The Tower's Price: A LitRPG Adventure (Tower of Power Book 5)

by Ivan Kal

  No, Morgan had always believed that the universe was cruel. Perhaps it was why he wasn’t as angry with Oxy for the things he had done, for creating a world filled with misery. Perhaps everything, everywhere was the same. The law of reality itself.

  But then he saw Vestella’s sleeping face, looking as if she had no care in the world, and he thought that perhaps there should be something better—a world where people could be safe and free to do as they willed. But he knew that it wasn’t going to happen, not here, at least not until Oxylus got what he needed. His talks with his father had been brief, but Morgan remembered the intensity, the confidence that he projected, the unflinching belief that what he was doing was right. Morgan didn’t know if that was the case; he had only a small sample to judge him by: the World that he had created, Clara’s stories that had been passed down by her people, the meetings with the Guiding Force, and the being that saved him during the trial, Moirai.

  He was still unsure what it had been, but from its words, from the small contact with its mind, he was certain that whatever that being was, it was also extremely important to Oxylus. It still made Morgan shake just to think on the power that he had felt. That had been a being that had felt equal to his father. It had called itself his other half, and it had known Morgan and his connection to Oxylus. It had contradicted Oxylus, too, had told him that seeking help wasn’t inferiority, that he did not need to follow the path that Oxylus himself had, of being powerful all on his own. That had stuck with Morgan, even among all the questions he had about the being. He had felt like his path had been to stand beside others, for all of them to be strong together.

  It was why losing his friends had hurt him so. It felt like what he wanted to achieve was wrong, like he shouldn’t even try. And yet, the conviction in the voice that had spoken inside Morgan’s head filled him with confidence. Moirai, Fate and Destiny, was one of the three images most often encountered in the World that Oxylus had created—one of the three icons that were venerated. Oxylus himself was the Great Lord, the creator of the World and one who granted them ascension. Then there was the Guiding Force, the fire-haired woman who guided the World, who ensured that the rules were followed and punished those who broke them, who guided their growth as ascended.

  And, lastly, there was the one that was the least known about.

  Morgan remembered the first time he had seen the carving of it. To him it had looked like a spaceship, but others knew it as the symbol for Fate and Destiny. To them, it was something abstract, a concept that spoke about their lot in life, that the Great Lord guided them all toward a great destiny. But Morgan knew that it was something real, a being of immense power, and yet somehow alien. It did not feel like a living thing as he was familiar with. It was…more than that, even more so than the Guiding Force, who Morgan believed to be the one running all the background systems that operated the World, for he knew that at the core of everything in this world there was high technology.

  Morgan had wondered why everything was kept so simple, so focused on brutal fighting and what looked like magic, and still he had no answer. Perhaps the Great Lord just didn’t want anyone to figure out the secrets behind his power.

  In the end, Morgan himself could do little about the World. But looking at Ves’s sleeping form, at the peaceful expression on her face, it made him want to do something. But he knew, that the only way he could change things was to gain as much power as Oxylus had, or enough so that his father would listen.

  And only reaching the top of the Tower would allow him to do that.

  “What are you thinking about so furiously?” Ves asked sleepily.

  Morgan looked down and saw her eyes open and looking at him. He hadn’t noticed that she’d woken up. “Uh… Stuff?” Morgan said weakly, trying to smile even though he didn’t feel like it.

  “Oh, I didn’t think you had anything really important up in there. But I guess that stuff is pretty important. Totally warrants your thinking face.” She nodded seriously.

  Morgan narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you using my snark on me?”

  “What? Me? Never. Like, totes would never do that. Whatever totes means.”

  Morgan chuckled at that, and she gave him a weak smile. But then the reality set in, and their smiles slipped. She sighed against him.

  “Do we have to go out there?” Ves asked.

  “We probably should, otherwise your brother will just get himself in trouble and we'll need to go on a long and elaborate quest trying to save his chaste soul from the clutches of a promiscuous dragon lady.”

  Ves turned her head up, and looked at him in the eyes. “Promiscuous dragon lady?”

  “What? Oh, yes,” Morgan nodded his head seriously. “It’s the horns, you know. They grew enough that the dragon lady might confuse him for one of her own kind.”

  Ves blinked and then shook her head. “I’m not even going to try to understand that.”

  Just as well. They got up and put their gear on. They’d both slept with most of their gear on, but they had put a few of the more cumbersome items close at hand. No one probably wanted to sleep far from their weapons; Morgan just had an advantage in that his hand was his weapon.

  Once they were ready, they walked out of their tent. The sky was still dark and filled with stars; the two moons had changed positions in the sky, but still shone brightly.

  The two fires still burned, and Morgan saw Vall and Lucius sitting next to Hexna near one of the fires. The other people were seemingly still asleep, but Morgan then saw Ragnor Raam sitting on one of the rock mounds, keeping watch. They made their way to the fire and sat down. Without asking, Vall added two more skewers with meat to the fire.

