Minute Mage: A Time-Traveling LitRPG Progression Fantasy

A Devil sat at a desk in a damp, dark room. He was yet again doing paperwork in his office, signing off on proposals and reading reports, but this time he was working quite a bit more slowly. The reason for his wavering work-ethic was what happened with that escaped convict, Temporus. The incident had been slowly adding more and more work onto his already-overstuffed plate.

Of course, he had to worry about the now-frequent meetings with his superior. But on top of that, he also had to manage multiple Diviner teams, all of which were searching for Temporus in different locations. They were using magic to search for the convict’s heartbeat, but they couldn’t find it anywhere. Sure, Divining a being’s location was a long and arduous process – and even more so if the target was actively moving – but they had prepared for the possibility of an escape and had put Curses on Temporus to make it easier to track this way. It was as if the beating heart of Temporus had just disappeared into nowhere.

Obviously, they wouldn’t be able to find Temporus’s beating heart if the convict had died, but that was such an unlikely possibility that… no. In truth, it wasn’t really all that unlikely. The Devil just wanted it to be untrue so badly that he refused to prepare for it. He had one team of Diviners searching for Temporus’s corpse, but they hadn’t found anything, either, so there was no evidence either way of the convict’s state.

Well, the fact that it was just a single team of Diviners searching for a corpse meant that it was much more understandable that they hadn’t found anything yet, as opposed to multiple teams not finding a living Temporus, but… no. He didn’t even want to think about it. If Temporus was dead, it would be bad, to say the least.

The Devil went ahead and signed the proposal in front of him. He hadn’t actually finished reading it, but he just didn’t have the energy to do his job right now. From the bit that he had skimmed, it seemed fine enough.

A knock sounded from his door.

The Devil sighed. He really didn’t want to deal with another person bothering him. “You may enter,” he said after a moment.

The stone door creaked open, and a Diviner shuffled in. It was short, with the patchy, blue-and-red skin that all Diviners had and the square, geometric facial features and seemingly-glowing eyes that they were known for. It wore the purple robe that was uniform for them, but this one’s robe was gold-trimmed – it was a leader of one of the squads. The Devil didn’t remember which of the squads this Diviner led – he didn’t have nearly enough time to go around learning who was part of what team – but that hardly mattered.

“Expression of formal greeting, Xhag’duulinithar’obaba’iidook’naisantipoduun’torobaroxhixhonxhaxintep.”

“Expression of greeting, Diviner. What is your name?”

“This one has been granted the name of Ooindaar’wodinpaarvivaxyaala’oocandii.”

“I will call you Ooindar. What have you come here for?”

The Diviner leader gave a regal bow. “This one brings knowledge of the pursuance of Temporus, Overlord of Tomorrows. You had requested for this one to inform you in the instance of a development in our seeking of the rogue convict, and that has indeed occurred.”

The Devil fought back a sigh. The Diviners were an old race, and as such, they had an old way of speaking. It wasn’t an issue, of course. It was just strange. The Devil himself was old, too, by the standards of aging set in the Overworld, but, compared to Demonkind, he was closer to being middle-aged. Besides, his job was a social one – he interacted with coworkers, subordinates, and superiors, he read documents written by others, and the like. So he had lots of time and practice in keeping up with changing language and social norms.

The Diviners… Well, they were a bit more secluded. Divining was a job that necessitated complete silence, so the Diviners were cordoned off from others while they worked. And a single Divining job could take days, weeks, or even months of straight casting. And not only that, but Diviners were so in-demand that after one job, they’d normally be taken straight to another. This meant that they generally got little to no social interaction.

So, when they did talk, they were normally a bit strange.

But at least this Diviner was respectful of basic traditions, like proper greetings and treatment of names and titles. In the past, the Devil had met a Diviner that began speaking without even greeting him or speaking his name. It was preposterous. Someone needed to teach these beings manners. In fact, perhaps he would write up a request for permission to write a proposal to introduce a training program for Diviners to be taught in basic social interaction.

Ah, but he’d gotten distracted from the conversation at hand.

“What is the news, Ooindar?”

“Superior Xhag’duulinithar’obaba’iidook’naisantipoduun’torobaroxhixhonxhaxintep, this one, along with the rest of what has been designated as Diviner Squad 057A2Y6, has located the target.”

The Devil’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s great! Where is it? I’ll send out a retrieval squad right away.”

“Of course, Superior Xhag’duulinithar’obaba’iidook’naisantipoduun’torobaroxhixhonxhaxintep. The corpse of Temporus is currently located at the coordinates of 370.2467918–”

“Wait,” the Devil interrupted. “Corpse? You were the squad looking for Temporus’s corpse?”

“Indeed.”

“And you found it?”

“Indeed.”

“A corpse? You found a corpse? Not a living body?”

“Indeed.”

The Devil groaned, his head falling into his hands. Why? Why did it have to turn out like this? The Diviner stared at him with its dumb, emotionless face.

“I… I need to make a call. Stay here, Ooindar.”

The Devil contacted his superior using his Communication Crystal.

“Expression of greeting, Xhag’duul. You didn’t schedule this call, so I take it you have information relating to Temporus?”

“Expression of formal greeting, Quinmorada’qualticularoohdodonmi’asmomonomomonminmi’oohdoohdimyuumyuuquanquimi’jinndarrqyuqyakwuquoquanki’miminanmujardinmani’quokinwukanquokokanki. And yes, the Diviners have just found the… corpse. Of Temporus.”

There was a silence – one so long, the Devil was worried that his superior didn’t hear him. But eventually, her voice rang out.

“Do you know what killed it?”

