Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

Nick wasted no time. He wasn't likely to get a better opportunity, and he was long past being squeamish at the sight of death, especially such a clean one. He descended, halting atop the sticky pool of blood spreading beneath the lifeless body. He felt a pang of sadness that such a young life would be cut off, but there was no room for sentiment. Every second counted.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Carefully, he guided the air currents under his control to lift the blood from the ground. Thick and sluggish, it resisted him, but he pressed harder, gritting his metaphorical teeth. Slowly, tendrils of crimson rose into the air, coming together under his command. The mana coursing through him burned like fire, but Nick pushed through the sensation, focusing on repeating his earlier feat.

The battle continued to rage around him. A thunderous crash nearby made him flinch. He glanced up in time to see the bifurcated remains of a forest lizard land mere feet away. Nick's gaze darted to the wall, where Eugene stood atop the battlements, his blade dripping with ichor. His father's expression was hard, but he didn't seem harried as he easily kept any monster from scaling the wall.

Nick allowed himself a brief moment of relief but soon returned to his task. He used the blood to draw another hexagram with great care, trying his best to avoid spilling even a single drop. What he was attempting was already complicated enough; adding even imperfections would make it impossible.

It took far longer than he would have liked, but Nick had to remind himself that he was already breaking new ground here. It was possible that this world had a much better method to do what he was doing—indeed, it was likely—but as far as he knew, affecting the world through another layer of reality was a feat only spoken of for extraplanar entities.

It helps to keep me grounded that I'm metaphorically sweating like a pig to push a few ounces of blood around. To anyone who doesn't know astral magic, it's probably not very impressive.

Once the basic hexagram was complete, Nick began methodically carving intricate symbols into the surrounding dirt, reinforcing the ritual's structure. Each symbol felt like dragging a boulder uphill, and his mana reserves were dwindling alarmingly fast. Unfortunately, they were necessary. Trying to complete an astral ritual without the proper anchoring would just as likely send him careening through the layers.

Fuck, I'm going to be left with little mana once I'm done. I could probably speed things up if I were less careful, but that sounds like a terrible idea. Also, if I tried to power the ritual with my own mana, I'd be snapped back to my body before I could even get its benefits, much less take part in the battle. Being parsimonious is good here. Heh.

The moment he completed the circle, he breathed a sigh of relief.

He pressed his will into the blood, infusing it with a spark of mana. The response was immediate. The liquid ignited into a crimson light, illuminating the symbols. This was the hardest part. He now needed to guide the ritual through intent alone to achieve his desired result. That was never a good idea and was especially dangerous when attempting to cross the astral layer. Beyond his willpower, he could only rely on the mass presence of death in the area. That might be enough to weaken the boundaries of reality just enough for him to slip in.

Nick closed his eyes, focusing on the sensations that most resembled his need to reach through. The feeling of breaching the sea, the shock of stepping out of a warm house into the cold air, and the sticky warmth of blood staining his hands. He poured those memories into the ritual, weaving them together through his intent.

A snap echoed in his mind, like a taut rope breaking free.

The hexagram flared brightly, and Nick felt a strange duality for a moment as his astral form and the physical place he occupied became one. His connection to the material plane solidified, not enough for him to materialize—he had nowhere near the power for that—but enough to sense the air again.

He opened his eyes and tested his newfound presence. With a flick of his will, the wind stirred around his form, creating a faint but discernible breeze. It was far easier than before, and the strain significantly lessened.

Nick allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. The ritual worked, as evidenced by the System notifications appearing again. He was no longer a helpless observer. The added stats would also help, especially with his mana hitting forty-nine. He was very close to the first threshold.

This was quite the gamble, but I suppose I am a bit of a gambler myself. Any who dedicates their lives to the occult has to be. It only makes the successes all the sweeter. Also, I should probably push any more notifications to the back for now. I can't afford to get distracted.

A deafening roar brought his attention back to the battlefield. Another of the large bush monsters from earlier had successfully overcome the traps and was charging again, angling its thorn-covered body as it barreled toward the wall.

I can't do anything about that. Fuck, I hate all this work going to waste.

That was when a glimmer of light caught his eye. Following its trajectory, he saw an arrow bury itself into the beast's body, disappearing behind the leaves. It seemed to have failed for a moment before a massive implosion occurred. Air was sucked towards the monster at great speed, ripping free from Nick's control.

When the effect ended, the monster only stood out of sheer chance. Its body was gutted, with a massive hole in the middle. A second later, it toppled forward, dead.

"It's sure useful to have so many alchemical weapons," an aged voice said over the roar of battle. Nick turned and saw it belonged to Ogden, who was talking with the archer who had taken the shot. However, from the way he pitched his voice to carry, it seemed clear he knew someone else was listening. "I made enough to handle the big beasts, but if someone could help with the smaller ones, it would allow us to keep our stockpile and ensure the security of all."

I'm going to have to talk with him after this is done. He obviously knows I'm here.

That, however, was a concern for later. Nick took the hint and floated away down the wall, where the younger soldiers and adventurers had been tasked with handling the stray beasts.

Being able to take in the entire battle from above, Nick had no trouble spotting those who needed help the most and began to liberally cast [Wind Blast] to give them some breathing room.

Several times, he had to pull someone back from the jaws of certain death with [Wind Burst]. He was sure that once the battle was over, people would talk about divine providence helping them survive, but he didn't mind too much for once. If that was what it took to hide his presence, he'd take it. One person being aware was already bad enough.

