Isekai Magus: A LitRPG Progression Saga

by Han Yang

  I grunted and asked, “Your offer?”

  “The cat will get you a hundred Zorta,” he said, and I barely held in my surprise. The cat could only be worth a Z or two if slaughtered and cultivated.

  “Told you,” Asha snickered.

  “Yes, they’re little devils, and the only reason it is being calm is because, well, look,” Oskatriver said, pointing to the feral cat gnawing on the skeletal arm of the centaur. “You fight him. Five hundred Zorta for the centaur to fight as well.”

  I almost blurted 'deal’ when Asha laughed. “Please meet us halfway at least. It would be unbecoming to trick my employer so badly.”

  “I could meet you at nine hundred, but I won’t. I’m not in the mood. Six fifty for the cat and the centaur,” the minotaur stopped, looming over me. When Asha went to talk, the minotaur flicked him in the forehead. “That’s my offer for you. Take it or leave it.”

  “I’ll accept, but I’ll want more next time,” I said.

  Oskatriver turned to Asha and said, “That is how business is done.”

  Asha wisely stayed silent, and we followed the minotaur into the conquered section of town. From the tops of buildings, inside towers, and at intersections, a common theme repeated itself. Guards carried big crossbows to ensure the conquered stayed compliant.

  I glanced down, seeing dried muck that occasionally exposed cobblestones. Hovels was an appropriate way to describe what I saw. Wooden structures with thatch roofing. Twine bound the vertical logs into one wall with mud closing gaps. Doorways were left open, and the doors were without hinges, merely resting against a wall.

  The mostly empty streets lacked vendors, and I saw only a few minotaurs in this section wearing armor. The guards eyed us and fixated on Serriavian. If I had to guess, seeing a skeletal minion was rare for them.

  I played the situation the best I could, striding confidently beside a minotaur and an undead centaur. A few thoughts raced through my mind while we walked through the city toward a stone wall in the distance.

  I happened to be in a minotaur town that was evil while still being civilized. I passed a well with a line of slaves and a guard picking his snout in boredom. A turn revealed a set of gallows in a central intersection.

  A burn pit wafted out nasty stenches that threatened to turn my stomach. And yet, all this felt normal now. As if my mind forgot I needed to cope when seeing a goblin tossing shit into a fire pit.

  The goblin’s smooth skin held strips like a jungle cat. The olive green had sections of horizontal blacks and the sight amused me that they weren’t bright green with boils.

  The other thought bouncing around in my mind was, screw Serriavian. I tried to be nice, I did, but at the same time, he was literally sent to kill me. Even if we were on the verge of a friendly minion master relationship, I needed Z, and badly enough to toss him into an arena to die.

  “Hey, so when he dies, and I promise he’ll fight well, I’ll hit mana exhaustion. I would assume there are assurances to my safety while I need a moment to recover,” I said.

  Oskatriver shrugged and said, “You’re not a citizen. Even though you’re here to trade, you do so at your own risk. Normally, you would get a trader’s necklace at the first guard point, but you're with me. Still, if a minotress deems you’ve eyed her figure for too long and decides to crush your skull, it is within her right.”

  “Ah yea, well, is there an inn for me to watch the events from?” I asked.

  “Smart, but again, you’re with me. I want to see what your skeleton can do,” Oskatriver said. “If it does well, and I let you die, you’ll never come back.”

  “So, out of curiosity, besides arena competitors, what else do you value?” I asked.

  “I knew I liked you,” the minotaur said with a snort and a head shake, as if teasing me. “Me, books. Ladies, silk. Metal for weapons. Silk is the lightest though and -”

  He paused when I pulled out the text about the gods.

  His eyes followed the small, leather-bound book with hunger.

  “Content?” he asked.

  “The thousand gods humanity believes in or have discovered, their boons roughly transcribed, and miracles since the cataclysm. It's a hasty transcription,” I said, handing him the book. “I found a few errors. Surprised there’s no duplication magic.”

