Tower Climber 3 (A LitRPG Adventure)

by Jakob Tanner

  Harold kept his arms crossed and sighed.

  “Yes and no,” he answered. “There are many tower gods. Many climbers are preoccupied with ascending to that level of power. The reason the higher floors don’t attack the alliance isn’t because the United Floors is so much stronger in allied numbers, but because there are powerful tower gods who will deliver wrath to those who mess with the lower floors. Sabriel is one such tower god.”

  “Wow,” said Sarah, amazed.

  “Wait, I have loads of questions,” Max said. “How the heck do these tower gods work again? What’s the difference between an S-rank climber and a tower god?”

  “Tower gods are climbers who have reached the echelons of S-rank and ascended even higher. They have whole new categories of ranks at their level of power. Some of them are thousands of years old. To us, an S-ranker is an all-powerful being. To tower gods, they are the weakest of the almighty.”

  Sabriel’s flying horse glided to the center of the arena, folding in its wings upon landing.

  The knightly woman raised her sword.

  The crowd stayed silent. The tension in the air was palpable.

  “What’s happening?” whispered Max.

  His heart was still thumping hard against his chest. The rising tension was driving him crazy. He wanted the tournament to begin already.

  “Once Sabriel swings her sword,” said Harold. “The first round will begin.”

  “But what game are we facing off in?” asked Max.

  “We don’t know yet,” said Harold. “This entire arena will morph into a mana simulation and we’ll get our instructions then.”

  “Oh, like the challenges we took down in Zestiris,” said Sarah.

  Harold winced.

  “Let me assure you,” said Harold. “This will be significantly more intense and cutthroat. Be on your guard.”

  Max gulped and kept his eyes locked on Sabriel’s sword.

  As soon as the tower god swung her sword, the first round would begin.

  Gregoire’s eyes were not focused on Sabriel’s sword lifted high in the air, but rather on the red-haired climber boy.

  The kid had made a fool of him and his accomplice the day before.

  This first round would be redemption for their failure.

  They’d make sure to crush the human team and crush them hard.

  U’lopp of the frog-folk stood proudly with the other members of his team.

  They stayed focused on the tower god’s sword still raised, ready for the woman to swing it downward and begin the games.

  There were very few frog-folk in the surrounding arena.

  None of the spectators or contestants thought much of them. They may have thought even less of them than humans.

  They would make sure to prove them all wrong.

  Oliver, the B-ranker on the Elestrian team, stood with his comrades, watching the tower god hold her sword high in the air.

  Everyone in the stands knew about how their floor had to be saved by two D-rank human climbers.

  It was a disgrace.

  This tournament would be their redemption, starting with this first round.

  The Boldrin team stood stoic, watching the tower god. As did the Flaron team of half-giants who stood near them.

  Neither team came to this game with the intention to lose.

  They were here to win and they were steadfast in that ambition.

  Tiberius, the A-ranker of the Caesarian team, watched the tower god’s sword.

  He didn’t care about beating the Elestrians, or the Boldrins, or the humans.

  His victory laid in proving his own people wrong.

  The Caesarians prided themselves on diplomacy and technological advancement and thought less of the warriors who fought for them.

  He’d show his own people how wrong they were.

  Starting today.

  The old woman, known simply as Mother, led the mercenary team as the group’s A-ranker.

  She paid very little attention to the tower god’s raised sword.

  Instead, she sinisterly looked at all the other teams.

  My, my, my, she thought to herself. Aren’t we in for a treat? So many innocents to squash and kill.

  She waited eagerly for the game to start.

  Max’s heart thumped harder and harder as he stared at the tower god’s sword.

  He clenched his fists.

  This tournament would be the culmination of everything he’d worked on so far as a climber to accomplish.

  If they won, it was possible that the news of their victory would reach his sister’s ears.

  Max smiled at the thought of his sister.

  Elle.

  He clenched his fists even tighter.

  I’m ready, he thought.

  SWOOSH!

  Sabriel, the tower god, swung her sword down with a magnificent arc. Her powerful voice echoed across the entire arena, felt within the chest of every individual there—be it contestant or spectator.

  The words reverberated with power and excitement.

  “LET THE GAMES BEGIN!”

  31

  A purple puddle shot out from the center of the arena, across the arena’s gravel surface until it hit the very edge of the contestant’s fighting area.

  The purple puddle then began to lift up off the ground, like a rising tide, enveloping Max’s feet and then his knees.

  “Uhh guys,” said Max. “What’s happening?”

  “It’s the mana simulation,” explained Harold. “It will be complete in a sec.”

  Max took a breath and tried not to squirm and get uncomfortable, but it was hard when it felt like you were drowning in a puddle of mana.

  The rising tide of purple mana eventually rose to his neck and, squirming as he did, Max knew there was no escaping it.

  He held his breath and closed his eyes.

