FINAL CORE : [A holy dungeon-core litRPG] - Chapter 56

~ Of the nature of magical-affinities from Sister Samshi’s guide to priesthood

Isaiah stares down through the very unusual floor of the tower that it finds itself on.

“Not bad, right?” asks Crystal.

Isaiah looks towards him and then back down again. The floor of floors seventy-one to eighty are all made entirely of crystalline-glass of many colors. “Since the sevens are going to be based off of the holy element, I thought it would be interesting to play with light a little bit,” explains the uthra. Isaiah lifts its gaze, looking at the monsters that wander the floor. They’re odd, crystal-bodied entities that are shaped somewhat like spiders, but they are made out of the shards that Black and the others had collected from the northern hills a few days prior.

“We’ll start off light with these guys,” says Crystal. "The spider things are a good blend-over from the nature floors connected to the neighboring segment," he explains. "Then we’ll really power up the challenge by mixing in some bigger monsters to make them squirm.”

Isaiah nods. It’s not a terrible combination. The spiders will crawl around the arena, creating their magical webs to block off the pathing of any adventurers, who will be ignoring the spiders as they are likely going to be fighting another, more prominent foe at the same time.

“Keep me updated,” says Isaiah, lifting up into the air to start designing the next floor.

The orcish girl runs up the staircase, pulling on the hand of the boy behind herself. “Come on!” she calls out to him. He’s barely able to keep up.

He tries to pull back, but she’s just stronger than he is. “We shouldn’t be here again!” he argues. “We got in huge trouble last time.”

“It’s fine!” she counters. “Everybody from the city is going here now, so it has to be okay, right?” she asks. “Besides, nobody believes us that we saw it.” She stops, looking at him and then up the long, long, long staircase that had been built in a matter of days at a speed that was just, quite simply, impossible. She turns back to look his way. “So we have to prove that we did!”

“We almost got eaten though!” argues the boy, presumably recalling the monster that lived in the river.

“Don’t worry about that!” she replies and yanks him up as they keep going, heading up the gigantic staircase, up towards the floating island.

For someone who had spent her entire life living in the forest, the air is contrastingly fresh up here.

Isaiah nods to itself as it flies around the room. This area is starting to take shape.

It looks down below itself, staring through the glass floors of the arena and those down below it. Crystal is buzzing around a few floors down, busy at work at getting the other encounters set up.

It rubs its forehead, looking around. There is always more to do. It should go back to fix up some earlier floors. Those are probably more important. It will be a while still, before any adventurers get in this deeply into the tower. Although… It is kind of invested now that it has started, and the tower is running itself at the moment, as the humans are just going about their usual business down low to the ground.

Isaiah looks back upwards, through many glass floors, all the way up to floor eighty.

It seems like a good opportunity to use some of that gold that they have been storing. It has an idea in mind that will fit nicely for the boss-fight of this section.

Rorate rests outside by the river, sitting on the embankment with her legs in the stream. The melusine swims around just beneath the water, chasing after rays of daylight that pierce through it and shoot down towards the mud. The water pearls with speckles of glistening sunlight.

It’s somewhat unusual for her to be outside of the tower. The others never leave it. Caeli and her party, while able to do so now that they have been pardoned, seem to have found a creature comfort in the tower and just want to stay there as much as they can. Beulah has really taken to his work in a frightening way. The man is obsessed with it and never wants to do anything else.

She shrugs to herself.

It could be worse, she supposes. It’s honest work, at least.

The monk from the second inspection team hasn’t become any more verbose. She just sort of meditates and trains all day, though Rorate has no idea for what, exactly. If you watch her, you’d think that she’s getting ready for the end of the world.

The dark-elf looks down towards the water as the melusine pops back up, holding something in her cupped hands to show to her.

— It’s a rock.

“Woah,” says Rorate, leaning in to look at the rock from the bottom of the river. It’s a very nice rock, all things considered. There’s nothing special or magical about it. It’s just neat. “That’s a nice rock. Great job!”

The melusine holds it up higher, presenting it to her.

