Isekai Magus: A LitRPG Progression Saga

by Han Yang

  She cut off.

  “Caitlyn.”

  Nothing.

  “Caitlyn!”

  This went on for at least ten minutes. Eventually, Tarla dragged me out of the church. The mud was being removed from the base, and the matogator the church was stored on was brought over.

  “You okay?” Tarla asked.

  “I’m trapped on Nordan for now. Earth needs me, but I don’t even know if I could help. Bell needs me, and I may die trying to free her. Most of all, I’m furious that the fucking centaurs assassinated me. The time for the placated nice guy is over. It’s open war on the centaurs,” I boomed.

  I stomped up the ramp, marched across the decking, and headed to the front observation point. When I entered the covered space, the stand reminded me of a deer hunting station.

  Etched into the surface of the front facing table was a map of the area.

  Talking to myself, I said, “If the minotaurs come or Prince Tao adjusts, they’ll come from deep within the Ikara Valley. There’s no cities marked within the Great Herd Plains… meaning I have no idea what we’ll run into. I have to risk it. I must free Bell. I can’t abandon her by bogging down, this area is so vast and these foes are fast. Pushing out of their land rapidly is our best bet.” I rationalized out loud.

  “If I may, Boss,” Asha said, pulling out a charcoal pencil.

  He traced lines heading away from the main camp of the enemy by the lake. This was where the enemy had sent a messenger. Assuming they were too dumb to play tricks by zig zagging while in sight, one of the messengers was going to a spot near the valley but still on the plains.

  Of course, we had no idea where this line intersected with a city or herd, but we did have something in the general direction we were heading.

  “Your orders are to follow that scout, find this force, and report back. We can persist on what the cats hunt.” Asha left, heading to carry out my orders. “Nee?”

  “Yes, Boss,” Nee said.

  “Pilfer what they leave behind, fish the lake with the water mages and then rejoin the main army,” I said decisively. “Yermica, pick up the army. We push south hard. We run.”

  “For Tribe Moonguard,” Yermica said solemnly.

  “For Tribe Moonguard,” we all repeated.

  CHAPTER 67

  The Great Plains

  I carried an unsteady crossbow in my skeletal arms as the damn undead horse thundered in a wild charge.

  Raising the weapon, I sighted a fleeing mare and tried to stabilize my aim.

  The damn crossbow bounced all over the place, and the poor mare huffed with exhaustion. The brindle was a beauty, and I almost felt bad. Almost.

  Snap!

  I fired when I found a nice line of sight on her rear.

  Thunk!

  The mare cried out with a loud neigh of pain. She tumbled in a heap, sending the dusty terrain into a billowing mess. All around me, the scene repeated itself. Undead horsemen shot crossbows into the flanks of fleeing mares.

  I had randomly checked in with Asha earlier that morning, a day after my death, and found his unit staged to attack a caravan. Each of his scouts waited in a thin copse of trees for thirty or so centaurs escorting supplies and breeding stock.

  Something spooked the centaurs, causing them to unleash all the damn mares before the trap could be sprung. Of course, the female horses bolted and hence the need for us to keep them from getting away.

  While Asha and the goblins on matogators fought the magic wielding centaurs, the enemy condensed their defenses. The air crackled with spells and counter spells, raising the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck.

  Fireballs whooshed behind me, and I could feel the wafting heat pushed forward by air magic.

  I reached over my shoulder, my undead warhorse spinning for another mare in a dead run. If shooting was hard, reloading on the move was even harder. A bolt zipped across the distance, sinking into the mare’s guts. When she tumbled, she remained still, likely having broken her neck.

  I spun, seeing magic crashing into the shielding on the scouts. The return magic was stronger, bursting through the centaurs’ defenses. The fight swapped from a contest of magics to a one-sided struggle.

  It became clear that this was not some elite centaur fighting force, especially when a panicked centaur ran right into some undead on the perimeter.

