Tower mage a litrpg isek.., p.1
Tower Mage: A LitRPG Isekai Fantasy (The Nine Magics Book 1), page 1
TOWER MAGE
A LITRPG ISEKAI FANTASY
DAVID BURKE
Copyright © 2022 by Royal Guard Publishing LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. References to real people, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
CONTENTS
1. Daydreaming
2. Rude Awakenings
3. Royal Greetings
4. The Hunt!
5. Integration
6. Acceptance
7. Oh, That’s Why Your Boobs are Huge
8. Math
9. Direction
10. Oh Hell Yes!
11. To War!
12. Nocturnal
13. Divinity
14. Journeys
15. Decisions, Decisions
16. Uh, What?
17. What a Dick!
18. Mingle
19. Amass
20. The Champion
21. What in Tarnation
22. A Throne of Blood
23. Crossroads
24. The Return
25. About That
26. Stroll in the Woods
27. A Funeral Birth
28. Nuwa
29. Stacked Deck
30. Out of the Kettle, into the Fire
31. Patience, My Student
32. Till Death or do I Part the Shrezen
33. Death Soiree!
34. Don’t Tread on Hexen
35. Say Hello to my Big Friend
36. Pyrrhic Victory
37. A Trade
Afterword
For More LitRPG Content…
To Learn More…
CHAPTER 1
DAYDREAMING
2025 – FAYETTEVILLE, ARKANSAS
An odd reflection in the storefront glass caught my gaze. When my eyes focused, the horrific image disappeared with the marbled floors overlaid on the clean store window.
Was that a red eyed demon?
I grunted with a headshake, knowing it was my mind playing tricks on me. After a long sip of my smoothie, I continued to stare out the storefront, reliving the glory days of earning a decent wage.
Cars zoomed by on a distant road, but my mind was fixated firmly on the vast expanse of the ocean. I sucked in the pretend smell of salty air. Those endless waves held a hypnotic sway over me. In reality, someone on a bike waited to cross the nearby intersection. I wished for my shift to be over more than anything else in the world. At least I had a pleasant view, even if business wasn’t what I would have hoped it would be.
The sudden ring of the store’s phone startled me out of my daze.
I lifted the outdated cellphone to my ear and said, “Marty’s phone, tablet, and all things digital repair shop, Rico speaking.”
A distraught mother told me their child had dropped a cellphone into a toilet and rambled about how it was supposed to be waterproof. I yawned, not because the story wasn’t interesting, but because I’d been so darn zoned out. I felt half asleep. While she droned on, I walked around to wake up a bit and noticed I’d somehow missed a moving truck in front of the empty store next door.
Eventually, the mother hung up because some new emergency was unfolding in her house filled with toddlers. I hoped she’d bring her device in. I liked kids and was desperate for anything to pass the time.
I reverted to daydreaming about my prior years. I was far too young for the best days of my life to already be in the rearview mirror. There was something ironic in the fact that I relived my days as a mercenary to help me get through my days as a techie because the roles used to be reversed. For about five years after college, I sat aboard ships sailing the dangerous seas, eager to be a hotshot corporate man with a nice window view.
The mercenary orientation proclaimed that life would be lived on a knife’s edge with danger around every corner…
Wrong, oh so wrong.
Pirates never tried to hijack the vessels I guarded, and there was zero action. I literally sat on a ship for years watching the water. And yes, I would daydream about being back in America where there were pretty gals, bars to kill the boredom, and well, solid ground.
When I quit, I ran into the hard reality that a degree in accounting with the work experience of a hired gun clashed on a resume.
Shocker.
Instead of living with my mom, I got a basement studio, a shitty job after a hundred applications, and wished I were back on a ship so I could have money in the bank again. I met a cute girl, and we kept it casual and kinky with her guarding her heart. The problem was, we’d fuck then kinda… just sit there with no connection. It turns out that no matter how amazing the sex is, that isn’t enough for a long-term relationship.
Darcy eventually moved due to a promotion. I honestly wasn’t sad to see her go, even if I tried to tell myself I was. It helped me come to terms with the fact I needed to leave. I hated my crummy job, and Fayetteville blew worse than a squall in the Atlantic. There was already an offer to go back to working for Secure with a Breeze, and I was seriously considering it. This time, I wouldn’t have college debt to pay off, and I’d save my earnings. Also, I’d promised myself no more investing into cryptocurrencies.
At least that was what my daydreams were saying. In another five years, I’d be a king on land, and I’d do it right this time. The moving truck rumbled down the street with the driver giving me a wave. A friendly nod was my reply as I watched the big truck disappear into the intersection traffic.
“Huh, I coulda sworn there was still a for-rent sign this afternoon,” I muttered to myself.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time; it was a half an hour to six, and I wouldn’t close until eight. For an empty shop with no clients - that was an eternity. While patience was an attribute of mine, I was also curious.
