The Liberomancer [Isekai Progression LitRPG]

"Come sit with me," Granny Qi said. "And let's have lunch."

While we ate, she began talking about the times she had visited the waterfall before.

"We were coming back from the city, my family and I, after selling some of our wares. I had been very excited to see Arconia for the first time, though as we left, a storm suddenly came out of nowhere and hit us. We all ran for shelter, but in the confusion I got lost, and while searching for the rest of my family I ended up far away from the trail, until I got to this clearing," she explained. "By then the rain had stopped, and I saw him sitting over there."

She pointed to a certain spot on the other side of the stream. "It had rained, so naturally he was as drenched as I was, the paper he had brought along with him was soaked and soggy, and the ink was no longer usable. As you can imagine, he was in a bit of a sour mood when I first came upon him. As for me, I had never seen a waterfall do something like this before, so my curiosity overcame what I should have been thinking - which was the quickest way I could go back home. I asked him why the waterfall flowed this way, and he said, 'magic.' Upon seeing me, he noticed I was cold and shivering - of course I was, I was still soaked, and he made a small fire with magic and said I was free to warm up."

"I asked him if he had been the one to create the waterfall - in those days I didn't know a lick about Liberomancy and didn't realize that it was impossible for someone at his level to do something like that, and he shook his head. 'I don't know why it flows backwards, I don't see a source,' he said to me. Rather casually I said, 'Perhaps it flows backwards because it's meant to?' I meant nothing profound by it at the time, but it seemed to resonate with him and he grabbed his brush, using the other end to etch out letters in the mud. And he succeeded too - back in those days he still struggled with writing some of the larger and more complex words, but he was able to string together something that worked. He thanked me and offered to lead me back to the trail, which is where I was reunited with my family. Before I went on my way though, he asked us where we lived."

"You can imagine my shock when he showed up at our doorstep a week later," she continued. "He wanted to thank me for helping him write his first original grimoire, and handed me some coins. I felt that he had already repaid my 'kindness' if you could call it that by guiding me back to the trail - looking back though its a wonder that we didn't get attacked somewhere along the way. This trail wasn't as safe back in the day as it is now. He had come here to this place because he thought he might get some inspiration, but, 'I got my inspiration from you instead!' he said to me. That day, he told me his name - Hei Nan."

She got up and approached the stream, staring at that spot she had pointed to, as if she could still see him with her mind's eye, sitting there working on a grimoire just like he had all those years back.

She then sat back down, tears gently streaming down her face. "That was the first time I had laid eyes upon him - if only I had known how lucky I was! Not a day has gone by since he passed away when I haven't missed him…" She wiped her tears away on her sleeve. She had a very calm expression now as she lay down on the grass. "We spent many more days here by this waterfall after that time. We came here for our wedding anniversary countless times. It's been a while since I last came here, however. I… wanted to see this place one last time before I passed away."

She gently closed her eyes, looking like she was now completely at peace.

I, on the other hand, was freaking out. "Wait! Granny Qi! You can't give up now!"

She opened her eyes and gave me a confused look, annoyed by how alarmed I sounded. "What are you going on about?"

"Oh… I thought you uh, well, I just meant to say that uh, yeah! You can always come back here in the future too! I don't think this is going to be your last visit here!" I said, changing the topic mid-sentence.

I was worried there for a second that she had passed away - thank god that hadn't happened!

I wouldn't be able to forgive myself should something happen to her while I was still around.

She nodded. "I suppose you're right - but who knows what the future holds? I wanted to see this waterfall one last time at the very least, so that even if I die tomorrow, I won't have any regrets."

As she lay there on the grass, eyes closed, I could almost make out the outline of a young girl standing near the water's edge just by her, clothes completely drenched from the rainwater.

If this place meant so much to Granny Qi, I was glad that I could help her come here. In my mind, it didn't even come close to repaying the immense kindness she had shown me, but it was the least I could do.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

As it was, I couldn't see any future for me here in Arconia. What I was looking for - a way back home, didn't seem to be here. Which meant that I would need to go looking for it, somewhere beyond this place.

Keeping that matter aside; there still remained the fact that even with my new status as a Master Liberomancer, things were not all peachy in the city because matters between the humans and lizardmen hadn't fully simmered down yet.

Hopefully, I would find greener pastures and maybe even a passage back to Earth somewhere beyond the horizon.

