Isekai Magus: A LitRPG Progression Saga

by Han Yang

  “Back to the story. The father and his party died. His last journal entry said they found two cyclops with a hoard of treasure. In another book, I found out that the next summer the eldest son led a mission, going on and on about how his father would be revenged. He thought there was only one cyclops. The final journal was of some random group of nobles set out to avenge their subjects.”

  He shook his head in dismay.

  “Basically, they keep coming in small numbers and never learn their lesson,” I said.

  “Exactly, and that cyclops that woke up in the middle of the night to piss? He would have likely found us based on my timing estimate. If any of those three groups had sat on their motivations and spent a few days scouting, they’d have learned the actual fact that there’s at least five cyclops in that clearing. Alright, I’ll be back in an hour to relieve you. Lumpy is right there. If you get in trouble, whistle for Charlie,” Asha said, readying to leave.

  “I don’t know how to ride a horse,” I said.

  He stared at me like I was crazy. Or maybe he thought I was stupid for saying such a dumb joke.

  Instead of commenting, he shimmied backwards and disappeared into the bush behind me.

  Lumpy lightly stepped through the bush to keep me company. I petted him slightly, just once to thank him for joining me.

  The thin, early morning clouds moved quickly, shifting from rain to scattered sunshine. Over the next half hour, a village no bigger than Yew Wood came to life.

  Goblins scrubbed streets, pushing the muck into divots that ran toward the river. A pack of three-headed dogs followed the trails to get some water. Even though the day had started, activity was minimal and it almost felt as if it were a weekend.

  Instead of walls, crudely constructed caltrops separated the fields from the structures. The village itself only had a few actual buildings. Most of the interior buildings were lean-tos or three walled stables.

  Jungle fronds provided roofs in thick mats. Overall, the village seemed in decent shape. This was a step above what I had expected. It was almost as if they killed some Amish folks and stole their village. When I saw the goblins working roofs, streets, and general maintenance, it was easy to conclude they weren’t mindless nose pickers.

  Fires burned breakfast stews, and I didn’t see a troll until about a half hour after it stopped raining. I did get to learn goblins had magic; nothing super powerful, but they did some light training - a fact that also impressed me.

  The troll stood taller than me with lanky limbs pointing at goblins to hone their magic. About a quarter of the goblins rotated through a line, arriving for instructions one at a time. The troll trainer wore light armor and carried javelins in a long quiver that dangled off his back.

  Based on the size of the village, I surmised there were at most fifty goblins, ten cerberus, and a dozen trolls. Eventually, the troll children came out, running to the bridge to play a game of kickball with a goblin skull.

  The joys of Nordan.

  For whatever reason, I watched them playing with little thought. They’d grow up to be slave masters of goblins and war against humans. Not much would change that fact.

  Hours passed with nothing of note happening. Right when Tarla snuck up to join my spot, the big chief troll exited his home. This strivian was huge. He had triple belly rolls and legs so thick they rubbed as he waddled.

  Goblins rushed ahead of him and jumped to the river, splashing around. When he neared, he barked at the goblins to exit.

  “Interesting that he tests the water,” Tarla commented.

  We watched three female trolls head out of the large home, joining the chief in the water. A pack of cerberus trotted on both sides of the ladies, and for the first time, we saw the full force. Nine cerberus, eight warrior trolls, ten female trolls, two dozen younglings of varying ages, and over fifty goblins.

  “That is a lot for our small group,” I grumbled.

  “Yeah, and look.” Tarla nodded his head in that direction. “There’s goblins lined up to air dry them as they come out. They have magic.”

  Sure enough, one of the lower caste who had bathed exited the water and headed for the goblins. The four minions burst a wind spell onto the warrior to dry him off.

  “I can’t think of how we kill all this,” I said.

  “Is there a reason you didn’t sleep with me last night?” Tarla asked while we watched.

  “Uh… yeah. Your brother has been perving on Bell, and she’s not interested,” I said.

  “Hmm… I’d rather sleep with you, if you don’t mind,” she said.

