Spell weaver a litrpg ad.., p.1
Spell Weaver: A LitRPG Adventure, page 1
SPELL WEAVER
©2025 OVERXELOUS
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CONTENTS
1. Monotony
2. Firebolt
3. Rift Detected
4. Slime
5. Primordial Will
6. Mana Core
7. Mana Shaping
8. Recruiter & Registration
9. Not a Guild Member
10. Rift on the Outskirts
11. Level Up
12. Quest Rewards
13. No More Lies
14. Best Friend
15. VossBoss
16. Wand Training
17. Melee
18. Return to Lord Sterling
19. A Plan Forward
20. Bonded Companion
21. Valtherion
22. Developing Together
23. Ritual Magic
24. Celestial Sect War
25. God, Is That You?
26. Do You Accept
27. Run Like Hell
28. Mana Spinners
29. Ritualist
30. Consumable
31. Bonds
32. The Firstborn Threat
33. Alone in the Shadows
34. Ill-Gotten Gains
35. According to Plan
36. The Best Laid Plans
37. An Expected Capture
38. Rage
39. Savior
40. A Taste of Power
41. Assessment
42. Foundations and Tensions
43. Adapting
44. Progression
45. Unstructured Magic
46. Challenges Mount
47. Bonding
48. Crisis
49. Planning the Escape
50. The Eve of Battle
51. The Great Escape
52. Home Stretch
53. Reunion
54. Small Comforts
55. Decompress
56. Awakened Event
57. Sure. Let’s Talk
58. The New Alex
59. Unbound
60. Gear & Christmas Cheer
Thank you for reading Spell Weaver
Groups
LitRPG
To my best friend, Chase, who knows the chapters that were left unwritten… or, uh, rewritten. Thanks for all your help and the countless hours of “talking story stuff.”
1
MONOTONY
Alex’s alarm went off. As he rolled over to grab his phone from the nightstand, he accidentally knocked his headphones to the floor.
Fuck.
His hand flailed around, trying to find the button to snooze his phone.
Mmm, five more minutes.
Groaning, Alex squinted against the sunlight coming through his curtains before rolling over and pulling his covers up over his head.
After a couple more snoozes, Alex realized he’d have to drive and be late if he didn’t get up quickly. He forced himself up and searched for the comfortable slides beside his bed.
His own art and inspirational quotes pinned to the walls seemed to mock him: “Embrace the chaos,” “Creativity takes courage.”
Easier said than done.
Coffee. I need coffee.
He pressed a few buttons on his coffee machine, and soon, the bitter aroma filled his small kitchen. Leaning against the counter while waiting for it to brew, he checked his phone. A new text from his mom reminded him about the family dinner that evening, and just the thought of it threatened to bring on an early migraine.
It was another obligatory family gathering where he’d be expected to “discuss his future plans.” He grimaced, sipped the fresh coffee, and welcomed the heat as a pleasant distraction.
Two hours later, Alex walked into his office. He ignored most of his surroundings as he passed through the downstairs lobby and into the elevator.
As soon as he stepped onto the work floor, he heard, “Alex! Just the man I need. Team meeting, now.”
His manager, Mr. Henderson, stood by the conference room wearing his usual mask of professional urgency. Alex had time to drop his bag at his desk before being ushered into the room. The meeting was a blur of marketing jargon, and his colleagues, fueled by coffee and a new project, fired off ideas at a dizzying pace.
There were times Alex struggled to keep up. His mind would latch onto a single detail, but just as he was about to process it, someone would move on to the next topic. He felt the pressure to maintain their pace but often fell behind.
Don’t fixate. Just be a bit more flexible. I can keep up if they can.
He repeated the phrase over and over during the downtime between one of the presentations. Alex knew he tended to beat himself up about these things, so it was unsurprising for him to hear his parents’ voices drown out the reassuring mantra Sarah had taught him.
“We did everything we could to present you and your brother with these opportunities. It’s up to you to capitalize on that. Don’t let it go to waste just because you find it troublesome.”
After the meeting ended, Alex retreated to his desk. He unlocked his computer only to find the Teams Task page taunting him from the screen.
Task: Up Next: Alex Moore - Ad Campaign Pitch Deadline & Slide Deck (Due Friday 11/22)
Several unproductive minutes went by as he tapped his pen on the space bar of his keyboard.
I’ll have a brilliant idea any minute now…
Ugh.
Nope. Nothing.