  I yanked on the reins. The horse skidded to a halt, and I finally found the peace to reload my weapon. The moment the weapon locked back with a clack, I kicked the ribs for the five wagons.

  An open flap in the back of a wagon revealed tents. Asha must have found a herd that lost enough males that they were trading excess homes and mares for… gold maybe? I doubted we would find out what the exchange on the other side was for.

  A centaur magically enlarged, glowing red as his frame increased in size. I sighted the berserker who wielded twin great axes. He charged for a matogator, and I waited for our distance to close.

  The goblin scouts tried to bind his legs in ice, but the enhanced centaur burst through the spell.

  A cry for blood belted out of the centaur. The enraged fighter soared in a mighty jump. Both axes cleaved into the matogator, severing the head from the neck.

  The goblins screamed as the collapsing matogator shot them forward from the sudden stop. The berserker before me was amazing. He chopped both goblins in half mid-flight.

  Our distance closed, and I fired my bolt into his human torso. The shot must have hit something vital because one second he cried for more blood, and the next he staggered.

  The berserker spun to face me, blood seeping out of his mouth, his defiance of death waning.

  I pulled the reins, guiding my mount to the right and came to another stop. A lightning bolt smashed down in the spot I would have been. A centaur cursed their luck at my sudden deviation.

  I hastily reloaded, watching the enemy charge another spell. I figured we were in a race, the winner killing the other.

  A lance tip erupted out the front of my foe, and he collapsed. Asha abandoned his lance, riding by the dying centaur. I watched him yank his sword free as I reloaded my crossbow.

  The two of us surged to new targets, our enemy dwindling.

  Whoosh!

  A fireball seared across the distance, smashing into the fleeing centaur I was chasing. The body incinerated from the chest up, an orb instantly appearing over the corpse.

  I glanced around, seeking another target and not finding one. In the distance, a few mares were being chased, my undead minions even ramming them to get them to stop.

  “I got two youth’s here,” a male troll said, riding up to me.

  The matogator pulled the two youths via tethers. Both the younger centaurs’ arms were bound tightly, their legs free to keep pace.

  I held up a hand, asking for a moment as I wrote a note to the troll.

  He accepted my scribbling, giving me a nod before turning to the younger centaurs.

  “Your life for information. Where was this caravan coming from? And why are you selling your most prized possession?”

  “What?” the first lad blurted, staring at the troll like he was a loon.

  The other centaur said, “We’re moving, not selling. Our chieftain died, and most of our herd left for bigger groups so we are heading for the great tribe. We were trying to hurry before the undead army arrived in Teska.”

  The troll glanced at me to see if this was enough information.

  I nodded and slid a thumb across my neck, seeing the duo of teenage boys fight their bindings in panic. Two goblins hustled over until they could stab up and into the centaurs rib cages, repeating the process until orbs appeared.

  Asha returned, eyeing the scene without remorse.

  “The city rests this way, but you’re a day and half away even at a fast march. I’ll collect the orbs, heal the mares, and send them all back to the main army. We’re going to wait for another caravan to pass this ambush point and clean up this mess,” Asha said con
fidently.

  I wrote a new note, handing it to him. He smiled with a small nod of understanding. “I already have a team watching the Teska. One of them is undead. Just travel to that one to get a view. They’re exposed, though, and having to run when pursued.”

  My reply was a thumbs up, and I left this body a moment later.

  My mind’s eye was drawn back toward the main army, but I instead shot down the road, feeling a single connection becoming available.

  The tingling sensation was likely warning me that I had lost a matogator. No hands shook my real body to stir me, so I ignored the message for the moment.

  I found a mounted troll on an undead horse’s saddle beside a skeleton rider. I soared into the skeleton, giving our connection a second to stabilize.

  When I was firmly in control, I clapped and then gestured to where an ear would be on my skeletal head.

  The female troll caught on, clearing her throat. She pointed to the horizon in front of us.