  I leaned over and kissed her cheek and said, “Sure, we can combine the tents again or something. The problem will fix itself in due time when we find a proper home.”

  “Are you wanting to fight all this?” Tarla asked.

  I huffed, not having a good answer. Even if I wanted to view this as a game scenario, the odds were horrific. Fifty mages, even if they were weak, was already a lot to consider. When you added everything else to the mix, it became a daunting task.

  “I’m fairly certain we can use their bridge at night,” I said.

  Asha slithered up beside me and said, “Ah, the prime bath time for the village. This should be most of what they have. I have a plan. It starts with...”

  I listened intently, and when he was done, I carefully headed back to where the others camped a few hundred feet into the jungle.

  Our cooking pot steamed a stew without a fire, telling me that Tarla likely had used a spell to heat it. Jark and Bell scrubbed the recovered armor with rags and clean water. The skeletal donkey stood holding most of our supplies. Its vacant eye slots followed me with curiosity, as if wishing I would remove his burden.

  We needed the camp ready to go, even if Charlie had the large camping rucks off his body.

  Since I hadn’t eaten breakfast, I helped myself to a few bowls of fish stew. When I finished, I found the shitty old sword, walked into the woods further from the tree line, and swung the weapon.

  As I went, I upgraded my stats to help with the fatigue.

  Name: Damien Moonguard

  Race: Human

  Affiliation: Ostriva

  Zorta: 22.177

  Nordan Score: 4600

  Ostriva Score: 207,500

  Location: Ikara Valley

  Magic Type: Healer

  Healer Level: 4

  Magic Type 2: Necromancer

  Necromancy Level: 3

  Necromancer Minions: 6/15

  Fighting Level: Pathetic Plus

  Mana: 30/30

  Mana Recharge: 5

  Strength: 7

  Stamina: 6

  Dexterity: 5

  Constitution: 8

  Willpower: 7

  Cultivation: 9

  Intelligence: 29

  Wisdom: 29

  Charisma: 22

  Tracking: 5

  Endurance: 8

  Perception: 13

  Burst: 6

  Reflex: 6

  Healing: 6

  Melee Combat: 5

  Aim: 2

  Hunger: 1

  Thirst: 1

  Aging: 59 years until death.

  Across the board, I was leveling up nicely. My core stats were improving, and even though I had built more muscle mass, I hadn’t seen a big change in my strength. I rationalized it as a divergence between the statistics the god’s used and my physical body.

  A level one hundred strength goblin was maybe a thing. If that was the case, the muscle mass to support that would equate to the goblin becoming ogre sized. At the same time, if a cyclops was a one in strength from being cased in a spider web for years, it wouldn’t lose a hundred feet and become the size of a goblin.

  Basically, the gods were encouraging both sides to become champions while keeping them looking healthy in accordance with their species.

  I physically was improving without a doubt. Probably from constantly being on the run with a soup diet. I almost felt like I was back to my
high school body. A few more weeks of training and grueling marching, and I’d probably be at a peak fitness.

  After an hour or so of trying to improve my sword swinging by killing trees, I retired to the group.

  When I arrived, Jark finished rubbing out a blood stain in armor and eyed me hesitantly. The white haired man always looked off since he had lost his red hair while keeping the face full of freckles.

  “Yes,” I said, knowing he wanted something.

  “Can I upgrade? We went to the river again while you were scouting, and I’m under ten Z needed,” he asked.

  Bell eyed me and said, “It’ll help with the plan. We should upgrade at least him and Lumpy.”

  Lumpy arrived from under a bush as if he were listening. He spat a lizard out at Bell’s feet.

  “Thanks, my handsome little Lumpy,” Bell said. She pointed to the lizard for me to absorb. “This spot should be good enough to do an upgrade. The spell doesn’t shoot out of the sky like a revival.”

  I closed my eyes, reaching out with my spirit to find the lizard’s orb. I consumed the .014 Zorta, adding it to an ever growing pile.

  With my aura still out, I focused on Lumpy.

  Minion: Lumpy.

