Chapter 69

Having already decided that running away or calling for help would be useless, Nick took the only path left to him.“I see. Well, you’ve met me. What do you think?” Direct confrontation was often not a good idea—especially for a small-time occultist in a world full of monsters. But with his back against the wall, Nick wasn’t about to submit quietly, especially since the Prelate had gone to the trouble of finding him when he was alone.

“Peace, child. I do not mean to alarm you.”

Nick merely raised an eyebrow.

“You know, children can hardly contain their enthusiasm when they see me. It’s refreshing to meet someone so… composed.” Marthas smiled, sounding entirely unoffended. If anything, he was amused by Nick’s reticence. That was even more irritating than his acting all high and mighty with the townsfolk.

Maintaining a carefully neutral expression, Nick crossed his arms. The Prelate’s amused tone grated on his nerves, but he wasn’t going to let that show. “I guess I’m not like most kids.”

Marthas’s smile widened even more, and despite looking for it, Nick found no malice in his expression. “Clearly not. I appreciate that about you. Too often, I’m asked for guidance and counsel. It’s refreshing to see someone willing to listen first.”

Nick tilted his head. “I don’t remember agreeing to anything yet.”

Marthas chuckled softly. “Fair enough. But I hope you will allow me to say my piece, nonetheless. I didn’t come here to bother you, child. I came to talk.”

“About what?” Nick asked cautiously. “This lesson? Or how you’re strolling onto my family’s fields as if it’s public property?”

“I’m merely getting to know the town, and I’m here to talk about potential. Your potential, specifically.”

The casual mention of his potential only made Nick feel more on edge. He hated feeling so exposed, but he had to navigate this carefully. So far, the Prelate didn’t seem to mind his flippant attitude, but that could change at any moment. “What do you mean by that?”

Martha shrugged. “For now, I’m focused on understanding the people of Floria. Some may not trust me yet, but know this—I’m here to help this town, and that includes you.”

His words were calm, almost disarming, yet they didn’t match the man’s actions and his sudden appearance here. “Help me how?” Nick asked defensively.

“By providing guidance,” Marthas said, softening his tone. "In my conversations with Vicar Alexander, I learned about your talent for spellcraft, which is apparently much greater than what is typical for someone your age, especially without formal training. Such talent should be nurtured, not allowed to lie fallow.”

“I have good instincts. It seems to be working fine so far.”

“Perhaps,” Marthas acknowledged with a nod. “But instinct can only take you so far. Real growth requires knowledge, discipline, and guidance. That’s why I came here—to offer my help.”

Nick narrowed his eyes. “Why would you want to help me? You don’t even know me.”

Marthas’s gaze became thoughtful. “True. But I know enough to see your potential. And I know your lineage, Nicolas Crowley. Your mother’s strength is deserved, and your father’s reputation precedes him. It’s no surprise that their child would inherit such a gift.”

Again, it seemed that Marthas got his kicks from testing him. It was no surprise he brought up his father, but his mother being an ex-adventurer wasn’t something that would come up in casual conversation. “I don’t see how my family has anything to do with this.”

“It has everything to do with this,” Marthas said with a touch of firmness. “You stand at a crossroads. With your abilities, you could achieve great things—or make terrible mistakes. I know because I’ve been where you are.”

Nick blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t always a Prelate, nor was I this devoted to Sashara when I was a teenager,” Marthas replied, smiling. “Once, I was a Mage like you—young, curious, and full of ambition. I pushed myself to the limits of my ability, always chasing the next discovery, the next breakthrough. And while I learned much, I also made mistakes. Mistakes that cost me dearly.”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Nick frowned. He hadn’t expected Marthas to reveal something so personal, and it threw him off balance. “What happened?”

Marthas hesitated, his gaze distant for a moment. Then, he said simply, “I realized that power alone wasn’t enough. That there was more to life than just mastery of the arcane. So, I chose a different path. The Temple of Sashara gave me a purpose beyond myself, and I’ve never regretted that decision.”

Nick crossed his arms again, unsure what to make of the story. “And you think I should do the same?”

“Not at all,” Marthas said, shaking his head. “Your path is your own to choose. But I want to help you avoid the pitfalls I fell into. To guide you, if you’ll let me.”

Nick fell silent. He didn’t trust Marthas—how could he? The man had appeared out of nowhere, wielding too much power and acting suspiciously. Yet, at the same time, his offer was priceless. There was also no denying that guidance from someone like Marthas—a Prestige Class—could push him to heights unknown.

Finally, Nick replied. “I’ll think about it.”

Marthas smiled warmly. “That’s all I ask. Take your time, child. I’ll be in town for a while yet, should you choose to seek me out.”

With that, the Prelate turned and began walking away, as unhurried as when he’d arrived.

