I woke up at 5:58.
Two minutes before my alarm. My body just knew. It understood, on some deep level, that today could be the day, and it wasn't going to let two extra minutes of sleep stand between me and my destiny.
I sat up in bed. Victoria's coronation portrait looked down at me.
"Good morning, my queen," I whispered.
I could hear Barney's deep, rattling snores through the wall. He'd earned them. He'd also earned the right to not be woken up, which was why I moved through the room like I was performing a stealth mission, which—technically—I was very good at. Floor 23's guardian was a Jorogumo and I'd figured out her detection radius within two visits. With Barney, it was even easier. He couldn't hear anything below a shout once the snoring started.
I pulled my bag from under the bed and did a quick inventory check.
[Inventory]
Health Potion (Lesser) x4
Mana Potion (Greater) x1
Stamina Tonic x2
Rations (Dried Meat) x3
Rations (Moldy Cheese) x1
Whetstone x1
Empty Vials x6
Loot Sack (Small, Torn)
12 Silver, 4 Copper
Twelve silver. Four copper. That's everything I have in the world, excluding what I'm wearing and what's on the walls of my room.
I hadn't always been this broke. Six months ago, I had real gold: piles of it. I had spent two years grinding. I cleared dungeons, hunted bounties, sold rare drops, and accepted every contract that paid above market rate. I'd built my class around efficiency: high magical output, low resource consumption, fast clear times. Once I determined that I was prepared to confront the tower, I had accumulated 512,400 gold, equipped myself with a suite of top tier potions, enchanted gear, and two backup staffs. I had calculated the odds and I thought that they were in my favor.
Apparently not.
I walked into the 100th floor with everything I had. Full kit. Full supplies. Full plan. I'd cleared the first 99 floors in under 12 hours, which was, for the record, exceptional. I'd felt unstoppable. I remember standing in front of the hundredth floor doors, thinking, “This is it."
One fight. One kill. And then Victoria.
The demon queen looked at me, and I exploded.
Well, not immediately. That was the second time.
I'd heard the stories. Every adventurer who'd made it to her floor and lived to tell about it said the same thing: the demon queen gets in your head. She's manipulative. She'll say your name even if you've never met. She can bring up details from your life that she should not know, personal matters, intimate matters, and use them to throw you off. It's a psychic ability. Some kind of high-level charm or confusion magic. The veterans of the guild made it abundantly clear: ignore her completely. Don't engage. Walk in, fight, and either kill her or die trying. But never speak to her.
So, I walked in, I started my monologue (which was very good; I'd rehearsed it), and she stood up from her throne and looked at me and said my name. "Ayla." She acted like she knew me and we'd met before. Then she started screaming at me.
Her screams were expected. After all, I did arrive to kill her. Her tears, however, were unexpected.
Now. I'd been warned about this. Confusion magic. The illusion of intimacy. She extracts thoughts from your mind and distorts them into a convincing facade. But I will admit that one threw me. I couldn't think for about three seconds, and in a fight against a Calamity-level Archfiend, that's way too long.
I panicked. There she was, sobbing on my shoulder, and I had a dagger in my belt. I thought to myself: this is it; this is my chance; seize the opportunity and strike. Instead of casting a spell, I opted for a dagger. A dagger, against a creature with a CON stat that likely boasted seven digits. In retrospect, I should have cast my strongest spell. I should have put everything into a single arcane burst at point-blank range, taking advantage of her guard being down. But I grabbed the little knife because she was close, and I wasn't thinking clearly.
She felt the blade, shoved me off her and the crying stopped, then I exploded.
So that was day one.
My entire collection of potions, enchanted equipment, backup wands, and everything I had painstakingly acquired over two years lay shattered in her throne room. When Barney resurrected me, I came back with nothing: no gear, no gold, and no plan. By week two, I had a maxed out credit line at the general store.
So now I was broke. Magnificently, catastrophically, irreversibly broke. Everything I had made for tower supplies: potions, tonics, basic rations, the bare minimum to keep me alive long enough to reach the hundredth floor and get exploded again. I couldn't afford to waste a single resource outside the tower walls: no transport scrolls, no fast travel, no teleportation crystals. I walked everywhere, carried my food, and slept only two hours a night.
At least the loot helped. Every time I cleared a floor, the monsters dropped materials: hides, cores, enchanted fragments, the occasional rare item that fetched a decent price at the market. I sold everything. I had no use for a Lamia Scale Pendant or a Frostbitten Oni Tusk except as currency, and currency meant potions, and potions meant one more run.
The funny thing was that I barely had to fight for most of it anymore. The floor guardians had started... letting me through. Not all of them. The lower floors still put up a fight, the ones who took their jobs seriously or hadn't seen me enough times to get bored. But the higher floors? Floors 40 through 90? They'd taken to just stepping aside.
The lamia on 42 waved at me last time.
The spider on eighty barely lifted her head from her work. The oni on 67 nodded at me. The dullahan on 88 didn't even reattach her head anymore.