  They sat in the silence for a while, before Morgan felt compelled to speak and fill it.

  “Well, this is about the time when Grav would ask for something strong to drink. After waking and before breakfast,” Morgan said.

  He saw their mouths quirk up, and decided to continue.

  “There was this one time, when he managed to convince me to join him in his morning ritual. I can’t really remember what happened after, but Ves tells me that it was quite an experience.” Morgan nudged her.

  Ves got it and continued. “The two of you tried to rob a pig farmer, so yes, if you want to call it an experience, sure.”

  Morgan chuckled. “She didn’t let me get into bed for three days after that.”

  Ves turned at him with mock anger. “Of course I didn’t. I could still smell it on you!”

  The others all chuckled, even Hexna, who looked like a classic warlock stereotype, with her black hair, assortment of rings on her fingers and black-and-purple robe. “Jelara managed to get me to smoke one of her herbs once,” she said with a faint smile on her face. “I had a fight with a mirror. I nearly threw a fire bolt at it before Jelara convinced me that the woman staring at me wasn’t a threat.”

  Morgan and everyone else laughed softly at her telling of the memory. Then, slowly, others woke and joined, and they started telling stories about those who had fallen, remembering the good times.

  As Nesseya started telling a pretty raunchy story about Richard the Bone Splitter, Morgan slipped away and walked across the small rocky plateau. He approached Ragnor and took a seat next to him.

  Over their climb, Ragnor had always stood somewhat apart from the rest. Being their leader made him somewhat isolated. But Morgan had seen the look in his eyes before—the gut-wrenching guilt and despair.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes before Morgan spoke.

  “What happened wasn’t your fault,” he said simply.

  Ragnor didn’t respond immediately, but then he turned his dark eyes to look at Morgan. “I led us here. I gathered this raid thinking that I would be the first to achieve something that no one else in history had: to climb to the top of the Tower of Power, to accomplish the Great Lord’s test. I was an arrogant fool to think that I would be better than countless others throughout history who had all disappeared throug
h the portal to the fourth floor. How many people have there been who thought exactly the same as I had? How many idiots have led others into that meat grinder—and for what? Some kind of test for something that we don’t even understand the reason for?”

  Morgan recognized the look in Ragnor’s eyes, the self-loathing. How much time had Morgan spent hating himself for what he had done? How much time had he spent wearing a mask to hide behind, telling quick jokes and annoying everyone just to get them away from him? All because he had taken a life by protecting his mother, and then spent the rest of his life looking at the hateful look in her eyes when she looked at him. Heard her prayers, whispered in the night, asking God to forgive Morgan’s soul and allow him into heaven.

  He believed that he was unworthy and guilty. Life in this world had dissuaded him of that belief. He had been shown behind the curtain, seen that there were gods and beings with incredible power out there. He no longer regretted what he had done.

  But he saw regret in Ragnor’s entire being.

  “Everyone here is because we chose to be here. Because we, like you, believed in achieving something more, something greater. The Tower of Power is the symbol of the Great Lord’s power, a test for those who are worthy. I do not know if I agree with what happened on the last floor. In truth…I can’t. I don’t know why the Great Lord felt that such a test was necessary. But what we want to achieve is still possible, as long as one of us draws breath, as long as we continue to climb. There is a chance that we can reach the top, and find out the truth.”

  Ragnor kept Morgan’s gaze for a few seconds, but then he looked away—and Morgan wasn’t about to let him go so easily.

  “You noticed it on the outside, the way that people are. The way that they just survive, reach a level of power where they can live for a long time, where they can exploit others so that they live forever without improving themselves, without seeking to achieve what the Great Lord intended with the World. I know that I am young, but if I have seen it, then I know that you have. The World is stagnating. Nothing changes. Those who have power stay in it; those who are born after level until they can live comfortably. There is no one who wants to push forward, to level more, to try and reach the highest of heights. No one but you and everyone else here.”

  Ragnor turned his face back, looking at Morgan with narrowed eyes.

  “No one here blames you. All of us feel guilty for not doing more, for being the ones to survive. But we need you,” Morgan told him. “We are stuck on this path now, and we cannot go back. We can only climb and try to reach the top—and for that we need our leader. So, if for no other reason but because you feel guilty, you need to get of your ass and start doing shit.”

  Ragnor blinked at Morgan’s words, not really comprehending them. Morgan stood and walked away before his last sentence truly set in. He might be trying to motivate the man, but he did not want to stay near a man like Ragnor Raam in case he felt insulted.

  He came back to the fires and sat next to Ves. She raised an eyebrow at him and he just smiled in return.

  And then, a few stories about drunken giants later, Ragnor Raam walked to the fire and everyone quieted down.

  The Shara Daim looked around, his eyes pausing and narrowing on Morgan for a moment, but then, finally, he spoke.

