Isekai Magus: A LitRPG Progression Saga Page 3

  “Wow, you answered me. Normally you just point. Have you given up your quest to die with your wife?” the girl asked.

  Talk about a shitty quest. Whoever issued that one should be avoided.

  I shook my head.

  She grew bored of me and went the wrong way to find her dead pet. “Sprinkles, where are you?” she shouted over and over.

  If I ever got a horse, it was so getting named Sprinkles. Maybe then I’d feel less shitty for killing her rabbit and lying to her.

  I walked into the village a bit aimlessly, not sure what to do next. I wanted a map, some food, and some Zorta if I could buy it.

  CHAPTER 3

  Nordan - Old man’s village

  Her Toned Tummy

  The wall consisted of trees buried deeply into the soil. Between each trunk, air passed through freely and a basic simplicity spoke volumes to the needs of these people.

  The defenses lacked a parapet or a moat. Hell, the old man’s hut was out in the open and only a single watchtower stood atop a church. I doubted these people fought mythical minions on the regular.

  A bored teenager gazed down from his perch in the church tower. He saw me but didn’t spare my approach a second glance. At least as the old man I went unnoticed.

  My entire life had been with eyes on me. Dashing good looks, a naturally bulky frame, and piercing blue eyes meant I garnered attention everywhere I went, until now.

  Gritty loose soil crunched under my calloused feet. Below the dried nasty coating, river stones created a decent path that saw little use.

  I crossed an entry gate devoid of a guard. Clearly this village wasn’t concerned about security.

  My arrival sent a few birds into flight, enjoying a light breeze on the early morning day.

  The interior of the village reminded me of a scene from a fantasy movie. Most of the one-story buildings were in decent repair.

  The main road went straight toward another opening in the wall on the other side of the village. In the center of the town, a well sat in front of a large church.

  Directly off the road, the village's businesses operated with a few patrons mulling about. On the outskirts of the village, homes rested tightly together near the wall.

  A nearby kiln or smithy forge belched a long trail of billowing black smoke. The scent of cooking dough told me it was likely for bread. Each storefront contained a small balcony, creating a wooden sidewalk for folks to use on a rainy day.

  A dozen people walked the strip, and a vendor had some fruit out front a few stores down.

  The first thing I noticed about the populace was the age. Sure, they all wore crummy clothing of mostly hide, and certainly needed to bathe more, but, none were old or even over the hill.

  This told me a lot. If a bunny extended a life by two days, what would those two thousand wolves give? Whatever process these villagers used to keep the Zorta flowing to remain vibrant worked.

  I passed a bar or saloon.

  Or was it a watering hole in this age? Probably an inn. Yeah there’s doors on in the alley on the building’s side.

  A young woman rested against a pillar supporting an overhang. Her lean midriff laid bare, exposing her Nordan orb next to smooth skin.

  She caught me eyeing her belly and smirked with a pristine set of teeth. It was clear what she was selling with her mini-skirt and cropped, see-through top. I leered at her shapely figure, clearly still willing to find a woman lovely even after my interactions with the Temptress.

  I walked by, avoiding running into a pillar, and headed to the fruit vendor. A tiered stand displayed odd alien fruits in front of a younger man.

  “Ah. Healer Toneba, a single fruit for healing this scar?” he asked.

  I eyed him with a squint. Not because he deserved a scornful eye, but because my eyesight was shit. I tried to find this scar he wanted fixed.

  “Ten,” I countered sourly.

  “Ten what?” the man said. “Hey Larina, get this. Old man Toneba just spoke.”

  A woman from across the road left her rocking chair, dusting off an apron. “Ya don’t say. Whatcha hear, Parni?”

  “He countered my healing needs with ten. Only damn healer in leagues, and I finally get an offer. Woulda accepted a hundred, this damn scar always itches,” the man said, sticking a raw wound in front of my face.

  The old man’s memories of how to heal returned to me. I braced my weight, leaning into the walking stick. My right hand hovered over the raised, angry festering.

  “Apply healing,” I muttered.