  “Ah, the crux of the issue of literacy, spreading the good word. No, it requires time, something I have infinite amounts of. I have this copy, stolen from a raided caravan up north. Fifty Zorta, and I promise most will go for more,” he said.

  “I accept, mainly because my father had a saying. Business is about partnerships and forming them is the hardest aspect. You’ve now given me a true purpose to return to your fine home besides to win in its arena,” I said.

  He roared in laughter so loud the guards around us gave us second glances.

  He patted my shoulder roughly, and I stumbled in our walk. The minotaur said, “Smart human, that father of yours. Getting through the valley is not going to be easy, and no, a minotaur won’t guide you. Buy a korb and have them help you through their turf, then turn them into a minion after, or before.”

  Asha knew I would be curious and said, “A korb is a four-armed orc. Fierce and dumb. Easily tricked in battle. However, with you as his master, the minion will act based on his level.”

  We stopped short of a stone wall. “Inside there is an arena and a market. Tell me, why are you so unfamiliar with our ways?” the minotaur shot a warning gaze to Asha.

  “It's a fair question. I obviously speak flawless Ostrivian as a human, without the high intellect of an elva. I also have ostrivian magic. I awoke after the great cataclysm in a haze and not in Ostrivian lands. I awoke in a human dungeon. Maybe the dungeon was my lair at home, and I was so deep underground the spell affected me.

  “I found myself missing memories and very alone. Torture yielded little to my captors or to my fractured mind. I escaped, and this elva accepted coins to help me get north. I’m on a fool's errand to become a master of an old dwarven hold. Eventually, I’ll rebuild my army and attack the humans,” I said.

  “Bunch of half-truths, but I can work with it. In exchange, next time you come, I want books from the dwarves,” he said greedily.

  “Ah, I do love a good book myself. Any specific requests?” I asked.

  This pleased him, and we went through one of two tall stone walls.

  Oskatriver said, “Old texts that predate the great transition.” The guards ignored us as we crossed the threshold. “You're entering the middle zone. This is our arena and market section of the city with its own fortifications to prevent escapes and thieving. Do not leer, please. I really desire books to the point I’ll hide you from the others at a cost most would not allocate.”

  “Ah, okay,” I said, not fully understanding what he meant, but I certainly didn’t want to fight a ten-foot tall minotaur female with thighs bigger than my waist.

  Once inside this new section, the city instantly transformed into stone and everything was clean. Not shiny, but nice. Also, big minotaur boobs were flopping all over the place as the first exposed females went about their day. Silk was rare, and cloth was common. The status symbol of exquisite silk went with gems and golden horn caps.

  Males wore close to what Oskatriver did, mainly a kilt with straps to hold the garment up. Those straps attached all sorts of small one-handed weapons, and massive battleaxes were slung over some backs while others avoided big weapons.

  On the right side of the street, a big market opened up, selling fruit, trinkets, jewelry, clothing, slaves, and more. The mix of vendor booths had a chaotic organization to them. Each booth had a minotaur operating the place and guards patrolled among the shoppers. I saw other species being closely watched.

  I shifted to see the road keep going until it reached a slightly raised portcullis with thirty minotaurs ensuring only their kind entered and exited the upper city.

  On the left, a square structure of stone dwarfed even the surrounding
walls. A loud cheering erupted from the interior, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what the inside contained.

  Oskatriver led us left, down a side alley and away from the main entrance. When I saw another alley without squatters, it dawned on me. A minotaur city clamped down on freeloaders no differently than humans.

  The mere fact they let me into their city changed my outlook on the species. Two minotaurs burst out a side exit ahead of us, breaking my reflections.

  “What a weaklin’, arena tis needin’ fresh blood,” the bigger one said.

  “Quit yer yappin, we’re going to war this -” the second minotaur saw our approach and halted his words.

  While these two were behemoths, Oskatriver stood a head taller than them both. They immediately moved out of our way with heads hung low.

  “A ‘mancer, by Mezonia’s golden tits,” the first one said.

  Oskatriver ignored them both.

  We turned into a mixed entrance, the tunnel forking in a Y. We went right, walking down a slope. A half dozen minotaurs rested at the bottom of the hall, guarding large metallic doors.