His gaze fell on the notepad next to his keyboard. Without thinking, Alex spun the pen in his hand and started to doodle.
Lines flowed onto the page, intricate patterns forming under his hand. A swirling vortex here, a labyrinth of interconnected lines there. It was a familiar comfort, a way to find order in the chaos. The repeated, consistent movements of the pen in evenly spaced lines—
“Lost in your little world again, Mr. Moore?”
Mr. Henderson’s voice broke his concentration. Alex flinched and quickly closed the notepad, feeling color rise in his cheeks as he kept his brows from coming together. Henderson’s expression showed disapproval, and Alex fought down the urge to defend himself.
“Deadlines, Alex. Remember? We’re counting on you.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” Alex said while lowering his head slightly.
Henderson shook his head before continuing down the open space toward the next desk.
Fuck.
Alex’s head lolled back in defeat. He looked up at the bright lights, forcing his eyes to stay open for a few seconds before closing them and seeing bright purple-and-yellow outlines where the lights were.
As he straightened in his chair, Mark caught his eye from across the office. His large friend raised an eyebrow when they made eye contact. Alex shook his head in answer before returning his attention to the creative block that always came with forced projects.
A few unproductive hours later, Alex met up with Mark in the office break room for lunch.
Alex was a bit above average height at 5’11” and was proud of the fact that he was a few inches taller than his older brother. Mark, on the other hand, made both of them look short. Mark was one of those people who was awfully close to needing to duck when walking through doorways. He was a solid four inches over six feet, and his Polish ancestry came through strong in his brown hair and blue eyes.
“So, you doing anything exciting tonight?”
“Not really. Just dinner with the folks.” Alex picked up half of his turkey wrap.
“Ah, the weekly inquisition?” Mark teased, knowing how much these dinners drained his friend.
His parents meant well, but their constant comparisons to his brother and ability to make any of his accomplishments
“Well, at least they feed you, right?”
“True.”
Lunch was the same as it had been in recent weeks. They exchanged some banter before Alex flipped on his tablet and passed a headphone to Mark so they could listen to the latest news.
The familiar homepage of The Nexus Hub website greeted them.
The Rifts had become a morbid fascination of theirs. The fact that they could tear through reality and house creatures of myth and magic was terrifying and completely outside the realm of what everyone thought was possible. Some people saw it as an opportunity and were excited to adventure. Some people said it was the end of the world.
Alex felt it was more accurate to call it the end of the world as they knew it.
I can’t imagine something so drastic that humanity couldn’t overcome it… even if it is as crazy as all of this.
They scrolled through the latest reports.
People had disappeared into a Rift in Nevada and never returned. They left behind no trace at all. There was a Rift in Tokyo that had been sealed off but had eventually unleashed a horde of grotesque insect-like creatures. The death toll from that incident was still climbing.
What would it be like? To step through one of those Rifts and face the unknown. To fight for something more.
The powers people supposedly gained from surviving the Rift were even more intriguing to Alex. The Nexus Hub website had started as a bit of a joke, poking fun at the early “superpower-like” reports. However, as weeks passed, it became the fastest and most reliable source of gossip for Rift reports, updates, and information on the System.
Alex almost laughed.
What am I thinking? I’m a graphic designer who’s stuck in a dead-end job. My life at the moment consists of drowning in deadlines and managing expectations.
All too soon, lunch was ending. They both stood to dump their lunch trash and bumped fists before returning to their workstations.
The rest of the day passed in a blur, and before he knew it, Alex had changed and was on his way to his parents’ house.
“Alex! You’re a sight for sore eyes,” his mom said. Her voice was laced with that familiar brand of concern she always greeted guests with.
“Hey, Mom.” He offered a tired smile while leaning in for the obligatory hug.
His dad appeared behind her with a wide grin. “Look who decided to grace us with his presence.” He pulled Alex into a bear hug. “So, how’s work been?”
Jesus, that didn’t take long.
“Eh, nothing really new to report,” Alex said as he sat in his normal spot on the couch and accepted the glass of tea his mom handed him.
The familiar scent of pot roast wafted from the kitchen. A few minutes later, the front door opened, and Jake strode in, wearing his usual confident smile and a crisp business suit. After exchanging quick greetings, they all settled in as it was announced that food was ready.
“Your father had a rough day at the firm,” Mom said as they sat around the table.
“One of those clients,” his father said. He sighed as he sat down in the chair at the head of the table. “You know the type.”
