Magic Breaker [Enby MC Anti-Mage LitRPG]

“I want to climb,” Opal says.

It took a little while for everyone to wake up. Bay was tired after yesterday’s wall-disassembly escapades, but as we all eat a little bit of crappy dried food for breakfast, Opal speaks.

Sylves readily agrees. “Me too,” she says.

“Yeah,” Thatch says. “I don’t wanna be powerless again.” He gives me a glance.

I nod. “We’re climbing,” I say. It’s not a question, even as I see Norman frown slightly. Dar seems pleased, while Richard is entirely preoccupied with shovelling the remains of our campfire in her mouth. 

“Do we have to go up?” Jess asks. It’s not insecure in the way I expected. She’s not scared, or intimidated, it’s a genuine question on the necessity of it all.

“No,” I shake my head. “We don’t. I think most descenders will be gone when promising candidates have ascended. Things here will be somewhat safe, somewhat stable, but crappy.”

Inu glances at me, and I nod. She should explain it. I can already feel myself growing tired of talking. “There will be problems staying on Earth,” she says. “I’d wager there’ll be more monster spawns. You’d need to figure out sustainable food, rebuild a modicum of society, and decide how to do wealth. And, of course,” she adds, “there is always the chance of someone coming down and just taking your livelihood.”

“Now, if you stay allied with us, we can smack them around for it afterward,” Opal says. “But that won’t stop anyone in the moment.”

“There is also a chance some of you will be used as hostages,” Sylves adds.

It’s the age old thing. When everyone has superpowers, having bigger superpowers is the best way to defend yourself. Laws are lovely. They are punishments for deeds that make people unsafe. But the guns have already been handed out, and there is nothing better than a really big shield. A bunker. And that needs suitable powers, too.

I take a breath, as Inu goes on. “Earth will need to be restored,” she says. “I’m sure there are people who have jobs, who intend to take care of this place, of our new ‘floor 0’. That’s Earth’s new identity, plain and simple. I don’t intend to be weak. The stronger I am, the more I can help. So, I’ll climb.”

“Why do we need to climb to become strong?” Jess asks again.

Opal laughs, for just a moment. “Because it’s obvious,” they say. “This place, the tower, wants us to be strong. To put on a show. To reach as high as we can. Burn like brilliant little fireworks. I don’t intend to burn out, though.” A vicious grin slowly spreads on their face. “I intend to climb.”

“Some people have advantages on us,” Thatch notes. “People who were integrated before. Maybe even people who were born in the tower. We don’t know how big it is, how long it has been around, which planets it has been to, whether it’s limited to our universe. There are descenders, though. People who have made it high up, and came back down. Somewhere in the ascension, there is inherent power.”

“Climbing is probably a way to level supremacy,” Sylves says, and I nod. “Proving to the tower, to the world at large, that we are good enough to ascend. Maybe there are limits placed, depending on what floor we reach. Soft caps, or something.”

I nod. “But we’re speculating,” I say, cutting the conversation there. “The only way to find out is to climb. You can come with, or you can stay,” I say, rising to my feet. “I’m climbing. System, how do I ascend?”

At that, the sky breaks.

The eyes part in a few spots, a few thin pieces where something happens, properly.

Pillars of light slam down from the sky. Ascension Wells. The name pops into my head, explaining what they are. Like stairwells, but entirely different. A challenge, placed by the tower itself, tribulation and opportunity at once.

“That’ll do it,” Opal says, smiling, hefting their sword onto their shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Amelie rolls up next to them, wheelchair pushed by one of her puppets. Sylves floats up, Inu rolls her shoulders, and Thatch rubs his eyes. I take a deep breath as we all gather, and head for the nearest ascension well.

“Will there be things to set on fire?” Richard asks.

“Absolutely,” I tell her.

“Delightful.”

- - -

When we near the ascension well, there are gunshot sounds. By now it feels like virtually everyone has a gun, be that from personal ownership, stealing it from a shop, or taking it off the corpse of a police officer. 

It’s in the middle of the forest, and as we break through the tree cover, I immediately spot two dozen people duking it out. The scene is mesmerizing. Skills flying off in all directions, blasts of element, shimmering mana, people swinging weapons, sneaking about… it’s beautiful, in its own messy, chaotic way.

I see a shirtless, built man tossing around boulders. A lanky, scholarly looking person reading from a suspiciously glowing book. A girl that there are two copies of, moving in perfect sync - and for a moment I wonder if they’re twins with a communication skill, or a single person with a clone skill.

Then, I look down.

There’s a glowing circle inscribed in the grass, and as soon as my foot touches it, I get a prompt.

[Ascend?]

