Isekai Magus: A LitRPG Progression Saga

by Han Yang

  Snap!

  He was going to have to decide soon. The next set of rocks twirled in the sky.

  I heard the orc chieftain shouting and knew to expect something.

  My mad dash placed me within range of his mages. The enemy charged up spells, and I did notice the leader limit the expenditure. Only about one in five mages swirled their hands while casting.

  I jumped to dig my feet into the farm field. The give of the dirt slowed my tremendous momentum. Knowing their magic was coming, I diverted, running away.

  My long rapid strides sped me across the fields. When I pivoted to put the hilltop village between me and the enemy, I grinned, knowing Sprinkles would survive.

  The enemy mages cast, their magical summoning time far too long and my pace too rapid. The spells harmless zipped, cracked, sizzled, and exploded into a spot I no longer occupied.

  Now that I had the village between us, I charged up the hill, shield leveled at potential defenders.

  When I crested the palisade top, no spells burst forth and no defenders shot bows or readied to fight.

  The closer I came, the more I adjusted my shield for potential spells below and realized I may have been over prepared.

  Inside the village, a few hundred very confused goblins and trolls stared up at me, fixated with terror. A few even prayed for me to spare them.

  Motion from the left caught my attention. I saw the orc young and a few females preparing spells.

  The club lashed out in a cross swing, my goal to level and sweep those trying to kill me out of the village.

  Before the desperate enemy could cast, my weapon rushed inches over the village surface, decimating buildings and orcs alike. Bodies went flying thousands of feet, being shot into the air by the power of Sprinkles.

  Not letting up, I jumped, letting my large skeleton feet carefully squish only those who dared to fight me. A few extra stomps, and the village threats were ended with most of the goblins and trolls staring in disbelief.

  For the first time, the orc lines wavered. A small unit of cavalry peeled off the formation to charge me. The orc leader shouted at his soldier.

  Knowing I had time before they’d reach me, I walked to the palisades, kicking the wooden fencing down and robbing the enemy of having a fortification.

  When the cavalry neared, I fled, running for my lines. Again, the enemy flung spells that missed, and I tore across the farms until I returned to my formation.

  I ran to the forest, never slowing. With practiced motions, I returned my weapons until they were slung over my back.

  I thumbed the long rope going across my chests ensuring it was tight.

  From below, I heard the dozen goblins in my ribcage platform cheering.

  Snap!

  Another volley surged into the air.

  A distant thud.

  Another dozen dead.

  Unfortunately, the enemy forces held thousands, but I could see their resolve faltering.

  Even the cavalry unit that was chasing me peeled off to flee. As in they refused to go back to deal with punishment for their insubordination while also refusing to charge my army of over twenty-five hundred troops. That unit said screw this and went south.

  I certainly didn’t blame them, chuckling as I reached down, plucking pines out of the soil and collecting them under my left arm. I gathered at least a dozen and sprinted in front of my army.

  A quick glance back over my shoulder revealed the catapults would not hit me from behind.

  With a quick jerk back, I hurled a tree. Then a second launched, trailing the first with an odd spin. Each of my throws utilized a side arm strategy, sending the trees twirling mere feet above the planted vegetables.

  The first went high, the second low. Getting a feel for my power and the angle, I adjusted.

  I released the next ten in rapid succession.

  Unlike a rock being hurled in an arc, these created huge swaths of damage to the enemy’s formations. Orc bodies shot into the air, formations scattered, and to my surprise, the chieftain stood there in shock.

  At least a few hundred orbs populated from my attack and I -

  A blade shot out the chest of the immense leader. A lieutenant kicked the body forward, killing the war boss.

  Just like that, the disciple became the chief, and he bellowed for a charge.

  I knew in a fraction of a second I had a tough choice to make.

  Did I kill more with tree throwing? Or did I try to peel off magic by making myself a target?

  I decided to play defense, letting my minions do the killing while I tried to keep them alive.