It was time for me to leave the country of the lizardmen.

A short, stocky man by the name of Walter trudged through the streets of the capital of Meloukas. He was waddling around like a bowling pin just about to be knocked over, and was holding in a large burp.

"Ah, I've gone and drank too much again," he mumbled to himself.

He worked as a scribe in one of the bookstores set up by the merchant caravan, and this would be the last day they would be here in the capital. That was why he was so drunk - he had figured to himself, 'we're leaving and I won't get access to good cheap booze for a while so why not drink as much as I can?' though he had clearly overdone it.

They would be heading for Hitutsa next, and he needed to be ready in the morning to help his shop pack up and leave. That would be hard as he was sure that he would soon be nursing an awful hangover, but there was no going back in time to stop himself from drinking.

"Eh?" he said. He found himself in an unfamiliar alleyway, though he was not a native to this city so understandably, it was rather easy for him to get lost.

He also thought he had heard something moving behind him, but when he turned around there was nothing there.

He really was drunk…

He moved forward glacially, looking for anything that was a familiar landmark so he could find his way back to the store where he worked.

As he turned a corner, someone suddenly grabbed him from behind, and before he knew it he was pinned to the ground with a cold blade tickling his neck.

"Don't scream. Don't move," a voice said to him. It was a male voice, though Walter didn't think that he'd ever heard it before.

Walter nodded - he was Rank Two Liberomancer, but in this scenario, his assailant could easily slit his throat before he could fully form a coherent thought to use any of the spells in his repertoire, especially given how drunk he was. Also, unfortunately, he didn't have any spells that could guarantee his safety in this scenario. "What do you want? My money's in my wallet-"

"Shut up!" the voice said, and the pressure on Walter's back increased. "You'll talk only when I ask a question! Where did you get this?"

A piece of paper was waved in front of Walter's face.

Walter took a moment to recognize what he was looking at. It was a grimoire written with letters he had not seen before.

"You were selling this in your store. Where did you get it from?" the voice demanded.

Right… Walter strained his mind to remember… "This one raises mana…"

"I know that, idiot! But where did you get it from? Who is the author?" There was no author's name written on the grimoire, only the seal of the shop they had bought it from.

"That's a seal from Chipker," Walter said, his mind racing. "Right… this one was from Arconia…"

"Chipker? That's lizardmen country - I know a human wrote this! Don't you dare lie to me!" the voice barked, the knife digging infinitesimally deeper into Walter's skin.

"Ah… I don't know… I think we bought it from the store owner and one of their scribes might've been human… please, I don't know any more than that…" Walter whimpered.

Walter's assailant said nothing, but a moment later the feeling of cold steel on his neck vanished and he groggily got up.

Walter looked down - he had wet himself, but there was no sign or trace of the person who had attacked him.

By the time he had somewhat come to his senses as the alcohol wore off and finally returned to the bookstore, he went to find another copy of the grimoire that person had been talking about, wondering why anyone would be so fascinated by it to the point of threatening to kill him.

Sure, it gave a point to mana, but at the same time, no one he had met up till now had been able to replicate it meaning it was useless if you wanted it for that purpose.

Not to mention there were easier ways to get a grimoire that would raise mana rather than traveling all the way down to Chipker - you wouldn't do that just for a single Rank One grimoire!

"Sonnet 95," he said, reading the title with the help of a translation device. He still couldn't remember who the author was who had written this, though the person that had assaulted him had been extremely interested in that piece of information.

Walter did recall that they had bought it from a lizardman shop; he was certain of that now. He had only met the shop owner and its manager before sealing the deal, though neither of them claimed to have written it themselves.

Yet, despite it being a lizardmen bookstore the person who had attacked him had been strangely certain that a human was the author of this grimoire. Would a lizardmen shop really employ a human? It was not impossible, but practically unheard of as per Walter's own experience. It was the natural tendency of intelligent living creatures to prefer the company of those who resembled them after all.

Walter reported the attack, but unfortunately, the city authorities failed to find the culprit and the merchant caravan was soon on its way and had left the city. What were the concerns of someone like Walter compared to the needs of the massive merchant caravan that almost functioned like it was a single massive organism in and of itself?

For his part, Walter was more careful in the future and did not get drunk unless he was in wherever they set up their bookstore.

"Sonnet 95," he would often repeat the title to himself, resolving to find the author of the grimoire once they returned to Arconia.