Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

Nick walked behind his father down the corridor. The town hall was old but grand, with high ceilings and intricate carvings, showcasing the Crowley family's successful stewardship of Floria. Nowadays, it rarely saw any significant use—only for festivals or official gatherings—yet here they were.

Dozens of voices overlapped in anxious debate and half-laughter, all laced with tension. His father paused at the threshold, taking in the scene with a glance. Only after he had spotted what he needed did he nod for Nick to follow. Together, they moved forward, and the hall began to quiet down.

A diverse crowd welcomed them: Floria's highest-ranking soldiers stood in clusters, wearing partial armor or formal uniforms. Adventurers, both men and women of various races, gathered around an older man with a commanding presence—Arthur. Priests milled about as well, although Nick didn't see Vicar Alexander among them. Instead, Prelate Marthas led the robed group. Nick also spotted Ogden leaning against a wall at the far end of the room.

The stares turned to them, and a sudden hush spread as everyone realized the Captain had arrived.

A soldier offered Eugene a stiff salute. "Captain Crowley, everyone's here, sir," he said.

Eugene nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Yon." His voice quieted the last whispers of conversation. "Let's get started then."

Nick slipped away from his father's side, drifting toward the edge of the gathering. Familiar faces nodded greetings at him, but he was content to linger near the periphery; this meeting had little space for a teen, no matter how much progress he'd made. He caught sight of Rhea by a table piled with maps, so he moved to stand beside her.

She nodded silently, an orange lock escaping her messy bun. Nick mouthed a hello, and she smiled back, though tension was evident in the set of her jaw.

Eugene placed both hands on the oak surface, looking around at the assembled crowd. With a final nod to indicate readiness, he took his seat. Everyone else followed suit: priests, soldiers, adventurers, and a few of the more important civilians perched on benches or chairs.

Clearing his throat, Eugene addressed them. "Thank you for coming. As some of you know, we've convened to hear Arthur's report from his scouting of the deep forest. Based on his findings, we'll plan our next steps against whatever threat emerges. I trust everyone here understands the gravity of the situation."

Arthur stood. "I'll be brief. I ventured beyond our usual patrol lines and immediately saw signs of a build-up. Monsters were more numerous, and they grew stronger the further I went. Nothing we can't handle if they stay scattered, but it's a clear sign that the dungeon is gaining power."

He paused, letting the realization sink in. Usually, a glut of monsters was a good thing, as it meant people's purses would fatten, but given their precarious situation, they had a different perspective. More monsters meant more casualties when they eventually attacked.

Eugene gestured for quiet, letting Arthur continue.

"That alone wouldn't necessarily threaten the town. We've already fought off a wave, along with smaller skirmishes. But a crucial difference is the presence of higher-tier beasts. I've seen wyverns roosting much closer than they used to. I even found tracks from a Moss Oni." That elicited soft gasps. Even the more hardened faces appeared alarmed. "Yes, a Moss Oni. If it's wandering these parts, that's effectively a 'Town Killer' on the loose."

Marthas folded his hands and leaned back with a glint in his eyes. A hush spread once more as everyone waited to hear the end of the report.

Arthur sighed, caressing his beard as he frowned. "Finally—and I suspect this is the real crisis—I was able to confirm that a Summer Court has settled within the dungeon's territory."

The room erupted with whispers, and tension turned to dismay. Not everyone understood what that meant, but context allowed most to infer it wasn't good.

We expected it, but that doesn't mean it's good news. Technically, it could have just been a few rogue fae toying with mortals. But if Arthur says it's a Court, then it's a Court.

"Enough. Let the man finish." Eugene roared.

Arthur nodded in thanks. "This Court might be led by a high fae or even a Faerie Lord. I can't say how large or how deeply entrenched it is. But I know the illusions I saw ran deeper than any single noble could command. My guess is they found and have taken control of the dungeon's core. If so,"—he shrugged—"they'll keep expanding rapidly."