  When he opened them again, the arena had disappeared. The roaring spectators were all gone. Sabriel the tower god had disappeared. Regulus and Hermia were nowhere in sight.

  Instead, he stood in the shadows of an ancient forest with thick massive trees.

  He looked and saw the faces of the rest of his teammates. Most of them had gone pale and looked to be freaking out.

  All except Harold, who kept his arms crossed.

  Nothing fazed the old man, did it? Max wondered.

  “Agh, where are we?” cried Casey.

  Sarah shivered while Blake lit himself a cigarette to pretend he wasn’t nervous, but his shaking arm that held his lighter revealed the truth of his emotions.

  “Everyone relax,” said Harold. “Remember, this is only a simulation. We can’t be harmed in here. Let’s await our instructions. We still don’t know what the game is.”

  A few seconds later, instructions flashed across Max’s retina.

  The gasps from his teammates told him that they received the same message.

  Max read over the game’s instructions.

  Challenge: Team Capture The Flag

  Capture another team’s flag while holding onto your own. At the end of one hour, all the teams who manage to have two flags win and move on to the next round of the tournament. All other teams are eliminated.

  59 minutes remaining.

  “Capture the flag?” said Casey. “We don’t even have a flag.”

  Just as Casey spoke, a blue flag attached to a pole, flickered into existence.

  “Well, that answers one question,” said Blake.

  Max looked around the forest with suspicion.

  Their opponents could appear from the shadows at any moment.

  He considered the challenge’s instructions. It was an incredibly ruthless first round. It was set up to eliminate half of the team’s in the tournament.

  Which meant, no one was going to be taking the game casually. Every team was going to be bringing their A-game to this challenge.

  They needed to come up with a strategy pronto.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Sar
ah.

  Both Casey and Blake took a step towards the flag on the ground and then hesitated when they saw the other person going for it.

  “That right there is our problem,” Max said. “The fundamental way people lose capture the flag is that they don’t have good team coordination. Sports like basketball and baseball all have assigned roles. Capture the flag doesn’t assign anyone any specific roles—which will lead to a team’s downfall unless they organize themselves straight away.”

  Harold smirked and crossed his arms. “I agree. Since you’re clearly a budding strategist, what do you think is our best squad formation then?”

  Max had to ponder that question for a quick second. He knew confidently that they needed to have organized roles, but who should do what was another question entirely.

  Every formation that went through Max’s head started and began with who would hold the flag. That would determine every other role on the team.

  Max walked over to the flag and picked it up.

  “Of course,” said Blake, lighting a cigarette. “He gives himself the most important role. Real vote of confidence there, huh, Max?”

  Max ignored the flamebringer and walked over to Sarah and handed her the flag.

  “Surely, you can’t be serious,” said Casey. “I would’ve thought Harold—as the strongest of us should hold the flag.”

  Sarah blinked and looked up to Max. Her eyes said that she was thinking along similar lines to Casey.

  “Are you sure about this?” his childhood friend asked him.

  Max nodded determinedly.

  He then turned to Casey and the rest of the group.

  “My first thought was to give it to Harold too,” said Max. “But that means any team that keeps their A-ranker free can overpower us. Plus, with Sarah’s regenerative healing trait, she could potentially last longer than any of us from a grueling assault.”

  Everyone nodded and was persuaded by Max’s thinking.

  “I presume someone will be defending Sarah,” said Harold.

  “Well, we’ll move as a squad,” said Max. “But the defensive roles will be Blake and Casey. Both of you have ranged area of effect abilities meaning you can handle multiple opponents at once.”

  “And that leaves you and me for offense,” said Harold.

  “Exactly.”

  Harold made a face, mulling over Max’s strategy.

  “These are all good tactics, kid, well done,” he said.

  Max smiled. He was happy to hear the A-ranker approved of his strategy. It made Max imagine the possibility of one day being in Harold’s shoes, having to lead a team of rookies on a mission in a faraway land, the responsibility entirely weighing on his shoulders.

  The idea made him smile and he realized it was because Harold’s words had been a deep sign of respect.

  “The only question now is,” Max continued, “which team should we go after?”

  “Easy,” said Harold. “We go after the weakest team. The frog-folk.”

  A pang of sadness filled Max’s stomach.

  U’lopp’s face came to mind. The good memories they shared together. Celebrating in the swamp village after the defeat of the bone basilisk.

  “I don’t like that idea,” said Max.

  “Me neither,” said Casey. “The frog-folk are our friends.”

  “Have you forgotten we’re in a competitive tournament? We can’t afford to be merciful,” said Harold. “If we’re merciful, we lose. We have to be ruthless.”

  The team came to a standstill, silence overtaking them.

  Max watched the shadows of the forest beyond.

  Every moment they spent arguing and deliberating, the less time they had to go capture another team’s flag and the more likely another team would strike them first.

  Max didn’t know what to do.

  Harold had a good point. This was a competitive game, but to consciously go after a team they were friendly with seemed like a jerk move.

