Chapter 73

Nick woke up, feeling the damp earth beneath his palms and hearing the distant rustling of leaves in the morning breeze. His limbs ached, his head throbbed, and for a moment, he considered the possibility that he had simply died and been reincarnated into a new, equally inconvenient existence. However, the familiar presence looming over him quickly shattered that thought.“Finally awake, are we?” That was a known voice. It wasn’t even the first time he heard it while sleeping.

Nick blinked against the sunlight, groggily pushing himself up. Vicar Alexander stood before him, arms crossed, wearing the expression of a man who had already run out of patience for the day.

Once again, that was a familiar sight. What wasn’t familiar was that they were in the aftermath of the ritual he had conducted—a ritual he didn’t have time to conceal—and yet the priest didn’t seem any more exasperated than he usually was when he found Nick asleep during his sermons.

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he scanned his surroundings. The fields were quiet. No murmuring acolytes, no inquisitive priests rushing to investigate the fight. That was strange. He distinctly remembered the wraith’s final, dramatic demise—it hadn't exactly been subtle. Given how many new people were living in the temple, he would have expected to become the day’s entertainment, if they didn’t accuse him of heretical experiments.

Before he could ask, Alexander reached into his robes and withdrew a small vial filled with a deep amber liquid. “Here. Drink this.”

Nick took the offered vial but hesitated, turning it over between his fingers. He arched an eyebrow. “You know, normally when someone hands me a mysterious potion after I pass out, I like to ask a few questions first.”

The vicar huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If I intended to poison you, I would have done it while you were unconscious. Drink it.”

Nick chuckled softly. “Relax, I recognized Ogden’s brew the moment I saw it. I was just messing with you.” He uncorked the vial and downed the contents in one motion. Warmth spread through his limbs as the aches lessened and the tension behind his eyes faded. The potion did its job well, though it couldn't completely erase the lingering feeling of something vast and incomprehensible brushing against his mind.

Alexander noted his wince and quirked an eyebrow. “Is it not working?”

“No, it is,” Nick said, rolling his shoulders experimentally. “This is just... something else.”

Alexander studied him for a moment but ultimately let it go with a sigh. “I hope whatever you did was worth it,” he said. “I can only keep the congregation away for so long, and I suspect the Prelate is already on his way back. When he hears that you fought something near the temple grounds, he’s going to have some questions.”

Nick had considered it before setting off. He had chosen to take that risk, especially since being secretive hadn’t worked out well so far.

He grimaced. "Fair enough. I wasn’t exactly being subtle.” Glancing around again, he remained puzzled by the lack of bystanders. “How did you manage to keep people away?”

Alexander shrugged. “My authority still carries weight around here, even if it has its limits. Acolytes listen when I tell them to mind their own business. I’m technically the highest-ranking priest in Floria when the Prelate isn’t around.” His gaze then sharpened slightly. “But I won’t be able to shield you forever. If you have any mess to clean up before the Prelate arrives, I suggest you do it quickly.”

Nick frowned at how Alexander spoke about Marthas. There was no outright defiance, but something else—a quiet resistance that he hadn't expected. He had thought the vicar to be entirely subservient, especially since he had readily shared information about Nick with the temple’s delegation before. Yet now, he seemed almost protective.

He looked around once more, this time paying closer attention. Yes, the field was charred, and yes, there was a remnant of ambient power that suggested something unusual had occurred, but the obsidian pieces he’d used were missing, and the area had been somewhat cleared of polluted mana.

Anyone lacking postcognitive abilities would find it extremely difficult to comprehend what had occurred, aside from the fact that there was a fight—something they likely would have suspected given the light show.

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The scorched ground was now the only physical proof of what had happened. The Vicar had done something, erasing any trace of what had taken place. Why? To protect him? To prevent the main temple from knowing the full extent of his actions?

Nick wasn’t sure how he felt about that. His suspicious side told him there had to be some secondary objective, but the facts were incontrovertible.

Alexander had always been an enigma. He followed orders but never seemed fully loyal to the Prelate. And now, after everything, he was giving Nick a chance to come up with a believable excuse before facing the inevitable questions. It was unexpected. The thought made Nick frown. Maybe he had misjudged the man. Perhaps he wasn't just a loyal hound to the Prelate but someone who truly cared about this community and the people in it—including Nick.

The conflict must have shown on his face because Alexander let out a soft sigh. “I may not be able to defy direct orders, but that doesn’t mean I will abandon my responsibilities,” he said. “And that includes you. We may not have always gotten along, but you are part of this town, and I won’t let outsiders trample over that.”

