Isekai Magus: A LitRPG Progression Saga

by Han Yang

  Tarb was his birth city. The home he grew up in contained a strewn mess and a single large stain from a dried pool of blood. Most of the wooden structures were cinders. The stone building lost doors and living rooms became toilets for the invaders.

  He visited his favorite merchant, noting that he was missing among those who had returned. The store was a ruined mess of fine garb that had been pissed on to ruin the material.

  His vision shifted.

  The sway of the dead locked into Toneba’s memory.

  An angry headshake cleared his flashback, undoubtedly coming to return. Arax would fix this. At least he chose to believe that. Given time and determination, anything was possible.

  He desperately wanted to visit Yew Wood and that reckless Prince Tao forbade it, driving north at a breakneck speed. Toneba had to visit the infantry every night and cast a heal area so powerful it could wear away a hard day’s march.

  On the journey out of Karn’s Kingdom, Tafo Outpost gave him hope for Yew Wood. When they passed through, the walls stood, but the city had been looted. No dead hung from the walls, but the residents had fled to Tarb.

  Even thinking of the city for a brief moment brought despair. All he could think about was how barbaric and savage his enemy was to have committed such atrocities.

  A week ago, they had arrived in Ikara Valley, and a vile delegation of minotaurs had met them to guide them north. Toneba wasn’t shocked in the slightest when he found out that the necromancer had provided the vital attack plan after revealing the current defense number he had gleaned from getting inside the city.

  Damien had resulted in over five thousand humans becoming slaves to the minotaurs. The damn peace treaty had bound their options even with them being so close to the prisoners. Prince Tao couldn’t buy his citizens back for three months and wasn’t even allowed to see his people.

  So yes, Toneba enjoyed the solitude of the blistering rain. The roar of the winds and the pain brought life to his brooding soul.

  Yesterday, he had the displeasure of meeting Bell. The brown haired, hazeled eyes temptress. She was so sweet, she almost convinced him she wasn’t evil. Toneba detested torture, not finding it necessary, and yet, could stomach turning a blind eye to this witch.

  The storm drowned out the screams thankfully.

  So much hate and anger filled him, all due to one man helping the enemy. A hand touched his shoulder, swapping to a soft tap. Priest Parko waved him into the command tent.

  He sloshed by the torture tent, hearing whimpering from inside. The spider woman exited as he passed by, her face awash in angst. He eyed her worriedly. Priest Parko wasn’t exactly a guard.

  Toneba readied to cast an arcane bolt, but the spider monster stomped toward the strivian section of the camp. He let out a relieved sigh, continuing for the command tent. One of the royal guards peeled back the tent flap for him and Toneba entered a mud room of sorts.

  He sat on a bench, a miscee quickly removing his sandals and stripping the mud off his feet. The servant wore a golden robe with teal trim, his whiskers bouncing with indifference while he worked. A second servant readied a towel for him, and a third held dry robes.

  Toneba had grown up impoverished, not knowing the finer things in life. He didn’t care for servants or even robes without rips. He only wanted to be happy. If it didn’t spark joy, he got rid of it, plain and simple.

  The miscee were not a joy, but almost a necessity for a long journey with this many soldiers. After endless marching, the miscee, who rode in the supply wagons, burst alive with activity keeping the soldiers from being completely drained.

  The army was drenched, exhausted, and the trip almost a waste of time. That was until that evil priestess was plopped right into their laps.

  Prince Tao didn’t even hesitate paying the strivian a thousand Z for her captive. The reality was, Bell was worth far more than that. The true deal was that spider being got her hole in the ground back. The silliness of the situation was not lost on Toneba. No one wanted some mining town under the mountain besides two evil strivian lords.

  Reports of the necromancer himself surfaced when the Prince’s cousin led a scouting mission atop his griffin. It was Damien Moonguard without a doubt, and his army of the undead, were only a week to the north. So close, and Prince Tao threw a tantrum because they were also so far.

  Today was the big meeting, the one where they had to decide what to do, now that the enemy had exited Seqa Mines. The war council hoped he would stay put and they could use back door tunnels to break any siege. That plan failed when he fled his rabbit hole.