Rorate takes it from her gratefully and smiles. Beulah had shown off the other day, parading around their rooms with his rock, that he had gotten as a present. Well, this ought to give him a run for his money.

Besides, she’s never been given a nice rock before.

What a good day today is.

Leaves fall around him as he wanders through the forest, down the roads and the streets. Binet follows every twist and every turn, sometimes walking back around to a place that he had been at before, only to then take a different road in the hopes that it leads to a place he hasn’t yet been.

It’s been weeks since he set out from his home. Whispers of an oddity had reached him back then and he had just gotten back from his latest trip, so it only made sense for him to pack his freshly unpacked bag up again and to keep walking.

There had been only one, significant issue.

By metrics of distance and time, from his house, it should have perhaps taken him a day or two at most to reach the tower.

— But he is horrible with directions.

Binet breaks out of the forest, finally finding a breath of fresh air again after moving into the open field beyond its thick coverage.

This breath, however, makes little effort to stay in his lungs as his eyes wander up along the way towards the horizon. There, sitting as an impossible sight to miss, is a staircase.

His eyes follow it upwards along its length. He can see shadowy blobs, silhouettes of people, moving on their ways upward. Some of them are still in motion, taking the effort to climb towards the sunset behind the island before nightfall. The ruby glow of which silhouettes the tower that pierces the sky itself.

Other people seem to have simply set up their camps on the stairway. He can see tents propped up together, fastened into the stonework in order to stand against the winds. Smoke hints of fires being made with wood brought from below.

Binet imagines that for many people, walking to the tower is hard enough. But walking up the staircase?

His eyes follow it, still not quite having reached the end of its span.

— That’s a real endeavor.

At least he won’t get lost.

The man hoists the creaky leather straps of his old bag upright and heads towards it, wondering if he can make it up in one go or not.

How many weeks has it been?

He doesn’t know anymore.

Idly, aimlessly, mindlessly, the goblin continues to whack against the pipe just like he does every day. The patrolling group of ‘fake’ goblins walk by behind him on their routes, just like they do every six minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

They have yet to realize that he isn’t one of them.

For days, weeks, he has been here, trapped, after the initial assault on the tower from his group that had failed spectacularly. He has been surviving by eating spiders and rats and the corpses of monsters that adventurers have killed in the tower.

– When they come, he hides.

The monsters here always respawn, they come back. But he can’t come back. He isn’t one of them.

He’s just been here pretending forever, so that they won’t know. So that they won’t kill him. This is what he has to do, there is no other way out for him. There hasn’t been a chance to escape the tower.

The patrol group walks on past around the corner and he stops, sighing. His arms don’t ache anymore, not like they did in the early days.

– Voices. Humans. They’re coming from downstairs.

Quickly, he stops his ‘work’ and runs into a hidden niche, made out of many different pipes coming together down in the corner of the room. Nobody ever looks there and he’s been successfully able to hide. But it’s too cramped to stay in all day and the pipes are searing hot.

A group of adventurers run in and blast their way through the fake goblins, as if they weren’t even there. He recognizes them. This group is here often. They move fast. They’re strong. If they see him, it’s over.

After a minute of explosions and chaotic violence, they leave the room, heading upstairs and he sneaks out of the pipes, safe for another day.

His eyes wander to the doorway, leading downstairs. Thoughts of leaving, of running out down through the tower to escape come to him, as they always do. Of course, the humans would have had to kill all of the monsters below to get here. But… what if they didn’t? What if there are traps and other mechanisms? What of the outside?

“Hey,” says a voice from behind him. He shrieks in surprised terror, falling down and crawling backwards, as he looks up at the red, glowing shape that hovers above him.

There’s a clinking sound of metal and he watches as a coin rattles down at his feet, clamoring against the stones. “I like your spirit,” says the red entity. “I figured you’d hold on a day, maybe two. But we just hit thirty!” she says, leaning down towards him. He flinches. An audible sigh comes from above. “Really showed me. Get the fuck out of here,” says the voice and by the time he looks back, she’s gone.

The goblin looks down to the golden coin at his feet, picking it up.