Occasionally, he sneaked a look at the central position, where his father kept directing the men, and intervened when a creature got too close for comfort. Nick hated to admit it, but if this was what a stampede was like, Eugene would be able to handle it.

Again, his sword flashed, cleaving through the neck of a wolf beast that had somehow avoided notice until it got to the wall. The creature collapsed, twitching, and Eugene kicked its body over as if it were nothing more than an inconvenience.

Nick wasn't sure whether to be impressed or terrified.

The defenders were holding, if with some losses. The traps were thinning the horde, but the sheer numbers pressing in were exhausting even the most seasoned fighters.

Satisfied that the northern defenses would hold, Nick focused his efforts on a cluster of creatures near the base of the wall—small, scurrying mantis-like things with sharp claws and wide mandibles. He conjured another [Wind Burst], sending the blast into their midst. It wasn't strong enough to harm them, but it scattered them, breaking their momentum and buying the defenders precious seconds.

A nearby archer, oblivious to Nick's presence, took the opportunity to fire a volley of arrows into the disoriented pack. If his aim turned out to be much better than he'd ever managed, it was only because of the adrenaline. At least, that was what the man would likely tell himself.

More confident now that he was contributing, Nick continued scanning the battlefield for more opportunities, flitting between groups of monsters. Another [Wind Burst], concentrated as much as he could this time, shifted the balance of a charging bear-rhino, causing it to fall on its side, where a large foxkin adventurer finished it off with a fire-infused punch. A third sent a fat lizard tumbling into a pit lined with spikes.

I think I saw Elia's father somewhere in that mess. Good to know everyone's contributing.

Each spell sapped his reserves, and he felt the strain mounting. But the sight of the defenders holding their ground kept him going. Every second he could buy mattered.

Near Eugene, a young adventurer sprinted up the stairs, pale but determined. He reached the top and saluted hastily. "Captain! Sir Arthur's stable. He should rejoin you soon."

Eugene nodded, and Nick spotted a flicker of relief crossing his face. "Finally, some good news. Return to your position, young man."

The young man nodded and rushed off, disappearing into the chaos.

"Strange that it would take him this long to recover," Darien muttered from the opposite side, his deep voice carrying just enough for Nick to catch. "Arthur doesn't usually go down that easily. Nothing in this stampede should've put him out of commission."

Eugene didn't reply immediately. His eyes scanned the skies above the battlefield, his expression grim. "I'm afraid we're about to find that out," he said at last.

Nick was about to push another monster away from the wall when Eugene moved abruptly, stepping two feet to the side and raising his sword in one fluid motion. The blade ignited, and he slashed upward, sending an arc of fire into the night sky.

An ear-splitting screech answered. The defenders froze for a heartbeat, simultaneously turning toward the sound.

Out of the darkness, a massive shape emerged. Its wide, leathery wings stretched twenty feet as it hovered above the battlefield. Green-black scales glistened like wet stone, and reptilian eyes burned with a predatory intelligence. The creature's tail whipped behind it, the barbed tip promising violence.

It was a wyvern—an adult one.

There was a moment of silence as the fighters paused to acknowledge the new threat. Then, the wyvern let out another screech and dove toward the wall.

Eugene didn't hesitate. He raised his sword again, causing the flames to spread over his armor, and shouted, "Fire! Fire at it!"

The men snapped out of their stupor, and a volley of arrows shot toward the beast. Most bounced harmlessly off its armored hide, but a few exploded on contact, damaging some of the scales and eliciting a furious roar. As soon as it was done, Eugene jumped, clearing a hundred feet.

Nick could only watch as his father met the wyvern's charge, reaching the end of his arc in the sky and slashing at its outstretched claws. Flames erupted from his blade toward a damaged scale, forcing the creature to veer away at the last second.

Darien was already moving, having loaded his massive crossbow with a bolt tipped in some kind of glowing substance. He aimed carefully, tracking the wyvern as it circled for another attack.

Nick's mind, meanwhile, was locked in an internal battle. He had known that wyverns possessed a powerful wind affinity, but he hadn't expected it to be this overwhelming. It took all he could give to prevent the air from being ripped away from around his father, and he doubted the wyvern was doing it as anything more than a distraction tactic since Eugene's stats were high enough that he could survive for hours without oxygen.

He knew he wasn't doing anything consequential, but if he could give his father even just a tiny bit more strength, he would exhaust his reserves fully without hesitation. It was the least he could do when facing a monster that could order the skies to follow its whims.

The wyvern dove again, its claws outstretched. Eugene met it head-on, slashing against its talons in a burst of sparks. The force of the impact sent him flying backward. He landed like a meteor, and the ground exploded as he touched down.

Still, the exchange, though one-sided, had given the defenders time to prepare another round of attacks. Darien didn't waste the opportunity. His crossbow fired with a resounding thunk, and the glowing bolt pierced the wyvern's shoulder. The beast screeched in pain, flailing as it retreated into the sky.

Nick sagged, his form flickering dangerously. He had nothing left to give, but the sight of the injured wyvern made him exhale. They could hurt it.

Eugene emerged from the crater and roared. "Hold your positions! It's coming!"

Indeed, the monster had seemingly decided to go down with them all because a massive whirlwind was picking up around its form, shrouding everything but its glowing eyes from sight. It was so high up that they could only wait for it to attack.

Nick, who had the benefit of a shared elemental affinity, stared in horror as more mana than he had ever seen used at once gathered above them, coalescing around the wyvern's maw.