Nick blinked. That was... more than he expected.

He exhaled, letting himself sit with that information for a moment. Then, with a tired chuckle, he muttered, “Well, that’s reassuring.”

Alexander rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me regret it.” He then stretched, groaning, “Ugh, I really need to level up a couple more times. I heard that at fifty END, you stop having back pain. It’s a shame that priestly classes only gain physical stats if they’re of the paladin type; I always thought we should be rewarded more for our patience. That’s a kind of endurance too, isn’t it?” With that, he patted Nick’s shoulder and started to walk away.

“I won’t take too long!” Nick called, mentally preparing to summon the notifications he could feel at the edges of his mind.

“See that you don’t.”

Watching the man’s retreating back for a moment, Nick figured he’d have to do something nice for him. They didn’t often get along, but it seemed they were on the same side.

Once the man was far enough, Nick pulled up the notifications, bracing for pain. It didn’t come. Opening one eye cautiously, he was rewarded with a blue window floating harmlessly before him. Nothing seemed different.

He opened his second eye and read the text. This time, when he gasped, it had nothing to do with pain.

Three levels in a single morning. He had struggled to progress at all since reaching level twenty, yet now he had soared past his expectations. He swallowed hard and dismissed the level up notifications with a thought.

He exhaled slowly and brandished his wand, casting his latest spell without even bothering to check for the notification.

Immediately, he was overwhelmed by a flood of new sensations. He could perceive the movement of the air with a clarity he had never felt before. It was no longer just wind; it was into information, whispering of movement, pressure, and purpose. He sensed the trees rustling even before the breeze reached them and noticed how the grass bent as small creatures moved through. The world seemed alive in a way it never had before, as if he had been blind his entire life and was only now seeing with true vision.

Taking another deep breath, he let go of the magic, satisfied with the crash test. His body still ached, but it was manageable now. Testing his balance, he rolled his shoulders and then took a tentative step forward. There was no dizziness. That was good.

You have completed the

You have received 19.999 EXP

You have learned a new skill:

You have received 39.999 EXP

The spell’s name alone made him grin. His instincts told him this was something rare, unique. The system had recognized the sacrifice and the battle and rewarded him accordingly.

“There’s something beneficial about being an occultist beyond the skullduggery. I bet the priests gain just as much from performing the propitiatory rites of their faith, and they don’t face nearly as much flak for it. This is discrimination!” Since he was well enough for his usual theatrics, Nick decided he was good enough to stand up now.

His thoughts drifted to the Vine Wraith. Level twenty at its weakest, and he had killed it alone. He had accomplished something that should have been impossible for someone his age. No wonder Alexander had given him that look.

His gaze drifted back to the temple. He should head back soon. Alexander was right—he needed to come up with an excuse. The congregation wouldn’t stay away forever, and the Prelate had probably been informed about the fight. He needed a story, one that explained the damage, his exhaustion, and the sudden increase in his abilities without making it sound impossible.

Maybe he had been experimenting with wind magic, testing his limits. That was believable. He had always been reckless, and no one would be surprised if he pushed himself too hard and passed out. The burned grass? A miscalculation—a spell gone wrong. Something became unstable, and he barely managed to contain it before losing consciousness. Minor Mana Manipulation would be his cover if anyone asked how he had ended up summoning fire.

Thanks to his increased level, Nick now had a whopping seventy mana. That was more than enough for a cleansing, especially since he had so much ash on hand.

“Huh, I already used so much Thalamic magic, I might as well end it with it, too.”

With that, Nick got ready to perform the most underwhelming ritual of all time. Also known as the detective’s bane in modern circles, it was a corruption of the Thalamic invocation to Horus—technically the most sacred of the tradition.

When the gods and spirits stopped responding to the cultists’ prayers, their practices were often revised to focus on more urgent issues. This arose from the need to conceal failed rituals and attempted sacrifices, and it strayed so far from what the Hermetic Order deemed sacred that Nick felt slightly better about participating in it. He didn’t like adhering to one school of magic for too long anyway.

With his arms spread wide, he chanted, “How shall I humble myself enough before Thee? Thou art the mighty and unconquered Lord of the Universe: I am a spark of Thine unutterable Radiance. How should I approach Thee? but Thou art Everywhere.”

The ambient mana began coalescing, rapidly collapsing unto itself in preparation for an invocation. Nick smirked.

“Be Nowhere, cur of a god. I have no need of thee.”

The invocation failed, and the mana vanished as if it had never existed in the first place.