The Liberomancer [Isekai Progression LitRPG]

As for the rest of Arconia, they thought that indeed, I was some kind of once-in-a-thousand years genius because of the two Rank Three grimoires that I had 'created.' A situation that was made worse (or better, depending on how you looked at it), by my actions during the siege.

Stories of what I had done had already spread far and wide- they were calling me 'The Spider King of Arconia' for the way I had used my summon. It was better than being called the 'Frog Whisperer' but not by much.

No one seemed to mention the part where I had passed out - so it looked like they either didn't care, or had spun it as 'Stefan Dawson had fought with everything he had until he passed out from exhaustion.' It certainly sounded better that way than it had seemed in my head.

The stories of what I had done were embellished every time they were told and retold - there were some people who said that not only had I killed over ten thousand dryads, but that I had done so with a single spell. I thought that the six thousand number that had been thrown about beforehand was already far too generous - but there was little I could do but correct some people. Before you knew it they might be saying that I repelled the entire dryad army on my own.

I guess stories like this always have a way of getting out of hand.

Maybe the Ruler of the Astral Winds could take out ten thousand of them with one spell, but I sure couldn't. Still, a lot of the common folk did not understand Liberomancy that well, only that we were weird people with even weirder powers - so they swallowed such stories, even if they were untrue.

And I suppose that was also why they held no disdain for the Liberomancers- sure, many of them had died, but they must've realized that the casualties would've been far higher if we had not been around. The walls might even have been breached had it not been for our magic that saved the day.

And that was why they treated someone like me- who had contributed quite a bunch, and also jumped into the enemy formation to save a friend, like I was a hero straight out of an epic.

I certainly didn't feel like a hero though- I felt very tired and sore, and my dreams were still filled with shattered memories of the dryad's last assault. The screams, smoke, magic, pain, everything - it all formed a broken, tangled mess in my head as I slept and relived seeing the expressions of people as the light slowly left their eyes along with the general sense of terror that had gripped me during that time.

How did people describe great battles like this?

Glorious? Valiant? Spectacular?

I felt it had been like none of those things - it had been chaotic, oppressive, messy, and horrifying. Back when I was a kid, I had dreams of fighting as a solider or somewhere in a fantasy world, but this had been far removed from those childhood fantasies of mine where everything was clean and easy and once the enemy was defeated peace would instantaneously return to the world.

It was an experience that I would not wish on anyone.

"You've been spending quite a lot of time in front of that mirror," Granny Qi remarked as she passed by. "Finally found a lass who catches your fancy?"

I returned to living with her on some days if it wasn't too busy at the palace, else I tended to sleep at my desk. Even if it was crowded, the rest of her family was always delighted to have me there, and it was comforting to be surrounded by people rather than being all alone.

Also, the city was no longer as congested as before given that a large segment of the population had left to deal with the dryads freeing up some room.

"No," I said, struggling to read what was in the mirror while holding up my translation device and the grimoire in question at the same time. "I'm trying to read this new grimoire that someone came up with."

"And you need the mirror for that?" Granny Qi asked.

"It's written in reverse," I explained. "As in, it's mirrored so you can only read it while standing in front of one."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"That is quite the curious grimoire," she remarked while glancing at the words written on it. "And a lizardman's creation, no less?"

"Yeah," I said. War was usually a time when technological advancements were made, and throughout the siege, although everyone did try to conserve most of their mana, there were those who still tried to experiment. Funnily enough it seems many of them were inspired by me and my invention of [Summon Tyrant Arachnea]. "The lizardman who wrote this said he had a habit of practicing writing in front of a mirror, and one day the thought struck him to write something in reverse. And so, this gives the Rank One skill [Mirrored Slot]."

"Rank One? Why are you so interested in it then?" she asked.

"Because," I started, while adjusting the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time. Granny Qi's mirror was not a full length one and so positioning this grimoire properly was an issue given I had to do it with one free hand, the other one busy holding a translating device. "Its effect is to copy the effect of the slot before it."

It was pointless to use it after a slot that gave a skill or spell, because there was no use to having two slots which gave the same skill or spell. You couldn't even do something like use a once-per-day ability twice if you did so, it would just do nothing.

However, it could copy stat boosts. Which is what everyone was using it for - to use it to copy a mana-raising grimoire to get an extra mana point.

That was useful even to Rank Three Liberomancers, which is why the grimoire in question was being sold like hotcakes. I had only managed to get one through asking the Liberomancer's Guild and thanks to my current reputation.

Speaking of, I also reached out to the guild to ask if I could get a replacement grimoire that gave [Ansoon's Blessing] - they said they could try to arrange for it, though it still might take time.

And there was the issue with paying for it - I could sell the remaining Rank Three grimoire that I had for money, but I still had to pay Granny Qi back for the grimoire she had given me.

Oh well - there was nothing to do but begin writing another grimoire to sell I guess.

Rewards were supposed to be handed out after the war depending on one's contributions, but I wasn't sure how big mine would be, so when I wasn't doing anything else I was writing out Charlotte's Web again as I thought that that particular grimoire would sell rather well since people were already in awe of the combo you could pull off with it.

I tried to help out wherever I could - I knew a very basic healing spell in the form of [Mend Injury] whose use was limited, but it wasn't like it did nothing. Disease was also spreading as you might expect with so many people crowded together in less than ideal conditions, for which [Unicorn's Blessing] came in handy for the sicker ones.

When all else failed, I could always make fish for people.

The real question was what I was going to do next. The siege was over, but the merchant caravan would not be coming again until next year - they had taken a detour bypassing Chipker entirely right now, and I did not want to wait that long.

For old time's sake, I still sometimes went back to the same place where I had first come to this world.

And had gotten no more success than the other few times.

So it didn't look like I had been called to this world just to deal with the dryads. So then, why was I brought here?

Nothing further had been revealed to me during the fighting, so I could only stick to my original plan of leaving to seek the answer elsewhere.

Great Claw looked out towards the horizon, however, he saw no opening that they could use to escape.

The few of them that had managed to escape had scavenged for food, but as they were simply retracing the steps they had taken to get to the human city, it was to no surprise that there was nothing but dust and dirt on the way back.

The bark from his form had already begun wilting, exposing the soft flesh underneath. His walking speed had been cut in half- all from the starvation he had been subjected to.

That would have been acceptable - had they some chance to escape.

But they were caught in between the hills, with the gaps between them overseen by humans and lizardmen. Anyone who tried to go through them would be battered with fire until nothing remained of them.

Behind them was another army mounted atop a steep incline, and the same fate would await them.

Forward or backward, only death awaited them.

To think that he had had visions of glory where he found himself king… and now look what he had been reduced to!

The dryads, when fishing, would simply dip their hands into streams, hoping to grab onto fish. However, he had seen the humans had better ideas- with the use of ropes tied together in the forms of nets to catch fish. He had greatly admired that idea and had hoped to have his brethren implement that at some time- but now it was as if they were the fish that were hopelessly in the clutches of a net.

They were like hunters out to stalk deer, who had suddenly found themselves surrounded by a pack of wolves.

Perhaps everything had been a mistake from the very beginning.

Perhaps they should never have taken the different path to come to this country, and done the same as their ancestors.

Perhaps that shadow had planned this out from the beginning as a way to destroy them.

Perhaps… some of them might live to see the end of this battle, and tell their descendants that coming here was a terrible idea.

For most of them - him included, this was the end.

They should have never come to this country in the first place.