The Devil looked over to Ooindar, the Diviner. “Tell us.”

“This one does not have that knowledge,” it said to the Devil. “We only have knowledge of its location.”

The Devil relayed this information to his superior.

There was another silence. “Xhag’duul, do you know what it means now that Temporus has been killed?”

Confused at the random question, the Devil responded, “Yes, Superior Quinmorada’qualticularoohdodonmi’asmomonomomonminmi’oohdoohdimyuumyuuquanquimi’jinndarrqyuqyakwuquoquanki’miminanmujardinmani’quokinwukanquokokanki. It means that we no longer have it as an asset to use for our cause. While Temporus’s time manipulation wasn’t essential to the functioning of our operations, it was an asset, and losing it will be unfortunate. Do not worry, I will immediately write the necessary reports detailing all materials, assets, opportunities, forces, and services that we lost due to the death of–”

“That is incorrect, Xhag’duul.” The female voice had a hard certainty to it. “I was asking what the consequences of Temporus being killed were, not the consequences of its death.”

“I… do not understand the question.”

“That’s okay. I didn’t expect you to. Temporus was an unusual Demon in many regards. It had its time powers, sure, but it was also considered to be a 'Legendary Monster'. The good news here is that luck is on our side. If Temporus was killed by a monster, environmental injuries, or a Classed individual, then the consequences will be just as you say.”

“Formal expression of apology, superior, but what do you mean by ‘Classed?’”

“Ah, right, your job doesn’t require you to interact with the Overworld much, does it? Well, instead of the way Demons acquire System-related power – through their Racial abilities – many of the sentient Overworld species, such as Humans, are born without any sort of Racial identity or power. Instead, they are granted their abilities through a combination of merit and their own choices. It is… disturbing, to say the least.”

The Devil’s superior was correct that he didn’t know much about the Overworld. Why would he? He lived in the Underworld and had no plans on going to the other side, and business was pretty much exclusively based in the Underworld, too – managing resources, fighting wars against the other circles of Hell, that sort of thing. And after hearing that bit of information… How strange. Was there no order up there? Peasants rising to be kings? It was common sense that a prince raised from birth to be royalty would perform infinitely better than some commoner with no knowledge of ruling; how did they survive in a world that even entertained the idea?

“One way that these ‘Classes’ are doled out is through accomplishments such as killing beings outside of their own species. Now, an individual may only have one Class, so we do not have to worry about someone with a Class killing Temporus – that wouldn’t do anything. However, if an individual without a Class killed it, since it was a Legendary Monster, there would be consequences.”

“Would the individual become incredibly powerful?”

“No, not immediately. What would happen would essentially be that the individual would steal a portion of Temporus’s powers for themself.”

“What?!” The Devil leapt out of his seat. “That is… reviling! What right do they have to steal the power of something that was rightfully born with it?” Only then did he recover from his burst of anger. “F-Formal expression of apology, Superior Quinmorada’qualticularoohdodonmi’asmomonomomonminmi’oohdoohdimyuumyuuquanquimi’jinndarrqyuqyakwuquoquanki’miminanmujardinmani’quokinwukanquokokanki. I seemed to have lost my manners for a moment.”

“It is okay, Xhag’duul. I understand your anger. It is one thing for those Overworlders to live in blasphemous chaos, but to force it upon us… To put it lightly, justice would be necessitated in the case that Temporus’s power has been stolen. In order to maintain the hierarchy of our society, to uphold the Demon race’s morale, and – of course – to put those filthy Overworlders in their place, I believe that the culprit of this theft would need to be punished.”

The Devil frowned. “But…”

“Yes. But in order to do so, we would need resources, and to receive resources, we would need to submit a request for approval. And approvals do not happen based on appeals to emotion – no matter how strong or objectively correct those emotions are. However, there will be benefits for the Demon race if the culprit is killed. On their soul’s way through the Underworld, we could simply intercept it and reclaim its powers to put into a successor of Temporus.”

“Ah, yes. So the request would be framed as a simple reclamation of resources?”

“Indeed, Xhag’duul. Now, of course, understand that the possibilities of this happening are still astronomically low. Temporus’s physical body was weak, but not so weak that an individual without any sort of System-related power could easily kill it. So, for now, simply keep this information in the back of your mind as an idea of the worst-case scenario.”

“Yes, superior. How should I find the source of Temporus’s death?”

“Hmm. Just use the Diviner squads already assigned to you. Finding source of death is much more difficult than finding a body, but you should be able to get it done within a reasonable amount of time.”

“Yes, superior. I will have them do so immediately.”

The Devil’s superior ended the connection.

The Devil breathed, thinking about the conversation he’d just had. He had always felt like the Overworld wasn’t an important place. It was far away, and there wasn’t much there that his race couldn’t get from the Underworld. Besides, there was so much more to worry about here – the constant fighting with the other circles, managing growth and expansion, and of course just doing his own job all felt like they should have taken precedence over some random other place.

However, that was before he learned of their disgusting way of life. And if those Overworld denizens were going to corrupt the Demons that ended up there, then he would gladly take revenge.

“Ooindar,” he spoke to the Diviner. “You heard our conversation. I want you to get the teams together and focus on finding the cause of Temporus’s death. If you even begin to suspect that it was an… what did she call it? Ah, right, an ‘Unclassed individual.’ If you think that one of those Unclassed things killed it, then notify me immediately.”

“Yes, Superior Xhag’duulinithar’obaba’iidook’naisantipoduun’torobaroxhixhonxhaxintep.”

“You are dismissed, Ooindar. Work hard for me. We have a thief to find.”