Isekai Magus 3: A LitRPG Progression Saga (The Fantasy World of Nordan)

by Han Yang

  Boom!

  The horse shot out of his pen, knocked over Dad, and laughed on his way to the church district.

  Dad, well, he held his hand in front of his face in shock while screaming in pain. His pinky finger was bent in half from him not catching his fall correctly.

  “Heal other,” I said.

  The green magic shifted from me to my father, and the finger snapped back into place.

  “Holy shit!” Dad blurted.

  “Try to keep up,” I said.

  “Damien, you were in his shoes once. Be gentler,” Mom said, and I paused to offer Dad a hand up.

  “Thanks,” he said as he accepted.

  “Good luck, your Grace.” Cecil waved politely.

  “Charlie sucks,” Dad said.

  I chuckled. In the distance, a man shouted, “Hey, you stupid horse, that was my sandwich.”

  “Charlie is a survivor, dad. Out of all the adventuring partners I’ve had, Charlie is the one I want to charge through the lightning storm so his 99 luck stat deflects all the bolts, and I walk through unscathed. Never discount a survivor.”

  “Good job on recovering after a healing. This isn’t Earth. You will get hurt, and it is okay,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m a healer. Now. If you die, you will go to a realm unlike any other. You will get a feel for who is reviving you. Hold on for me until there is no more time. If you can’t, you’re dead forever.”

  “Uh, your mother said we can be revived,” Dad said with concern.

  “You can, but if your orb is stolen, you cannot. Unless the Six are giving you a reset,” I said with a shrug.

  “They are. We get one death revival from a champion or high priestess for us,” Mom said.

  “Alright, we shouldn’t die, but at least we covered our basis,” I said.

  I walked out of the stables, seeing the sun had already crossed over its zenith. Time flew when you were trying to get stuff done. Asha came trotting over from a side road to join us.

  “The troops are gathering and the generic church is ready. Even set to level ten,” Asha said.

  I grunted.

  “It’s cheaper,” Mom said. “But yes, you’re poor. I watched all that get spent, and it even hurt me to see.”

  “Gotta spend money to make money,” Dad said.

  In this case, he had a point. I couldn’t argue with him. I wanted to kick and scream at the fallacy of him suddenly deciding he was an adventurer, but not that investing held merit.

  Deep down, I saw it in his expressions. The no camping, no hunting, and no excursions man I knew as my father was pleading for something to be different with his new life.

  I needed people I trusted going into cities to trade and managing base camps. Even though his magic was vital, I was sure someone could hand cart two stones through, could meld them, and we could return the cart.

  The general church closest to the road held a line of ogres waiting with more arriving every second. The crowd hauled sacks of tools, large hand carts, and even mobile ballista. Most of the ogres were flesh and blood with white hair.

  Since the fighting stopped recently and my ogres were limited in number, Cecil put them back into the living where they would fight smarter and be harder to kill. Hands thumped chests in salute when I walked by, and I strode into the church.

  Jorma and a shrunken Peth waited inside. She curtsied by the fancy war table. “Your Grace.”

  “Activate the options,” I ordered.

  Jorma tapped on the pedestal, and the portal hummed without activation. The weekly timer started and showed 250 at the top. On the right and left side frame of the portal, I noticed interfaces.

  The topography table hummed green, and the scene of the area generated. The map’s scope was huge with a mountain range in the center that stretched most of the map. Cities dotted the range, and they would all be human at that elevation. At least a dozen options rested on the outskirts of the map, but there was no real fall off.

  “We have nothing to trade,” Jorma grunted.

  She assessed correctly to a point. Unless we tried to mine for a week, this was a great trade opportunity. Except we had no fish, no materials, no Zorta, and little to offer besides gold.

  “The gold does us no good sitting in the vaults. This region seems solidly solidified as human. If I had to guess, they venture into the mountains and the lowlands to adventure. If I show up with a team of ogres…” I paused, tapping a foot.

  “Thoughts?” Asha asked.

