A guttural road sounded in the darkness, “Fuck! Terius! You damned snake!” the man shouted, his fist slamming down, on a surface he could not see.
A sweet voice sounded across from him, bright golden eyes gleaming in the dimly lit area.
“Now, now… Don’t ruin the furniture, that table is over 10,000 years old,” the voice dripping with honey almost said.
A moment later a snap of fingers rang through the darkness.
Illumination filled the now visible room. It covered in dark gray bricks, the mortar exposed only to show its white color, the floor below him a finely cut smooth marble.
The man was unperturbed as his eyes quickly scanned the room, and his hand moved to the blade that wasn’t there. In fact nothing was there.
His clothes and armor were gone, stripped from him. He stood stark naked in the room, his feet touching the cool marble barefoot.
He glared at the man across from him sitting at the table, its eyes looking him up and down.
“My my… Aren’t you the specimen? I will have to thank Gaia for the wonderful gift,” he said his hand moving to the table as he tapped the surface with a finger.
“Who are you. And where am I.” the standing man asked matter a factly, almost in a rhetorical tone, as he gave a stoney glare to the man.
The person sitting at the table, looked to be no older than a young boy in his early twenties. His hair as golden as his playful eyes, wearing a pristine white toga across his chest. A golden ringlet sitting on his right breast.
“Now, now… Silvas. Let’s not be rude. That is no way to speak to a god of the Eternal Plain,” mused the God.
“A god? There is no such thing, they are fairy tales and folk stories meant to rally troops and scare children to bed,” Silvas fired back.
“Yes, well. Obviously I am real. I am here aren’t I?” laughed the God, “My name is unimportant, as there are thousands of Gods in the Plain, and more being made by the Tower every few years! Possibly more if we have a good batch of toys…” the God said, a smile creeping on it’s face.
Silvas scoffed, and shot forward, aiming to grab the boy by the throat.
But the God smirked and snapped his fingers, disappearing and reappearing at the other end of the table.
“Oh Silvas, you're hurting my feelings? Do you always play so rough with everyone?” The God perked up slightly, “Or am I special?”
Silvas opened and closed his hand, confused. No one should be able to move that fast. It wasn’t humanly possible.
Maybe there is merit to what this lunatic is saying. Silvas thought.
“Speak boy. What do you want with me? What of my family in Rotutem!” Silvas asked, his voice raising to a shout.
“They are fine. As far as I’m aware, at least. Now you know what happened to you before you, well, died?” asked the God.
Silvas had a sudden flashback of the battle field. The screaming and shouting of men, the clashing sounds of metal on metal and armor. Begs and pleads of men for their lives, wanting to go back to their own families and loved ones.
The sight of his own blade sliding into the chest of a boy no older than 16. Then pain.
Pain in his side as he turned to strike down the man who dared to injure him, his blade slicing through the perpetrator.
But what his hardened steel found was not an enemy.
At least one that was not meant to be.
No. He found Sepitus, one of his upcoming Commanders. Tears in the young man's eyes as he looked up back at him, his body bisected and falling to the ground.
Silvas knew right away what had happened.
The boy’s wife was pregnant, and in a middle class area in the capitol. He was young, naive and easily manipulated if they took his wife and unborn child hostage. And Silvas was sure Terius had done just that to get rid of him.
Silvas cursed as he remembered the pain of the dagger in his side, his hand unconsciously moving to the injury but it was gone. Like everything else.
“May, I have some clothes…” Silvas asked in a soft tone.
“Certainly! Though I am a bit disappointed… But it is my job,” the God snickered.
Light clothing materialized with a snap from the God around Silvas. A hemp shirt, tunks and trousers.
Silvas again thought of the fight before he died. The problem was not the dagger in his side, no wounds of such would not be life threatening, but the poison that dripped from the dagger.
The venom was that of one of the most sinister beasts on Yarusha, the Single Breath Viper.
Its venom was so potent it only allowed the victim to breath for a second before it began the work of asphyxiating the target. And that is just what had happened to Silvas. He fell to his knees on the battlefield, his troops around him encircling him to defend, but it was for naught as Silvas began to struggle to breath, turning purple.