  The torturers expected Bell to break and based on her whimpers, he believed she had, giving a second reason for the meeting.

  “Just waiting on the grandpa, like always,” Prince Tao grumbled over the sound of the rain crashing down against the tent’s fabric.

  “My mind is ancient, my body is vibrant, but I understand the impatience of youth,” Toneba said with a huff.

  The miscee dried him off, his nude form briefly exposed to the table of generals and diplomats.

  “Good, the horned fiends are gone,” Toneba said, and the table snickered in approval. “You disgust me for dealing with them.”

  Prince Tao wasn’t accustomed to anyone sassing him, besides Toneba. They’d been on the march for weeks, Toneba never being gentle on the Prince because of his rank.

  “I told you, to kill evil, sometimes you must deal with it first. Bell is a prime example,” Prince Tao said.

  Toneba cinched his robe tight, walking for the table filled with men in armored gear. Behind each of them stood an attendant, either a squire, a lady, or a miscee. Prince Tao always provided a servant for him, and the young lad extracted the chair for the champion.

  The generals never said much to him, knowing Toneba was a pacifist. They resented his snarky quips and the fact he was chosen as a champion. To them, it made no sense to bring a healer back from the dead. Champions were meant to conquer, not heal.

  They were wrong in their assumptions. Naturally, their narrowmindedness grated on Toneba. Today would likely be no different. Torturing Bell would only prove to strengthen the resolve of their foe, not help in his surrender.

  Toneba adjusted his chair, properly sitting at the table as Prince Tao continued, “I’m going to start with logistics. The enemy champion is utilizing large cats to do most of his Z hunting. This provides his army with fresh meat, his trade ability at a higher rate than our hunters, and the skins are going to help with the change of season. They’re a priority. Their skeletal frames are on the prowl and will be a primary target for our scouts.

  “Next are the goblins that flock to his banner. We have been informed that goblins can become trolls. If he converts -”

  The minotaur diplomat, one of the few female leaders at the long wooden table, interjected, “Excuse me, Prince Tao. They are not trolls. Goblins can achieve a higher status. Goblin Ogre. A misnomer and yes, they’ll be like a troll in appearance, but they are in essence a goblin magus. If the troll continues to upgrade, they’ll become ogres.

  “In order for this to work, you have to start with a goblin. A regular troll cannot become an ogre. Or so I’m informed. The minotaurs know this and find it extremely ineffective, because you can have two ogres make a baby for nothing and gain everything.”

  Prince Tao nodded. “See, they’re a threat and part of our enemy’s infrastructure we can do something about even if we can’t catch him. Goblins fuel his magical needs, and we have been given permission to wholesale execute any goblin we find in the valley.”

  “As if we needed permission,” Toneba snarked.

  “The minotaurs won, we did not. Our forces retreated, and they picked up their dead while ours were claimed. If they pushed the offensive…” General Bari said, sadly shaking his head.

  “Yes, yes, they can fight. Who cares about the damn goblin magic? Right now, they’re goblins that even I can kill,” Toneba said, and for once the generals and unit lead
ers smiled at his off-handed comments.

  “We need to deprive him from growing. Our scouts say he has more units than we ever anticipated, and not goblin skeletons. He has saltwater crocs in the hundreds,” Prince Tao said with a grunt. “We have to deprive his army. That is the best we can do for the foreseeable future.”

  The other leaders groaned over the sound of the wind whipping the tent. Even Toneba became despondent at the reality of their army being outpaced by the undead.

  “I have a plan. We’re sending our minotaur mercenaries out with an offer, an offer that will hopefully make our job easier. I’m not going to sugar coat it. We’re going to have to chase our foe into hostile territory. And that will cost lives while pushing our army to its breaking point. The necromancer has cavalry with unlimited energy because they’re damn skeletons. They don’t tire, so we can’t either,” Prince Tao said.

  “I can heal blisters and I can remove exhaustion to an extent. I may be a healer, but we should lean on that. This enemy is not crafty or complicated. He is vile, fleeing before our might to his own kin. We should smash whoever gets between us and our prey,” Toneba said, trying to lift spirits and rouse the troops.