Fuck it, time to pass some time with an investigation.
After grabbing my work phone, I headed to the front door and pulled it open. That damn bell rang, and for the hundredth time, I wished I could tear it off.
Stepping into the empty parking section, I saw a few cars lined up out front of what used to be an empty store. Based on the flashing sign, it was an oriental spiritual shop. I chuckled at the notion of someone opening such a specialty shop while I locked the door.
Yeah, good luck. This is Arkansas, not Manhattan. Finding enough loons to buy trinkets to ward off spirits or whatever is likely going to be an impossible task.
With my curiosity sated, I hesitated to go back in due to the fresh air. A glint of reflected light beamed into my eye, causing me to suddenly halt. For a minute there, I thought I saw that demon again.
What the fuck is going on?
I expected to see some kid aiming a gong to reflect the light, or maybe a laser pointer aimed in my direction. When my vision cleared, I glanced around like a confused meme while trying to find the culprit. After a couple of spins, I came up empty and figured it had to be from inside the news shop.
I stepped closer to the display window. Sometimes a single step is all it takes.
At first, my perplexed reflection demanded attention. Long blond hair to my chin lay in a nested mess. I always wore it down or tight to my skull, never in a man-bun. Steely blue eyes shone with a clean nose and cleft chin. Getting laid was never a problem for me. It was finding one worth keeping around that wasn’t easy.
I glanced beyond my image to see odd trinkets perched on shelves waiting to be bought by some sucker. I had no idea what any of this junk was supposed to do. Then again with mysticism that was probably the point.
Shrugging it off, I shifted to unlock my store’s door when I squinted with a flinch.
That same damn beam of light blasted my eyes again. Without a doubt, it had come from the inside of the new store.
“Alright,” I grumbled, my anger rising.
I stomped directly towards the trinket store. A bell rang when I yanked the door open. A few of the shoppers eyed me with frowns due to my aggressive entry.
Right. Calm, be calm.
I grew up with bouts of anger, and while I never fully cured my problem - I did learn to dominate the inner beast.
A fake smile, combined with a terse nod, placated the shoppers, and I was quickly forgotten as they looked for a worthless trinket to fill a hole in their lives they didn’t even know existed. If anything, I was a bit jealous that this place was so full after just opening. It would be nice to have a bit more business to fill my days, or at least people to talk to.
The store held shelves filled with carvings, sculptures, incense, models, crafted items, and art. I found no pricing or labels, and the organization was about as random as it could be.
With my irritation fading, and a calm settling, I hunted for the annoying reflective source. When I came up empty, I glanced deeper into the store.
An old woman who was ancient in her years, with gray hair and wrinkled skin, smirked at me. She beamed a youthful smile that defied her elderly appearance, and when she winked - I couldn’t help it - I smiled back.
Behind her was a glowing velvety sack akin to a Crown Royal bag; it was even purple with golden strings. The dim glow intrigued me. It was as if a black light were shining on the area while the lights off. But they weren’t and I couldn’t explain the aura around the sack. Nor could I explain how I felt drawn to it.
“Excuse me, everyone out!” The old woman said in a spry tone. “Grand opening is officially tomorrow, and my biggest donor has just arrived. Donated ten thousand! Yes, round of applause.”
I clapped with the others, realizing it was time to go. She rounded the counter to shoo us all out of the store. When I spun to leave, a cane hooked around my thigh and pulled me back.
“Hey!” I complained.
“Calm, you oaf. Not you, we need to talk,” she said in an authoritarian tone.
The chime of the door sounded, announcing the final customer's exit. While she was short, I wasn’t an oaf. Sure, I towered over most at six-two, but oaf was a bit much.
“I don’t have ten grand you hoot,” I teased with a chuckle.
She peeked around to ensure it was just us, and when she was certain, she gave a slight cackle of joy. I tilted my head in confusion as she twirled the cane with a youthful step. She even bowed with the grace of a gymnast.
“Impressive. My granny passed away in her mid-nineties, right about your age,” I said, still a bit miffed at her. “She lacked your…” I struggled to find a fitting word. “Buoyancy.”
“Ha! I’m far older than that. And was that a sea pun? How devilishly charming. There are a hundred items in here that might trigger the right person to enter through that door. Which lured you in like the hungry wolf that you are?” She asked with mischievous eyes and a sinister smile.
I wagged a finger at the old lady. “I gotta go back to work. Consider my curiosity sated. You convinced me to enter your store with a bouncing laser… Or maybe… Well, shoot, I don’t know. Anyway, thanks for your time.”
“A twenty if you tell me,” she said, halting me on my journey to the door. She wagged a crisp bill in the air, setting the bait in a tent shape atop the counter, much like I’d set bills for the dancers at the titty bar. “Just point out the object that drew you in.”
“For reals, lady, you got problems. So do I, though, and I like money. The sack on the shelf,” I said, pointing to the bag.