  My palm sent gentle waves of green illumination. The display held an extra vibrance since we rested in the shade. The angry scar with scratch marks faded until only smooth flesh remained.

  I reached into my robes and tapped my orb. The two astonished people jabbered while I checked my stats.

  Mana: 7

  Mana Recharge: 1

  Time to Mana Replenishment: 2 days 14 hours.

  “Thank the great god Tew, you healed my scar. It’s a miracle!” Parni exclaimed, jumping.

  When he landed, his feet created a loud report against the wooden boards.

  Others noticed his commotion, coming over to see what the fuss was about. I grabbed a green fruit with a casing similar to an orange. When I peeled the fruit back, the woman asked for the exterior.

  I ate greedily, fruit juices dripping down my face and chin. I devoured the delicious fruit and even licked my fingers after the delightful treat.

  “Let me get you a water,” Parni said, dumping out a cup.

  He filled the wooden cutout with fresh water and handed it to me.

  I drank in big gulps, feeling better.

  I handed him the cup back and again touched my orb.

  Hunger: 3

  Thirst: 0

  Aging: 4 day 16 hours until death.

  I let out a relieved sigh. Staying young wasn’t going to be an issue if you had a minimal intake of Zorta combined with food and water. I just needed to increase that number until I wasn’t an ancient man anymore.

  If only rolling back time were easy.

  “Can I get a mole removed?” Larina asked eagerly. “I can pay.”

  Murmurs from the growing crowd increased. The words on everyone’s lips - ‘old man Toneba was healing folks.’

  “That’s enough, give the man space,” a commanding voice boomed.

  A man the size of a tree parted the villagers. His eyes glared down at me with malice, and he certainly let me know he was not happy.

  “The mayor sounds angry again, here we go,” a random voice said, telling me I was dealing with the local leader.

  “What are you doing, Toneba?” he demanded.

  “I awoke missing my memories. An old lady’s picture sat on my end table. Was she special?” I asked, hoping to ease his anger.

  He softened and said, “We told you not to push your limits. Nordan needs every healer it’s got. Did ya listen? Nope. Stubborn as an ox Darnbi used to say to us. The woman was yer wife.”

  “I - I - I I’m sorry. What happened to her?” I asked.

  The crowd didn’t disperse, finding our exchange far more fruitful than whatever their day had yielded prior.

  He clamped a meaty hand onto my bony shoulder and said, “She was an ice mage. One of great renown. You were her healer who refused to take a life, any life. She died during an expedition, and you resurrected her. That night your party was captured, and you were imprisoned.

  “The story goes that you traded your freedom to bring back a centaur’s baby. They honored the deal, and you fled to Tarb. You raised an army with your funds, risked a blizzard, and entered the dungeon of centaurs. When the vile beings were cleared, your love was missing. You spent the next thirty years trying to find her only to grow old from your gentle nature and hate of Z.

  “Which leads to me needing to yell at my people here in a moment. Unless… Are you the reason there is a crying little girl in the mayor’s office? I get sad seeing my daughter sobbing into t
he fur of her dead pet.”

  I rapidly shook my head and said, “No idea what you’re talking about. I need a map and to buy some Zorta.”

  He let out a big exhale through his nose and lowered his lips to my ear. “If you take the blame, I’ll get you a ride to Tarb. It’s a city where you can buy Z. No one calls it Zorta besides the divine or the confused.”

  I gulped, and he nodded.

  “I didn’t do it, but I can take the blame,” I said quietly.

  “Perfect, and yer a healer,” he said, removing his lips from whispering range. “So, if they want a punishment, you’ll be fine.”

  He shooed back the crowd, spreading his arms.

  “Sprinkles died from old man Toneba. He fell and hit the rabbit’s head. He hit his head too,” the mayor proclaimed in a boisterous voice. A few chuckled at this. None seemed outraged. “He’s offered to pay for a new Sprinkles and leave our village to become young again. Finally, we will have a healer to fix wounds quicker than natural regeneration and to mend scars. Do we accept or reject his offered atonement proposal?”