  “These are the farmlands before Teska North. As you can see, it's primarily hay, but there’s some carrots, cabbage, and other vegetables being grown. They’re mid harvest right now, but our coming army has them working twice as hard.

  “Closer to the jungle, you see an extended section of red fruit. Most everything is being harvested by slaves. I’ve seen goblins, trolls, humans, and even dwarves in the mix. We were chased for a few hours until the centaurs tired and realized it would be better to trap up. A few units dashed into the trees, likely coming around to block us in.

  “As for defenses, the large river has been diverted to create moats on both sides. This also helps with irrigation. The problem for the centaurs living in this spread-out city is that the matogators are long enough to hop over their moat and the walls are simple palisades. If I had to guess, this is routinely abandoned, but I see no signs of a recent attack.

  “Again, I’m guessing, but if we march from the north, they cross their bridges, abandon their supplies, and speed south. Doing so before winter would be disastrous, and I suspect there’s at least five thousand centaurs scattered in this area, so they might defend. A loud horn sounded before I showed up. Ever since then, the outer herds have been consolidating.”

  I scanned the horizon, viewing large farm fields with scattered storage points. The fields transitioned into a massive section of spread out housing behind a fence that barely stood six feet tall. If I had to guess, they wanted to pen in the mares, not create some indefensible fortification.

  The river flowed from the jungle and into the plains, likely winding to the lake we passed yesterday. A few hundred armored centaurs watched us, watching them.

  I pondered our recent gains. We had snagged some decent cooking gear, a sharpening wheel, and a few other odd items by forcing the other centaur city to flee.

  This Teska had far more roots, meaning a hasty retreat would be costly. I constantly glanced around at the jungle, not seeing the centaurs’ flanking force exiting.

  I scribbled a note. When the troll read my message, she gazed at me in confusion.

  “Boss, that’s suicide.”

  I gave her a thumbs up.

  “Thanks for doing it yourself, Boss. For Tribe Moonguard,” she said, spinning her horse to return to the army.

  “For Tribe Moonguard,” I replied, and she nodded, seeing my words without hearing them.

  The clomp of her undead horse faded as she trotted north.

  I watched the city, none of the residents preparing to flee.

  A fight was brewing. I could feel it in my gut. The centaurs wanted to defend their farms that had only started being harvested. I wanted to claim the food to supplement my growing horde. We’d cleanse these fields like locusts, and I highly doubted the centaurs could stop us.

  Unless… they had an ace up their sleeve. Which I would be hiding in the jungle. To check my suspicions, I followed my troll scout north before cutting towards the jungle. As expected, the distant centaurs immediately shifted in a line to cut me off, not wanting me to inspect the jungle.

  I had to angle my entry further north, pushing my undead steed at a full run, something the centaurs couldn’t match. If I was the tribe master, that would have been my first sign that we should retreat. An enemy faster than you required an ambush, superior numbers, and or skill to defeat.

  The chase was on. I pushed my mount for at least two hours. The entire time, the gap between us grew.

  When we slid into the jungle, the canopy blotted out the sun, leaving my vision to mostly adapt to a dark green hue.

  While I pondered why the centaurs weren’t preparing to flee, I took in the surrounding jungle.

  Clearly, my cat army hadn’t been through here yet; squirrels, birds, and even a dozen deer bolted from my hurried pace.

  When I dove in deep enough, I turned south, knowing to expect the unexpected. Moving through the thick underbrush created a racket. I didn’t slow, though. My goal had never been stealth.

  I did carry my sword at the ready, hacking and slashing my way south.

  Time melded together in one long moment as the colorful jungle whipped by. In a few instances, the warhorse slowed, navigating a drop-off or trotting around a rock. The entire journey, I never saw any of the centaurs that were sent to pursue me.

  An hour became two, and two probably became four.

  The horse slowed, shaking its head as if danger loomed ahead.

  I left the saddle, patting the rump of the horse. My real body said, “Return to me with haste. Do not stop to fight.”

