Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

Nick hovered just above the desk, enjoying his invisibility more than expected—this kind of ritual had been extremely dangerous and limited to a small area back on Earth. The ease and freedom it gave him here were exhilarating, but he was honest enough to admit that he might just enjoy pulling one over the cranky vicar's eyes.

He watched Alexander intently, eager to hear the conversation unfold. Something about how the vicar handled the artifact piqued his interest, but had it just been that, he would have floated away. He was no peeping tom. However, the rigidness in the man's spine made it seem like valuable information would be shared. He wasn't about to miss on that.

"The light of Sashara shines brightly on Floria, Bishop," Alexander murmured, his tone full of reverence. Ugh, true believers. "I have seen no hint of heresy within the town."

"It is good indeed to be blessed by Her light. Especially for those furthest from Her domain," the bishop replied. "The faithful must be protected, even in such remote places, lest they fall into temptation and are led astray."

Nick rolled his eyes. Typical temple rhetoric—always talking about their goddess like she was the solution to the world's problems. Still, he listened closely. There had to be more to this conversation.

Alexander nodded, though the bishop couldn't see him. "Yes, Your Grace. The preliminary assessments conducted after the Class ceremony are mostly correct. None of the townspeople received cursed classes, even those tied to the Forest Gods."

Nick's ears metaphorically perked up. Cursed classes? The Forest Gods? This was precisely the kind of thing he needed to know. Even just the fact that such things existed at all sent his mind spinning. He mentally urged the vicar to continue.

Alexander hesitated, his fingers tracing the edge of the artifact. "For this, I must thank you, bishop. We would have surely lost many without the increased divine protection you cast over the temple to shield it from outside interference. The Green Ocean's proximity is a constant threat. I know many in the central congregation would like to give up on Floria, but the town is undergoing something of a resurgence. Abandoning it now would mean losing a valuable foothold."

The bishop let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "It is my duty to keep the feral gods from grasping what they shouldn't. Their influence must be curtailed, even if it requires me to fight with my brothers and sisters."

Nick mentally noted everything being said as he circled the room. This conversation was growing more intriguing by the minute. Feral gods? The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. After all, if Sashara was truly a goddess, and he knew through his studies that others were worshipped throughout the kingdom, why wouldn't there be any indigenous to the Green Ocean?

The bishop's voice shifted after a moment of silence when Alexander didn't immediately continue, becoming sharper. "What do you mean by 'mostly correct'?"

Nick noticed the vicar stiffen. There was a moment of palpable hesitation, which Nick interpreted as uncertainty—was he debating how much to reveal? The man was always careful with his words, even when discussing things with kids.

Every day, I discover that I don't know nearly as much as I'd have liked, but I understand people well. He's strict, but he's not a bad guy.

Alexander exhaled slowly. "Two children have proven to be more than we initially estimated during the ceremony."

Ah fuck. That might be me.

"Elaborate," the bishop commanded, leaving no room for hesitation.

Alexander cleared his throat and adjusted his posture, hands clasped tightly in his lap. "The first is the foxkin girl, Elia, daughter of Teo. She has shown a deeper connection to her ancestry than expected. I suspect she may soon display more obvious signs of traditional arcane abilities, though they have not fully manifested yet."

The bishop responded without missing a beat. "Keep an eye on her. The foxkin are known to be susceptible to the influence of their ancestors' gods. Ensure she remains within the light of Sashara, but do not act rashly. We have proved that even the beastmen can be kept in the fold if managed properly, but they don't answer well to explicit constraints. I'll have someone send you our last study on the matter."

Nick filed that piece of information away. Elia wasn't exactly his friend—he was far too secretive and mature to form bonds with his age mates easily—but she wasn't a stranger either. She was a good kid, if very impulsive, and the mere thought of the temple's shadowy leadership wanting to control her made his hands clench.

I have never been good with authority figures. Comes with the profession, I'm afraid. You can't be an Occultist hiding from both mundane and magical society and be a fan of large, controlling organizations.

Alexander shifted in his seat, his expression more guarded now. "The second child is Nicholas Crowley. The son of the town's captain."

Nick's blood went cold. His focus sharpened instantly, all thoughts of Elia forgotten.

"And what makes him problematic?"

Alexander hesitated again, his brow furrowed in thought. "His reaction to the Class ceremony was unusual. At first, I dismissed his fainting and acting weirdly as mere problems caused by an unexpected influx of mana. He told me he was a Mage, and I believed him. However, upon closer inspection, I realized he exhibited signs that were difficult to explain. His mana is significantly harder to keep track of than any other mage within the first tier I have ever met, yet he's already developed at least one spell on his own. The foxgirl told me that he caused nearby roots to attack a minor monster to save them. Without external teaching, this is either the mark of a genius or something more problematic."