  Health 14/14. Level 2.

  Sentient Cat.

  Fighting Abilities: Highly proficient.

  Memories intact.

  Upgrade Available. Consume 30/58 mana and 37 Zorta (YES) or (NO) Due to lack of mana upgrade cost is 65 Zorta.

  I let go of his form, knowing I’d need to pull from our stash to upgrade the jenix. I wanted to and still might, but I was curious to see how much an upgrade would improve Jark.

  Did he continue to grow?

  I shifted my desire to my human minion.

  Human Minion: Jark.

  Health 11/11. Level 2

  Sapient Human.

  Memories intact.

  Fighting Abilities: Weak.

  Spell Abilities: Mediocre

  Upgrade Available. Consume 30/61 mana and 8.75 Zorta (YES) or (NO) Due to lack of mana upgrade cost is 38.75 Zorta.

  I hadn’t leveled up healing, intelligence, wisdom, or necromancer lately. I had a feeling once I was able to get near a library, the middle two would increase greatly.

  “Alright, going to pull out a hundred Zorta,” I said with a grimace.

  “A hundred?” Bell asked with a grunt, clearly not loving the idea.

  “Yeah, my lack of mana makes the costs exorbitant. If I had a higher mana, Jark would only be almost nine,” I said.

  “Lumpy said he can wait,” Bell said, and I chuckled.

  She reached in and grabbed four orbs of ten each.

  I concentrated on the orbs and ingested them one at a time.

  “Alright, this could kill you,” I said.

  Jark’s eyes shot wide, and he exclaimed, “What?”

  “I’ve only leveled skeletons before. Just like turning you into a human minion was a risk, so is this,” I said.

  “Can we try a goblin?” he asked.

  “Nope,” Bell said, tossing hands on her hips, “They would need a resurrection, and the magic would alert the entire area of where we are. If you’re scared, I understand.”

  His vision shifted to fixate on me. Jark nodded tersely, not saying anything.

  I selected yes to his upgrade, not sure what would happen.

  He had a seizure and fell face first, busting his nose.

  “That’s gonna leave a mark,” Bell said.

  The black magic wisped around us, swirling over and onto his body. A second later, ghoulish hands crept up, tearing his flesh. His eyes were open as they ripped him down to the bone.

  I had to close my eyes as the horror unfolded. I just had to.

  When the spell dissipated, I opened my eyes to see a bigger Jark, standing in skeleton form. His gestures were filled with frustration, as if blaming me for his predicament.

  His anger grew, and he punched a tree.

  “Jark, suppress memories,” I ordered, and he went rigid. “Go hunt the area with Lumpy. For now, focus on small things and pile them for Bell. Retreat from a big fight. I need you both alive for tonight.”

  The duo sprinted into the underbrush, heading south.

  “Well, shit,” Bell said. “I’m sorry I pushed for his upgrade. He’s going to resent me for calling him scared.”

  I nodded, biting back my retort. “Ouch. I feel like shit.”

  “Sorry, not much we can do. They’ll be fine. Your girlfriend is going to be pissed you killed her brother,” Bell said, biting her lip to contain her laugh.

  “Not helping, Bell. Our fight might have gotten easier though,” I said.

  “Speaking of which, this gear needs to be properly stowed. Give me a hand before we run out of time?” Bell asked, and just like that, we moved past the fact that ghouls had transformed Jark back to a skeleton. “Are you ready for tonight?”

  “Trying to psych myself up. Asha says the reward is worth the risk. He said to trust him, and even left me in the dark on some things. I’m going to trust him,” I said.

  “I trust your judgement. We made it this far because of you, and I’m sure tonight will be entertaining to say the least,” Bell said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

  CHAPTER 26

  Ikara Valley

  I shifted in Charlie’s saddle, not even slightly comfortable. An hour ago, Bell and Tarla had helped me into an insane amount of gear.

  My bottom layer consisted of cloth. Above that rested tight leathers, and above that I had applied chainmail. Finally, there was the plate armor. I also wore an open-faced helm with a nose protector.

