Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

Chapter 86

Nick woke long before the sun began to brighten the horizon. The world outside remained enveloped in the quiet of pre-dawn, yet he could already sense movement within the house. His room was dim, with only slivers of moonlight filtering through the shutters to provide illumination.

Talbot stirred beside him. As Nick shifted, the cat let out a disgruntled mewl, stretching out with lazy elegance before cracking open one starry eye in annoyance.

Nick chuckled, already halfway out of bed. "Go back to sleep," he murmured as he pulled on his clothes. "You don't need to be up for this."

Talbot's tail flicked, but he did not move. Who knew spirits like to sleep so much?

Nick didn't bother trying to be quiet. The expedition wouldn't be leaving for several more hours, but Devon—Devon was leaving now. And Nick would be damned if he didn't see him off.

We've had our heart-to-heart, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't be there as he leaves.

As he descended the stairs, he was met with the sight of his entire family already awake.

Devon stood near the door, adjusting the straps on his pack. Although he had always been strong, his frame seemed broader now and his stance more solid. He had grown a couple of inches in the past months, but Nick expected he'd be almost unrecognizable the next time they saw each other. Both his parents were pretty tall, and Devon had a frame that promised an oak-like build.

Eugene and Elena—already dressed in leather armor—stood close by, watching him with proud and bittersweet expressions. Even Akari had shown up after disappearing for a few days. Standing near the hearth with her arms crossed, she offered a rare nod of approval as Devon tested the weight of his luggage.

Nick smiled. He might not be exactly the son he ought to be, but he had grown to love this strange family even more than what Kid Nick's memories instilled in him.

For all the chaos of the past few days—the planning, the expeditions, and the looming threat of the dungeon—his parents had still found time to be here. They would rush back to the wall as soon as this was over, but Nick knew they wouldn't miss this for anything.

Devon let out a breath, rolling his shoulders as if trying to shake off nervousness. "I'll be back," he said steadily, though there was an undeniable tightness in his tone. It wasn't surprising that he was being hit by the emotions now. Despite being an adventurous teenager, he'd never been far from home without their parents, and certainly not for more than a day.

"And I'll be much, much stronger." He continued.

There was something fierce in the way he said it—determination, yes, but also frustration. Frustration that he couldn't stay and fight, that he had to leave when Floria was still in danger.

Nick saw it in the way Devon's hands curled at his sides and how his jaw clenched. He also saw the unshed tears that shimmered just beneath the surface.

Eugene stepped forward first, clasping a firm hand on his shoulder. "We're proud of you, son."

Elena followed, pulling him into a tight hug. "You'll do amazing things," she whispered. "We know it."

Devon exhaled sharply, as if trying to steady himself, before nodding.

Then, he turned to Nick.

Nick grinned. "Try not to trip over your own feet out there," he said, reaching out and giving Devon a solid slap on the shoulder, perhaps a little harder than necessary. We've already done the sappy stuff. Better to send him off like this.

Devon stumbled forward a step, scowling as he caught his balance. The heavy pack on his back certainly didn't do him any favors. "Damn it, Nick."

Nick smirked. "Next time I see you, I hope you'll have learned how to take a punch."

A slow grin spread across Devon's face. "Next time I see you, I hope you'll have learned how to throw a real one."

With one last nod to his family, Devon took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway, with Akari following him.

The night swallowed him up, and just like that, he was gone.

Nick stood there for a moment, watching the space where his brother had been.

His parents had left mere minutes after Devon—they had too much to handle before the expedition left. Apparently, some adventurers were raising a fuss about being contracted with the caravan despite their outstanding obligations to the town. It wasn't surprising that some more selfish people were trying to flee, but it certainly didn't help when time was so tight.

They'd told Nick to get back to sleep if he was done packing. Of course, he'd already done that the previous evening, but he had no intention to slip back into Morpheus' embrace.

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That gave Nick a few precious hours to complete his own preparations before he had to leave.

After retrieving his bag with the necessary ingredients, he went back downstairs and immediately noticed Talbot sitting in the middle of the living room, his tail curled neatly around his paws. The cat's knowing gaze met his own.

Nick paused, narrowing his eyes. "…What?"

Talbot blinked, slow and deliberate.

Nick frowned, then sighed. "Right. You already know what I'm going to ask. That's definitely not just a spirit thing, because I've yet to meet any who can enter my mind."

Talbot rose fluidly to his feet, padding forward. He didn't need to say anything. The expectation was clear.

Nick let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. Let's get started. I can figure out your secrets later."

He had one more ritual to complete before leaving. One last bit of power to claim. Talbot would be the perfect warden, given his specialty.

Some might believe that participating in semi-religious rituals with the Marthas in town, along with an entire forest of fae who want to kill me, would be a terrible idea, and they'd usually be correct. But they don't have Talbot, and they certainly don't have [Blasphemy].

Sure, he'd summoned the cat with the intention of providing a last line of defense for his family, but given the absence of anyone to protect, it would be a waste not to use him.