Yes.

[Challenge: Sphinx’s Riddle. Your power is without question. Your knowledge as much boon as burden.]

The world around me shimmers. All the other climbers disappear. Everyone gets their own challenge, it seems.

I thought there were some party based ones… but if there are, then I’m not seen as part of our party. That’s fine, though. I don’t mind it. Slowly, I take a deep breath, closing my eyes.

Beneath me, the ground changes to become sand. Dunes and dunes, the illusion stretching on endlessly. I know it’s fake, because the sand doesn’t immediately go into my shoes. In fact, it feels almost soft, rather than the usual uncomfortable, grainy sensation. Like it sticks to itself more than anything else.

For a few brief moments, I enjoy the feeling of the sun on my hair. It’s comfortable for all of ten seconds, then it becomes a little too warm, and the illusion settles down to be more temperate. “You’re adjusting this to be comfortable for me,” I say. “Stop reading my mind.”

“You could tell I appeared?” a feminine voice asks. 

I shake my head, smiling. “No. I just guessed.”

“Fine, then. Do you still want the sun to be cooler?” it asks. 

“Yes,” I agree. I wanted it in the first place, but I also want them to ask, not just assume. “How long do I have here?”

“Time is still the same as outside the illusion. The faster you finish, the greater your rewards.”

For a second, I hum, keeping my eyes closed. “Hmmmmm. Fine,” I say, opening them, looking upon the sphinx. It’s titanic, made from beige stone, yet surprisingly animate. It seems to paw at me, coming up against some sort of barrier. 

“I will give thee riddles three,” it says.

“If I answer wrong?”

The sphinx’s face twists into a feral grin. “I shall eat you.”

A small smirk places itself on my lip. “That’s a lie.”

It, no, she blinks. “How did you know?”

“I just guessed,” I shrug. The creature eyes me curiously, but before she can ask more questions, I speak up again. “Give me your first riddle.”

A moment passes where she just eyes me. With something between curiosity and amusement. Then, she moves on. “This one should be easy for you,” the giant lioness purrs. “It has keys, but no locks. Light and shade, intertwined. It shares things with a circle, and with rejection. What is it?”

Fun. I like riddles. “A piano,” I reply. 

The sphinx grins. “Correct,” it replies. “Pi-a-no. What a silly musical instrument. Do you enjoy playing it?”

I smile a little. “I suppose so? Sure.”

“Next riddle?” she asks, tilting her head.

I nod.

“What can be high or low, must always be cleared, held to yourself or to others, on a fail you might sneer? To pass is the minimum anyone would expect, the very default choice if you want respect. And yet that same thing always runs ahead, low but unreachable, it causes much dread,” the sphinx says.

That is much harder. Much, much harder. At first, I think of… a bar? People want you to pass it, but it moves ahead. Expectations? But those aren’t really held against anyone. 

Then it clicks. “Standards,” I reply. 

Once more, the lioness grins, clapping her rocky paws together. “Wonderful!” she praises. “Delightful. I wish I could ask you more, but I will have to live with this one being my last,” she says.

“Looks down from up high, way up in the sky. Bigger than any human comprehends, and yet so small, it can fit in your hand. And often, so often, it ever falls, and yet never touches the ground at all. What is it?” 

“The sun,” I say with a small smile. 

At that, the sphinx rumbles with laughter. “Yes! Yes. Delightful. I-”

“Sorry, could you talk a little more quietly?” I ask. The thing is big, and its exclamations of happiness, while sweet, are causing me a headache.

“Oh, of course,” she says. “Sorry. I got carried away. You have succeeded my trial, delver, and earned your ascension.”

[Level up! 14 > 15]

All three points go in vessel. The sphinx begins to shimmer and dissipate, the illusion vanishing. Then, it shoots me a grin. “I like you, human! Have a final riddle. I am the solution to any problem. The key to all locks. Enough of me and you shall want for nothing. And yet, I will never be enough. Chase me and you will forever fail, but find me in yourself and you shall prevail!”

And then, the image cracks and falls apart. A final riddle, just for me. The sphinx… was it real? I’m curious. She felt kind. Childish, in some ways, but still sweet. Clearly trying to help me, I think. At least at the end there.

I don’t think she would have been quite as excited to help me if I’d failed her riddles, but that’s okay. If someone insulted my favourite genre of music, I’d probably also be a lot less excited to keep speaking with them. That’s only reasonable, really.

The illusion keeps breaking, flaking away, except this time, I’m not returned to the real world. Instead, as the desert fades, I find myself in a stairwell.

[Challenge completed. Ascend.]

And that’s exactly what I do. The first floor awaits.