Isaiah looks over from its work, feeling content. The passive experience-point generation system has been working very well. Between the prayers it receives and the arrival of new-comers and the constant onslaughts against the dungeon, experience-points have been flowing in nicely. The ‘grand-icon’ ability has also been pulling its weight. Isaiah has noticed recently that there have been an increase in passive gains from this particular perk.

From this, it can only decipher that the humans are becoming more and more excited about the tower, about it. Otherwise, why would they be speaking of it? Perhaps Rorate’s gospel has traveled to the city now as well?

Many such things are possible.

And all of this, without a single hair harmed on anyone’s head.

Maybe, after the drama with the witch, Perchta, there still remains hope yet for a productive, cooperative future with the humans?

It looks over towards its choice of abilities.

His chest heaves in and out as he holds onto the knife, pressing into his chest.

A crooked, half-gasp escapes his mouth as the bishop stares into the cardinal’s eyes.

“- You chose this,” says the cardinal from the north. Many of the other cardinals are in the room, where they had allegedly been gathering for further discussion on the matter of the tower.

Bishop Zacaries Montero feels his legs give out and he falls to the ground.

Unable to lift his head further, he sees only the boots standing there for a time, before they then turn around and walk away.

“Brothers. We have a lot to discuss,” says the cardinal from the north as the men gather together. “There’s a problem to solve.”

His vision goes dark.

Bishop Zacarias Montero dies.

Razmatazz

- - - - - -

Apple, Kobo, Barnes and Nobles and other platforms here!