  “I want my mole gone,” the woman from earlier said. “Mayor Rexa, we need a healer. I vote the silver.”

  I wanted to thank her but, drat, I forgot her name.

  The clamoring of the villagers rang loud as they deliberated. Five minutes later, the mayor held out an open hand to me, clearly wanting his palm greased.

  “It seems they’re in a forgiving mood. A single silver,” Rexa said.

  I tucked my walking staff into the nook of my arm, hiding my surprise at seeing bloody fur on the tip. My forearm quickly rubbed it clean, and I extracted my coin purse.

  With a quick untying leather bag’s strings undid and revealed a purse filled with a few gold pieces but mostly silver and some bronze coins. I had no clue what a silver coin was worth, but it seemed wise to forfeit one.

  The mayor accepted the coin and hoisted it high in the air. Rexa wrapped a muscled arm around my shoulder and said, “Follow me.”

  I opened my mouth for a witty retort but clamped it shut quickly. This didn’t seem like the right moment to be a smartass.

  I walked with the man, realizing I had left behind fruit owed to me. “The fruit guy owes me fruit,” I said, grumbling at the very basic statement. “Pargri. I think.”

  “Close, old man. It’s Parni. You’ve known him for decades and helped birth his children. Apparently, all your memories are gone now. We warned you about pushing your natural limits on that damn death timer,” Rexa said in a sad tone. “If you’re not back by the next moon, I’ll give your hut away, but Toneba, please come back.”

  I followed him along the main road, heading for the other exit out of the small village. People eyed our progress with disgruntled looks. I don’t think they cared about the bunny. They were upset about me leaving.

  I could only imagine how many folks wanted to use the healer who had rejected their offers for some time. However, none of them challenged the massive man.

  We walked beyond the final building and passed outside the walls.

  Beyond the walls, a young woman about half the size of Rexa stood waiting on a cart with a mare in front of it. The duo rested beside a large farm field that transitioned into a looming forest of gloom.

  Trees towered hundreds of feet tall, and I understood why there was a wall on this side of the village. A few storage shacks rested among the farm fields, and a lumber mill processed trees. Well, men outside cleared branches and sawed planks.

  “Desra, darling. Toneba lost his memories, but, big but here, he’s healing again,” Rexa said happily.

  “Thank Tew. About damn time you ornery man. Six and a half years with birthing scars that you created and then refused to fix. Bullshit I… Why’s he staring at me blankly?” Kersa asked.

  “He says he forgot his memories and based on his behavior, I believe him. I think he knows his death timer is low and is finally going to Tarb to become young again. His lifetime of wealth is going to be used finally. I found him healing for supplies for the trip. You got enough for two?” Rexa asked.

  “No… Wait, let me check. Yes, in fact, there’s barely enough. Not like he needs to eat much,” Desra said, sorting through a bag.

  The back of the cart sat filled with a bunch of yellow sticks, each about six feet long. Rexa pointed to the pile for me to sit. When I tried to board the back of the cart, he hoisted me up like a babe.

  I grumbled, but thanked him nonetheless.

  “Can you last three days?” Rexa asked.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  He shook his head. “Get out of town, recover your strength, and then heal these good people.”

  “Never got a map,” I muttered.

  “Whatcha needin a map for?” Desra all but blurted.

  “What’s the name of this village?” I asked.

  Rexa chuckled and said, “Yew Wood. What you’re sitting on. We harvest and supply Tarb with yew wood for arrows. Desra’s in charge. Mind her or pay the price.”

  “So, no map?” I asked.

  He frowned, leaving me to kiss his wife goodbye. The two exchanged a few words in private. A minute or two later, the mare clomped forward with a slow trot.

  The wheels creaked, a slight breeze whipped my dry skin, and Rexa waved goodbye as we rolled away from Yew Wood.

  CHAPTER 4

  Nordan - Err Forrest

  The mare’s walk reminded me of a zombie. Her endless strain monotonous in its constant repetition. I grew bored and curious about this journey.

  “How come you’re making the trip alone?” I asked.

  This earned me an over the shoulder sneer.

