Low-Fantasy Occultist

Chapter 385

If Nick had been alone, crossing a few miles of monster-infested land would have been fairly easy. He could have gone much higher than he was now, burdened by seven other people, and reached higher speeds.

Unfortunately, he was currently dragging along two fully armored adventurers, a noble, and four apprentices, all of whom had their own baggage.

Thanks to the Shard, expanding [True Flight] to include them all was not only possible but also strategically practical, as he still retained enough control over the spell to steer them away if they were attacked. However, that didn’t make the experience any less nerve-wracking.

Below them, the central valley had become a slaughterhouse.

Nick had already been through a monster tide once, and he knew exactly how chaotic it was. The first time, the experience was made easier because his father, as the commander, took most of the monsters’ attention, and Arthur's intervention eventually saved them from the wyvern.

Here, there was nobody like that to give the battlefield a semblance of order.

The group of adventurers and the occasional masked man were doing a decent job fighting off the horde, but it was clear that it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed.

Trolls charged through ranks of mercenaries only to be disintegrated by concentrated wand-fire. Goblins, usually cowardly, threw themselves onto Sunsteel blades to block enemy movement, driven mad by the screaming presence of the Feral God.

“We’ve been spotted!” Raphael warned.

A cluster of gargoyles, roused from their divebombing of a group of archers by the disturbance of a large group moving through the air, changed course and flew toward their formation with screeches.

“They are too fast, I can’t dodge them!” Nick shouted. Perhaps he could have interrupted the spell and recast it just before they all smashed into the army below, but while that was something he wouldn’t have hesitated to do on his own, he now had the lives of his comrades in his hands.

“I’ve got it!” Monte roared. He pushed off Malik’s tower shield, leaping upward into the path of the lead beast and thrusting his rapier forward.

Its sharp point lit up as multiple skills activated simultaneously, and before the monster could react, chunks of stone rained from the sky while the blade flashed.

Monte twisted in freefall, kicking off the dying monster’s carcass to propel himself back toward the group, where Willow caught him with a tendril of water and hauled him back into the formation.

“Nick, focus on getting us to the Temple!” Raphael commanded, sending a [Spatial Sever] to clip the wing of a second beast. “We’ll keep the path clear!”

Nick didn’t bother answering beyond a grunt, focusing on keeping their path as steady and direct as possible, even though he had to occasionally dip and weave around groups of vultures.

Through it all, his eyes stayed fixed on the target, the massive temple sitting at the center of the valley.

Made of dark obsidian with a violet sheen where volcanic glass had been thinned enough for sunlight to pass through, it was intimidating enough in the physical world. But when he activated [Empyrean Intuition], he realized it was so much more.

Not only was it at the heart of the Feral God’s domain, serving as a crucial pillar that kept the higher being connected to the World, but it also housed the dungeon’s core, making it the point where the leyline emerged closest to the surface.

If this had been the Nick who had ventured into the Green Ocean, he wouldn't have been able to untangle the energies from each other, but now he could see how they fed off one another, sustaining the oppressive gloom that limited his senses and made the subtler magics so complicated.

Around its base, a secondary ring of Hones soldiers prevented any breach from taking hold. These weren't the paid swords or desperate adventurers of the first line; these were the House elites, the masked men in black armor and Sunsteel inlays, moving with the synchronization of a hive mind.

Considering that they all have psychic implants of some kind, I’d say that’s a more accurate description than some might think.

It wasn’t long before their group was spotted by the humans, and not just the monsters.

"Shields!" Malik bellowed.

A volley of spells erupted from the Temple steps—fireballs, shards of ice, and bolts of concussive force, all wielded with the same ruthlessness against the horde.

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Nick thickened the air around them, hopefully dulling the worst of it, but if he wanted to keep their speed and control during the flight, he had to trust that the others could handle it.

Malik’s shield glowed with a golden light, expanding into a dome of solid energy that he had never displayed before. Willow then enhanced it with layers of rushing water a moment later.

The bombardment struck them hard, shaking Nick’s focus and rattling his teeth, but the formation stayed solid.

Instead of slowing down to assess the situation, Nick pushed the flight spell even more, transforming them into a streaking comet and covering the last few hundred feet.

“Brace for the impact!” he shouted, weakening the spell as they fell from the sky just enough to turn it into a cushioning effect.

Even with that, they didn't land smoothly. They crashed onto the obsidian steps of the Temple, rolling and skidding, but they were armed and on their feet before the enemy even realized what had happened.

Unfortunately, they weren’t the only professionals around, and the Hones elites were on them moments later.

"Kill them!" a masked captain yelled, his voice echoing strangely as it traveled through an artifact around his throat. "Secure the entrance!”

Twelve shadows broke away from the inner ring, advancing and firing psychic bolts.

"Raphael," Nick said, straightening up and raising the Shard. The exhaustion from the flight disappeared, replaced by the cold, hard rush of adrenaline.

"On it," the spatial mage replied and made a sweeping gesture.

The space where the lead soldier’s knee had been disappeared, and the man collapsed, screaming, only to be silenced as Nick thrust the Shard downward and released a [Lightning Bolt] directly into his face.

