Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

Setting up for the ritual of Astral Projection took a surprisingly short time. Nick now knew how all the ingredients would react with one another, and he had a sufficient supply of everything on hand. His decision to use some of the smaller cores he got from the squirrels also meant he could go ahead without worrying about emptying his reserves.

I'm doing pretty well these days. My mana sits at a comfortable forty-six points, and [Parsimonia] allows me to stretch it far, but I don't want to use all my reserves for the ritual and then end up as a sitting duck if I discover something that needs my attention.

Drawing the pentagram took little, followed by another few minutes of carefully smoothing out the edges. Stoneroot powder was one of the best reagents, as it suited almost all types of rituals. However, it had the annoying habit of moving around at the slightest breeze, so it was only ever used for indoor rituals.

Of course, now that I have [Minor Wind Affinity], I could also use it for outdoor ones. It would take very little attention to keep a breeze from blowing the powder around, and using stoneroot instead of simply drawing the ritual circle in the dirt would grant me much better stability… Later, I have a bigger priority at the moment.

Next, he placed the remaining carved obsidian—making a mental note to prepare more pieces, as he was running low—on the pentagram's points so that his body could be protected from passing spirits or, more likely, from the influence of one of the major powers struggling over the town.

Nick had been given no reason to think either Sashara or the feral gods would want to possess his body, but his grandfather had beaten the lesson in him too well. He wasn't about to trust any incorporeal entity to be polite and leave an undefended body alone, no siree.

The last two ingredients sat on his bed, waiting for his attention. The Silverthorn leaves were drier than he'd like, but he only needed a little boost to eject himself from his body—his mental stats were more than enough to handle the rest.

The Dream Spider venom was precisely as he had bought it. Despite the passing of time, it was a superior-quality ingredient, and its intact state showed that Old Ogden only dealt in the highest-quality ingredients.

Nick ingested the two, one after the other, and chanted the old Babylonian words, "Hear me, O King of the Heavens, and grant me sight beyond the veil of flesh, beyond the chains of body and blood, that I may see the truth hidden in darkness."

As he expected, the stoneroot contained the ritual almost perfectly, and thus, there was only a brief flash of mana, easily attributable to the training he was known to do before bed. His consciousness snapped away from his body without issue.

Half a second later, the world opened to his eyes in colors his physical brain had no hope of comprehending. Nick tested the tether, finding it solid enough, and took to the air, shooting out of the roof and aiming squarely at the town wall.

He sailed effortlessly through the night, feeling a rush of exhilaration despite the seriousness of the situation. His only other astral foray had been spent mostly snooping around during the day, so he hadn't gotten to see just how much the veil of the astral plane warped the world. He could see splotches of color everywhere, indicating that active magic was ongoing all over the town. On Earth, this would have been a clear sign of a powerful faction's stronghold residing here; in Floria, it was to be expected. Even the most humble farmer had mana and could leave traces of it behind.

Signs of increased activity soon caught his attention. Armed guardsmen emerged from their homes, grimly greeting each other. Nick noted the absence of alarm bells or panicked cries. The civilians were still unaware of the danger in what had to be a calculated decision to prevent chaos.

It makes sense. They couldn't do anything anyway—few non-combat classes have stats high enough to matter in a fight, and even those that do wouldn't know how to handle themselves in the chaos of battle. It's better to keep them away from the frontlines and let the professionals handle it.

He swept past the residential district, where homes were dark and still, and into the bustling heart of the town. The closer he got to the wall, the more alive the streets became. The guild's windows glowed with light, spilling shadows of armed adventurers onto the cobbled square outside. The building's door swung open repeatedly as the grizzled barkeep directed individuals and small groups to various points along the wall.

Nick slowed, observing the scene. Even the weaker adventurers are being mobilized, he realized. A young man carrying an old, rune-carved sword stood at attention near a pair of older fighters who looked no more confident than he did. The strategy was clear: cover all angles. If the stampede came from an unexpected direction, the lesser fighters would at least be able to raise the alarm.

They can't be more than F-ranks. They are probably only used to skirting the forest's edges to gather some herbs. Hell, they might not even have combat classes.

He shot forward again, crossing the square, and the men never lingered on the invisible form streaking overhead. A cluster of more experienced adventurers—those Nick recognized from rumors around town—stood apart, carefully avoiding showing their concern.

Finally, Nick reached the staging ground. This was where the action centered, and even in astral form, the tension was palpable. Torches blazed in iron sconces, casting flickering light over a group of heavily armed figures. His father stood at their heart, squaring off with two burly men dressed in expensive-looking armor.

Nick drifted closer, stretching his hearing to catch the conversation.

"This is ridiculous, Captain," one of the adventurers growled, his voice low but heated. He gestured at the gathered forces with a meaty hand. "We don't need the whole bloody town up here to deal with a stampede. Your boys and a few of our better teams are more than capable of handling it ourselves. We don't need to share the experience with everyone else."

Eugene didn't seem particularly receptive to that line of thinking. "You may think so, but as Captain of Floria, the safety of this town is my responsibility. And I won't gamble with its lives just because you think you're invincible."

The second adventurer, slightly shorter but no less imposing, crossed his arms. "This is overkill, and you know it. You're acting like we're facing an army."

"We might be," Eugene replied sharply. "Until we know the extent of the threat, I'm not taking any chances. If you have a problem with that, you're welcome to leave."

The first adventurer bristled, his face darkening. "Just because you decided to sacrifice your career to play lord out here doesn't mean the rest of us are content scraping by in this backwater. This is a chance to earn some good fucking levels!"

