I was supposed to be working on my thesis proposal. Dr. Patel had sent me three increasingly concerned emails about my timeline. But there I was at 2 AM, hunched over my laptop with Tower's Price playing through my headphones, telling myself "just one more chapter" for the fifth time. This is the LitRPG problem, folks. Once you're invested in a progression system, you NEED to see the numbers go up.
And look, this series delivers on that front. Morgan and his raid group pushing past the third floor of the Tower of Power—floors nobody has ever returned from—scratches that exact itch my D&D-addled brain craves.
The Raid Group Energy Is Real
Ivan Kal gets something that a lot of LitRPG authors miss: the found family dynamic matters as much as the stat progression. Morgan's crew has been through it by this point in the series. They've lost people. They've grown together. And when they're facing down whatever nightmares the Tower throws at them, you actually care whether they make it. The Great Lord—god with a little g, love that distinction—has basically built this world as his personal experiment, and our party is determined to beat his game.
The world-building here isn't Sanderson-level intricate, but it's solid. Game-like rules governing reality, a Tower that gets progressively more dangerous, mysterious threats that "don't even belong there"—it's the kind of setup that makes you want to theorize with your D&D group about what's actually going on. My buddy Marcus would absolutely spend three hours debating what the Tower's true purpose is instead of actually playing our campaign.
Ryan Burke: Energetic But Sometimes Too Energetic
Okay, so here's where opinions get divided, and honestly? I'm somewhere in the middle. Burke has great cadence—the pacing of his delivery matches the tension of raid encounters really well. When the action kicks in, he kicks with it. His energy sells the stakes.
But—and this is a real but—some of his character voices veer into melodrama territory. Like, we're already in a high-stakes fantasy world, my guy. You don't need to push EVERY villain voice to eleven. And he talks fast. Really fast sometimes. I found myself rewinding a few sections because he'd blown through important dialogue like he was being paid by the word rather than the hour.
The beginning especially felt rushed. I was still getting my bearings in the story and Burke was already sprinting ahead. If you're new to the series, this might be disorienting. If you've been following Morgan's journey, you'll adjust faster.
The Progression Hits Different When You're Invested
Seven and a half hours is a reasonable commitment for a LitRPG, and the pacing—once you get past that rushed opening—finds its rhythm. The Tower floors provide natural structure for escalating challenges, and Kal doesn't waste time on filler. Every floor matters. Every encounter pushes the group closer to either breakthrough or breakdown.
There's violence, language, and some spicy content, so heads up if you're listening around other people. I nearly forgot I had my headphones unplugged during one scene and had to frantically mute before my roommate heard something he definitely didn't need to hear.
Who Should Climb This Tower (And Who Should Stay on the Ground Floor)
If you're already invested in the Tower of Power series, this is a no-brainer. The narration is consistent with previous books, and Morgan's journey continues in satisfying ways. If you love LitRPG with actual character development—not just number-crunching—you'll find something here.
Skip it if: you need a narrator who takes their time, you're looking for a standalone entry point (this is NOT that), or info-dumps about game mechanics make you want to throw your phone. But if that last thing bothers you, I have questions about why you're reading LitRPG in the first place.
Roll for Initiative on This One
Look, did this book make me miss another deadline? Yes. Do I regret it? Mostly no. Burke's narration has its quirks—the dramatic voices and speed-talking are real issues for some listeners—but the story itself delivers on the LitRPG promise. Progression, stakes, found family, mysterious tower floors that want to kill you. It's comfort food for us fantasy nerds who grew up rolling dice in library back rooms. Timeless: A Drizzt Novel scratches that same nostalgic itch—Salvatore's been feeding us dice-rollers since before I was born.
Not the strongest entry in the series according to some, and I can see their point. But the narration holds steady, and watching this raid group face impossible odds never gets old. My D&D group would absolutely TPK on floor three, but that's why we live vicariously through Morgan.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have approximately seventeen emails from my advisor to ignore while I start the next book.