  A massive female minotaur stood when we entered. The tabletop she left was filled with paperwork. She appeared in her prime, her face without scars. Heavy armor covered her body. A lean figure complemented a fierce gaze that spoke of anger and something even more worrisome - cunning.

  I cued in that minotaurs were again similar to humans; idiots, intellectuals, and commoners abounded.

  “A jenix cat,” she said. “I’m not sure how I’ll use it as it seems attached at the moment.”

  She tossed both her meaty, four-fingered hands on her hips.

  “Jeelina, we’re friends, always friends,” Oskatriver said pleasantly, smacking my back hard enough to get me to stumble. Jeelina was not amused, and he continued quickly. “The ‘mancer controls his minion, and the cat is a bonus to drum up interest. He’ll control the fight from safety.”

  “Interesting. Give me a moment. And we both know Os, you picked books over another child,” Jeelina said, returning to her desk. “Surprised to see you out of your office.”

  I tried not to react, but Asha elbowed me with a stern stare.

  I guess I had failed to keep my reaction in check.

  “Amused by our mating problems?” Jeelina asked, digging into her log. I didn’t answer. Luckily, she let it drop, huffing as she studied her papers. “You’re not going in, are you?”

  “You heard our terms, Jee,” Oskatriver said pointedly.

  “Yeah, just… a necromancer in the arena would bring far more to the stands,” the minotauress said with a snort. “Best I can do is the third card before the main event in four hours. Three points. If I slot you now, I can give you a random fight but only a point and a quarter.”

  Oskatriver eyed me, and then her, me, and then her again. “Three points is a lot.”

  “It's a necromancer. He’ll draw a crowd even with just a skeleton horse and a jenix. If you let the youngling build up some attention, I can maybe go four and more if you can add more minions,” Jeelina said.

  A hunger from her eyes hit Oskatriver, telling me what she wanted. The arena master wanted a grand fight. The problem would be that I might suffer greatly.

  “Our deal was the one minion. Give me a moment,” Oskatriver said, leading me a few paces away from Jeelina and her guards. “I can adjust our deal. Clearly, they want to see more.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck and replied, “I’m not here for much more than supplies. While I certainly look forward to one day coming back with higher mana and capable minions, a simple fight is best.”

  “I honor my deals. The arena will persist either way.” Oskatriver turned to Jeelina and said, “The point and a quarter is more than enough, and a great entry for a new competitor.”

  “You are so soft at times, which is why you make such a great father,” she sighed, kicking the chair of one of the smaller female guards. “Take them to the King’s Booth.”

  The other guards moved into action to allow us to pass. The creak of the big steel doors opening echoed in the confined space. We walked through the doorway. After they slammed shut, I hoped I would leave the pits again.

  Our tip resulted in us heading down a hallway with bright magical lighting. The narrow corridors consisted of a red stone floor and dark melded walls.

  Our escort didn’t say a word. I did catch her giving glances to Oskatriver. They were the kind Tarla gave me, and I cued in that he must be important, smart, desired, and happened to find us in the woods as we approached.

  We arrived at a T intersection with a door facing the arena. I went to Serriavian and touched his body, wanting full control of the situation.

  The escort raised the door with a wheel only on this side and said, “Send them in.”

  “Suppress memories,” I said, and the skeleton shuddered slightly. “Carry the jenix and await instructions from inside the sand.”

  “Why change him?” Oskatriver asked.

  “You’ll see,” I replied simply.

  The minotauress eyed me with disdain and said, “Follow me.”

  To be fair to her, every minotaur eyed me like a cat eyed a mouse. Humans were likely only feared when they marched to war in formations, not in skirmishes. We left the arena entrance for the side hall until we arrived at a booth door. The escort opened the door then left us.

  The interior held a single bench with some sort of magical sheet of framed glass allowing a full view of the arena from the floor level. At the back of the room sat two massive chairs.

  “Sit. When the gong strikes three, you’ll fight your minion. Make it good or else the situation will go poorly,” Oskatriver said with a grunt then added. “Even for me.”