Silvas did the only thing he could think of to breathe for just a few more seconds, and punctured his throat, taking one last breath of air before his body began to fill with blood.
But it was enough. He quickly yanked a tower shield from a nearby soldier, and wrote Terius’s name on the shield in his own blood, one word below it.
Traitor.
Snapping back to the present, Silvas gave a deep sigh. Hoping his message had gotten through before he passed.
Looking up to the God who was now sitting down again on a new chair, his hand tapping away on the wooden table, its gorgeous varnish shining in the now brightly lit room.
Silvas asked again.
“What is it you want of me. If I am not of Yarusha and this…” Silvas looked around once more, “Is not the great black river Hecawe, to take me to the afterlife. What am I, and what is it that I must do.”
The God laughed, and placed both hands on the table, “You are now on the Plains of Eternia! In the wonderful city of Ova! The city of Opportunity!” the God explained, a small clap of his hands to give effect.
Silvas raised a brow.
“Oh you are such a stick in the mud…” The God said, deflating with a slump, “Here.”
The God snapped again and a box of blue light formed in front of Silvas. Something he had never witnessed before.
Silvas waved his hand through the light unsure of what it was.
“It’s a screen… It displays your stats and levels as well as skills,” the God said derisively with a grin, “You read it.”
Silvas looked again at the screen, noticing the words on it.
Name: Silvas
You are reading story They are Watching [Interactive LitRPG Tower Climb] at novel35.com
Race: Human [E]
Level: 0
Class: NA
Vitality 12
Strength 14
Agility 10
Perception 11
Intelligence 9
Wisdom 9
Endurance 12
Resistance 10
Free Points: 0
Skill Points: 0
Skills: NA
Passive Traits: Poison Resistance Lvl 1.
Titles: NA
Silvas balked at the information.
“What is this rubbish?” he asked.
The God stood up and placed a dainty hand on Silvas’s shoulder.
“This my friend is your beginning to the end! This screen will be your bestest bud in the whole wide world for the next… Well, however long it takes you to climb the tower!” The God shouted.
“Tower? The Tower of Eternia that you mentioned?” Silvas questioned, his eyes turning to the hand on his shoulder, before brushing it away.
The God recoiled with a frown, in faux hurt, “Yes, that is what I said. The Tower will give you great opportunities. Fight to the top and you will be granted any wish you desire. Be that power, Godhood,” the God looked upwards at the towering Silvas, “Returning to your family, and world.”
Silvas’s eyes widened at the statement, his heartbeat racing.
He would be able to return for only fighting? He had no qualms about it. He had fought his entire life already, what was a few years more.
But Silvas was used to dealing with underhanded politicians, making him weary of the upbeat God.
“What else? That can not possibly be the only thing you require of me,” Silvas asked, crossing his arms.
The God failed his arms in front of his face in panic, “No no! That is what it basically boils down to! Sure you will have to do more than ‘just fight’. But you will climb the Tower and gain fame and status on the Eternal Plains. You may find friendship, rivals, lovers or family here in Ova if you wish. The possibilities are endless! But first!” the God chirped again, snapping his fingers, “The God’s will decide your class!”
Suddenly a huge new screen faced Silvas. A near endless list of Titles and descriptions being shown.
Light Warrior
Medium Warrior
Heavy Warrior
Mage
Druid
Light Ranger
Heavy Ranger
Cleric
Entertainer
Supporter
Craftsman
Silvas’s eyes scanned the list quickly, but went over the list again and again. Unsure of the stats, but pleased with understanding most of the descriptions.
There had been no ‘magic’ in Yarusha, but they did have something akin to what he gleaned from the descriptions called Ki.
Before he could ask, the God read his mind almost and answered, “These are only the basics, at level 10 you gain the ability to branch out, and there is a chance a class can gain a unique class! The classes are ranked from common up until Legendary. Each one after the basic classes having their own merits and demerits in both status upgrades and skills. The Gods already understand this, so this is just for you,” he explained with a wink.
“Now, now, now! Ladies and Gentlemen of the Eternia Plains! How will you decide Silvas’s future path!” roared the God, with a half bow, his head raised with pointed eyes and an sinister smile.