  An ache in my neck begged for me to take the helmet off. I vertically hefted a finely crafted lance to alleviate the strain on my arm. From my perch, I felt like an imposter knight.

  “You ready?” Asha asked from below.

  “Yeah, I think I am,” I said, my voice becoming more assertive.

  “Off with you then,” Tarla said, a hint of sourness in her voice.

  I knew she was conflicted. I had to unsuppress her brother for her to experience my reasoning. A minute later, and he went back to being a generic human skeleton because his mind couldn’t fathom being a minion again.

  That had led to her being rightfully bitter. I knew time would help heal her attitude. I always tried to be supportive, and Jark freaking out was because of his desire for more power.

  Asha snuck out of the tree line with the two goblins, Lumpy, and Jark with him. I slowly walked Charlie out of the woods, headed directly for the bridge.

  The crisp nighttime air whipped a decent wind. The sky overhead was clear, and the moon blasted a bright evening light. The mile or so of small vegetables swayed in the breeze. Besides the sound of the wind, and our group moving, the peaceful evening remained quiet.

  The goblins on watch snoozed with chins tucked to their chests. I had watched them during the day before we went to sleep. These goblins had conducted repairs, or dug irritation, pulling a day and now a night shift; something I would have to consider avoiding because it was clearly a bad decision.

  Charlie huffed, each step done with anger. The warhorse knew we were going into battle and wanted to charge. The poor guy had to carry me and the two supply bags until we reached the bridge.

  The poor skeleton donkey followed closely behind us. I felt bad for him because he hauled our third bag, all the stolen gear, and two tents.

  Bell walked to my left with a bow out and extra arrows showed fletching from behind her shoulder. She wore her light leathers with a fine sword on her hip. The woman walked cautiously in the night, her hazel eyes constantly on the lookout.

  Tarla carried a new staff confidently on my right. The red haired woman scowled, a determined face of anger that broke when she saw me smiling down at her. She wore mage robes, and I probably needed to get her a new outfit because hers was literally starting to get holes.

  I watched Asha dart across cabbage fields. The elva hopped i
rrigation ditches smoothly, avoiding the first goblin that rested closest to the bridge. He deftly unhooked the bell, his face awash in concern.

  Asha exhaled when he set it onto the ground softly. He ran to the next lookout who was snoring soundly to repeat the process.

  The second bell went down silently, as did the third. The fourth wrapped onto the back side of the village, and he ignored that goblin in his plan.

  My trot toward the bridge was slow and steady. Each second that transpired, we could be discovered, and I grew anxious.

  With the three bells down, the teams split into positions to strike.

  Lumpy lunged into a sprint, flinging chunks of farm field behind him in his mad dash. The feline leaped from a dozen feet out, jaws wide and ready.

  The snoring goblin never saw him coming.

  The large teeth snapped onto the back of the goblins neck and the duo went tumbling. All I heard was a soft thump. If I had to guess, the goblin’s death was instant.

  Lumpy proudly pranced toward me with a dead goblin hanging from his jaws.

  Asha crept up to his goblin, each step carefully placed. The goblin snorted, sucking air through its nose. Asha lunged, running a sword through the chest of a goblin.

  The goblin’s eyes shot open in panic. Even from afar, I could see the desire to live in its motions. Asha rammed a dagger into its neck, ripping out the throat. The goblin clutched the sword jutting out of the front of its chest. A moment later, the goblin guard lost its fingers and its life.

  On the left side of the village, the three skeletons crept up on a stirring goblin. They swarmed the creature, crashing him to the ground with muffled cries. Skeletal arms rose and fell rapidly, diving daggers glinted off the moonlight until they ran red with blood.

  I reached the bridge, twisting my torso to push the packs off Charlie. Bell and Tarla helped lower the packs - not that we were at our staging point.

  The three dead goblins were dragged to me. I could have raised the corpses from the start of the bridge, but I figured if we were charged during the vulnerable moment, a consolidated army would be best.

  I waited patiently for the bodies to arrive, choosing to watch the village.