  The clean floors felt smooth under my sandals, and the bench at least allowed for a nice cushion. Asha placed himself directly behind me and asked, “What if he wins?”

  “You want to win. It's a fight to the death. Just be happy I want you to come back else I’d stick you in there with no armor and a dagger,” Oskatriver said.

  Gee thanks. I do need to find my role in this whole mess besides just standing around.

  The arena itself was just a big square with a few clasts to break up the plain arena. A half dozen spikes adorned the side walls, and the stands rested above those. More of the magical barriers existed to protect the spectators, telling me I had a long way to go on mastering my understanding of magic.

  I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the door closed. “How did you know to find us?”

  “Ah, you triggered a magical border alert, and I happened to be out of books, so I was conversing with an old war buddy on guard duty. I won’t say how, but when the report said a jenix, a skeleton, necromancer, and an unknown. Well, that piqued my curiosity. I guess the ward needs an improvement because the elva should have been detected,” Oskatriver said with a grunt and a shrug.

  Instead of mentioning why Asha was a pariah, his words reminded me of something. I was a necromancer without reserves. If this went well, that would change. However, having nothing at that moment might cost me the fight.

  “Hand me the Z we have,” I ordered Asha.

  He spilled a few orbs from a purse into my palm. They all were the same size and yet their colorful intensity differed. Ten Zorta later, I felt better prepared.

  Motion in the bleachers caught my attention.

  The arena slowly filled with spectators, not all of them minotaurs. I could hear the bell, signifying that our match was nearing.

  A lot of the spectators were stunned to see a skeleton holding a jenix, pointing at the duo as they arrived. I noticed no one glancing at us, and I figured we were being magically obscured.

  “Are you a scholar?” I asked, minotaur watching.

  Extraordinary. These mythical beasts are so damn impressive. I wonder what others would think if they sat in my chair?

  “Yes, the King’s Librarian, as a matter of fact. It’s a title I earned after de
cades of patience. I’m on the advisory council and rarely need to go forth for war,” he said proudly.

  Obviously, this statement carried a lot of esteem to him. I certainly could see the merits of being a wise bookkeeper. After a lifetime of accepting mediocrity, I suddenly knew I could be more since my transformation. Being more began to matter, and I felt like I already was changing in more ways than just becoming morally gray.

  The far end of the arena stirred, the gate rising to reveal three centaurs. Two carried large staffs while the biggest of the bunch twirled dual swords with a dazzling display for the crowd. This seemed to amuse Oskatriver, and he let out a throaty laugh.

  “Ironic that they fight their own kind. Hey, if you manage to kill any of these centaurs, don’t skeleton them unless you’re willing to pay a punishment you likely can’t afford,” Oskatriver warned.

  “Uh, how much?” I asked.

  “If these centaurs die, they’re slated for a revival. They are not property, therefore the King's punishment would be severe. I should have led with that,” he snorted in annoyance.

  The crowd cheered when the centaurs raised weapons high. An announcer came out and bellowed, “Welcome to the midday battle. Three centaurs of the Aromo Herd versus a rare treat; a necromancer’s pet and its captive jenix. Hmm… unique indeed. Place your bets! Place your bets! Place your bets! The match begins soon.”

  “Can we bet?” I asked.

  “No,” Asha said. “You're in the competition. Technically, I could, but they frown upon friends and family betting on matches. That goes for all cities, really.”

  “Are you confident you’ll win?” Oskatriver asked.

  I shrugged and said, “Gambling is something I generally avoid because it excites me. Certainly would make me try harder.”

  “Our current tally has me owing you seven hundred. The bet offer is six hundred you lose, eight hundred you win?” He offered.

  I smiled and rather hastily said, “Deal.”

  “Excellent, because I’ll get another quarter point for a win, well worth a hundred Zorta,” he said with a smug smirk.

  The crowd continued to grow while bet takers walked up and down the rows. A few gongs rang outside the main arena likely trying to build the crowd. I wasn’t nervous, and at the same time, I was.