Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai-Chapter 81 - 80

The fields south of Floria stretched into the night like an endless sea of shifting shadows. Nick and Eugene moved swiftly, their footfalls muffled by the soft earth. Although Eugene’s natural speed greatly surpassed Nick’s, the younger mage pushed hard, drawing on every ounce of stamina his recent training had provided him.

He couldn’t keep up with his father’s top speed, but at least he was matching the pace of an average soldier. That realization sparked a flicker of pride in Nick, and when Eugene cast a glance his way, it was clear he’d noticed too.

"You’ve been working hard," he said approvingly. "For a mage, that’s impressive."

Nick grinned, forcing his voice to come out as evenly as possible. "I have some good teachers."

Eugene snorted softly, scanning the dark horizon. "Let’s hope it pays off tonight."

Nick didn’t respond, focusing instead on scanning the path ahead for the wayward adventurers.

They kept going for a few more minutes before Eugene slowed, catching something in the moonlight. He crouched, motioning for Nick to do the same, and pointed to faint impressions in the dirt—a trail left by the patrol.

"They passed through here," Eugene murmured, tracing the prints with his fingers. "No sign of a struggle. They were moving normally."

Nick nodded, concentrating on [Wind God’s Third Eye] to monitor the disturbances in the ground. He kept his focus narrowed, following the trail as it moved southward.

"This way," he said, standing and gesturing for Eugene to follow. "It’s still fresh."

Eugene extinguished the faint flames that flickered along his arms. "Good. I’ll go dark for now, then. No need to draw attention to ourselves."

Even in the shadow, Nick could still see the impressions in the soil in his mind. Initially, the trail was straightforward, hugging the main route the adventurers were assigned to patrol.

But then, abruptly, it veered into the forest.

Eugene frowned as they paused at the edge of the trees. "This wasn’t part of their route. Either they saw something worth investigating or…" His expression darkened. "Or they were lured in."

Nick grunted. Figures. "Which means?"

"Which means there’s a powerful enemy nearby," his father replied grimly. "One capable of drawing an entire team off course without raising an alarm."

He straightened, placing his hand on the hilt of his blade. "Be ready, Nick. We might still find them alive, but if we don’t... I want you to leave any fighting to me unless you absolutely have to intervene."

Nick nodded, gripping his wand tightly.

They stepped into the forest. The dense canopy above blotted out the moonlight, making it almost impossible to see. The air was thicker here, damp with the scent of moss and decay. The sounds of the night—chirping insects, rustling leaves—seemed muted.

The further they went, the more Nick began to notice an oddity in the air. It wasn’t tangible, but it set his teeth on edge—a subtle wrongness that seemed to press against his senses. At first, he thought it was just his imagination, but as they moved deeper into the woods, the feeling grew stronger.

"Do you feel that?" he asked softly.

Eugene nodded grimly. "It’s faint, but yes. Something’s wrong."

Nick focused, letting [Wind God’s Third Eye] stretch further. The sensation became clearer—a disturbance in the natural flow of the wind, as though the air was being filtered through a dirty cloth.

And then he recognized it.

This is the domain. It has gotten much further south than I thought it would.

Nick struggled with how to notify Eugene without revealing too much. It felt crazy to be concerned about that right now, but he wasn’t sure if anyone could be listening, and he had no intention of handing the enemy such valuable information on a silver platter.

Finally, he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. "Dad," Nick whispered, his voice tight with urgency. "There’s a dense concentration of mana ahead. The flavor of it… it’s the same as the Vine Wraith."

Eugene’s head snapped toward him. He didn’t ask for clarification or doubt Nick’s words. Instead, he raised his sword, the blade catching the faint moonlight and gleaming ominously.

"Stay behind me," Eugene ordered, leaving no room for argument. "We might have found what we’re looking for. Be ready for anything."

Nick nodded, falling into step behind his father.

The visibility worsened as they continued walking, with a thin mist clinging to every tree and shrub, and Nick’s stomach twisted. It had been invisible before—just a sensation at the edge of his awareness. The fact that it was now visible implied it was changing and growing stronger.

The trail was still there, but it was fainter, as if the earth itself hesitated to reveal its secrets. Still, they followed it, step by careful step, further into the unknown.

"Be ready to run," Eugene repeated. "We’re close to the real depths; anything could happen."

Nick didn’t need the reminder. The oppressive atmosphere was enough to keep him on edge. He was ready to cast at the first sign of danger.

Minutes passed, stretching into an eternity. The only sounds were their muffled footsteps and the occasional creak of the trees. And then, suddenly, Nick froze.

He felt it—a presence on the edge of his spell’s range. It was faint but unmistakable, a flicker of life amidst the stillness.

"There’s something ahead," he said, barely above a whisper.

Eugene nodded, tensing.

As they advanced, the presence grew clearer, resolving into multiple signatures. "I’ve got them," Nick murmured.

The first sign of trouble was the blood. It was smeared across the bark of a dark tree, glistening in the faint light that filtered through the canopy. Just beyond it, in a small clearing, lay the remains of a struggle.

Gear was scattered across the ground—broken weapons, torn fabric, and a shattered crystal lantern. But there were no bodies, only more blood and the faint traces of tracks leading further into the forest.

Eugene crouched. "This isn’t good."

And then they saw them.

Four adventurers lay sprawled or kneeling at the farthest edges of the clearing, barely illuminated by the moonlight. All were in varying states of injury. One man, tall and broad-shouldered with a battered tower shield, slumped against a tree, his armor splattered with blood. A lithe woman with twin daggers knelt on the ground, clutching her side as she gasped for breath.

