Apocalypse Architect: A Tower Defense LitRPG

Chapter 130: The Will

“Haha! An eight-hour cooldown? That’s manageable.”

Jax was incredibly satisfied with the [Holo-Decoy] upgrade.

He quickly scanned his post-promotion stats. Aside from the standardization of his physical attributes and the acquisition of a Skill Point, the system remained largely unchanged.

“Back to the grind,” Jax said, signaling Elena.

They fell into a rhythmic efficiency. The strategy was simple but effective: “Shoot and Scoot.”

Elena would provoke the swarm with sniper fire. When the mass of chitin and rage surged toward them, Jax would reverse the truck, keeping them just outside the aggression range of the insects. Once the monsters lost interest and turned back, they would close the distance and repeat the process.

The swarm was mindless, and its movement speed was predictable. As long as they didn’t get greedy, they were untouchable.

Meanwhile, back in The Sprawl, the atmosphere was far less optimistic.

The Iron Spear squad that had failed to recruit Jax returned with their report. They stood before a council of the city’s major families, heads bowed.

“Is that exactly what he said?” one of the patriarchs demanded, his voice trembling with indignation.

“Yes, sir,” the squad leader mumbled. “Word for word.”

“The arrogance!” a heavy-set man slammed his fist on the table. “Who does he think he is, lecturing us? We have a strategy! We’re preserving our strength for the final stand. If we deplete our reserves now, what will we use when the walls actually breach?”

“Exactly,” another leader chimed in, swirling his wine glass. “Ignore him. Those two are probably just agitators sent to demoralize us. If they don’t want to cooperate, let them rot in the wasteland. We continue to wait.”

Sawyer, sitting at the head of the table, felt a vein throb in his temple. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Wait?” Sawyer stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “You want to wait until the swarm is eating your children? Is that the plan?”

The room went silent. The family heads turned their cold, calculating eyes on him.

“Ahem,” one of them coughed delicately. “Mr. Sawyer, let’s be honest. The Helios Syndicate has the largest private army in the city. If anyone should be leading the charge, it’s you.”

“Right,” another agreed, smiling thinly. “Why don’t you start the offensive, Young Master? We promise to follow your lead… once we see it’s safe.”

“Don’t stand there and preach to us, Sawyer. We all know how this game is played. Someone has to be the sacrificial lamb. Why shouldn’t it be you?”

“We aren’t fools,” the heavy-set man sneered. “Unless you’re willing to be the vanguard and take the heavy losses, we aren’t moving a muscle.”

“And speaking of assets,” a woman in a sharp suit added, “hasn’t your father sent the transport machinery for the heavy Defense Towers yet? Without those, our hands are tied.”

“I also heard you have a prototype kinetic converter,” a man whispered greedily. “Share that tech with us, and maybe we’ll reconsider.”

The room devolved into a cacophony of mockery, greed, and cowardice. Their message was clear: You bleed first, or we all burn together.

Sawyer shook with suppressed rage. He wanted to deploy the towers. He wanted to save the city. But the Defense Tower R&D Center was under the strict control of Director Kaine, his father’s loyal dog. Without the Old Master’s direct authorization, Sawyer was just a figurehead.

“Fine,” Sawyer hissed, looking at the faces of the city’s elite. “Remember this moment. If I move first, you follow. If any of you try to stab me in the back or stay behind… I will personally ensure you don’t survive the night.”

A ripple of fake applause and hollow promises answered him.

Sawyer stormed out of the meeting hall, returning to his villa. He found his butler waiting.

“Any news from Lennox?” Sawyer asked, stripping off his coat.

“Not yet, Young Master. But he should have reached Redrock by now.”

“Damn it. What is wrong with the Old Master? He’s never been this indecisive.”

Sawyer paused, a cold dread settling in his stomach.

“Wait. Last time I spoke to him, he mentioned he was feeling unwell. Could it be…”

The butler’s face paled. “Young Master, please don’t speculate. The Master’s health is robust.”

“I hope so,” Sawyer whispered. “But I have a bad feeling. When Lennox gets back, bring him to me immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sawyer went up to the third-floor balcony. From there, he could see the city burning.

It was anarchy. The looting had started. The large guilds were hunkered down in their fortified compounds, ignoring the screams of the civilians outside. The smaller gangs were running wild, raping and pillaging while the world ended. The City Defense Force had dissolved, its members fleeing or joining the looters.

The people wanted to flee, but the underground tunnels—the only safe exit—were locked down by the major families, reserved for their own escape.

Despair hung over the city like a shroud. Everyone knew the end was coming.

Sawyer sighed, turning back to his office to wait for the message that would save them. Or doom them.

At the gates of the Helios Estate in Redrock Bastion.

Lennox was shouting, his face red with exertion and rage.

“Why won’t you let me in?! I have a handwritten letter from the Second Young Master! If the city falls because of your delay, can you afford the price?”

The two guards, clad in high-tech exoskeleton armor, didn’t budge.

“Orders are absolute,” one guard droned. “The Master is in isolation. No visitors. Wait outside.”

“Bullshit!” Lennox screamed. “The Sprawl is dying! The Syndicate’s assets are about to be wiped out! Don’t you care about the Second Young Master?”

“So noisy,” a voice drifted down from the balcony above.

Lennox looked up. A man in a pristine white suit was leaning over the railing, swirling a glass of amber liquid. It was Slade, the Eldest Scion.

“You’re Sawyer’s lapdog, aren’t you? Lennox, was it?”

Lennox’s eyes lit up with desperate hope. “Young Master Slade! Please, let me see the Old Master! It’s urgent!”

Slade took a slow sip of his drink. “Ah, I’m afraid that’s impossible. You won’t be seeing him today. Or ever again, really.”

Lennox froze. “What? Why? Where is he?”

Slade’s expression darkened instantly. “Watch your tone, dog. Since when do servants question the movements of the patriarch?”

Lennox swallowed hard, realizing his mistake. “I apologize. It’s just… the Defense Towers in The Sprawl are locked. We need his authorization code to activate them. Tier 3 spiders have breached the perimeter. If we don’t activate the heavy defenses, The Sprawl is lost!”

Slade chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. He turned his gaze toward the horizon, where massive construction cranes were erecting a new, colossal wall around Redrock Bastion.

“The Sprawl… is obsolete.”

“What?”

“It served its purpose,” Slade said casually. “It was a nice buffer zone. A meat shield to attract the swarm while we fortified Redrock. But now?” He pointed to the new mega-wall. “We have this. We don’t need The Sprawl to buy time anymore.”

Lennox stared at him, horror dawning. “You… you’re abandoning the city? We held the line for you! We bled for you! And you’re just going to let everyone die?”

“Stop being dramatic, Lennox. It’s just business. Accept reality.”

Slade finished his drink and set the glass on the railing.

“Go back and tell my little brother to stop playing hero. The Sprawl is a sunk cost. If he wants to live, he can come home. If he stays…” Slade shrugged.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

Slade reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a thick, wax-sealed envelope. He tossed it over the railing. It fluttered down, landing in the dirt at Lennox’s feet.

“Give this to him.”

Lennox picked it up with trembling hands. On the front, written in elegant calligraphy, were two words:

“The Will”