The fact that he's here will also allow me to not waste the last bits of obsidian I have left. I haven't found any in the market, and I haven't gone exploring in a while. I guess that's another thing I have to do once the dungeon's taken care of.

Nick hurried through the fields, his boots crunching on the dried stalks of wild grass. The eastern sky was beginning to brighten, the first hints of dawn painting it in streaks of violet and gold. He didn't have much time.

His destination was carefully chosen to be far enough from the usual training ground that no one would think to look for him. Too many people were aware of that spot, and an interruption at this moment would ruin everything. This was delicate work. He needed focus.

The land sloped downward here, the soft grass thick and untouched. No well-worn paths, no signs of recent movement. Perfect.

Nick took a deep breath, centering himself through the Stalking Gait, before he began to set up.

He retrieved several mundane sunstones from his pack, which glowed faintly with captured daylight. He carefully placed them in the familiar shape of a pentagram. Their positioning had to be exact—if even one was slightly off, the effect would be diminished, and he was counting on his increased understanding of ritual magic to earn a bump in spell level.

Then came the monster cores. Five in total, one at each point of the star. Their energies hummed beneath his fingertips, rich with the remnants of life force from the creatures they had once belonged to. The dungeon might take his life, but he couldn't deny that it made rituals much easier. I knew several people on Earth who would have given their firstborn away for access to this many cores.

He straightened, taking in his work. The last time he had performed the [Welcoming of the Sun], he had been hesitant, unsure of his abilities. Not anymore. Now, he understood how this world's magic worked. He had refined his instincts and built up his knowledge.

This time, he was aiming for the star.

Nick rolled his shoulders, closed his eyes, and began to chant.

The words were old and guttural, as Leopontic was a language almost no one spoke on Earth. He did not doubt that a few mage families had kept the knowledge alive, but he might be the best among the independents. They felt right in his mouth, felt like they belonged there.

"O radiant one, whose light breaks the veil of night, I call upon thee.

Look upon this day and see it blessed, as I honor thee in turn.

Grant me thy favor, that I may walk beneath thy gaze with strength."

As he spoke, the sunstones flared with golden warmth. The monster cores trembled in place, their latent energy stirring, drawn into the spell's framework.

Nick immediately felt a shift in the air as a weight pressed against his spirit.

It was different from before. Back then, the presence had barely been noticeable—just enough for him to realize that invoking the sun here would be different than what he was used to.

On Earth, coming under Sol's influence meant being caught in its ever-burning energy. The caster would receive a boost to their strength, sure, but the delirium that followed, the manic necessity to do something, was a drawback that made the ritual impractical most of the time.

This time, there was a noticeable weight behind the star's attention. Enough so that he was sure he would have already fallen apart without his trump card.

[Blasphemy] flared to life. The pressure diminished instantly, unable to even take hold. The manic whispers that urged him to burn through the unending energy faded away before they could push into his mind.

A yowl split the air.

Nick's eyes snapped open just in time to see Talbot, fur bristling, standing just outside the pentagram's reach. The spirit cat's silver-blue coat shimmered strangely as if reacting to the ritual's energy.

The pressure eased further. Now, he could no longer feel anything futilely striking against his shielded mind.

Nick exhaled. The ritual would be successful.

The final words left his lips, rumbling from his chest. "I rise with thee, O sun. And with thee, I burn."

The pentagram flared—not just with golden light, but with heat. A ripple of warmth washed over Nick, sinking deep into his bones. The monster cores cracked, their power spent, their essence devoured by the ritual.

Then, silence.

Nick stood still, feeling his pulse thrumming in his ears. His body felt lighter, faster, stronger. He clenched a fist, feeling an undeniable surge of power coursing through him.

A system notification blinked into view:

Nick grinned.

That was significantly better than his first attempt. He had expected a boost, but five whole stat points across the board? That was insane. The sickness resistance was also good. He didn't know if the fae would resort to poison or pathogens, but it was better to be prepared for just about any underhanded tactic.

He took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders. He felt great. Better than great.

Talbot padded over to him, tail flicking in annoyance.

Nick chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I should've told you I was doing this."

The cat huffed, then butted its head against his leg before stalking off toward the house.

Nick followed more leisurely, basking in the afterglow of the ritual's success.

Then, a prickle of awareness ran down his spine. Nick's footsteps halted.

His senses flared, his mind stretching outward. Something— no, someone— was approaching fast.

Without hesitation, he cast [Wind God's Third Eye]. His vision expanded. The wind whispered, feeding him information, mapping out the world around him.

And he saw her on the path leading toward his house.

Elia.

Nick exhaled, shaking his head slightly. He should have known she'd come to find him eventually. He just hadn't expected it to be now.

This is going to be another one of those days, huh? Adjusting his backpack, Nick continued toward the house.

Whatever this was about, he had a feeling his friend wasn't here just to see him off.