Nick felt a strange mix of curiosity, apprehension, and an odd sense of vindication for going through all the trouble of doing the ritual. Alexander didn't know the half of it. Still, this was dangerous territory. They knew more than he was comfortable with. He couldn't afford for the bishop or the vicar to dig too deep.

The bishop's voice returned, colder now. "Do you suspect external interference?"

Alexander looked uncomfortable, glancing at the artifact as if it might judge him for his uncertainty. "It's possible, Your Grace. But I have no definitive proof. His parents reassured me that no passing adventurer has taken him on as an apprentice, though even they admit to not knowing everything he does during the day. He is a quiet boy and keeps to himself, though his curiosity about the Green Ocean is well known. I initially feared the Forest Gods might have tainted him, but after a more thorough inspection under the guise of punishing him for his wandering into the Ocean, I removed that possibility."

The bishop hummed, evidently reflecting on the matter. "Monitor him closely, vicar. If his abilities continue to develop, and he is as promising as you say, we might have to expend some resources to bring him into the fold. Even if the boy's father is reticent about giving him up, offering our aid in finding him a friendly master could do much."

"I understand, Your Grace. I will keep him under close watch," Alexander replied, not commenting on Nick's well-known dismissal of all things religious.

That convinced him that he was right in his assessment of the man. He'd said more than he was strictly comfortable with—had known more than he was comfortable with—but hadn't made him out to be some heretic like he easily could have.

The call ended soon after, and Alexander put the orb back in the drawer, pushing some mana into a tiny rune Nick hadn't even noticed, making the artifact disappear from his senses.

So they have active methods of hiding something. I expected it, but it's good to know. They aren't nearly as limited as we were. Come to think of it, that might be why Ogden gave me the ghostgrass pouch. If inert materials are only useful for alchemy rather than as universal stealth aids, their price would be vastly lower… That damn old man made me think it was a princely gift!

Nick decided to leave after waiting a few more minutes and being reassured that the vicar wouldn't drop more secrets on him. He had heard more than enough to occupy him for the next week. He backed away from the scene, gliding effortlessly through the temple walls.

An explosion of power surged through Nick's veins. More mana than he had ever produced before swept through him, and he barely had the presence of mind to avoid channeling it through "veins" or a "core," just as Old Ogden had suggested. He still hadn't been able to confirm whether that was a real risk, but it was better to be careful.

Instead, he grabbed it all with a will he hadn't known he possessed. [Parsimonia] coming to his rescue, he suspected. It allowed him to avoid undue leaking and, after taking a deep breath, to stand up from the circle and wipe the drool from his mouth.

That stupid habit had to follow me here, too. Oh well, I guess I shouldn't complain after what I just did.

Nick grinned. Yes, getting the ingredients for the ritual had been a pain, and preparing it even more so. Yes, he had risked discovery by one or both his parents by doing it in the house, but he couldn't afford to be interrupted while outside his body, and spirits were less likely to bother him if he was within a lived-in building.

That it had all led to learning very interesting information and earning a giant chunk of experience after weeks of barely advancing felt like pure vindication.

Status.

That is a lot of growth. I shouldn't be surprised. I planned for this after being stalled by low-level spells for so long. But somehow, I expected it wouldn't be this easy.

Nick could admit that some of that came from his ridiculous expectations. Being level eleven only a month and a half after the Class ceremony was ludicrous, as far as he knew.

His brother Devon, who had been classed for two entire years, was level twelve, and that was with the benefit of having their mother teach him every single day and their father for more specialized training whenever the man was available. He'd probably grow more now that she didn't need to watch over Nick as much and had more time to dedicate to his instruction.

Hell, there were adults in Floria right now who could call upon their status and be presented with a barely superior result. The average level a non-adventurer adult was expected to reach was twenty, and it was rare to find someone who put in the effort to go beyond that, at least in Floria.

I have a lot more mana than I ever did in my past life. My body might be that of a kid, but I honestly think I'm stronger now than I was then. I'm certainly a lot more flexible than I ever was, aside from that one time I did the Easter Island ritual wrong and got stuck with bendy joints for forty-nine days. My mind can concentrate for much longer, though admittedly, that might be simply because I'm no longer carrying a smartphone everywhere. Ugh, I miss the internet. Well, what I mean is that I need to look at how much better my life is and take advantage of the chance I was given.

Rambling pep talk aside, Nick felt much better about his future than ever before. Yes, he might have just uncovered a plot to influence Elia and him to join a cult, and yes, the gigantic forest next door was apparently host to feral gods and about to undergo significant change. He had much work to do to become who he wanted to be. But for the first time in either life, Nick was doing more than just scraping by.