  The enemy thundered forward, recklessly charging. The right call for the enemy would have been to fall back when we had a greater range advantage. The chief’s indecision had cost him his life, and now a bloody fight would cost me more troops than I cared to lose.

  The distance between our armies faded quickly.

  I unslung my club and gripped my makeshift shield. Behind me, I heard a war cry that tried to match the orcs.

  It wasn’t even close to the screaming cries used to encourage each other.

  My troops were goblins and skeletons. The undead don’t shout, and thankfully they don’t require battle courage.

  They did counter charge, Asha correctly committing the entire army to battle. Our troops surged forward, and I felt the wagon my real body laid in jostle.

  I leaped over the charging gators, eager to absorb magic with my wooden shield.

  The enemy spell casters didn’t hold back this time, their magic blossoming as they empowered their attacks. I braced myself and -

  Boom!

  A massive lightning bolt hit me from behind, crashing through the blue protection spell my goblins cast.

  The intense energy seared through Sprinkle’s bones, causing me to falter until I crashed to my knees.

  I spun into a roll, bringing my shield up just in the nick of time. A wide and powerful bolt of crackling energy streaked down.

  Boom!

  Crack!

  The griffin fled after its magus was done casting. Those spells were from miles away and so powerful they terrified me.

  I felt most of the bones in Sprinkles ache with warnings. Fissures and cracks dominated the giant’s frame. Without having many options, I laid down.

  The din of two armies meeting roared over the battlefields. Explosive magic roiled the area as the two sides clashed. I raced to get back into the fight.

  Repair: Sprinkles - extensive bone damage 219/255 mana. (YES) - (NO)

  I selected yes, knowing that whoever rode that griffin had been waiting for an opportune moment. They succeeded because I never saw it coming. That and my front lines crashed into loosely formed orcs without my help.

  The snaps of crossbows and the incredible display of magic brightened the battlefield until the area around Sprinkles plunged into blackness. Magic surged through the bones, knitting the seams back together.

  When the spell faded, I saw the griffin joined by a second rider atop a small dragon. The humans watched our fight, and if I had to guess, the new arrival was Tao or Toneba.

  They knew their element of surprise was gone, and when I bolted to my feet, they increased their distance.

  Not letting them keep me down any longer, I jumped into the fray - literally.

  A half dozen spells readied for me, bursting forth during my small charge. I adjusted, letting the magic crack into my shield.

  Brilliant light obscured my vision. When it faded, I saw the enemy charge had thankfully faltered.

  The counter charge of my gators had more weight and organization to it. The enemy commanders shouted at their troops to form battle lines to help with the growing pressure.

  The trolls arrived, skidding to a halt and hastily firing a volley of arrows that soared over their infantry. The projectiles dove into my ranks as a charging spell blew up a goblin and a gator.

  A brute of an orc bellowed a challenge at me as I stomped his troops, find
ing squishing more effective than smashing.

  With a snicker, I kicked the new war boss a few hundred feet. When he soared away, dying from the impact, the enemy noticed.

  With the first signs of breaking evident, I jumped over the ranged troops, sweeping my club across the troll formations.

  Hundreds died in a single horizontal swipe, and I became a demon incarnate, not sparing any who dared to stand.

  My army pushed hard against the shield wall, crumpling shields while I smashed their ranged units into oblivion.

  Asha rode Charlie at the head of a flanking force. Mini and the lidka skeletons hopped off the gator mounts to crash into the wavering enemy lines.

  The enemy commanders scrambled, and the reckless charge not only stalled, it broke.

  The enemy knew better than to rout and instead condensed their units. Enemy banners came down, white flags replacing them.

  Orcs stopped swinging, dying while only trying to defend against our troops. The message they sent was clear. We surrender.

  I sighed, wanting more Z. When I gazed across their army, I saw only about half of the enemy had fallen.

  Still, the battle was likely scried by War Chief Tarro. I could use his support, even if he thought I wasn’t human.