Of the nature of magical-affinities. Oftentimes, fledgling adventurers will go far out of their way in order to understand and study the intricacies of a form of magic that they are not naturally familiar with. What is meant by this is that people, humans and elves mostly*, are sometimes born with an innate tendency towards prowess in a particular branch of magic, such as FIRE or NATURE, or even sub-elements as LIGHTNING or ASH. Should these talented individuals pursue paths of this magical nature, a strong tendency towards success is essentially guaranteed. However, some people do not find themselves to identify with their given natural gifts. Most often, we see this with individuals who have a natural tendency towards unsavory forms of magic, such as POISON or ASH Essentially, anything related to the DARK tree of elements. Oftentimes, these people will ignore their natural talents, hammering them away into obscurity with intense study of other schools of magic, in order to live normal, socially acceptable lives. In many cases, this works out well enough and while a person who is naturally gifted in an element will never be as good in another element as they would have in it, will certainly live to a higher quality of life nonetheless for making the switch. A lifetime as a wandering priest with no possessions is a life better lived than a day as a necromancer. *Humans and elves of both varieties seem to be the most subject to magical-affinities from birth. While not unheard of in orcs and dwarves, it is far less common to occur. We do not know why this is. ~ Of the nature of magical-affinities from Sister Samshi's guide to priesthood Isaiah stares down through the very unusual floor of the tower that it finds itself on. Not bad, right? asks Crystal. Isaiah looks towards him and then back down again. The floor of floors seventy-one to eighty are all made entirely of crystalline-glass of many colors. Since the sevens are going to be based off of the holy element, I thought it would be interesting to play with light a little bit, explains the uthra. Isaiah lifts its gaze, looking at the monsters that wander the floor. They're odd, crystal-bodied entities that are shaped somewhat like spiders, but they are made out of the shards that Black and the others had collected from the northern hills a few days prior. ~ Light Scattering Spider ~ Class: Monster Element: HOLY {LIGHT} Type: Supporter Category: Elemental Rank: C+ Level: 52 A strange, glassy creature. Its body is composed of a series of humming, light-radiating crystals that are bound together by ambient magical currents. While not particularly aggressive, light scattering spiders create shimmering webs of condensed HOLY magic that are extremely dangerous to touch. HP: 00/00 SOUL: 70/70 *Elementals do not have health-points. Instead, their soul-points act as health. Condensed Magical Thread: The light scattering spider will release a thread of humming magical energies that is not only extremely bright, but dangerous to come into contact with. Upon Touching: Does not have a physical presence and can be passed through. However, for every second that an entity is inside of a string or web, they take 1% of their total MAX-HP. This effect stacks per thread. We'll start off light with these guys, says Crystal. "The spider things are a good blend-over from the nature floors connected to the neighboring segment," he explains. "Then we'll really power up the challenge by mixing in some bigger monsters to make them squirm. Isaiah nods. It's not a terrible combination. The spiders will crawl around the arena, creating their magical webs to block off the pathing of any adventurers, who will be ignoring the spiders as they are likely going to be fighting another, more prominent foe at the same time. Keep me updated, says Isaiah, lifting up into the air to start designing the next floor. ~ Azaza ~ Orc, Female, None The orcish girl runs up the staircase, pulling on the hand of the boy behind herself. Come on! she calls out to him. He's barely able to keep up. He tries to pull back, but she's just stronger than he is. We shouldn't be here again! he argues. We got in huge trouble last time. It's fine! she counters. Everybody from the city is going here now, so it has to be okay, right? she asks. Besides, nobody believes us that we saw it. She stops, looking at him and then up the long, long, long staircase that had been built in a matter of days at a speed that was just, quite simply, impossible. She turns back to look his way. So we have to prove that we did! We almost got eaten though! argues the boy, presumably recalling the monster that lived in the river. Don't worry about that! she replies and yanks him up as they keep going, heading up the gigantic staircase, up towards the floating island. For someone who had spent her entire life living in the forest, the air is contrastingly fresh up here. ~ Isaiah ~ ~ Dungeon ~ Floor {75} CHALLENGE ROOM Hall of Jewels The hall of jewels is a large, well decorated chamber that is full of bright, beautiful jewels of many colors. These are attached to a rotating mechanism in the center of the room, flying around the space in a slow, circular pattern. These colors are reminiscent of the orbs of many colors that are said to always fly around Isaiah. Monsters: {152} Traps: {07} Challenge Room: The gems of many colors will project images of various monsters and challenges, corresponding to their hue. The challenge presented by each gem must be beaten in order to proceed. Challenges can range from simple enemy encounters to puzzle mechanics. Success will be rewarded with an additional, high-quality treasure chest. Isaiah nods to itself as it flies around the room. This area is starting to take shape. It looks down below itself, staring through the glass floors of the arena and those down below