  “We’ve lost people: teammates, friends…our family. But as I’ve been reminded, all of us came here because we wanted to reach the top of the Tower. Remembering them is honoring them, but so is finishing what we’ve started. To reach the end, and find out the reasons why, to know what their sacrifice bought us. To learn the truth.”

  Everyone around the fire was nodding their heads.

  “I think that our friends would understand if we turned toward our common goal,” Ragnor said with a sad smile. “I assume that all of you have looked through your notifications?”

  Again, everyone nodded. “It was the first time in a while that I had leveled, and I assume that this is true for most of you. But we now have a new task. This floor appears to be a test in parts. We need to find a city beneath the sand and reach its heart. I don’t think that we should delay. We’ve lost a lot of our supplies, and we will probably not be able to resupply anytime soon.” Ragnor paused. “Morgan,” he said suddenly, turning to look at him.

  Morgan straightened. “Yes?”

  “I need you on reconnaissance. You are the only one of us left who has any kind of sensory skill. Make a team and go exploring the desert as soon as possible. Hopefully you will be able to find something that will shed light on this underground city.”

  Morgan nodded his head. He had his Nature Seismic Sense, which allowed him to sense things around plant roots. He knew that plants could grow in deserts, contrary to what most people believed. The entire world might be a desert, but as there seemed to be air, he figured that there had to be plants as well. He also had Life Sense, which would let him detect any life forms around him, even if they were underground.

  Ragnor started giving more orders, and everyone started moving. Morgan glanced at Ves with a raised eyebrow, and she inclined her head, accepting his non-verbal request. Morgan then went to find a few more members for his scouting team.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Morgan’s team ended up being made out of four people, including him. Others were needed to catalog what they had left of their supplies and make new battle plans. With less people, they would need to adjust everything about the raid group. Aside from Ves, he had asked Ta’elara because of her long-range capabilities as well as aerial support. The fourth person ended up being Clara—who, as one of their two remaining supports, was probably one of their most important members.

  But Morgan knew that his mission was important enough to take her as well. So, they’d spent two days walking around in concentric circles around their camp, looking for any signs of the ruined city.

  “Why is it so hot?” Clara complained.

  “We are in a desert, you know,” Morgan shot back immediately.

  “Who in their right mind would ever invent such a thing?” she asked.

  The night had passed, and a cruel red sun was scorching everything at the moment. Ves had used some of the water in her storage to make small ice cubes for them periodically, but they were melting too fast to really help. Morgan was also pretty sure that if their stats had been any lower they would’ve felt the effects of the heat that much more.

  “No one invented deserts. They’re just, like…a thing, you know?” Morgan told her.

  “What? They are not. Stop messing with me, Morgan!” Clara yelled at him.

  “I’m being serious!”

  “Really? A massive ocean of sand, with no life in sight, where the sun scorches everything it touches and the air dances? That sounds like a real thing to you?” Clara asked as she turned to face him.

  “It doesn’t matter what it sounds like, it is a real thing. I assure you.”

  Clara narrowed her eyes on him. “Really? And how did they come into being?”

  Morgan blinked. “Well I don’t know that, something about temperature variation.”

  “Ha!” She pointed her finger at him. “You don’t know because they are not a real thing! Someone invented them and made them!”

  “Clara, buddy. Who do you think goes around creating things like a desert?” Morgan asked her.

  “Obviously a god. For someone who had met and spoken with more than one of them, you are awfully ignorant about the extent of their power.”

  Clara nodded as if her words ended their crazy discussion.

  Morgan opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it, realizing that nothing he could say would convince her. Finally he turned to look for help. “Ves! You tell her!” Morgan called ahead.

  Vestella turned to look at them, her eyes narrowed darkly at them from underneath the improvised turban on her head, and she spoke. “I’m not getting in the middle of you two idiots.”

  “What? Ves, honey, c’mon! She doesn’t think that deserts are rea
l!” Morgan whined.

  “Ha!” Clara pointed a finger at him. “There, she knows that they aren’t real too!”

  Before Morgan could respond, Ta’elara swooped down from the air above them and landed nearby. “There is some nature up ahead.”

  Morgan immediately sobered and focused on his Nature Seismic Sense, and then after a few moments felt something at the edge of his sensory range. “I can feel something moving… Water, I think?”

  “Any monsters?” Clara asked, her hands tightening around her staff.

  “None that I can tell, but we should be on guard anyway,” Morgan said.

  They made their way toward the source slowly, and as they came over a dune they saw it in the distance. It was an oasis, and a pretty sizable one from what he could see. There were trees and grass as well as a large pond. They approached it cautiously, watching out for any kind of monsters that might be lurking around. Morgan sensed for any movement with his Nature Seismic Sense, using the roots of the plants to try and detect any vibration, although he couldn’t sense as well through sand that surrounded the oasis. He also used his Life Sense to look for any signs of life—by now he was fairly proficient at distinguishing flora from fauna.

  “I don’t see anything hostile,” Morgan said, but still kept his bow form active and an arrow nocked.