  Desra snickered and said, “I’m a fire mage, not a princess. Plus, if I take a team, the riffraff never show themselves.”

  My eyebrows raised for a few reasons.

  I had assumed since the setting was medieval, the society would follow that structure. Women in the gloomy forest tended to be easy prey and normally had an escort. Or so I would have guessed, apparently incorrectly.

  The tall canopy of the trees we navigated by did provide ample ambush points. A few birds watched us wheel by, but for the most part, the trip had been uneventful.

  “Interesting. I take it the route is fairly safe,” I said with an intrigued tone. “Besides for these riffraff. What are those?”

  Her tone became slightly hostile. “Small roaming stravians.”

  “What are those?” I asked.

  “What’s your deal?” she asked accusingly, glaring at me from over her shoulder.

  I shimmied to lay down the best I could on top of the collected yew wood. My body hated the endeavor, proving getting old sucked.

  “I woke up confused and alone somewhere unexpected,” I said and sighed. “My deal is I need Z.”

  “Welcome back to the real world we’ve all been living in for the last fifty years,” Desra said with a scoff. “What do you remember?”

  “Another life I had in a dream,” I said, lying and telling the truth at the same time. “So, fifty years since the great mist swapped parts of the planets?”

  “Were you a philosopher in this dream life?” she asked.

  “Umm… yeah, I guess you could say that. Certainly wasn’t a healer. My life was simple, filled with books, and boring. The highlight of my job was finding a new word of the day. Anyway, I used my looks for excitement,” I said, confiding in her.

  She snickered and then burst into laughter. “Yeah, certainly not what Toneba would say. This philosopher who liked to party, did he have a name?”

  “Yeah, Damien. Just a dream, though. I saw a church and heard reference to a god named Mew,” I said.

  “Tew, not Mew. Ta-woo. A forester god. Wise, calm, and understanding. Worthy of donating Z to his altar,” Desra said.

  “Do the gods compete for blessings?” I asked.

  Desra nodded, slowing the mare. “You bet your old ass they do. That’s all they want, and you’ll hear of random gifts b
lessing some warrior. Then all the other warriors go and pay homage and donate. The god likely uses a costly spell in hopes of a better payout.

  “Just a guess, though. Hey, I gotta pee. You can sit in the front with me since you’re not a drab, grumpy asshole like I usually transport.”

  The mare stopped, and she hopped down, quickly squatting over the grass. She peed right in front of me. I scoffed, caught unprepared for the shocking display, and she found this humorous. Alright, maybe I was in medieval times.

  “You’ve delivered four of my children, daft man,” Desra said, and I frowned. I went to object and she huffed, “Right, no memory of that. Face away then, idjit.”

  A moment later, she jumped back into the driver’s bench beside me. With a giggle, she wiped her hands on my robe.

  “Hey, not cool,” I said.

  “Obviously, it's a warm spring day,” she said with a smirk, snapping the reins. “Let me pretend you're not Toneba to help the next few days pass. Rexa doesn’t let men accompany me alone often.”

  The mare went right back into her walk, not missing a beat. Her motions lulled me into a yawn.

  “What was your ‘Damien life’ like?” she asked. “In this hypothetical dream.”

  “Um, my dream life. Young, brash, and confident were the words I used to describe myself to others. I grew up as an only child - spoiled with love. My parents were poor, our home was a one-bedroom apartment, and I slept on a couch that turned into a bed.

  “I got a job, graduated school and my parents died suddenly. I moved out and into a smaller apartment with a tiny room. I tended to be a quiet recluse when I wasn’t trying to find a nice gal to have sex with,” I said.

  Desra smiled and replied, “How many children?”

  “Oh, uh, none that I know about,” I said with a shrug. “Why didn’t I heal your scars?”

  She sputtered her lips in frustration. After Desra eyed me with a sour, squinted glare. The mother, and who should be over seventy, held no crow’s feet; instead her skin was silky smooth.

  “I violated the natural order. I shouldn’t be having children as a grandmother who appeared no older than twenty-five, but I did,” she said with a sigh.