I took it as a sign. These were the demon queen's own people. They were her generals, her floor bosses. They were clearing a path for me. They knew. They could feel it. They understood that I was the one who was going to end this, and they were getting out of my way, because even monsters respected inevitability.
It was kind of beautiful if you thought about it.
I threw my bag over my shoulder, took my staff from beside the door, and slipped out into the early morning.
The market district was barely awake. A few vendors were setting up stalls, hanging lanterns and rolling out carts of produce and alchemical supplies. The cobblestones were wet from overnight rain.
I made a beeline for Orna's stall. She was the cheapest potion vendor in the quarter, which was a polite way of saying her potions were terrible. But they worked, mostly. She also gave me a discount because I was, in her words, "the saddest customer she'd ever had."
"Morning, Orna!"
"Oh, honey." She looked at me. The way she said it, you'd have thought someone had died. Someone had, technically. Me. About four hours ago. "You look awful."
"Two hours of sleep!"
"That's not something to be happy about."
"It is if you're efficient! I need four lesser healing potions and a stamina tonic."
She began removing bottles from the shelf behind her. Brown glass, hand labeled, slightly cloudy. You got what you paid for with Orna.
"That'll be six silver, two copper."
Half my money. Half of everything I had in the world went for health four potions and a stamina tonic that would keep me on my feet for about six extra hours before the crash hit. I counted out the coins without a second thought. Victoria was worth every coin.
"Tower again?" Orna asked as she wrapped the bottles in cloth.
"Tower again!"
"Mm." She gave me the bundle. Her gaze darted to the side, as if she was scanning for others who might be listening when I mentioned the tower. This was a common reaction from people. "You take care of yourself, all right?"
"Always do! Bye, Orna!"
I slipped the potions into my pack and made my way across the square toward the Adventurer's Guild. I wasn't going in for a contract—I didn't have time for contracts; I had a demon queen to kill, after all.—but the Guild was between the market and the east road and I usually cut through the main hall to save four minutes of walking. Four minutes mattered when you were operating on two hours of sleep.
"Ayla," I heard someone call out.
I stopped. Guildmaster Harlan was standing at the entrance with his arms crossed. He was a large, square man with a long, graying beard. His clerk Donal pretended to go through his pouch, but he was listening very obviously.
"Morning, Guildmaster!"
"Got a minute?"
"I actually don't, I'm heading to the —"
"To the tower. I know." He unfolded his arms. "Listen, I've got a bounty board full of contracts, Ayla. The basilisk den up north is paying 5000 gold. That's more than you've made in the last two months combined."
"That's really generous, but I'm kind of focused on —"
"The demon queen. Yeah." He cast a glance at Donal. Orna's eyes, just like Barney's every night, were cast in the same way. It was the same look that every person had been directing at me for months.
I noticed, but I just didn't care. They couldn't understand. They didn't know what it was to have a purpose. They didn't know what it was to look at Victoria's portrait and feel your whole chest light up, like a spell going off. They didn't know what it was to be in love.
"Ayla." He said. "You're one of the best mages I've seen come through this guild. If you only put that energy into contracts, you could be S-rank within the year. You could have your own team. You could —"
"That's so sweet, Guildmaster. I really appreciate it. But I've got to run!" I hiked my bag up on my shoulder and gave them my biggest smile. "Have a great day! I'm going to the tower!"
"Ayla —"
"Bye!"
I was out and past the gate before before he could finish the sentence. The road lay long and straight ahead of me, cutting through the fields toward the base of the tower. It was visible even from here, a black line scraped against the pale morning sky.
Normally, a mage of my level would use a transport scroll for a trip like this. Twenty minutes versus instant teleportation. But transporting scrolls costs money. Money is for potions, which are for the tower, which is for Victoria.
So I walked. I didn't mind. It was scenic.
I twisted the cap off a bottle of stamina tonic and drank it in three big gulps. The fatigue from two hours of sleep receded enough that I could function for a few more hours, before crashing back in.
The road was empty at that time. Just me and the fresh morning breeze, and the tower looming larger with each step.
The tower loomed above me now, its base wide enough to block out the eastern sky. The entrance glowed faintly with the runes that activated every morning at dawn, when the floors opened for challengers. A few other adventurers were milling around outside. Early risers, low-level parties, people who were there for floors one through ten and thought they were tough because they could handle a goblin wave.
As I walked by, they all stared at me. I heard some of them whisper.
I stepped through the entrance. The runes flared.
[WELCOME BACK, CHALLENGER.]
[CURRENT STREAK: 181]
[MORRÍGAN—STATUS: ACTIVE]
[GOOD LUCK.]
"Thanks," I said to the runes. "Today's the day. I can feel it."
The runes did not respond, but I like to think they were rooting for me too.
Hi guys! If you have made it this far into my story, thank you. In case it isn't obvious, my first attempt at writing a LitRPG. Honestly, I'm having a lot of fun with it. It will not be perfect, but I hope those of you who follow along enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.