  Prince Tao shook his head. His voice hardened with anger, “You’re a dunce. The cyclops, if they form, will wipe us, the orcs have fifty thousand, and the great herd can kill us if they regroup. We’re going into the six hells of a bad situation, but I admire your resolve and agree. We will do whatever it takes to kill Damien Moonguard.”

  CHAPTER 56

  Seqa Valley

  “Are ya certain?” Krona asked.

  “Yes, I’m certain. You’re just as free today as you were yesterday,” I said and then held up a finger as a caveat. “Those who are living minions are the exception until we earn enough to free them.”

  He nodded, the dwarves behind him echoing his sentiment. “We’ll likely not continue on with you. For what has felt like ages, we have yearned to return to our people. Nessio gave us life and hope of doing so.”

  “I understand, but we aren’t at that point yet,” I said, gazing down at him.

  His short legs had to jog, walk, and then jog again to keep up with me. I wasn’t slowing the caravan. We needed to hustle ahead of Toneba to reach our friends.

  The saddle from the ram rubbed at my legs. I shifted my gaze down and to the distant left. The forest tree line followed our path along the outskirts of the valley’s edge. In those woods, Asha rode Charlie on a scouting mission. I was nervous about the centaurs.

  Exiting the Town of Seqa had been relatively smooth. No army had tried to pen us in, and I gave credit to our people for their swift actions. Our roots in the city weren’t deeply entrenched and leaving it behind had proved relatively easy.

  Achieving the freedom of being above ground left a lot of the dwarves hesitant. They had agoraphobia and most demanded to be taken to Zozo Hold. For years they had dared not risk the dangerous trip across Seqa Valley. I understood their hesitation. These lands were once ogre infested. Now that we were out, they were demanding to be free.

  While I didn’t have to acquiesce to their request, and I hated their initial blunt tactics, I was going to Zozo Hold anyway.

  That part of the plan didn’t upset anyone. Most found it smart to run to allies. I kept the next phase a secret for the moment, knowing others would hate the -

  Boom!

  The sound washed over the valley as a colorful array of spells exploded in the distance.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out the scouting mission had triggered a ward or alerted the local centaurs.

  “Battle lines! Face the forest,” I commanded.

  The caravan halted, and my army formed to address the coming threat. We’d discussed this prior to marching, but I hoped they were ready for the reality of the situation.

  Our spread-out train of wagons and mounts condensed. The skeleton gators scurried to adjust, forming ranks that went only two-deep. Loud clacks of gravel moving under the skeletons' heavy pressure drowned out my attempts to talk to Tarla.

  “Fourth Company, go forth and hide on our right flank, inside the trees. Fifth company, act as the reserve and protect our backs,” I said, knowing my minions would hear.

  My skeletons and minions had been broken into six groups. Main cavalry of first through third companies. Fourth a flank. Fifth a reserve. Sixth the living minions who formed my bodyguards.

  We had only traveled for a few hours away from the mine entrance, finding a whole lot of centaur activity. The local ogres had fled, retreating high into the mountains or dying from their fights with the main herd months earlier.

  I had expected to run into an enemy force, but not this soon.

  Shaking my head at our luck, I reached behind me, untying a leather string that connected my helmet to my ram’s travel pack. I donned the last of my armor set, holding a lancing spear as I nudged my ram forward.

  Tarla rode a ram beside me, raising a banner the goblins had created from our shopping trip. It had blue trim with a white backdrop and a flexing skeleton arm. It was tacky, cheesy, and I loved seeing it snapping in the strong breeze.

  The formation followed my slow pace forward.

  The goblins rode atop matogators, securing themselves in makeshift saddles or platforms that were hastily attached. Trolls and living minions stayed close around me, forming our center.

  On the left flank, Sprinkles crawled forward, his skull barely below the tree line. Our shift from caravan to fighting formations lasted a few minutes. The entire time, spells zinged out from within the valley’s forest.

