Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

"Something to help in meditation, you say? Hm, I know it's all the fad to look for your mana core and other crap like that in the capital, but how did you get involved in that shite here in the boonies?"

Nick chuckled awkwardly, not having expected that follow-up. He had defaulted to his usual excuse for non-magicals in his old life—spouting some new-age bullshit that was vague enough that no one would bother looking into it—but it seemed he had somehow stumbled into something real.

"Ah, I don't really know anything about cores. I just hoped I'd be able to feel my mana better so that when I start learning spells, I'll catch up to those who had a teacher since their class ceremony." He replied, making sure to scratch the back of his head and to sound as embarrassed as possible.

Ogden peered at him through his tiny glasses, trying to discern his truthfulness. "Well, don't fall for that useless drivel. Mana cores, mana channels, and anything like that are mere mental constructs that will hamper your growth. Putting unnecessary constraints on magic is the worst thing anyone can do. You'll end up crippled by level thirty if you do that. Fifty at best."

That was actually interesting. Nick knew that how one visualized their magic helped not only with a singular spell but also in directing their future growth. It was why his grandfather had forced him to do mental exercises for years before actually inducting him in the arcane. He hadn't thought about what damage it might do to follow a restrictive path like that in a world where everything seemed determined by the System, but things might be more complex than he initially thought. "I won't do that. In fact, I'm trying for the opposite. The more I can open up my mind, the better."

There, that should be enough. It's as clear as I can make it without outright saying I want to pull my consciousness out of my body.

The alchemist hummed, tapping a long finger on the counter next to Nick's chosen ingredients. "I suppose I have something for that. I imagine you don't just want a concentration aid, then. I sell a decent mindfulness potion, let me tell you."

"Ah, I might be interested in that later on, but for the moment, I just want to start working on my visualization. An ingredient that can make me more inclined to push out of my mental comfort zone would be ideal." Now, Nick was aware that the discussion had long left plausibility for a kid like him. Without any formal instruction save a few weeks at the temple and what basics his mother had taught him, he should absolutely not be capable of recognizing the ingredients he had chosen, much less doing anything with them.

However, Old Ogden didn't seem inclined to rat him out. Instead, he looked more fascinated than anything. That, Nick could work with.

Ogden clapped his hands suddenly, startling Nick. "Rhea!" he yelled in a sharp, commanding tone that was at odds with the soft voice he had kept so far. From somewhere in the back, a muffled groan echoed, followed by rapid footsteps.

A moment later, a girl shuffled into the room, wiping her hands on a stained apron. She looked to be in her late teens, maybe three or four years older than Nick. Her features were fine—delicate even—aside from her choppy, bright orange hair that stuck out in uneven angles as if she'd cut it herself in a hurry. Her face was set in a permanent scowl, and her eyes flashed with irritation.

"What now?" she grumbled, clearly annoyed. "I've got orders to finish, old man."

Ogden didn't seem bothered by her attitude. "Put them on hold for a minute; the caravan is not coming for at least another month, maybe two. I need that box from the back I told you not to touch. The black case. And be quick about it."

Rhea shot Nick a glance, her scowl deepening as if he were somehow responsible for her extra work. She muttered something under her breath but complied, disappearing into the back once more. Nick couldn't help but chuckle at her demeanor, though he quickly stifled it when Ogden turned his attention back to him.

"That's Rhea," Ogden said with a wave of his hand. "My apprentice, sent by the Guild. Bit of a handful, but she's talented when she puts her mind to it. Comes from a long line of alchemists, so she's got potential." He adjusted his glasses, peering at Nick again. "Don't mind her attitude. She's like that with everyone."

Nick nodded, filing the information away. What a girl from such a storied family was doing in the middle of nowhere would remain a mystery for the moment, but that at least gave credit to his theory that Ogden was much more than a simple frontier potion brewer. Nick didn't know anything about the Guild's internal politics, but his experience suggested that it was improbable for a scion of an important family to be shuttled away without an excellent reason.

After a short while, Rhea returned, holding a small lacquered box in both hands. She handed it to Ogden with a huff, though she didn't leave, eyeing the object with evident curiosity. "Here," she said, crossing her arms. "Anything else?"

Ogden gave her a dismissive wave, and she stepped back, far enough not to be a bother but close enough that she had a good view of the counter.

The old alchemist set the box down and placed a scaly finger on the latch. Nick watched as a faint flicker of mana danced along the edges of the box, barely noticeable but enough to catch his attention. The latch clicked open, and Ogden carefully lifted the lid, revealing a single vial nestled in soft velvet.

Nick's breath caught in his throat. Inside the vial was a shimmering, silvery liquid. He didn't know what it was, but the mana it emitted was unmistakably similar to the energy he had felt from the Sage Blossom in his old life. This was precisely what he needed.

