Suddenly, more portals tore open—much larger than those that had come before. A ghastly howl echoed from within, followed by a chilling wind that swept through the area, freezing everything in its path in an instant.

Orion remained unharmed. He cast a quick glance toward Scott. Thankfully, I didn’t have to step in.

The flames wrapped around the chains resisted the freezing wind, vaporizing it before it could reach the voidweaver. Orion turned his attention back to the portal. This is the tenth thousandth wave already... What could they send next?

The frozen devotees had turned into statues, their forms beginning to crack. The void's whispers lingered in the air, but no new figure emerged from the portal. Instead, a glowing magic circle formed beneath the shattered remains of the champions, breaking the thick ice that encased them. In an instant, the circle absorbed whatever essence remained, and Orion’s jaw began to painfully reform, muscle and sinew knitting together once more.

Then, his right arm twisted unnaturally, bones snapping and flesh tearing in grotesque echoes that filled the silent air. Despite the agony twisting his features, Orion’s eyes glowed with a strange delight. His gaze remained fixed on the portal, eager, curious—waiting to see what monstrosity would emerge next.

Seconds piled into minutes, yet nothing emerged from the portal. Orion remained vigilant, his curious gaze fixed on the shimmering gateway that refused to disappear. Despite the stillness, the temperature continued to plummet, a dense icy fog blanketing the area, obscuring everything from sight.

Occasionally, Orion glanced toward Scott. The flames encasing the voidweaver's chains effortlessly warded off the biting cold. Orion himself, apart from his still-twisted hand, seemed untouched by the frigid air. His concentration didn’t waver, his anticipation mounting. Whatever was being prepared, it had better live up to his expectations.

Amid the oppressive silence, a soft feminine whisper cut through: “Let all return to ice.” Instantly, everything within the icy fog froze solid, encased in a massive block of ice.

“Crumble,” the voice declared, this time with a sinister edge.

A thunderous explosion followed as the frozen landscape shattered into nothingness. A figure stepped out of the portal, clad in snow-white robes, her skin glistening as though it had been dusted with crushed diamonds. Like the devotees before her, a blood-red cloth covered her eyes as she scanned the desolate surroundings. Neither Scott nor Orion was visible, and the eerie whispers of the void had gone silent.

She took slow, deliberate steps away from the portal, each leaving a trail of ice on the ground behind her. She stopped where Orion had previously stood but found nothing. Her head turned toward where Scott's shrouded form had lingered—but there was nothing there either.

She surveyed the empty roads in silence, her head slowly swiveling from side to side before she turned back toward the portal. Wordlessly, she began to retrace her steps, leaving a wall of ice in her wake.

“Leaving so soon?” Orion's teasing voice rang out, though his form remained hidden.

Before he could say more, a frigid aura enveloped the area, encasing everything—except the portal—in ice once again. The figure turned, scanning the expanse of white, but there was no sign of Orion or Scott.

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“Crumble,” she repeated softly, and the ice shattered once more.

Her head turned, but there was still no sign of her adversaries. She knew they hadn’t succumbed to her ability, yet they remained elusive.

“What a dilemma,” Orion's voice echoed with sarcasm, though his form remained hidden. “Surely, you have more to offer? This is barely enough to—”

Before he could finish, an ear-splitting gong reverberated through the road, warping reality itself. Orion’s form materialized anew, standing in the exact spot where he had been since the battle began. He glanced toward Scott, his eyes shaking slightly in their sockets. He rejected the will of the Mad God? But why?

Orion’s frown deepened as he noticed the bluish flames around Scott’s chains were beginning to dissipate.

“A failure,” the figure in white stated, her voice flat. “My task here is done.”

Without further hesitation, she turned back toward the portal. Orion made no move to stop her, his mind occupied with the sudden change.

What happened during the inheritance? Why would Scott outrightly reject the Mad God's will? Did something unexpected interfere? Orion pondered as the portal disappeared into the void.

“As per our contract, return to me, voice of the void,” Orion intoned solemnly. The binds that had restrained him dissolved, and the ominous whispers vanished. His mangled arm, however, remained twisted, yet the mage appeared unconcerned. His curious gaze fixated on the chains encasing Scott, now devoid of their once-raging flames.

With quick steps, Orion approached, his brows furrowed in thought. But on his tenth step, another thunderous gong reverberated through the air, bending reality with its sound. Orion halted, confusion flashing in his eyes. Before he could process what was happening, blackened flames erupted from the chains, sending an unsettling wave of heat across the area.

What is this? Orion staggered backward. Few things baffled him, but this was one of them. Simultaneously, countless portals tore open, only to be shredded by invisible, colossal hands. Each portal’s destruction seemed to fuel the regeneration of Orion’s arm.