  When the horse bolted north, I heard a war cry and quickly tucked myself into a random tree's base.

  The palm offered almost no hiding, but I quickly chopped a bush free of its roots to cover myself with.

  A stampede of lidka crashed through the forest, chasing my mount needlessly.

  “Get back here, fools. You’re being paid to guard the Prince, not rush off after some jungle creature,” a human voice scolded.

  Well, shit. I tucked myself in, lowering my silhouette as the lidka walked back in my direction.

  The lidka sniffed, trying to scent out whatever had made the noise they had heard.

  “Undead… I smell undead,” the gravely lidka voice said.

  “Nordan, speak in Nordan, dumb ape,” the human said.

  “We’re not apes,” a different lidka replied in fluent Nordanese. “We’ve been scouted by the undead.”

  “Six hells,” the human fumed, fading away. “Let me see Prince Tao.”

  I waited, hearing a tent flap moving, the sound only barely audible over the roar of the nearby river. The scout had a bandoleer of daggers across his boney chest, and I ever so slowly returned my sword to its scabbard.

  I extracted the two daggers and darted north, running further away from the campsite. I shifted left, going deeper into the jungle. When I turned south again, I did so with each step becoming a tedious chore to stay stealthy.

  I found a nice fruit tree with some sort of pomegranate growing on it. I climbed up, carefully ascending until I reached the top. Unfortunately, the tree didn’t go high enough to give me a clear view. I did see a few hundred small fires sputtering out smoke on the south side of the river.

  Hope filled my heart. Hope that Bell was there and within my grasp. Sure, I’d be fighting against three to one odds, but I could probably do enough damage to win. A pyrrhic win for me was a disaster to them.

  I had to be sure. I did notice only one camp fire rested on the north side, and that was likely where I stumbled upon the Prince’s camp.

  But why was he away from his army?

  My lingering gaze and patience paid off. A golden dragon burst out of the trees, hastily flying for the south.

  That hope, that bit of joy faded when the Prince fled southwest. He went in the exact direction his army should be going. I watched him soar away, feeling dejected.

  I moped my way down the tree, falling the last bit and landing with a slight thump.

  When
my skeletal feet scuffed jungle floor, I returned my daggers to their bandoleer.

  Knowing this skeleton was likely doomed by my actions, I sprinted hard to the sounds of the river. To my ears, I signaled a loud charge that the entire world could hear, but likely the river drowned out most of the noise.

  I crashed through the bush until I ran out and over an embankment. Shit.

  Splash!

  For a brief second, the reality of the situation was confirmed. Lidka in the hundreds rested on the southern bank. The prince had bribed another army to hunt me. It was likely a last-ditch effort.

  I sunk into the river, the current drifting me downstream. The heavy metal on my body let me find the riverbed. I stepped up river rocks, going south. I yanked out two blades, ready to stab whatever lurking river monster assailed my.

  When I walked up the shore without an attack, I was mildly surprised. The moment my skeleton’s head breached the water, I halted.

  I scanned the enemy.

  I saw young lidka, smaller than the variation I had fought when I captured Mini. At least a thousand. The army was building bridges. As of right now, only a single narrow bridge connecting the spot where the Prince had camped down the river.

  Their ploy had been discovered. This army was supposed to cross the river and smash my flank if I had to guess.

  I retreated into the depths, walking further into the jungle along the river. The current fought me each step, but I needed a good count on how many lidka were here.

  I could feel my feet going four steps forward and one back. I pressed on, stealing glimpses during short breaches. Eventually, I noticed no one watching the river and stayed above water. My inner skull happened to be a great water catch.

  An hour passed. I walked deeper into the jungle via the river for about an hour. My scouting revealed at least a few thousand lidka stretching in that direction. The fires went for miles to the east until the city fires emitted trails.

  Six hells. Instead of ten thousand humans, there were at least ten thousand lidka backing up the centaurs. I knew something, though, something that Prince Tao also realized. There were two Ostriva armies around with no single leader.