Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

Nick followed Ogden through the shop, descending into a cool, stone-walled chamber below. This was the same space where the wyvern had once been held, whose skeletal remains would fuel Nick's growth. The room was empty except for a sturdy work table in the center.

On the table were a few objects—chunks of monster cores, a set of polished pencils, and what appeared to be a vial of green slime. Next to them sat a stack of papers, filled with intricate diagrams and dense annotations in a tidy hand that Nick recognized as Rhea's.

His eyes lingered on the notes as curiosity gnawed at him. The designs were for a wand—no surprise there—but there was an elegance and a level of detail that suggested a deeper understanding of the crafting process than Nick had anticipated. Rhea had clearly invested a lot of thought into this.

"Where is Rhea?" Nick asked, looking up at Ogden.

The old man turned, pinning Nick with an unsettling stare. "I sent her and the foxgirl on an errand," he said. He was outwardly calm, but his voice held a weight that made Nick's skin prickle. "They'll be back soon."

Nick nodded, and his unease grew as Ogden's eyes bore into him. The alchemist wasn't known for idle chatter, but the silence stretching between them now felt different. It was pointed and intentional, as though Ogden were waiting for something—or testing him.

Nick met the gaze without flinching, though the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise. The old man's expression was intense, not just curious or concerned. It was heavier, like the weight of a hammer poised to strike.

Seconds ticked by, then a minute. Two.

Nick kept his posture relaxed, his hands resting casually at his sides, though his pulse had quickened. He didn't know what game Ogden was playing, but he wasn't about to let the old man see him squirm. He might not be a full adult, not with the way his two personalities had melded, but he wasn't just a kid either. He was an old hand at power games, and he'd gone through much worse than this in an attempt to make him speak.

He's got the piercing glare down, but he lacks the madness of a cultist with nothing to lose. Those will make you crap your pants, alright.

Finally, Ogden nodded as though satisfied by something only he could measure. "Good," he said. "You didn't break."

Nick lifted an eyebrow. "Break?"

His question was answered when a system window popped up.

Fucking hell, is everyone trying to get into my mind? I guess that was an intimidation skill or something like that. I barely felt anything, but I suppose that without [Blasphemy], it would have been much worse.

Ogden straightened, tapping his fingers against the edge of the table. "The Prelate will be a far tougher interrogator than I am if he ever suspects anything untoward."

The words struck Nick like a slap, and for a moment, he could only stare at the alchemist in stunned silence, forgetting his growing outrage. "What are you talking about?" he asked cautiously, even though his stomach had already begun to churn.

Ogden's lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. "Don't play dumb, boy. You know exactly what I mean."

Nick's every instinct screamed at him to deny and deflect, but something in Ogden's tone made him hesitate. He chose his next words carefully. "If you're implying something, I'd rather you just say it."

Ogden chuckled dryly, though the sound lacked warmth. "I don't need to know all your secrets, Nicholas Crowley. But I've been around long enough to recognize when someone isn't what they appear to be." He gestured vaguely toward the table, his calloused hand brushing over the unfinished wand components. "Whether it's pure, world-breaking talent, access to ancient tomes of power, or something else entirely, it doesn't matter much to me. What truly matters is how you handle it."

Nick swallowed hard, the knot in his chest tightening. "And what exactly do you think I'm 'handling'?"

Ogden's expression darkened, his gaze unwavering. "This isn't about what I think. It's about what others will see: the Prelate, the temple clergy, any adventurer passing through who knows how to spot the unusual and doesn't respect your family enough to keep their mouth shut. Floria won't remain a quiet little backwater forever. People will start to notice things, and when they do, they'll ask questions—questions you might not want to answer."

Nick felt his jaw tighten. He considered every possible response and every strategy to regain control of the conversation, but Ogden wasn't finished.

"I'll shield what you do here today," the alchemist said, dropping to a near growl. "No one will know about your wand until you use it openly. But this is a stopgap, not a solution. You've got potential, kid. More than most. But potential attracts attention, and I don't care about you enough to actively protect you."

There was no malice in Ogden's tone, but Nick recognized that he had reached the end of the old man's generosity. Whether on Earth or here, powerful masters rarely gave their experience and abilities away for free, and never repeatedly.

He exhaled slowly, working through the Stalking Gait to stay calm and enhance his reflexes in the remote case things went wrong. "You don't trust me."

Ogden raised an eyebrow. "Trust has nothing to do with it. I'm giving you a warning, boy. And maybe a chance."

Nick met his gaze, not backing down out of sheer stubbornness. "A chance for what?"

"To figure out what you want to do when the hammer falls," Ogden said simply.

Finally, he stepped back, tapping his cane lightly against the stone floor. "The girls will be back soon. You'd best get your head on straight before they return. Crafting a wand might not be reserved for Prestige artificers, but you'll regret it if you end up with a shoddy focus and waste those ingredients."

"I'll be careful," Nick said once he was sure his voice would be steady.

