Chapter 71
Here is Chapter 72 of "Low-Fantasy Occultist": Nick moved quietly through the back alleys, keeping his head down. Floria was silent once... Donât miss it!
Nick moved quietly through the back alleys, keeping his head down. Floria was silent once again despite the active market, as the atmosphere never had a chance to recover from the attack on the temple. Preparations for a potential new stampede were underway, and the few merchants outside the market district wore grim expressions.His parentsâ stern warnings to avoid trouble echoed in his ears, but curiosity had long since eclipsed caution. He had a plan to complete his air sense spell. It would require some danger and a lot of luck, but he was sure that he could bridge the gap with the right sacrifice.
Taking the long way to the temple to avoid being seen, Nick strolled past Ogdenâs shop, where he was standing outside, gesturing animatedly as he haggled with a group of merchants. For a moment, he considered stopping, but Ogden seemed too engrossed to notice him. The caravan wouldnât be here for long, and Nick was certain the old man wouldnât appreciate being interrupted while he swindled some fools of their coins.
Shrugging, he continued on the dirt paths until he reached the northern edge of town. On the way, he assessed his plan. He was taking a considerable risk, but he wanted to see results, and few things were more effective than ritual sacrifice.
Eliaâs home sat at the end of a quiet road lined with tall grass and piles of hay. Nick approached cautiously, extending his senses outward.
He was proven right soon enough.
A faint disturbance pricked his awarenessâsomeone was watching him. He paused, pretending to study the sky while honing his senses. A large figure with a tightly wound presence stood ahead and to the right, hidden behind the haystacks.
Nick didnât hesitate and stepped closer. As he rounded the corner, he was not surprised to see Teo, Eliaâs father. The Foxkin was imposing, and this impression was heightened by his animal-like features, framed with streaks of gray fur. He stood guard outside the house, prepared to defend his family against any potential threats.
âTeo,â Nick greeted, keeping his tone cordial. âGood morning.â
Teo blinked. âMorning, kid,â he replied, gruff as usual, but distant.
âI heard about what happened yesterday.â Nick hesitated, gauging his reaction. âHowâs Elia?â
Teoâs ears twitched, yet he didnât look away. Instead, he stared beyond him, where the forest began, his broad shoulders tense. âSheâs doing better,â he said after a pause. âWullaâs taking care of her. Sheâs good at that.â
Nick nodded, relieved to learn that Elia wasnât in critical condition. He hadnât doubted it, knowing that Wulla would use her finest herbs on her only daughter, but it would have been rude not to ask. âDo you think I could see her?â
For the first time, Teo looked directly at him. His amber eyes, usually so fierce, were tinged with fatigue. âNo,â he said firmly. âSheâs still too weak. Needs rest.â
Nick opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. The last thing he wanted was to push Teo further when he was so tense. âAlright,â he said instead. âIs there anything I can do to help?â
Teo shook his head. âIf youâre going to the temple, let them know she wonât be at todayâs lesson. Thatâs all.â Although there didnât seem to be animosity in his voice, Nick still felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Teo was a very large man, and even though he was controlling his emotions, it was clear that he was furious beneath the surface. Any father would be if his only daughter had been attacked in his home.
Nick nodded again, sensing that the conversation was over. As Teo resumed his guard, Nick lingered for a moment, extending his senses. Something about him felt off. Distracted wasnât quite the right word; it was more as if he was holding something back. But he couldnât dwell on it for long. Teoâs posture stiffened, and Nick took that as his cue to leave.
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With no better plan, Nick headed toward the temple. It was still too early for the lessons, but going back home now would mean heâd have to leave immediately to avoid being late, and he didnât want to risk being seen by either his parents or Akari in town.
The temple loomed ahead. The faint scent of incense drifted through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the Green Ocean. Nick hesitated at the entrance of the grounds, feeling the silence envelop him. The last time he had been here, heâd witnessed an exorcism. He hoped today would be better, considering it was supposed to be a simple lesson.
The usual crowd of townsfolk and children had yet to arrive, leaving only a few acolytes to sweep the steps and tidy up the entrance. Their quiet conversations and the rhythmic sound of bristles on stone faded behind him as he turned toward the back fields. He walked for a while until he was sure no one in the building could spot him.
The grass had grown taller in the months since his last visit. Kids hadnât been allowed to play this far from town since the stampede. It was just as well, as it meant no one would wander around close enough to what he was about to do.