it. Crystal is buzzing around a few floors down, busy at work at getting the other encounters set up. It rubs its forehead, looking around. There is always more to do. It should go back to fix up some earlier floors. Those are probably more important. It will be a while still, before any adventurers get in this deeply into the tower. Although It is kind of invested now that it has started, and the tower is running itself at the moment, as the humans are just going about their usual business down low to the ground. Isaiah looks back upwards, through many glass floors, all the way up to floor eighty. It seems like a good opportunity to use some of that gold that they have been storing. It has an idea in mind that will fit nicely for the boss-fight of this section. ~ Rorate ~ Dark-Elf, Female, Fighter Rorate rests outside by the river, sitting on the embankment with her legs in the stream. The melusine swims around just beneath the water, chasing after rays of daylight that pierce through it and shoot down towards the mud. The water pearls with speckles of glistening sunlight. It's somewhat unusual for her to be outside of the tower. The others never leave it. Caeli and her party, while able to do so now that they have been pardoned, seem to have found a creature comfort in the tower and just want to stay there as much as they can. Beulah has really taken to his work in a frightening way. The man is obsessed with it and never wants to do anything else. She shrugs to herself. It could be worse, she supposes. It's honest work, at least. The monk from the second inspection team hasn't become any more verbose. She just sort of meditates and trains all day, though Rorate has no idea for what, exactly. If you watch her, you'd think that she's getting ready for the end of the world. The dark-elf looks down towards the water as the melusine pops back up, holding something in her cupped hands to show to her. It's a rock. Woah, says Rorate, leaning in to look at the rock from the bottom of the river. It's a very nice rock, all things considered. There's nothing special or magical about it. It's just neat. That's a nice rock. Great job! The melusine holds it up higher, presenting it to her. Rorate takes it from her gratefully and smiles. Beulah had shown off the other day, parading around their rooms with his rock, that he had gotten as a present. Well, this ought to give him a run for his money. - Pretty{High Quality}Rock - A rock. Weight: 0.6 kg Value: 000 Obols Besides, she's never been given a nice rock before. What a good day today is. ~ Binet ~ Human, Male, Pilgrim Leaves fall around him as he wanders through the forest, down the roads and the streets. Binet follows every twist and every turn, sometimes walking back around to a place that he had been at before, only to then take a different road in the hopes that it leads to a place he hasn't yet been. It's been weeks since he set out from his home. Whispers of an oddity had reached him back then and he had just gotten back from his latest trip, so it only made sense for him to pack his freshly unpacked bag up again and to keep walking. There had been only one, significant issue. By metrics of distance and time, from his house, it should have perhaps taken him a day or two at most to reach the tower. But he is horrible with directions. Binet breaks out of the forest, finally finding a breath of fresh air again after moving into the open field beyond its thick coverage. This breath, however, makes little effort to stay in his lungs as his eyes wander up along the way towards the horizon. There, sitting as an impossible sight to miss, is a staircase. His eyes follow it upwards along its length. He can see shadowy blobs, silhouettes of people, moving on their ways upward. Some of them are still in motion, taking the effort to climb towards the sunset behind the island before nightfall. The ruby glow of which silhouettes the tower that pierces the sky itself. Other people seem to have simply set up their camps on the stairway. He can see tents propped up together, fastened into the stonework in order to stand against the winds. Smoke hints of fires being made with wood brought from below. Binet imagines that for many people, walking to the tower is hard enough. But walking up the staircase? His eyes follow it, still not quite having reached the end of its span. That's a real endeavor. At least he won't get lost. The man hoists the creaky leather straps of his old bag upright and heads towards it, wondering if he can make it up in one go or not. ~ Grob ~ Goblin, Male, Scout Location: Floor Seventeen of the Tower How many weeks has it been? He doesn't know anymore. Idly, aimlessly, mindlessly, the goblin continues to whack against the pipe just like he does every day. The patrolling group of fake' goblins walk by behind him on their routes, just like they do every six minutes and thirty-seven seconds. They have yet to realize that he isn't one of them. For days, weeks, he has been here, trapped, after the initial assault on the tower from his group that had failed spectacularly. He has been surviving by eating spiders and rats and the corpses of monsters that adventurers have killed in the tower. When they come, he hides. The monsters here always respawn, they come back. But he can't come back. He isn't one of them. He's just been here pretending forever, so that they won't know. So that they won't kill him. This is what he has to do, there is no other way out for him. There hasn't been a chance to escape the tower. The patrol group walks on past around the corner and he stops, sighing. His arms don't ache anymore, not like they did in the early days. Voices. Humans. They're coming from downstairs. Quickly, he stops his work' and runs into a hidden niche, made out of many different pipes coming together down in the corner of the room. Nobody