  But the game was literally pushing them to do whatever they had to win.

  This all came back to Max’s feeling that the tournament’s set up worked against the United Floors Alliance’s goals of deeper enriched alliances and diplomacy between the lower floors.

  Then, Max had a new idea.

  “Harold, you’re right,” said Max. “The frog-folk are most likely the weakest team in the tournament, which means other teams are going to be thinking along similar lines. That means we know the frog-folk are going to be attacked first. We should find them and take out the weaker team after they go head to head.”

  Casey smiled. “Good thinking, Max. Unlike the pervy—and now we also know, merciless—geezer over here.”

  Harold grinned.

  “And what happens if that weaker party is the frog-folk?”

  Max gulped.

  He hoped it wouldn’t be.

  He really didn’t want to screw over the frog-folk.

  “Let’s just see what happens,” said Max.

  He glanced at every member of his team.

  “Are we all ready?” said Max. “Let’s go!”

  The old woman known as Mother, the mercenary team’s A-ranker, stood in the shadows of the forest with her team of bloodthirsty killers.

  In the distance, the old woman spotted the team of frog-folk moving cautiously through the forest.

  “Can we play with those little froggies, mommy?” said The Toddler.

  The Toddler was a middle-aged man dressed in a one-piece pajama suit. His eyes were droopy and his skin was saggy. He could be the father of any of the other team members beside herself.

  The child-like psychopath was one of the most bloodthirsty killers in the entire tower.

  You could say something similar about the rest of the team, Mother mused to herself.

  “Who will kill the frog-folk first?” said the team’s B-ranker, who’s face remained hidden beneath a hood.

  “Me! Me! Me!” said The Toddler. He then put his finger on his chin, confused. “But wait—we can’t we’re in a simulation?”

  The hooded figure snickered as did Mother.

  “Darling,” said Mother. “There are many ways to harm someone within this simulation. Just you wait.”

  The Toddler clapped his hands with glee, before the team continued forth, stalking the frog-folk.

  32

  Max and his team rushed through the forest.

  They kept their squad formation: Harold leading in front, Casey and Blake on the sides, Sarah in the middle, and Max in the back.

  No one spoke as they moved forward.

  Now that they had a strategy in place, speaking would only put them in danger or disrupt their plan.

  As he had the most perceptive mana sense, Harold led the way to where he believed the frog-folk were.

  After a few minutes, Harold stopped and they all ducked for cover.

  “Do you sense them?” Casey whispered.

  Ten minutes had already passed in the challenge, meaning it was quite possible fighting amongst the team’s would start breaking out right about now, if they hadn’t already.

  Harold’s eyes twitched.

  “I think a battle has already been fought and won,” whispered Harold. “There was a huge amount of mana here a minute ago and now there is only a faint flicker.”

  “UGGHHHH...”

  The team looked to each other.

  What is that?

  Max instantly felt himself concerned for the frog-folk and lifted his head out of the bushes where they were hiding.

  His heart panged at what he saw.

  U’lopp was on the ground, leaking blood, as were his four other teammates.

  “U’lopp!” cried Max and hurried over to them.

  “Stay down you fool!” said Harold.

  But Max didn’t listen. U’lopp was his friend. They had both helped each other in times of need before. He wasn’t going to ignore him now.

  He ran over to U’lopp.

  “U’lopp,” said
Max. “Are you okay?”

  The frog-man groaned and turned to him.

  “The...mercenaries...” said U’lopp. “They’re...too...powerful...”

  “Don’t worry,” cried Max. “It’s a simulation. When the game is over the pain is gone.”

  U’lopp shook his head.

  “They circumvented it somehow,” said U’lopp. “My comrade...” He glanced to a frog-man who looked in even worse condition. “Tadpo...”

  Max seethed with anger for the frog-folk.

  He took in the fact that there was no flag in sight. The mercenary team must have taken it of course.

  “C’mon, U’lopp,” said Max. “You guys can recover and then keep going. It’s not over until it’s over.”

  The frog-man struggled to breathe.

  “The injuries they’ve left us with,” said U’lopp. “I don’t think we can go on.”

  Harold emerged from the bushes and strode towards Max. He winced at the sight of the severely injured frog-folk.

  Max wondered if this brought up painful memories for the A-ranker.

  I thought he said the mana simulations offered more protection now!?

  Harold didn’t speak of any of this, staying focused on the task at hand.

  “Their flag is gone,” said Harold. “And so is the team that took it. We can’t stay here any longer without jeopardizing our own flag.”

  Max looked down to the injured frog-folk, wishing he could do more to help them.

  Harold grabbed Max’s wrist.

  “C’mon,” said the man.

  Max knew ultimately Harold was right.

  They needed to keep moving. They needed to acquire another flag as well.

  Max materialized some healing items he had in his bag and gave them to U’lopp.

  “To tide you over until the game ends,” said Max.