He exhaled, letting the tension melt away and falling into the Stalking Gait. With a last glance over his shoulder to ensure no one was watching, he pulled his wand from his belt and held it loosely in his hand.
Given their insistence on structured lessons and religious doctrine, this wasnât the type of practice the temple would approve of. But Nick had never been one to stay within the lines. He wasnât here to recite hymns. He was here to grow, to learn. Whether that was from Marthas or by himself, he didnât particularly care as long as he advanced.
Settling in the center of a barren patch of field and placing a few of his last carved obsidian pieces around, he closed his eyes. The world around him faded away, replaced by the sensation of air brushing against his skin. He reached out with his mana, letting his wind affinity guide him. The sensory spell he had been developing was close; he could feel it. Every attempt brought him closer to success, but it still lacked something.
He started with what he knew worked: Ingridâs vortex principles. Her spells were powerful, destructive, and aggressive, yet they had a subtle elegance in their structure. The way she manipulated air currents to amplify force inspired him. If he could create a stable vortex, he might be able to âreadâ the disturbances it detected, like a spider sensing vibrations in its web.
Mana flowed through his wand, spiraling outward as he attempted to form the structure. Initially, it was chaotic, with the currents colliding and dissipating before they could take shape. He adjusted, concentrating on smaller, more controlled bursts of energy. Gradually, the vortex began to stabilize, and a faint hum of power vibrated in the air around him.
The first few minutes brought only frustration. The winds whispered to him, but their voices were faint and muddled, like trying to eavesdrop on a conversation through a closed door. He adjusted again, tweaking the flow of mana and refining the shape of the vortex. Each attempt was slightly better than the last. The whispers grew louder and clearer. He could almost make out individual detailsâthe swaying of grass, the fluttering of a birdâs wings.
Unfortunately, it was still far too noticeable. Anyone who could sense mana would know that unnatural winds were scouring their surroundings.
Half an hour passed like mere moments, and Nick's time to play bait was running out. He remained focused on the spell, pushing it further as he tried to complete his work and draw in his target. The whispers shifted into a song, a symphony of movement and sound that painted a vivid picture in his mind. He could feel the wind flowing through the field, brushing against every blade of grass and every stone. The world came alive to his senses, more vibrant and detailed than ever before.
Nick smiled as he sensed it: a void. At the edge of his awareness, something disturbed the harmony of the winds. It started like a smudge on an otherwise clear canvas. But as he concentrated on it, the void became clearer and more distinct. It was large, moving quickly, and coming from the forest.
âHere goes nothing,â he muttered, preparing to defend himself. He glanced around the field, extending his senses outward to confirm what his instincts already warned him. The monster was charging directly at him, and he had only moments to react.
He had gambled, and heâd won. Nick had caught the attention of something in the forest, just as he had wanted; now, he just had to hope he was strong enough to defeat it before the temple noticed, or his preparations would be in vain.
He wasnât surprised when the creature appeared, revealing itself to be yet another wraith. They seemed to serve as the vanguard of the forestâs forces at that moment and could move around town unnoticed. Just as he had hoped.
"Then, all phenomena that confront him will seem meaningless and disconnected, and his own Ego will break apart into a series of impressions that are unrelated to each other or to anything else," Nick began to chant, drawing a line with his wand across his forehead to symbolize the third eye. Its strong affinity for wind wasnât a drawback in this particular circumstance, as he was aiming for a wind-based spell.
"Yes, there is peace. There is no of any kind, much less any observation, feeling, or impression. There is only a faint awareness, like the fragrance of jasmine."
The body of the Seer lies in a waking sleep that is deeper than sleep, and his mind is still; he resembles a well in the desert, shaded by windless palms.
And it is night; because the night encompasses the entire expanse of space, not just the limited night of Earth, there is no thought of dawn. For the light of the Sun creates an illusion, blinding man's eyes to the glory of the stars. Unless he is in the shadow of the Earth, he cannot see the stars. Similarly, unless he is shielded from the light of life, he cannot behold Nuit. Here, then, I remain in unchanging midnight, completely at peace.
Iâve forgotten where I am and who I am. I am suspended in nothingness.
Now the veil opens of itselfâ
The wraith extended a root-like hand, preparing to gouge Nickâs eyes.
âGot you.â