  My troops adjusted, catching onto the fact that we had won.

  I walked over to a stone from one of the enemy catapults, digging the boulder out of the ground.

  When my fingers plucked the object free, I bounced the weight into my palm.

  I scanned the horizon, hoping to find the griffin and wyvern, but all I saw was two fading dots to the west.

  A new squad of wyverns approached from the north. These were likely orcs coming because of all the magic erupting during the battle.

  I proceeded to work while Asha, Nee, and Yermica negotiated with the surrendered enemy. A knock on my carriage door told me it was likely time for me to abandon Sprinkles.

  I set him to retrieve ammunition, and I returned to my body.

  A loud gasp escaped my lips when I sat up. Lumpy asked for pets that I hastily delivered on my way out. I opened the door, seeing Tarla waiting for me.

  “Hello dear,” I said, planting a kiss on her freckled cheek.

  “Excellent victory. I think we should at least listen to the negotiations,” she said, offering me a cloak while pulling one over her head.

  “Hold on, what were our losses?” I asked.

  “You’d know more than me. I -”

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Boom!

  The sky tore open striking down with revivals. We had plenty of healers and -

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Boom!

  “Ah that is more like it,” I said, pausing to check my notifications. “So amazing not to hit mana exhaustion when I lose minions.”

  “How bad?”

  “Checking now,” I told her.

  Matogator Minions 121, 373, 379, 422, 575, 661, 663, 667, 669, 701, 714, 732, and 1119 have died. Mana penalty negated. You have one hour to rebuild your minions.

  Matogator Minions 665, 666, 807, 862, 1412, and 1422 have died beyond repair. Mana penalty negated. You may collect the Zorta of your dead minion at the location of their destruction.

  I reached out and brought in the green orb, ingesting them quickly. I sighed, knowing I was nearing 7,700 Zorta in my reserves and the matogators were preferred to an orc.

  “Six gone forever. One of the units got hit hard. The rest of them died across the formations. For such a brief fight, I worry because the fighting wasn’t that pitched,” I said.

  Tarla scoffed, shaking her head. Her fire staff squashed cabbage as we walked, and I gazed down at a ruined field.

  “You missed it when you became distracted. The enemy mages were targeted with crossbows while they charged spells. The bolts ripped through the mages, some even lifting off their feet. The condensed spells became unstable, ripping through their own ranks.”

  Her hands became animated, mimicking an explosion. She smiled, and I joined her even if the reality was kinda sad. A lot of orcs would not wake up the next day.

  “Wow, yeah, some asshole shot me with a lightning spell. It must have been insanely powerful because it was from far away. Thankfully, his mounted goblins kept the damage down, and our biggest fighter didn’t explode,” I said.

  Tarla and I dropped the conversation for now, walking through goblins who rushed to repair damage. I saw matogators missing limbs and heard goblins crying out in pain.

  Healers vomited from mana exhaustion, and there was a triage area starting to pile up with the wounded and dead.

  Everything would take mana, time, and in some cases, a pyre. Their agony became more than I could tolerate.

  I tugged on Tarla’s sleeve, sitting down.

  I was a champion healer at level twelve, capable of greater feats than just puppeting the dead. My strict use of skeletons for combat normally kept my healing dormant.

  I recharged my mana, paying the low Zorta fee.

  Finding my center, I swapped to healing. I let the power surge through my body while desiring to bring life and perfection.

  I welcomed the green energy and condensed its power in my core. I packed each bundle of new power tighter and tighter, rotating the internal creation to find openings.

  I felt a tickle, much like I had back on that forest road when I first arrived on Nordan. Knowing that my magic was talking to me, I explored my billowing power.

  My body shined brightly, brimming with green energy so intense my inner eyelids were green. Even the matogators began to give me space, fearing what was happening.

  Click!

  Something melded inside my core, the power too much to contain, and I exploded with green energy. My eyes rolled into my head, and I teetered.

