Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

The two circles of chalk and runic inscriptions glowed around Nick. One was designed to siphon power from the Moss Oni's massive core, while the other aimed to repel the influences of any spiritual or material forces that might attempt to reclaim or taint that power. It was a precarious act of magical juggling, but Nick had no intention to suffer the consequences of carelessness.

A breeze circled around his ankles as he tried to use his Affinity to keep control of the vast amounts of mana he was channeling. He inhaled, allowing the swirl of air to drift upward and brush against the runes.

He was essentially performing two separate spells simultaneously without a chant to guide or differentiate them. That meant he had to rely on mental constructs—like directing a left hand and a right hand to play two distinct melodies on the same piano. If he focused too much on one, the other would unravel.

A sensation of vertigo washed over him as the spells' energies began to rise. Two flows of mana—one from the core, which pulsed with a sickly green hue at the center of the circle, and the other from a series of smaller circles carved around the perimeter—filled him. He had to set everything aside as he tried to keep them separate. If even a little of the Oni's power leaked into the outer ritual, he had no idea what would happen, but he was willing to bet it wouldn't be good.

Each circle was dedicated to an abjuration, weaving together Old Norse runes to spell out refusal, exile, and denial. Where Othalan, the rune of inheritance and the lynchpin of the central ritual, ended, Kaunan, for the end, and Naudhiz, for unfulfilled desire, started. The circle then spiraled into Jera to harvest all mana and ended in Kaunan again.

Nick's head swam, and he instinctively bit down on his lower lip to keep himself grounded. The tang of blood filled his mouth, and the coppery taste snapped him back to reality.

It was only thanks to [Parsimonia] that Nick was able to maintain his hold over the two clashing powers. Sure, his mental stats being so high had given him the confidence to try in the first place, but he'd never even heard of someone casting two rituals simultaneously on Earth.

The only proof I have that it can work is what I read in Semreh's chronicles, and that was someone who'd become a god that was doing it.

Slowly, he began channeling a fraction of the green energy back toward the Oni's core. Blood red mushrooms and other reagents from earlier hunts ringed it, along with a few ash piles from the dead fae. Each sacrifice was carefully placed to power the absorption aspect.

Yet, the Oni's core resisted. For a moment, Nick felt a feedback spike as if it had sensed his intent and tried to lash out. The swirl of sickly green mana around it coalesced into a violent whorl, and Nick's arms trembled under the strain. He didn't let panic take him, focusing on the second circle. If the Oni's own spirit was still lingering, or if the dungeon tried to take advantage of this, the abjuration would drive it back.

He closed his eyes, forcing the two rituals to remain distinct. Then he heard a faint keening noise from the second circle, like metal scraping on metal. The abjuration was biting into something intangible. Possibly the dungeon itself or something like what had possessed his shikigami.

Unfortunately, Nick's attention was entirely consumed by keeping the two rituals apart from each other. He couldn't spare the time to think about what it might be, much less extend his senses to find out.

"I can't let them unify," he hissed under his breath. "Gotta… keep them separate."

But with nothing to guide the mana, he was effectively running the two separate rituals through his mind alone. Usually, he'd chant the words for each ritual, letting the incantation handle much of the shaping. Doing it mentally left no margin for error and put all the burden on him.

That was when an idea struck him. In the parable, Semreh had guided the ritual meant to heal the crops and the one that fed the village's protection by invoking the story of the farmer who had sheltered him the night before. It technically had no relation to either ritual, and it was more akin to a mnemonic exercise, but if something like that could help, Nick was willing to try.

A story that's neutral in meaning but powerful in emotions… I need something that relates to rejecting outside influence while still allowing what is within to transform me… Galileo's trial!

It had no direct magical significance, but it was a historical text about rejecting what one knew to be true in the face of dogma. It wasn't a perfect synergy for his plan to harness monstrous power while denying any forced oversight, but it was the best he could think of.

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It took Nick a moment to gather enough mental energy to recall how it went, but his INT was high enough these days to recite things he'd only read once with little trouble. He cleared his throat. Softly, under his breath, he began reciting:

"I, Galileo Galilei, being in my seventieth year, abjure, curse, and detest the said errors and heresies of Earth's motion.

And I swear I shall never again speak or write such matters, but will content myself to remain silent, for the Church's sake."

He felt a twinge of guilt for using the words of a brilliant mind forced to recant. But the text's tone—both a condemnation of his own truths and a reflection of oppression—fit the twin demands of his rituals too well. And I'm sure the old man wouldn't mind. He was an alchemist of some talent, after all. He knew what it took to reach greatness.

A wave of calm spread over him. The rituals found an anchor in his recitation. The Oni's core glowed brighter, its vile green aura responding to the cadence of the words, while the abjuration circle around him began to tighten and refine, rebuffing the outside force while absorbing all that the central ritual was emitting.