Alex nodded, though he didn’t really know the type. His experience with high-powered clients began and ended with approving ad font sizes.
The conversation flowed around him. The usual stuff: complaints about traffic, updates on Aunt Carol’s hip replacement, and the latest Maplewood, New Jersey gossip.
He nodded at the appropriate times and chuckled at his dad’s jokes. He knew how to play the part. The evening continued to pass, and Alex did his best to be mindful of the things that would set his mother off on a tangent.
They made it through most of the dinner before the dreaded conversation was brought up oh-so-casually.
“So, Alex,” his mom began, her voice carefully neutral. “Tell me more about how things are at work.”
He forced a smile. “They’re busy, as always. We just landed a big account, actually.”
“That’s wonderful, dear.” Her smile was a touch too wide as she tapped his dad’s arm. “But you’re still working on that—what was it… social media campaign?”
“Yes, Mom. Still working on it.”
Why does it always come back to this?
“It’s just…” she continued, her eyes darting toward her husband, seeking backup. “Well, your father and I were just discussing…”
Alex’s father cleared his throat, and his brow creased slightly. “We just want what’s best for you, son.”
Fuck. There it is.
“And what’s best for me is…?”
“Stability,” his mom interjected. “A career with a bit more of a path forward. Not just some… artistic pursuit.”
The judgment hung in the air. Alex could feel his face flushing.
He pushed the food around on his plate, the roast suddenly looking unappetizing. A part of him wanted to speak up about his choices, but the words wouldn’t come. He felt the heat rising in his cheeks.
“Alex?” His mom’s tone was laced with genuine concern.
He glanced up to see her look of consternation. His eyes flicked toward his dad, but he was pointedly avoiding eye contact.
This is so awkward. Why do we keep doing this?
The silence stretched, each tick of the dining room clock sounding louder than the last.
Say something, Alex. Anything. Stick up for yourself. Tell them you don’t like your job, but at least you picked it. Tell them you have a plan. Or at least a goal…
“So, Alex,” Jake said. His voice carried its normal carefree lilt and easy smile. “Jamie told me you and Mark are still slaying dragons in your free time.”
Is he being serious right now?
“Jake!” Mom hissed, her eyes flashing a warning. “Don’t be ridiculous. Alex gave up such childish fantasies years ago.”
“Do we need to discuss your future career plan, too?” their dad said in a mock, threatening tone.
“What, me?” Jake raised his hands, feigning innocence. “No need to worry about me; I just got a promotion last month. My boss says that they’re fast-tracking me. Also, who cares if Alex plays video games still? We know Alex is the dreamer of the family.”
Alex’s cheeks burned, a wave of shame washing over him. Something about the way Jake casually dismissed his hobbies or friends with humor annoyed him to no end.
“Jake’s right, Alex,” his dad said. “There’s nothing wrong with having a passion. You know that we love your art. Your mother and I just want you to be realistic. You have a stable income right now. We just want to make sure that you’re thinking about what comes next.”
Of course, he’s right, Dad. In your eyes, Jake can do no wrong.
Alex looked Jake in the eyes.
Does he even realize how big of an asshole he is?
Jake looked back, smiling as he took a big bite of his dinner roll, then looked away with an exaggerated innocence, acting as if he had no idea what was happening. While things had always been competitive between the two, Alex felt that things had become a bit more intentional as they reached adulthood.
They made eye contact again, and Jake winked at him.
Dick.
A high-pitched tone cut through the tension, and all eyes turned toward the living room. The TV blared the tone from the emergency broadcast system.
“I’m not that hungry anyway,” Alex mumbled as he pushed his chair back from the table. “I’ll go see what’s going on.”
Anything to escape this conversation.
The news anchor’s face was the epitome of concern, and words like “emergency announcement” and “government initiative” flashed across the bottom of the screen.
“…the Hunters Association will be responsible for the registration and regulation of all individuals with abilities related to the Rifts,” the anchor said. “The government assures citizens that this is a precautionary measure, aimed at ensuring public safety and…”
“Hunters Association?” his mom scoffed. Her voice was thick with disbelief. “What are they going to hunt? Unicorns?”
“Turn that off, Alex,” his dad ordered. “It’s all a load of crap.”
“Dad—”
“It’s propaganda, pure and simple,” he said. The older man waved his hand dismissively at the screen. “They’re trying to scare us, distract us from the real issues. The elections are only a year away, remember?”