  “We need resources, and this looks like a trade portal. We have two options. Send in a human regiment with gold, wagons, and a delegation. Or we go up to… here. This valley is big and isolated. It’s really high up, too,” I said.

  Asha bobbed his head in thought. Jorma took the initiative and said, “The valley.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “You have twenty-thousand minions in this city. You would trade our limited gold for processed lumber and tools?” Jorma asked. I nodded mostly because I would trade our gold for items to help our city. “I’m not needed on this mission. Either way, an aerial scout is not going to help. I suggest having a dwarven scout with ore detection magic take my place. Go in, kill off the local wildlife, and cleanse the area.”

  “Harsh,” Mom said. “Not very nice to the locals.”

  “If they show up, we retreat,” Asha said.

  I thumbed the door for Jorma. “Find me a replacement then set Peth on fishing duties.”

  “She will love that, thank you, your Grace,” Jorma said with a proper bow.

  When she left, I opened the portal to the upper valley. A bright yellow glow flared in the stone church, and the powerful magic crackled.

  My father cleared his throat and asked, “You take advice from a teenager?”

  Asha smirked. “She’s not a teenager, and Damien never intended to trade. He is always testing her and correcting her when she is wrong. You will learn that your son has studied, experienced, and learned what it takes to be a leader. We bait these conversations while already having a consensus.”

  “Normally, not always,” I said. “Zorta rules human kingdoms, not gold. Gold goes further in Ostriva cities. I won’t trade at a bad rate and even if these humans were good to trade with, why pay for what I can take.”

  “How many Ostriva Points do you have?” Mom asked.

  “Uh… it was thirty million or so. I’ve killed a lot of men and women who wanted to kill me. Each of their deaths counts against my totals. However, Bell fixed that,” I said.

  My father glanced between me and my mother, uncertain of how to respond. An elite ogre squad walked into the church with large crossbows in the back and immense shields in the front. The biggest of the bunch led the way in heavy armor, and a goblin ogre shielding mage followed in his wake.

  The portal swallowed the minion, and the counter dialed down to 248. I waited patiently, watching at least twenty ogres enter to secure our landing spot.

  The left control station on the portal ping green. I held a hand up to the other ogres who were waiting to cross.

  You have accessed the Portal Vault Return Unit. Would you like to check the inventory? (YES) - (NO) - Yes selected.

  Inventory

  Timber: .014

  Vegetation: .0005

  Stone: .03

  I saw a hundred boxes in the display, only the top three indicating items. The stone’s opacity increased, and it jumped to .07.

  I figured it out pretty quickly.

  The ogres were clearing a landing zone. Instead of raw items piling up in the church they were stacking into the inventory. A notification caught my attention.

  New item: Message. Remove (YES) - (NO) - Yes selected.

  A rock tumbled out of the portal and danced across the stone floor. When I plucked the rock off the ground, it felt cold. I unwrapped the string and unfolded the paper.

  Snowing. Please bring winter gear. Unable to know the danger level due to the storm.

  I groa
ned. “Listen up! It’s snowing on the other side. Hey, Charlie, where you… Damn horse. Ogres outside, get winter weather gear. Those of you in the church, go help clear the ground. Asha, find me a high-level fire mage or two. Tell the dwarven metal scout and the beastmaster to come right through. Oh, and I want you to place someone on this side to monitor the inventory,” I ordered.

  “So there’s snow in the mountains?” Asha asked and I nodded. “Not the worst to prepare for with all our winter gear still around.”

  His positive tone caused me to smile.

  “I agree. Make it happen. I’ll be with my minions,” I said and walked into the portal to start a week-long adventure.

  CHAPTER 4

  Utri Valley

  I hustled away from the portal, seeing the ogres pausing as new troops arrived behind me. Flurries of snow swirled in a mild wind, causing me to squint while trying to locate a good spot to stay out of the way.

  My short jog ended at the base of a fifty-foot tall pine. Additional ogres arrived with massive two ogre saws.

  The tools were immediately put to use and the crack of a tree cascading down echoed over the area. The elite squad transitioned from working to guarding as more and more ogres arrived.