A second soldier lunged at Nick, ignoring his fallen comrade, wielding a Sunsteel saber and aiming for his neck.

Nick leaned into the strike, allowing [Wind Armor] to deflect the blow just enough to convert a potentially fatal decapitation into a glancing hit that grazed off his shoulder. In response, he placed his palm on the man’s chest plate.

“[Spirit Blast]”

The soldier twitched violently and went limp, his mind overwhelmed by the point-blank injection of spiritual force.

Behind them, Monte, Yvonne, and Malik held the flanks, keeping the lesser guards at bay while the apprentices whittled them down, but Nick and Raphael were like a scythe cutting through wheat.

Any outside observer would have noticed that they were a cut above everyone else, as they only needed simple spells to bring down their enemies and played off each other’s strengths, ensuring the other was never overwhelmed, even as more soldiers threw themselves at them.

Some of the adventurers holding the outer ring even got distracted by the fight, staring at the incredibly intense exchanges of spellfire and the constant deaths, only to be immediately punished by monsters.

Eventually, they arrived at the massive double doors of the Temple. They were sealed shut and covered in glowing runes of binding.

Nick only needed a moment to realize breaking through wouldn’t be as easy as he’d hoped. This wasn’t the work of an amateur, and though he sensed he might be able to batter them down with enough time, every minute they spent outside was a minute Vane had to pursue his nefarious goals.

Before he could even try to work on it, Lina pushed past him with a determined look. “Let me,” she said firmly.

At her gesture, clay flew from the ground, filling every groove in the door and slipping into every crack. She focused, ignoring the fierce battle around her, while Nick did his best to protect her, taking down another soldier as he lunged for her exposed back with a well-placed [Spirit Crunch] that also struck the man behind him, giving Monte an opportunity to thrust his rapier through his chest.

Lina muttered something, a guttural sound that caused the ground to shake, and the clay suddenly expanded, bursting out of every crack. The stone hinges could not withstand the force and shattered, while the doors groaned open, with the charms still attached but rendered useless.

“Get in!” Raphael roared, distorting space at the entrance to buy them time. As soon as Nick stepped in, he followed, collapsing the warped area and sending the men trapped inside flying back.

The last thing that Nick saw before the doors closed, sealing them inside, was the masked commander thrusting his weapon toward them, unleashing a powerful blast of psychic mana that would have definitely been enough to fry their brains.

Thump.

The doors didn’t budge, and Nick even felt the charm Vane had used re-engage. He couldn’t stop a slightly hysterical giggle from escaping his lips, but he quickly regained his composure.

The air inside the Temple was heavy, almost suffocating. The ambient mana was so concentrated it was visible as a violet haze, swirling in unusual currents that defied natural laws, and the presence of the Feral God loomed over them.

Even the warriors in the group could sense its impact. “I’ve never felt such an oppressive presence,” Yvonne grunted.

“It’s spitting mad,” Nick agreed. “Vane must be doing something it hates. We need to hurry.”

They hurried down the entrance hall, which was covered with bas-reliefs and carvings on every surface. Most of the images depicted a massive wolf, while others showed scenes of worship or hunts.

All of them possessed the spiritual echo of something that had been painstakingly crafted, and Nick realized with a sinking feeling that they hadn’t been shaped by magic or a chisel. Claws had whittled at the obsidian, gradually producing hundreds of works over the centuries.

He shook his head, briefly setting the eerie discovery aside, and concentrated on the powerful energies swirling all around them.

The Greater Ritual was disrupted, yes, and the Anchors were gone, but the energy hadn't disappeared. It was swirling here, pulled by some kind of funnel, a vacuum.

It’s not pooling naturally, Nick analyzed, watching the violet currents flow deeper into the dark. It’s deliberately being condensed. The Ritual was designed to take the sprawling power of a God and focus it into a single point, a vessel of sorts, and though the anchors have failed, the Inner Guardian hasn’t yet given up.

He could sense its shape in his mind now. It was a large, intricate lattice of constraints and channels. Flawed and ruined by their sabotage, but the intent still remained clear enough to give the mass of mana purpose.

Strangely enough, he felt some kind of kinship with it, and a moment of introspection revealed that its structure, although entirely foreign to any magic he could cast, was similar to the upper branches of the Tree of Life.

After all, Binah and Chokmah lead to the materialization of the divine will, Kether, and all of them were unified into the Last Step.

The Greater Ritual that the Inner Guardian was conducting followed different rules and traditions, but the resonance was undeniable.

They sprinted down the wide, dark corridor, with statues of lupine warriors lining the walls, their stone eyes seeming to track them. The pressure increased with every step, and a headache pounded at the base of Nick’s skull.

Minutes later, they reached the last corridor and skidded to a halt.

Before them lay a vast antechamber, leading to a final set of doors that couldn’t contain the immense psychic magic being wrought behind them—Vane’s work, no doubt.

But ten figures blocked the path. Eight were Hones elites, standing in a phalanx impassively.

The other two, on the other hand, wore no masks and were easily recognizable.