Nick repeated the lines as steadily as he could, weaving them into the mental architecture of the spells. The pressure started to lessen, and his role became easier.

Gradually, the Oni's core began to dissolve. Tiny motes of greenish mana peeled away from its surface, drifting across the circle to Nick's chest. He felt them settle into his bloodstream, thrumming with potential. The Oni's draining ability felt incredibly powerful, so Nick had to stay vigilant. Allowing that power to integrate with his body without limits could have terrible effects.

He redoubled his efforts on the abjuration circle, fueling it with the leftover scraps of monstrous reagents. The second circle was, in effect, forcibly pushing away any claim from the Oni's spirit or from the dungeon. If a remnant of the Oni tried to overshadow him, or if the dungeon tried to punish him for harnessing its champion's powers, they would be absorbed and used as fuel.

Another spike of pressure nearly made him lose control. The Oni's core emitted a final surge of desperate rage, as though the beast's will refused to die. Nick almost toppled over, bracing a hand on the damp earth.

His chant turned to the second half of Galileo's forced recantation, the part that often was left out in retellings.

"Henceforth, I promise to speak no further, and if I do, may my soul be forfeit.

But let it be known that in my heart, I keep truth, though I must not show it."

While it wasn't historically accurate to the letter, Nick had pieced together various translations and versions, feeling it was authentic enough. He was rewarded as he sensed the Oni's final surge sputter out, suppressed by the abjuration circle.

The core shattered, losing its shape entirely, becoming a fluid wave of energy that poured into him. Nick clenched his teeth as his veins throbbed with the infusion, but he channeled the power with a single-minded focus, letting it sink into his body's magical channels without letting it linger anywhere, lest he give it a shot at revenge.

The last swirl of sickly green drifted across Nick's chest and vanished into him with a faint sparkle. The central circle flickered and died, having completed its role.

At the same time, the abjuration circle's runes glowed white-hot. Nick forced the last bits of mana into them, culminating in a final push that drove away any lingering presence that might threaten him. The circle's glow peaked before collapsing in on itself, with mana evaporating into the aether in a rush of displaced air.

For a moment, Nick simply knelt there, panting. He tested his limbs, flexing his fingers. His body felt sore, and he was confident that it would stop hurting with some time to rest. Warmth pulsed in his core as the Oni's stolen ability settled within. Yet, no creeping malevolence tugged at his thoughts, and the presence was no longer attempting to attack him, seemingly having vanished with his magic. It appeared that the abjuration had fulfilled its purpose.

Activating [Wind God's Third Eye] let him sweep his surroundings, which confirmed that no one was close enough to have seen the ritual and that the presence was gone.

Now, let's see what the System has to say.

SYSTEM NOTIFICATION

You have completed the ritual of [Absorption]!

+ 6.333 Exp

Earned the Skill [Vitality Drain] (Intermediate)

+ 21.212 Exp

You have completed the ritual of [Abjuration]!

+ 10.000 Exp

No level up? Ugh. It's becoming so much harder.

Still, he had the skill he wanted—and it was a skill, not a spell. That was somewhat interesting, though he could delve into the difference between the two later on.

What was even more interesting was that [Vitality Drain] had started at the Intermediate tier. Nick felt somewhat reluctant to activate it just yet, but as he focused on the sensation in the back of his mind, he realized he had far more control over it than he had expected.

Considering it came from an Oni, he expected to have to work hard to use it safely. However, given how pliable it felt, he thought he might get it right the first time.

With a deep breath, Nick fed it a trickle of mana. Unlike a spell, which required specific knowledge and his constant control over the power flow, the skill worked almost independently. Sure, Nick could stop it immediately if he wanted to, and he did so just to test if he could. But when he reactivated it, he knew that even with minimal input, the skill already contained everything it needed to function.

The grass at his feet began to yellow, and as he slowly allowed [Vitality Drain] to increase in power, it dried and withered, until nothing but a dead patch was left at his feet.

Nick turned it off and paused to assess himself. He was still tired, but that was normal. However, compared to before the ritual, the change wasn't drastic. The headache he had felt building at the base of his neck had eased, and he felt as if he had managed to rest for a few minutes. Nothing groundbreaking, but it showed that the skill worked.

Activating it again, he tried to narrow its scope, directing it towards a bush twenty feet away. It took more effort, and the energy he got back felt lesser. I'm losing a lot of it on the way. So the further I am, the lesser it is. Makes sense.

However, before he could start draining the entire creek, Nick sensed a large presence enter his range. It wasn't a monster or a spirit, nor was it someone coming to spy on him, but he would have preferred a goblin to test his skill against.

What does Marthas want now?