They didn’t seem to notice Eugene and Nick approaching. Instead, their eyes darted wildly around them, and they flailed uselessly at an enemy Nick couldn’t see. Clearly, they thought they were fighting something—or someone—but whatever it was remained hidden.

Nick stepped forward, about to call out to them, but Eugene held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. "It’s useless to bother with them if it is what I think," Eugene murmured. "We need to flush it out first."

With that, he stepped into the clearing, his entire body igniting with a deep, radiant red flame. The light poured off him in waves, chasing away the shadows and illuminating the clearing in stark relief.

The heat washed over Nick, and for a moment, the oppressive mist seemed to recoil as the air shimmered under Eugene’s presence.

"Enough games!" Eugene roared like a thunderclap. "Show yourself, coward! Face me, the Warden of Floria, or be branded as nothing more than a pathetic shade skulking in the dark by your court!"

The forest went deathly silent. Even the faint sounds of the adventurers’ ragged breaths seemed to fade, leaving only the crackle of Eugene’s flames and the pounding of Nick’s heartbeat in his ears.

For a moment, he thought the call would go unanswered. The air grew still, the mist hanging heavy and unmoving. But then, he felt a shift in the wind, a subtle ripple that had no clear origin. It was like the forest itself was inhaling, preparing for something.

"There," Nick whispered, pointing to the right side of the clearing. He could sense it even before seeing it—something unnatural was coming.

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Eugene turned just as the figure began to coalesce.

It emerged from the mist. An otherworldly figure, its features shifting so much that Nick’s eyes began to sting before it abruptly solidified. It was tall, standing well over seven feet. Its limbs were slender and almost spindly, but they moved with an unsettling grace.

Its face was humanoid but alien, as the sharp planes of its features were too perfect and symmetrical to be human. Its skin was pale, almost translucent green, with veins of glowing light running just beneath the surface. Long, pointed ears framed a crown of jagged, silver-like branches that seemed to grow straight from its skull, giving it an otherworldly presence.

Eyes like liquid gold stared at them, unblinking, radiating an unsettling intelligence. Its lips curved into a smile, yet there was no warmth in it—only a cold amusement, as if it found their presence both bothersome and entertaining.

Nick’s breath caught in his throat. The creature reminded him of a painting he’d seen of Oberon, the faerie king from Earth’s myths, but stripped of any regal elegance. It was more alien, its beauty tinged with an undeniable menace.

The fae tilted its head almost playfully, though the malice beneath it was unmistakable. "What an amusing display of fatherhood," it said, lilting and melodic, as if the words were part of some alien song. "Tell me, Warden of Floria, why have you come to the edge of the Summer Gods’ court? Your time has not yet come."

There was something eerie about the way the fae spoke, as if it were privy to knowledge that no one else could access. It wasn’t merely dismissing Eugene—it was speaking of his death as if it were an unchangeable fact of the future.

But Eugene didn’t flinch. His voice, when he replied, was steady and controlled, though his tone had an edge of challenge. "Any attack on those under my protection demands a response in kind. These people are mine, and I will do as my oath commands."

Nick blinked in surprise at his father’s language. The choice of words felt older than anything he had heard Eugene say before. It was formal, almost archaic. And I can’t help but think I heard them before…

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Then it hit him.

Eugene was repeating the words of their ancestor as a means of communicating without inadvertently entangling himself in the fae’s games.

The being sneered, its perfect features twisting into something ugly. "And what is the fault," it said, drawing out the words with mockery, "in playing with those who wander too far into the forest? The Summer Court does not tolerate trespassers lightly, Warden. Surely even you understand that."

Its gaze shifted then, locking onto Nick. The grin that spread across its face was almost too wide, stretching its lips past the point of human anatomy. Its golden eyes glimmered with amusement and hunger.

Eugene immediately stepped in front of Nick, blocking the fae’s line of sight with his broad shoulders. The sudden motion seemed to amuse the creature even more. It chuckled, sounding like a tinkling bell mixed with the hiss of wind through leaves.

"Oh, what’s this?" it purred. "The Warden has brought me a gift. How delightful. And here I thought this night would be mundane. But no, you’ve delivered a delicious enigma to my doorstep."

The fae’s gaze flicked upward as if addressing the stars. "Perhaps the court will reward me for such an offering." Its smile returned to Nick, razor-sharp. "What say you, Warden? Shall we play a game?"

The blood drained from Nick’s face, and he had to slip into the Stalking Gait’s breathing pattern to calm down. What he understood about fae indicated that anyone unfortunate enough to be taken to their courts never returned.

Eugene, however, was not rattled. His body ignited with a burst of fiery light, brighter and more intense than before. His sword gleamed like molten metal, and the air around him shimmered with heat.

"You will find no bargains here," he growled. "Not with me. And you will not lay a single finger on my son."

Before the fae could respond, Eugene acted, seemingly finished with their word games. He closed the distance between them in an instant, quicker than Nick had ever seen him move before. His blade slashed in a fiery arc, aiming to cut the enemy in two.

The fae’s eyes widened—not in fear, but in startled amusement, as if Eugene’s attack was the most entertaining thing it had seen in a long time. Still, it moved with great speed and grace, twisting its long limbs as it sidestepped the strike.

The ground where Eugene’s sword struck erupted in a wave of heat and fire, instantly scorching the earth black. A few feet away, the fae stood grinning wider than ever, its golden eyes glinting with savage delight.

"Oh, Warden," it said, dripping with mockery. "You’ve made this night so much more interesting."