The little granny smoothly jumped to fetch the bag off the upper shelf. I blinked in awe. That vault should not have been possible. She stuck the tented twenty into the bag and tossed it at me before I could say anything.
When I opened the bag, I saw about a dozen marbles of different varieties. Each was as unique as the next one. Someone must have gone to all the stores to find their favorite pieces and piled them together.
“I’m confused on a few levels. What do they do? And are you giving them to me?” I asked with a furrowed brow.
I touched a few marbles. As far as I could tell, they were nothing special besides being neat to look at.
“You’ll see. Consider those a gift for future entertainment. When you visit tomorrow, I’ll tell you more. It can get boring being by yourself while waiting for customers,” she said.
“Ha! Ain’t that the truth?” I smiled. “Rico, the name’s Rico.”
She nodded. “Nuwa.”
“Well, Nuwa, you're right about that. I get bored too. Thanks for this, and I’ll find a good home for these toys,” I said, noticing a minivan pulling up to Marty’s.
A mom hurried to retrieve a few kids from car seats, struggling with all of them. I knew right then and there she’d be a handful.
Crap. Looks like I’m working late.
Over the next hour, the poor woman tried to corral her kids while I diagnosed her phone. It would have gone quicker, but I helped return items to shelves, retrieved a runaway who giggled endlessly, and struggled with her issue. Turns out, it wasn’t a toilet, a drop down the stairs, or a kid using a magnet over the screen that caused her problem. Her charging pad needed to be replaced. The battery had died during her hectic day. I didn’t apply a service fee and sold her a refurbished charger from behind the counter for cheap.
She loved how well I handled her kids while troubleshooting her phone enough that she asked for a date. Three kids, mid-twenties, and three different sets of eyes on the toddlers had me skeptical. I didn’t hate kids, but I didn’t want to adopt three of them overnight, or add a fourth… or deal with her issues. She was cute enough in a harried sort of way, but not that cute.
I declined politely but said if she ever got a free night to drink and talk, not as a date, to meet me at Patty’s, my favorite local Irish bar. This turned her frown upside down and she skipped out, reminding me drinks and a talk was a date.
I closed up shop with a smile on my face, and yeah, I went to Patty’s. For twenty bucks I could play darts and have a meal with three goodish drinks. All that for just pointing to a sack of marbles I’d stashed in my pocket.
The Wednesday crowd was light, and I went home happy, content, and alone. It was the days where I had extra money that I loved being in America. Being a broke bum in a tiny basement studio… not so much.
I went to sleep that night expecting the next day to be the same repetitive nonsense. The typical journey of me heading into work to suffer in boredom all over again. If only that would have happened.
CHAPTER 2
RUDE AWAKENINGS
DATE UNKNOWN – LOCATION UNKNOWN
“Are you awake?” a sultry voice asked.
Never a bad question, especially spoken in that tone. Some of the best mornings of my life had started just like that.
But something wasn’t right.
I shimmied awkwardly from under the weight I took to be my covers with a startle. I tumbled forward with a gentle crash. My knees didn’t sting like they should from the impact.
“Oof!” I groaned, expecting to be on the rug of my tiny studio.
Confusion cascaded through my mind when I realized I wasn’t on carpet, but instead on a fluffy… cloud. Yeah, a freaking angels and harps cartoon cloud.
“Whoa! What the fuck is going on?”
The snap of fingers drew my attention. I looked up and noticed a few things in a split second. I most certainly wasn’t in my studio apartment. I bounced on a soft billowy section of cloud flooring. A bed rested nearby while fluffy clouds drifted overhead. When I glanced around, I saw an unfamiliar skyline mixed with even more white clouds.
Nuwa, the old lady from the store was young again, voluptuous, and in a very revealing toga. The change was so shocking that I surprised myself by recognizing her. It was her eyes. No one could ever forget those eyes.
I figured I must’ve died because it seemed like I was in heaven. Black gates behind Nuwa had heaven stamped on them in a golden arch.
Well… Shit. I didn’t bring home a hussy to rob and murder me. Nor did I drink that much beer to choke on my vomit... How the fuck did I die?
I rotated from my knees to my ass while I reeled from the implications.
Be calm, be calm. I warned myself, except… my inner beast was silent.
With a grunt, I tucked my knees in tight against my chest so I could rest my chin on them. The adjustment caused the sack of marbles to dig into my thigh. My hand went fishing into my sweatpants, and I extracted the pouch.
“Ah,” I said as it clicked. I jingled the clacking bag. “These… I’m going to take a guess here… This sack glowed for a reason. Were they poisoned? Is this what killed me?”
Nuwa walked to my foldout bed and sat on the side. The slit on the side of her toga combined with the ample cleavage from the diving v-line were ignored. Okay, mostly ignored. Frankly, they were a pleasant distraction from the incongruities I was seeing now. I was truly sulking at that moment. Dying wasn’t exactly on my to-do list.