So precisely that he felt a moment of trepidation. Why would a well-regarded alchemist show off such a rare ingredient to what, by all intents, should only look like a kid?

Nick spent a few seconds falling into paranoia while keeping his expression perfectly still as one of curiosity. Not only was the old man likely onto him about knowing much more than he should about magic, but Nick had also just realized that this was the first hint of mana he had felt coming from him.

With how honed his senses were and how careful he had been since the meeting with the dryad, he didn't believe he could have missed another mage in town. Not one that wasn't a true master, at least.

If Ogden noticed his freakout, he said nothing of it. Instead, he just smirked. "Ah, I see you understand its worth, even if you are unlikely to know what it is." He held the vial up to the light, the liquid inside swirling slowly. "This is Dream Spider venom." A soft gasp from the side pulled Nick's attention, and he saw the apprentice stare with wide eyes, but Ogden continued, unbothered by her reaction, "Rare stuff. It helps with clarity of mind, deepens meditation in small doses, and traps the victim in a never-ending nightmare in large ones. Monastic orders often use it to enhance their best acolytes' training in the more esoteric arts. Exactly what someone like you would want if you're trying to 'visualize' your magic, eh?"

The gig might be up, but Nick was a trained liar and would only admit to something if incontrovertible proof was presented. If needed, he'd continue faking until his grave. That was what it meant to be an Occultist. "That would surely help me if it doesn't kill me first. How have you gotten your hands on such a rare and dangerous ingredient on the frontier? And more importantly, why would you sell something like that to me?"

Turn the tables. Unsettle the other. Never, ever allow anyone to dictate the flow of a discussion. I had almost forgotten what it meant to be hiding an impossible secret.

Rhea leaned forward, evidently very interested in the same piece of information.

A sinister grin appeared on the old man's face, pulling his lips into an inhuman expression. For a brief moment, Nick was reminded of his insistence on having a kobold ancestry and seriously considered whether it was true.

"I have my ways. The Green Ocean is full of bounty to those who know where to look, and I have customers that don't always show themselves around town." That was a non-answer if there ever was one, but since he didn't press about Nick's secrets, he let it go.

"Now, why would I sell this to you? Well, ordinarily I wouldn't. You'd kill yourself with a wrong dosage, and then I'd have little Elena kicking down my door. But you aren't exactly ordinary, are you?" His yellow eyes flashed, catching the light, and his tongue poked out of his mouth for a brief instant. "More than that, you'd never be able to afford it. I don't care whether you did odd jobs or got some free money from your parents; this is the kind of ingredient even a Merchant would be hard-pressed to buy."

Rather than allowing himself to be intimidated, Nick squared his shoulders. "And I suppose since you are telling me this, there is a way I could convince you to part with some of it?"

Ogden's grin relaxed, becoming human again, "Yes, that's correct." Another noise, this time of disbelief, came from Rhea, but they both ignored her. "What do you think of a little equivalent exchange? I need something that's only available in a place I cannot get to. It's not particularly expensive or difficult to get, but it's out of my reach."

Nick grunted in assent, already done with this game. They both knew he'd do it as long as it wasn't suicidal.

"Wonderful. Then you won't mind getting some of the temple's hearth's ashes, right?"

I might have agreed a bit too soon. I have been put to cleaning the temple's library as punishment, so no one bats an eye at my presence, but I didn't think this through.

Holding a broom and taking his time sweeping the main chamber's floor, Nick eyed the hearth at the back of the room with trepidation. An acolyte stoked the flame, throwing in the occasional dry log and reciting a prayer.

Sashara was a fire goddess, meaning most of her sacred rituals involved burning something. In the class ceremony, flammable oil was smeared over every child's forehead, and since no head burst into flames, it was understood that the goddess had given her blessing.

Tending to an ever-burning hearth was another of her clergy's duties. It was usually left to an acolyte to do it since it was a simple, repetitive action that was difficult to screw up. Sashara's presence theoretically permeated the entire temple, which meant no flame would burn out.

Nick vaguely remembered something about the tending being a show of commitment to the goddess or some similar drivel, but he was currently too busy thinking about how to pull the acolyte away and how to grab some of the ash without being subjected to divine punishment.

I really should have listened more during those lessons. Yes, it's incredibly dull, but I might have bartered a bit more than a few drops of Dream Spider venom for what could end with me burning to cinder for the transgression.

That didn't mean Nick was giving up. He needed the venom and had a trump card. Something he hadn't seen a use for since that first ritual in the forest.

He started weaving his mana in a simple kinetic pattern and prepared to unleash chaos on the temple.

Let's see if Blasphemy is enough to protect me from a real goddess' wrath.

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