Ogden grunted, the sound halfway between approval and dismissal. "Good." He turned, making to leave, but Nick lifted a hand, stopping in his tracks

He hesitated for a moment before pressing forward. The old man already knew too much for comfort. What was another thing? "Last night… was there anything unusual? Were you attacked?"

Ogden straightened, his brows knitting together in thought. "I wasn't, no. But my shop's protected. It has been so for a long time," he said after a moment. "With wards strong enough to keep out anything that I wouldn't notice. The rest of the town, though…" He trailed off, his sharp eyes narrowing. "It wouldn't surprise me if something from the forest was testing the waters again."

Nick frowned. It wasn't too far from his hypothesis, but Ogden's words implied there was some sort of regularity to these attacks. He hadn't heard of anything of the sort before, aside from Roberta's accounting.

"Think about it," Ogden said, his tone gruff. "Floria is becoming a battleground once more. The last stampede of monsters ended in a great victory for us, but not everything out there is a mindless beast. Some have brains. Enough to understand that if they can weaken us before another wave, they'll have a better chance next time. Removing budding talents would significantly reduce our ability to defend ourselves in the long term." His answer implied he understood Nick was the one targeted. This was expected, as Ogden was sharp enough to pick on the subtext.

"So why me? Why not my father or someone else? I'm sure there are many powerful adventurers who fight within the Green Ocean without protections like yours."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Ogden shrugged. "The fae don't follow rules that make sense to us. They might have sensed your mana during the battle and thought you'd be an easy target, or it could simply be a matter of whim. The reason doesn't matter. What does is that they failed. You're obviously still here, unscathed. That makes it unlikely that it was a powerful being who attacked you."

The old man's bluntness wasn't exactly comforting, but it was grounding in its own way. Nick nodded, choosing not to press further. "Thanks." Of course, he knew that even if it had been a powerful being, the outcome would have been the same, so he wasn't about to lower his guard.

Blasphemy is a fantastic protection, as it held against the domains of two gods, but it also just offers blanket defense. It does not tell me what attacked or how it happened. Your next read awaits at empire

Ogden inclined his head slightly but said nothing more. As if on cue, Nick felt a shift in the air as two presences entered his range. The girls were back.

Nick and Ogden both silently decided to drop the matter. They weren't likely to find any answer anyway, and neither wanted to disturb the girls. They had an important matter to take care of.

"There you are," Rhea said once they entered the room, setting down a small crate she'd been carrying. "We're ready to go. Ogden, I assume you've—"

"Left it all to you," the alchemist interrupted, gruff but not unkind. He shot a pointed glance at Rhea. "Follow the procedures we talked about. No shortcuts."

Rhea nodded, lips twitching upward in a faint smile. "Understood."

Ogden shot a final glance at Nick, his expression unreadable, before turning and heading for the stairs. When he reached the top, he called back, "Don't waste good materials, and don't blow yourselves up. The clean-up would be too messy as that room doesn't have good aeration."

Elia chuckled softly as the door closed behind him. "Grumpy as ever," she said, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

Nick noticed the strain in her expression and the slight tightness at the corners of her mouth. He made a mental note to help her blow off some steam later, but more pressing matters demanded his attention for now.

"Ogden spent the night reviewing our plans," Rhea said, stepping over to the work table. She picked up one of the annotated diagrams and held it up for Nick to see. "He made a few adjustments—nothing major from what we envisioned, but important all the same. They'll help prevent cascade failures if we miscalculate during the fusion process."

Nick studied the changes, his respect for the old alchemist deepening. It seemed that his generosity wasn't over yet then. "He didn't have to do that," he said quietly.

"No, he didn't," Rhea agreed. "But that's Ogden. He's not as heartless as he seems."

"Soft as moss under all that gruffness," Elia added, though her voice lacked its usual playful lilt.

Nick wanted to feel like he was doing something, anything to get more agency after last night, so he got started.

He set his satchel on the table and began laying out the materials he had painstakingly gathered. First came the wyvern bone, which he reverently placed in the center. Next, he took out the sky ash, already feeling a resonance between the ingredients. The hatchling core followed, still pulsing faintly with residual mana.

Rhea added her contributions to the table—several minor ingredients treated in overnight alchemical brews to enhance their compatibility and the ease of melding. As she meticulously arranged them, Nick felt a flicker of nervous energy course through him. He was gambling a lot on this wand coming out right. He was sure he could have extracted a decent upgrade to his skill via ritual, but he was too committed now.

There is also the fact that I'm not likely to find more child-killers ripe for the picking. If, as I suspect, the two human lives cemented the affinity's permanence, then using these ingredients that way would be a waste. Not to mention that with the temple delegation here, killing someone is too risky. Ogden seems to respect the Prelate's power, so he must be something.

"Everything's ready," Rhea said, keeping her hands steady by gripping the table. "Let's get started."

Nick nodded. He had no room for doubt now. With his nerves steeled and his mind focused, he stepped up to the table, ready to begin.