  Your once-a-month casting of ‘Fountain of Youth’ has been consumed. Recharges in 29 days 23 hours and 59 minutes.

  Confusion flared in my mind, and a fog condensed in my brain. I fell over, unable to stay upright.

  Whatever that spell had done, it also kicked my ass.

  I felt a hand pushing against my shoulder, rocking my body and trying to wake me.

  Angry shouting drowned out whatever the nearby voice tried to say, and violent shaking of the ground told me Sprinkles neared.

  The arguing stopped. My body became covered in a shadow.

  A stillness settled, and eventually I heard, “War Chief Tarro will hear of this transgression.”

  Nee scoffed. “Suck on shit, fickle worm. Tell the war chief your forces died, and his delegation was made young when they underestimated my Lord’s powers.” Nee sassed him good, adding, “I can’t believe you’re willing to die because you’re suddenly young again. Get over it.”

  I coughed and then laughed.

  “Fountain of youth,” I managed, coughing more. “Water.”

  A flask reached my hand, and I gulped greedily, soothing some of my throat irritation.

  The pain in my head faded, and it became clear what had happened. Not a single face around me was aged. Even the hardened orcs espoused their youthful prime.

  Every wounded goblin, orc, and troll was healed - every ailment fixed - and I realized I had unlocked what was likely a magus level spell.

  A shriek in the distant north rippled across the land. What started as specs on the horizon changed to a swarm.

  That swarm morphed into a small army of winged beasts, all flying with haste for our formation.

  I’d stirred the pot and triggered War Chief Tarro.

  “The Boss comes, best be prepared to do battle and die, or kneel and serve,” the orc Nee insulted said, returning to his small wyvern.

  The delegation left, and the surrendered orcs eyed their piled weapons hesitantly. In a matter of minutes, we’d gone from negotiating, to on the edge of fighting again.

  When the team that was sent to discuss the surrender of these orcs left, Asha extended an arm to lift me off the trampled
grass. I stood dusting myself off, noting he smiled happily.

  “What?” I asked.

  “They’re going to lose so much status,” Asha said. I shrugged, not caring if a few orcs had to explain why they looked youthful again. “Damien, they lost their size. Orcs age and grow with time. You reverted them to a baser form.”

  “You’re not worried about Torro?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “He could defeat us, but we’re fresh. Fountain of youth restores mana too,” Asha said, and I checked.

  “Sweet,” I said, not skipping a beat. “Best to be ready for a fight. It’ll be a few minutes before they arrive anyway.”

  I drew power into my Ostriva side, summoning the magic of the dark. Swirls of necromancer magic clouded our area as I decided to repair my minions and bring back those I could.

  Black magic shot out from my core, twisting and snaking to the minions who needed my magic.

  You have chosen to revive thirteen Matogator Minions. 423/255 Mana. Due to a mana shortage, this will cost 168 Zorta. Select (YES) - (NO)

  I didn’t pay the fee. Altering my selection.

  You have chosen to revive eight Matogator Minions. 233/255 Mana. Select (YES) - (NO)

  I selected yes, watching the clouds boil with anger, the distant swarm hesitated, coming no closer as my spell did its magic.

  Recharge 233 Mana for .153 Zorta (YES) - (NO)

  You have chosen to revive five Matogator Minions. 166/255 Mana. Select (YES) - (NO)

  After selecting yes, a second time, the magic became a tornado and the whipping wind blasted cabbage leaves into my face.

  Knowing every second counted, I rapidly shifted my magic.

  I had 8 slots left and there were bodies to fill the ranks.

  I reached out to the orcs on the battlefield, summoning more magic of the dead.

  Boom!

  The thunderous clouds crackled with energy, and I grinned with glee as the bright day turned to a thick night.

  You have connected to one thousand and twelve orcs, twenty-seven goblins, and six hundred trolls. Would you like claim (ALL) (GROUP) (SINGLE)