  I huddled in the large tree’s alcove, waving my confused parents over.

  “What are we doing?” Dad asked.

  “Adventuring,” I said.

  “Oh,” he replied. “This is it?”

  “Pretty much. Adventuring is sitting in a tent or wagon the majority of the time. There’s always someone to kill or wanting to kill you if you give it enough time,” I said.

  Mom grumbled about missing fire while a jarring thud from a larger falling tree reverberated through my bones. The instant the tree bounced on the snow covered forest floor, a half dozen jenix skeleton cats combed the branches. The shrieks and shrill cries told me they had found their prey.

  A confused goblin arrived from the portal, trying to figure out where he was needed. The small greenskin wore a winter jacket and thick hide boots. I waved him over when he peered in our direction.

  The cats finished cleaning the tree, and into the portal it went.

  The sound of the metal saws ripping through trees grew louder and repeated thuds landed. The jenix cats dropped three squirrels and a chipmunk. Or maybe it was a baby squirrel, the body was mangled. They didn’t stick around for praise, immediately going back to work.

  Mom chanted and I felt her power wash over the area.

  “What was that?” Dad asked.

  “Mom is a champion, she will exude her connection magic to tame these squirrels,” I said. “They won’t be able to always bring the animals to us as we ramp up clearing. For now, if an orb is available ingest it. Once you hit a decent level we will shift to raise the others.”

  “Yup, I was able to tame them all but now they need a beast revival. However, I need the Zorta to reach level two,” Mom said and released her spell. A second later, the orbs vanished. “Better, this is going to take a while. I don’t miss leveling.”

  “I spent our life savings on a Tesla and Tesla Solar panels. Literally every penny we had. Damien, you are clear-cutting an old growth forest and you’re smiling from harvesting squirrels,” Dad said unhappily with a shiver. “Also, screw the snow.”

  The goblin arrived with me ignoring Dad. “Beastmaster?” I asked.

  “Yes, my King. Orri’s the name.”

  “What level are you and how many beasts can you tame?” I asked.

  “Level one, my King. I can control up to five small herbivores and that is it. I do not know what level two unlocks,” Orri said. “I know that eventually I can swap to carnivores, but no idea when.”

  “Understood. Welcome to the team. We’re going to huddle out of the way. The ogres need to do their thing, and right now, we’re useless. If we end up getting attacked be ready to retreat, your job is to throw the dead orbless animals into the portal unless told otherwise. You will stick close to Lady Clare and heed her commands unless I order otherwise,” I said.

  “Orri understands.”

  The goblin picked up the four dead animals. Dad went to help, and I held him back. Additional thuds reverberated through the area and accumulated snow sprinkled down from the tree limbs.

  “We need to move,” I said, seeing another crew of ogres coming for our tree.

  I kept low, running until I stood by the portal. A pack of waroni arrived, and I ordered them to kill everything that wasn’t Tribe Moonguard - minus Mom.

  The pack leader cocked their skeletal head back and howled out a silent cry before darting into the woods.

  Jenix cats continued to deliver small critters to Mom’s feet. As additional ogres arrived, the clear cutting began in earnest. I rocked on my feet, hating the cold but dealing with it while Mom continued to level.

  After an hour, my shivering Dad said, “How much Zorta?”

  “Uh, only a few whole Zorta, which isn’t that much, but this is just an hour,” Mom said with a shrug. “We used to walk miles to find mythical beasts to slay, and often the three gob - goats would be worth less than the hundred critters.”

  “It is okay, Lady Clare. I know what my species is. The bottom and worthless. Only in Tribe Moonguard are we able to shine,” Orri said.

  “And shine they do. I owe everything to my goblins,” I said proudly.

  Mom smiled down at the goblin before brushing the snow off Dad’s shoulder. “I’ll need thousands. The city needs hundreds of thousands. Exploiting a forest like this is how those numbers happen. Rest easy knowing that when this portal vanishes, the gods will rebuild this area.”