Nick’s gaze lingered on his retreating figure. The offer of assistance felt too convenient, too perfectly timed. Yet, as much as he wanted to dismiss it outright, a small part of him hesitated. Progress was possible on his own; he knew that much. However, Akari’s brutal training had shown just how much quicker and more effective guidance could be. The gains he’d made physically in just a few days far surpassed what he’d achieved on his own over weeks.

His hands clenched in annoyance at what he was about to do. “Fine,” he muttered under his breath before calling out, “Wait!”

Marthas turned slowly. His infuriatingly serene smile suggested that he had known the outcome all along.

Nick took a steadying breath, determined to remain on guard. “If you really want to teach me, then prove it.”

The Prelate cocked his head. “I thought I just did.”

“No,” Nick said firmly, crossing his arms. “You gave me a story and an offer. That’s not proof. If you really want to help me, then show me what you’ve got to teach.”

Marthas laughed softly. “Very well, young Mage. What would you like to learn? I don’t know what your skills are, but just this once, I’ll teach you a single spell in whatever school you choose.”

Nick frowned. The question felt like a trap—he could see that clearly. It was a smart tactic for Marthas to assess his current skills and interests without asking outright. But two could play at that game.

“I want to learn a kinetic spell,” Nick said neutrally. “Something practical.”

Marthas nodded slowly, giving nothing away. “A fine choice. Kinetic magic is versatile and can serve both offensive and defensive purposes. But tell me, young Nick, what do you mean by ‘practical’? Are you seeking precision or power? Kinetic spells lend themselves well to specialization.”

“I want power,” Nick replied quickly. It was an honest answer—kinetic magic was his area of greatest theoretical knowledge, but he lacked sufficiently strong spells. If Marthas truly wanted to teach him, this would serve as a good test. He’d know immediately whether he was being swindled or if the Prelate was serious.

The Prelate’s gaze sharpened slightly as he weighed Nick’s request. “An ambitious goal. But not an impossible one. Very well, let us begin.”

Marthas stepped forward, and the air around him shifted. It wasn’t oppressive, but it held a presence, a weight that made Nick instinctively stand straighter. The Prelate extended a hand, curling his fingers slightly as if gripping an invisible sphere.

“Kinetic magic is the art of movement,” Marthas began, naturally slipping in a teaching tone. “At its core, it is the manipulation of force—pushing, pulling, lifting, throwing. The trick lies in balance and focus. Too much energy, and you lose control. Too little, and the spell never achieves its goal.”

Nick nodded, familiar with the concept.

With a flick of his wrist, a small stone floated upward from the ground, spinning lazily in the air.

“This is a basic application,” Marthas said casually. “A simple lift spell, useful for understanding the fundamentals of kinetic manipulation. Now, observe.”

The stone shot forward suddenly, zipping through the air like an arrow before stopping mid-flight. It hovered for a moment, then reversed direction, returning to Marthas’s hand as though pulled by an invisible string.

Nick’s eyes widened despite himself. He could replicate the same feat with some time and concentration, but Marthas’ control was flawless, and he’d been able to follow the stone’s path with his air sense. There was no trembling, no wasted energy. It was a level of mastery Nick could only dream of.

“I imagine you are already familiar with this much. Most young mages develop Basic manipulation spells that allow for similar results.” Nick nodded. There was no need to pretend otherwise. Alexander had already told the prelate that he could do as much.

“Then, you should be working toward getting to the second level. That’s when spells start to become useful as more than gimmicks to impress pretty girls,” From the smile he gave, Marthas expected Nick to be embarrassed.

“That second level is where spells lose their common root and begin to diverge. While magic starts as an amorphous imposition of will through mana onto the world, it is only through discipline and understanding—which are often expressed as spellforms—that we can achieve more powerful effects.” This time, the rock simply levitated on his hand. It trembled for half a second before turning into fine dust. That was pretty impressive, especially considering what that much force could do to a human.

“Now, this is about the limit of what freeform kinetic casting can achieve. I could certainly use more mana to create flashier effects, but that would depend more on my personal ability than the spell’s power. It’s definitely sufficient to handle minor threats, but we both know you are destined for greater things."

Ignoring that last part since he had no intention of discussing his future with the man so soon, Nick asked, “How does using a formal spell help in this situation? I understand the efficiency is greater, but kinetic magic, at its core, is the application of force. How does that change in any significant way?”

The question wasn’t asked out of mere curiosity. It was one of the key mysteries left to unravel about kinetic magic. After all, if someone could convert mana into energy without waste, they would have a semi-perpetual power source. Nick was eager to discover if this world, as he suspected, had found a solution to that question.

“Ah, I see you’ve stumbled upon the problem of entropy.” The look the prelate gave him sent a shiver down Nick’s spine. It was eerily reminiscent of when Elia discovered an intriguing bug to poke.

Then, a whisper echoed through the wind, and his vision went white as something attacked them.