The words hung in the air. Nick saw Darian, standing a few steps behind his father, tense visibly. The veteran's hand twitched toward his sword, but Eugene held up a hand, stopping him.

"That's enough," he said quietly. His voice carried an edge of steel that silenced any further protest. "You're entitled to your opinion, but this is my town, my call. If you're here, you follow my orders. If you can't do that, I'll remove you myself."

The adventurers exchanged a long look, then stepped back with muttered curses. One of them threw a parting shot over his shoulder. "I hope your 'honor' keeps you warm at night, Captain."

Darian made to step forward, but Eugene shook his head. "Let it go. They're not wrong. This life isn't for everyone."

Darian frowned, clearly wanting to argue, but Eugene's calm expression softened him. "You don't regret it, though," the veteran said finally.

"Not for a second," Eugene replied. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "This town is worth it. My family is worth it."

Nick felt a surge of pride as he watched his father. Even in the face of criticism and doubt, Eugene stood resolute as a pillar of strength for the people who depended on him. He's more than capable, Nick thought, his mother's words echoing in his mind.

Still, he couldn't help but worry. The tension in the air and the adventurers' mobilization pointed to something bigger than a routine monster train—the kind that could spawn from any failed escape in the forest.

Nick resolved to check for himself, drifting higher to survey the surrounding area. If danger truly approached, he wanted to be the first to know. And though he couldn't fight alongside his father, he would do everything in his power to support him from the shadows.

As Nick floated higher into the sky, the night was serene, almost deceivingly so. Yet the world was eerily still up here, beyond the reach of mundane noise and light.

Just shy of full, the moon cast a silver glow over the forest, painting it in dark hues and silver highlights. The stars twinkled in their eternal dance, unbothered by the troubles of the mortal realm. Nick momentarily allowed himself to enjoy their presence before a strange undercurrent in the atmosphere jolted him back to focus.

Something was wrong.

His gaze swept over the Green Ocean, initially seeing only the endless sea of trees stretching to the horizon. However, he knew that wasn't all, so he allowed his material senses to fall behind and concentrated on his mystical ones. It took only a few moments before a faint green haze appeared deep within the forest.

It moved almost imperceptibly. Nick could tell it was far from Floria, but its movement still unsettled him. It was creeping, inch by inch, toward the town.

It's slow, he mused, watching the barely noticeable progression. It might take days, maybe even weeks before it gets here. But what is it?

At first, he wondered if it was related to the stampede everyone was bracing for. However, he quickly discarded the notion. The haze was too ethereal to be caused by the movement of physical beings.

Turning his attention southward, Nick scanned the horizon and soon spotted the more tangible threat: a growing cloud of dust and debris. He narrowed his eyes and tracked its progress. By his estimation, it would reach the wall within an hour, just as everyone had predicted.

So, what was the haze?

Nick's unease deepened as he turned back toward the strange green fog. It was moving too deliberately to be a natural phenomenon yet too slow to seem urgent. He hesitated for a moment, weighing the risk, then steeled himself. I need to know what it is.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

He shot forward, leaving the town behind. The forest below stretched endlessly, its dark canopy hiding untold dangers. This was a significant gamble, as Nick was nowhere near experienced enough to defend himself should he encounter a creature native to the astral plane, but he hoped to be back before anything could notice him.

The haze grew more distinct as he approached, showing that it wasn't just a visual anomaly. The closer he got, the more it seemed to weigh on him—a heavy, oppressive energy pressing against his mind. At last, he stopped about a hundred feet away, hovering just above the trees.

From here, the haze was a wall of shifting green, its surface roiling like smoke caught in slow motion. Nick examined it intently, his mind racing. It felt familiar.

The reason hit him like a hammer. The mist in the Temple of Sashara. The ethereal fog he had navigated in his astral form to reach the heart of the temple. This was almost exactly the same.

It's a god's domain. It's weaker than what I faced in the temple, but that makes sense. There, it had time to settle. It had a reason to be. This hasn't had the time to take root yet, but there is no doubt that it's divine in nature.

Nick had speculated that divine domains were tied to their deities, existing as pockets of their power anchored in place by worship. This one creeping toward Floria meant the god's influence was spreading.

But why? Has the expedition into the forest disturbed something? Is it a god making a move? Or is this simply a natural consequence of the dungeon's growing power? Are dungeons divine in nature? Roberta's diary says nothing of the sort, but I can't afford to think she's infallible.

Part of him wanted to test the haze, to enter and see if he could glean more information. But while he trusted [Blasphemy] to shield him from the consequences, he didn't know if doing so would attract attention to himself, and this was certainly not the time to add more problems to his plate. His last encounter with it—and he was quite sure it was the same domain—had led a wyvern hatchling to him. He might not be that lucky a second time.

Instead, he floated higher, studying the haze from a safe distance. It wasn't random; there was intent in its movement. The slow crawl spoke of a purpose Nick couldn't yet understand beyond the obvious.

He lingered for a few more minutes, debating his next move. The haze wasn't an immediate threat. By his estimation, it would take days, if not weeks, to reach Floria at its current pace. But that didn't mean he could ignore it.

I might have to warn someone if the temple doesn't notice before it gets here. How I'm going to explain that is a question for another time.

Reluctantly, Nick turned back toward Floria, noticing with relief that the preparations seemed to be done and the men had taken their positions. Glancing over his shoulder one last time, a shiver ran through his astral form. The haze hung there, silent, like a predator biding its time.