  That wasn’t exactly true, but I didn’t say otherwise because I had learned to not care too much about the aftereffects of our efforts. Building siege engines, furniture, ships, and more for a city simply required a lot of trees.

  An ogre approached, each step quaking the snowy ground. I watched the billowing puffs of snow dustings rise from his walk.

  “We’re ready for the camp to be established,” he said in a deep baritone voice.

  I went to the right side of the portal, navigated the menu, and clicked on a large winter tent. The ogre grabbed the item as soon as it ejected out of the portal. I selected a half dozen more, and the ogres went from clearing to erecting tents.

  A korb arrived, wearing red robes and carrying a staff. Her back was laden with a heavy rucksack, and she walked towards me right away.

  “I’m Denevia, the fire mage for this mission,” she said.

  “Excellent. Go follow that ogre and clear the ground of frost, save mana for a fire or two,” I said.

  “I’m only a level six, my King. I would recommend just fires for now. I have no idea how wet the wood is,” Denevia said.

  I nodded to let her know that was fine. “Everyone else collect firewood while I eject our supplies,” I ordered.

  A dozen taps on the screen later, the portal’s exit was stacked high with canvas, trunks, and defensive fortifications. The high pile would keep the ogres busy.

  I walked to the fallen or broken branches that littered the top of the snow from recently felled trees. The others joined me, and after a half hour, a tall pile towered next to a fire pit. Ogres cut stumps for us to sit on and even prepared a wood chopping station.

  The jenix cats slowed on their harvests as the forest clearing stopped. My mind drifted to thoughts that the valley may be void of life. The waroni and ogre hunting teams should have attracted the attention of the locals - if there were any.

  I decided to check my stats to ensure I hadn’t lost any minions while we collected wood.

  Name: Damien Moonguard

  Race: Human

  Affiliation: Neutral

  Zorta: 8787.001

  Shared Zorta: 8787.001

  Nordan Score: 0

  Ostriva Score: 0

  Location: Utri Valley

  Magic Type: Healer

  Healer Level: 16

  Magic Type 2: Necr
omancer

  Necromancy Level: 10

  Necromancer Minions: 21,000/21,000

  Necromancer General Level: 4

  Necromancer General Mana: 225/225

  Shared Mana: 400

  Necromancer General Permissions: All

  Fighting Level: Decent

  Mana: 500/500

  Mana Recharge: 14

  Strength: 12

  Stamina: 12

  Dexterity: 12

  Constitution: 18

  Willpower: 18

  Cultivation: 40

  Intelligence: 40

  Wisdom: 40

  Charisma: 30

  Tracking: 13

  Endurance: 10

  Perception: 21

  Burst: 10

  Reflex: 10

  Healing: 15

  Melee Combat: 15

  Aim: 6

  Hunger: 6

  Thirst: 1

  Aging: 59 years until death.

  The fire roared to life, and I grunted at the fact nothing had changed. Dad plopped down onto the stump beside me with a happy sigh.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Ya, I’m fine. The map had this valley seem so small, but it clearly is bigger than it appeared,” I said.

  “So…” he hesitated. “When do we do something?”

  “Maybe soon, or we may sit here the whole time. Either Cecil or I need to be here so the risk is on the undead. I only have minimal captains and generals I trust, and they’re back at home ensuring the city is defended.

  “There is additional risk here, and if my minions die, well, they’re replaceable. Plus the ogres just do so much more in an hour than a goblin can. Since we may end up fighting far from the portal, I am here. However, we just need the raw supplies: dirt, trees, rocks, and such. Anything else is a bonus and will be handled by the minions, not you.”

  “You let them do all your work for you?” Dad asked with a curious tone while zoning out.

  It was easy to get lost in watching the ogres work tirelessly. I nodded. “The ogres handle the tents quicker than I can. Orri is getting bloody no matter what, and I can’t chop down a tree as quick as an ogre. I get feeling useless, Dad. I do. And -”

  The waroni pack arrived from out of the snow. Each of them carried an ant-demon body.

  “Antia,” Mom exclaimed. “Yes!” Whoosh. “Four Zorta per. Hell yes!”