“Did he succeed or not?” Orion muttered in a daze, his voice echoing in the surreal silence. Just then, the flaming chains stirred, clanking softly as they began to loosen. Orion's gaze sharpened, unwilling to miss a single detail. The chains unraveled completely, revealing Scott, the voidweaver standing dazed, his eyes wandering aimlessly over the landscape.

Orion’s frown deepened as he caught Scott’s gaze. The yellow sign in Scott’s eye had changed, blackened tendrils now coiling to form a new, unique sigil. Meanwhile, the fractured worlds in the other eye remained engulfed in black flames, though now they seemed to move, shifting with a strange energy. Even the flames that had covered Scott’s body began to recede, retreating into his eyes.

Scott groaned, a flicker of clarity returning to his features. I’m back, right? He glanced around, recognizing the familiar terrain. “How long was I out?” Scott asked, his eyes landing on Orion’s half-regenerated arm. “What happened to your arm?”

“It’s just a minor side effect, nothing to be concerned about,” Orion replied with a smile, though his eyes never strayed from Scott, curiosity burning in his gaze.

Scott watched him warily as Orion stopped a few feet away, his sharp eyes scanning his form. “What happened while I was out?” Scott pressed, sensing the mage's tension.

“A lot, but nothing too alarming,” Orion said, stepping closer. “How did the inheritance go?”

Scott met the mage’s curious eyes and could detect a trace of anxiety—a rare sight for someone as composed as Orion. Strange. He usually hides his emotions better than this, Scott thought.

“I’d rather not go through anything like that again,” Scott admitted after a brief pause, his voice steady, “but I’ve gained the recognition of the throne.”

Orion's eyes widened in shock, his mouth parting in surprise. “Wait, then you received the baptism of Madness, too?”

Scott nodded in affirmation, and Orion grinned. A sudden, muffled snap echoed, and shimmering starlight flowed toward Orion’s arm, restoring it to its former state.

“Congratulations,” Orion said, stepping closer. “I trust you won’t mind sharing all the details of what you experienced?”

“We can talk about that later,” Scott said, his eyes scanning the vacant area. “First, tell me what happened while I was out. I can sense the presence of those who’ve been touched by madness lingering here.”

His gaze settled back on Orion. Though the mage appeared unchanged, Scott could sense a subtle, marked shift in him. Without hesitation, Orion recounted everything that transpired during Scott’s inheritance.

Scott's brow furrowed as he processed the mage’s account. The absence of remnants from the countless battles surprised him, and curiosity stirred. What did Orion do with the corpses of those who fell? he wondered.

How did they even get here? Scott’s thoughts churned. Did the administrator allow it, or did they sneak in somehow? He shook his head, dismissing that notion. They couldn’t afford to linger any longer, not with how much had likely changed since the bridge appeared.

“Let’s keep moving forward,” Scott suggested, meeting Orion’s gaze.

“Agreed. I could use a break,” Orion replied, stretching his arms with a soft hiss. “I haven’t pushed myself like this in a long time. But now, let’s get back to your experience with the inheritance.”

Knowing he couldn’t avoid the topic; Scott reluctantly began recounting what he had gone through. As they walked, he watched Orion’s expressions shift, though he couldn't discern the mage’s thoughts. The monotonous path ahead remained unchanged, devoid of any new branches or wandering champions like themselves.

“And that’s when I woke up here,” Scott concluded, his gaze fixed ahead.

Orion remained silent, deep in thought as his steps carried him forward. His brow furrowed, and his lips twisted slightly as if grappling with something beyond words.

“So, what do you think?” Scott asked, glancing at the chain and pendant that had reverted to their compressed forms.

Orion’s silence stretched for several moments before he sighed, shaking his head subtly. “I’m confused,” he admitted. “None of this adds up.”

Scott looked over at the mage, waiting for more, but held his tongue.

“The inheritance... it shouldn’t have unfolded like that,” Orion finally declared, his gaze sharp as it settled on Scott.

Scott’s brows shot up in surprise, and he halted his advance. “And you know this how?”

“I apologize for not mentioning it earlier. I wanted you to experience everything as naturally as possible. But…” Orion trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he and Scott simultaneously focused on the path ahead. Footsteps echoed in the distance, yet no one appeared.

Great, Scott thought. Someone else is coming. He smirked inwardly, itching to test the authority of madness he now wielded.

Seconds stretched into tense silence, and then, from the illusionary wall ahead, a figure stepped out. Scott and Orion exchanged incredulous glances.

“I wasn’t expecting to meet the people who ruined my life.”