ever looks there and he's been successfully able to hide. But it's too cramped to stay in all day and the pipes are searing hot. A group of adventurers run in and blast their way through the fake goblins, as if they weren't even there. He recognizes them. This group is here often. They move fast. They're strong. If they see him, it's over. After a minute of explosions and chaotic violence, they leave the room, heading upstairs and he sneaks out of the pipes, safe for another day. His eyes wander to the doorway, leading downstairs. Thoughts of leaving, of running out down through the tower to escape come to him, as they always do. Of course, the humans would have had to kill all of the monsters below to get here. But what if they didn't? What if there are traps and other mechanisms? What of the outside? Hey, says a voice from behind him. He shrieks in surprised terror, falling down and crawling backwards, as he looks up at the red, glowing shape that hovers above him. There's a clinking sound of metal and he watches as a coin rattles down at his feet, clamoring against the stones. I like your spirit, says the red entity. I figured you'd hold on a day, maybe two. But we just hit thirty! she says, leaning down towards him. He flinches. An audible sigh comes from above. Really showed me. Get the fuck out of here, says the voice and by the time he looks back, she's gone. The goblin looks down to the golden coin at his feet, picking it up. ~ Isaiah ~ ~ Prayers ~ The tower gains ambient magic from the arrival of a stranger. +17 EXP EXP: 3450/3450 Level Up! ~ Isaiah ~ You are now a level {15} dungeon-core! Level: 15 Experience: 02/4000 Attribute: HOLY Soul-Points: 48/48 Presence: 6.052 km Obols: 157 ~ Isaiah ~ +1 Ability points You may choose {1} new ability. Isaiah looks over from its work, feeling content. The passive experience-point generation system has been working very well. Between the prayers it receives and the arrival of new-comers and the constant onslaughts against the dungeon, experience-points have been flowing in nicely. The grand-icon' ability has also been pulling its weight. Isaiah has noticed recently that there have been an increase in passive gains from this particular perk. From this, it can only decipher that the humans are becoming more and more excited about the tower, about it. Otherwise, why would they be speaking of it? Perhaps Rorate's gospel has traveled to the city now as well? Many such things are possible. And all of this, without a single hair harmed on anyone's head. Maybe, after the drama with the witch, Perchta, there still remains hope yet for a productive, cooperative future with the humans? It looks over towards its choice of abilities. ~ Isaiah ~ Please choose an ability from one of the following trees. - Sanctuary - Focuses on spreading the roots of your dungeon for as far as you can. The further a dungeon's reach extends, the more resources you will be able to collect and the larger your dungeon will become. Precipice of Hope {1} Anyone who has been marked by any of the statuses: CRIMINALCURSED will be restored to full HP and SOUL one time upon entering the dungeon territory, once a month. All negative statuses will be removed and they will receive a 25% bonus to all stats for a duration of 1 hour. Garden of Peace Nourished by the hallowed ground, extremely rare plants and fungi take root here that can not exist fruitfully anywhere else. Whole of Body While on the grounds outside and inside of the tower, all living creatures receive +1 HP / five minutes. All DARK/UNDEAD/DEMON entities are damaged at a rate of -1 MAX HP / five minutes - Holy - Focuses on your core attribute and imparting as much of this essence onto your dungeon as possible. Each attribute offers its own benefits and perks. Majestia - Further enhances the abilities of the dungeon-core, allowing it to use a variety of HOLY summoning spells to call in monsters for direct assistance. Birds of a Feather Birds of all kinds are particularly affine to the tower and to the tranquility it offers. They will flock around its heights and aggressively swarm any creatures that are UNDEAD or DARK Avatar - Using HOLY sub-element LIGHT, casts an illusionary change over the exterior gestalt of the dungeon-core, causing it to appear human. All current restrictions to core-activity remain in place. - Bastion - Focuses on the physical and magical defenses of your dungeon. Allows access to sturdier walls, tricks and traps and mazes and mechanisms, as well as higher level monsters to defend your floors. Traps : Allows your worker minions to develop simple traps and snares in your dungeon, in order to hurt enemies before they can get too deep. Advanced Smithing Allows your workers to create advanced weapons and armor, such as high-quality swords to augment your monsters that are capable of using equipment. Spatial Room Refactoring Allows the separation of choices floors into smaller collections of rooms, rather than simply one room per floor. ~ Bishop Zacaries Montero ~ Human, Male, Bishop His chest heaves in and out as he holds onto the knife, pressing into his chest. A crooked, half-gasp escapes his mouth as the bishop stares into the cardinal's eyes. - You chose this, says the cardinal from the north. Many of the other cardinals are in the room, where they had allegedly been gathering for further discussion on the matter of the tower. Bishop Zacaries Montero feels his legs give out and he falls to the ground. Unable to lift his head further, he sees only the boots standing there for a time, before they then turn around and walk away. Brothers. We have a lot to discuss, says the cardinal from the north as the men gather together. There's a problem to solve. His vision goes dark. Bishop Zacarias Montero dies. Razmatazz - - - - - - Apple, Kobo, Barnes and Nobles and other platforms here!