Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 25 – Floor 2: Part 7

Mathew felt exhausted. Even though the sun was directly overhead, and he had level-upped that morning, he was tired. The benefits of Aether could drive away physical fatigue, but it couldn’t repair the weariness he felt in his spirit and soul.

The sacrifice for the House of the Destitute had been an old man, surrounded by family and friends who would receive a large stipend from his death. Mathew had watched a life compressed and condensed into energy that filled the crystal, causing it to shine with light.

And no matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it was for the greater good, there was no denying he was watching people die.

Returning to the Mayor’s House and ignoring the greetings of servants and everyone else inhabiting the building, Mathew collapsed onto the bed in the room given to him for his personal use. He hadn’t even noticed the expensive furnishings or the plate of fruit and pitcher of wine they had left for him.

Tired, he faded into sleep in seconds.

Awaking hours later with a start, Mathew groggily stood and opened a shade to discover the sun was about to set. Rather than feeling better, his nap had only made him more tired.

Worse, he was irritable and in a terrible mood. Deciding that it was best to push on, he left the Mayor’s house and travelled through the Upper District to the site of the next House.

The University, which had a sprawling campus on the far side of the Upper District, was a haven for philosophers and free thinkers. Teaching arts, science and medicine, House Comte was the patron of the university. They would ensure that every student could study without paying tuition by providing funding and backing.

In return, a single student would be selected each year as a sacrifice.

Mathew walked along the extensive paths that meandered through the campus. With flowers and trees, the air smelled like lilac, and massive lawns with closely cropped grass still held students despite the approaching evening.

Coming upon a group of students sitting on a bench along one of the paths, their conversation stopped as they recognized him as a Champion from his unusual clothing and the rumours flying throughout Bellmare of his arrival.

His irritation and lousy mood had only worsened on his walk, especially when he thought about what lay at the end of this trip. Another death and he was having more difficulty convincing himself that it had nothing to do with him.

“I’m here to collect the crystal.” Mathew said, assuming everyone would know what he was talking about. A young woman stood from the bench, running her hands across her skirt to smooth non-existent wrinkles.

Pretty, her hair was done in a long braid.

“Of course, Champion. You will want to speak with the Dean. She’s in that large building just over there.” She said, pointing at a prominent, three-story brick and stone building at the end of the path next to them.

Nodding his head in thanks, Mathew trekked down the path, ignoring the stares and the whispered conversations of the students he passed. Climbing the stairs to the front entrance two at a time, he moved swiftly through the open doors.

“Where’s the Dean?” Mathew asked the first student he saw. A stammering young man pointed down a hallway. Following the directions of another half dozen people, Mathew found himself in the Dean’s office on the third floor.

A beautifully furnished room with bookshelves and a heavy and well-designed desk with a wall of windows that overlooked one of the gardens, the Dean hadn’t been alone when Mathew arrived.

Three people awaited him.

The first was a tall, muscular man wearing armour with a golden bundle of grain engraved on the front. A sword was belted to his hip. He didn’t give Mathew the ‘buzz,’ so he estimated that he was either a level one or below. He had a mustache and a stern expression on his face. He was leaning against the wall when Mathew entered.

The second was a scholarly-looking older woman with long purple robes and a towering, elaborate hat that swept up and backwards in a curve.

The last was a Nobleman with silk robes and enough jewelry that left no doubt of the wealth he possessed. His hair was perfect, carefully styled without a piece out of place.

“Good Evening, Champion.” The scholarly woman greeted him.

“Good Evening, Dean?” Mathew asked, and she acknowledged him with a nod.

“I represent House Comte in these negotiations.” The dean replied.

“And these two?” Mathew asked, knowing that they weren’t random guests, nor were they here as lackeys or bodyguards.

“Marshal Pershing, House Pershing.” The warrior replied.

“Lord Bellmare, of House Bellmare.” The nobleman introduced himself with a white-toothed smile.

“Gentleman, looking to get all of this unpleasantness out of the way at the same time?” Mathew asked, not even wondering how the three remaining Houses knew where he was going in order to meet him. Everyone in Bellmare seemed to be tracking his movements.

“Keeping a united front.” The Marshal replied, and Mathew nodded.

“So you all want the same thing. Let’s just cut to the chase: I’m tired and hate it here. I want to get out of your hair as much as you probably want me gone. What is it you want for the three crystals?” Mathew asked.

The three shared a look for a moment before the Dean replied.

“We wish to have access to the land of the gods.” She stated.

“Sorry, what?” Mathew asked, stunned. He had expected they wanted a better share or to pawn off their responsibilities to someone else. This request came completely out of left field.

“We want the opportunity to travel as you do. We wish the opportunity to become Champions of the gods, to travel the heavens in their service.” The Nobleman explained, and it took Mathew a moment to process.

“You wish to enter the Tower of Avarice?” Mathew asked. This time, they were surprised.

“We know nothing about a ‘Tower.’” The dean revealed.

“That’s how I entered the ‘service of the gods,’ as you called it. A Tower appeared where I lived, offering whatever we wanted in exchange for entering and reaching the top. Each ‘floor’ is a task; this is my second one.” Mathew explained.

“And in serving the gods, you grow stronger?” The Marshal asked eagerly. Mathew nodded.

“If you survive, yeah. I’ll be honest with you: it hasn’t been a walk in the park. People died on the last floor; I expect more will die in the others. If you want this, you need to be prepared.” Mathew paused, thinking, before letting out a snort of a laugh.

“It’s pointless anyway. I don’t have any control over who can enter the tower. I’m just a messenger.” Mathew was about to continue when his wristband vibrated. Raising his arm, burning words appeared above it.

The gods offer their faithful a chance to enter the Tower of Avarice.

Cost: Double the amount of annual sacrifices required for half the results.

Accept?

Yes / No

Mathew stared at the words silently, wondering if he should even speak them when the Dean interrupted.

“We accept the cost.” She said, and Mathew’s head jerked up abruptly.

“You can see this?” Mathew asked, and the trio nodded.

“Of course, the words were meant for us.” The nobleman replied.

“You’re task here is complete, Champion. The crystals will be collected immediately, and the ritual will commence at the Harvest Moon. Until then, rest and enjoy your time in Bellmare. You have done us a great service.” The Dean said, standing and bowing toward him.

The others followed suit, and Mathew could only sit silently.

Why did he feel like he had just done the gods’ dirty work?