  We had been traveling the edge of the valley, sticking outside of the forest so our wagons could wheel freely without the need for a new road. I knew the enemy would be hitting the forest tree line soon. If I let them hit the open space between mountain and forest, they’d be able to pivot easier. I wanted to have a clean victory, not a running fight where our troops were slowed.

  Crack! Boom!

  Magic burst from within the forest, telling me the centaurs were desperate to kill Asha. I wasn’t sure how Asha survived the constant barrage. Based on the angry sounds that neared, he brought a whole lot of centaurs with him.

  “Raise the banner,” I said to Tarla.

  “Like this,” she asked, sticking the banner higher. “What’s that mean?”

  “Uh… I don’t know, but dammit… not the time. CHARGE!” I shouted with a bellowing cry.

  The grit and rubble already danced lightly from the few hundred centaurs that had likely chased Asha. Now, the planet trembled from the combined might of my minions thundering forward.

  The distance to the trees closed quickly with even my ram struggling to keep up with the waddling sprint of the skeleton gators.

  A few goblins struggled to stay atop their mounts while others tumbled from their perches, unlikely to be long for this world. Lessons, always lessons - including the fact that Charlie had emerged from the tree line at a blistering speed with a nearly dead Asha on his back.

  I reached for him, willing my magic forward. “Heal other.” My words were drowned out in the charge.

  The green magic zipped from my hand, twirling in tendrils that reminded me of vines. The spell slammed into my friend, healing his injuries and letting him sit upright a second later. The mana I consumed continued to pull on my newfound reserves.

  The spell finished, leaving me with a scant thirteen mana left.

  This isn’t good.

  A sudden motion caught my attention.

  Sprinkles surged off the rocky terrain, avoiding the fight completely. His reveal caused a few spells to chase his form as he sprinted beyond the arriving front line of centaurs. The first sections of the enemy charge displayed a confident and cocky chieftain charging his cavalry into chaos.

  My counter charge arrived right at the tree line the same time the enemy did.

  Goblins unleashed spells of all sorts, the magic soaring forward. Lightning struck down between the trees
, fireballs seared forest, ice shot up to spear centaurs, rocks propelled by air mages carried more force than a crossbow, acid splashed across front lines, pink webbing ensnared the hooves, and bolts of arcane seared flesh from bone.

  That magic devastated the front of the centaur herd.

  The back lines of centaurs didn’t hesitate, sending dozens of their own spells into our ranks. A skeleton exploded as it was frozen then hit with a fireball. Another became entwined in webbing, breaking apart when it crashed down.

  Arrows whizzed out of the trees and struck a few goblins, most clanging off the skeletons.

  A lead matogator lunged, soaring twenty feet high and snapping the top torso of the chieftain off in a clean bite. On the flank, Mini and the lidka hit the left side of the stalling enemy. My unit that I held back, surged forward as they churned through the forest floor as the enemy shifted left.

  Sprinkles stomped with abandon, breaking trees and centaurs with glee.

  In a matter of moments, our vastly superior numbers painted a dire picture for the enemy centaurs. They exhausted their mana to kill Asha. They charged into a superior foe and were soon outflanked.

  That was literally a gift. I couldn’t have gotten luckier than facing a brash enemy commander. At least the centaurs were never known for their intelligence.

  A few cries for mercy erupted over the forest, their requests not granted except for a quick death.

  I watched the matogators' large jaws snap against centaurs, the results always the same. Bones cracked, organs became mush, and the enemy died.

  The front half of the centaurs died, tumbled, and in some cases exploded from the initial charge. The back half of the herd broke in a rout, their leader dead and my forces assailed from all sides. Some would escape, but I let my minions hound the enemy.

  I slowed my ram, coming to a halt and only hearing the fighting that drove deeper into the forest.

  “How many dead?” Asha asked, arriving with a huffing Charlie who bled from a dozen spots.

  An animal healer shot an orange wave of magic over the mount, correcting the damage. Well, mostly. Before it could finish, the goblin fainted and vomited from mana exhaustion. As Nee helped him up, I shouted for a second healing of Charlie.