Eugene's jaw tightened. "That's… dire news indeed." His gaze swept the assembly. "I won't mince words. If it is the Summer Court we know of which has taken residence in the dungeon, Floria's next wave of invaders could be unstoppable. The time for a preemptive strike might be upon us." Read exclusive chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

The adventurers around Arthur exchanged grim looks. One of them, a hulking swordsman, cleared his throat. "Should we call for an expedition, Captain? We can't fight a Court in open territory, but maybe we can weaken them enough to make them rethink an attack."

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Marthas tapped a finger on the tabletop, prompting everyone to turn to him. "We need a thorough plan. My priests can keep mirages at bay, but a Court has many tricks beyond mere illusions. The monsters alone will pose a problem. The wise approach is to infiltrate and sabotage. We must destroy the dungeon's core."

Before anyone could respond, Ogden, leaning on his cane with a reptilian half-smile, added quietly, "My apprentice and I will supply a new batch of potions if you give us a day."

So it's official: we will assault a dungeon rife with new monsters, illusions, and who knows what else.

Eugene nodded grimly. "Yes, that's precisely why we've gathered. If we move quickly, we can possibly stop them before they mount a force big enough to sweep us. Arthur, you've scouted the area. Will you lead again?"

Arthur gave a nod. "Yes, I'll lead the core group." His eyes sparked with electricity as they fell on the array of uneasy faces, from soldiers to mages. "We'll need numbers, specialized spellcasters, healers from the temple, potions, and much more. Repeating the success we've had in scouting so far is crucial."

Nick caught the subtle emphasis, and from the corner of his eye, he noticed Rhea shift toward him, pursing her lips in worry. He also felt his father's gaze briefly pass over him with the same expectation.

Marthas finally stood, walking to Eugene's side until he towered over him. It was a perfectly innocent gesture of support, yet the way he loomed made it clear he wasn't just suggesting something. "Time is of the essence, Captain. Let us finalize the details with haste. The longer we wait, the more time the Court has to weave illusions, enthrall local beasts, or even gather new allies from outside."

Eugene nodded, though his raised eyebrow revealed he had noticed the power play and was wondering where it might lead. "Very well. We'll figure out our squad rosters. Everyone, remain calm—this mission is our best defense. Get ready for at least a week of deployment."

Marthas smiled, pleased. "Then I would like the honor of leading another squad. I believe I can layer enough protections over the temple to transform it into a safe retreat should the fae try to attack Floria while we aren't here—that will give me the chance to ensure the Enemies are properly purged."

His menacing smile made it clear that he was looking forward to doing just that.

Nick stepped out of the meeting hall as the crowd began to disperse, with each member hurrying off to gather equipment or call in favors before the expedition to the Green Ocean set out tomorrow. He noticed that, despite the heated tone inside, most people wore determined expressions rather than defeated frowns.

His father lingered near the doors, discussing something with Darien. Nick was halfway down the steps, thinking about what he needed for the coming trek when Eugene's voice rang out.

"Nick!"

He turned just in time to see a small pouch arc through the air. Snatching it with a flex of telekinesis, Nick blinked. The jingle of coins inside made it clear what it was. "Uh, thanks, Dad!" he called, raising it in salute.

"Try not to spend it all on one trinket!" Eugene said with a smile.

Nick felt warmth flutter in his chest as he dashed away. His father was showing him trust again—if not total acceptance, at least a willingness to put real faith in Nick's decisions.

He held the pouch as he trotted down the main road. After the fiasco with the demon infiltration at the temple, travelers had started to drift away from the streets closest to the wall, but the real shock came when Nick rounded the last bend leading to the marketplace.

He halted abruptly. The usually busy area, filled with colorful tents and lively chatter, had changed. Crates slid onto carts, cloth canopies were folded away, and merchants bundled their wares. The caravan was preparing to leave.

Nick scanned the rows of stalls, searching for vendors selling potions and magical trinkets. He particularly needed some reagents for potential rituals and possibly a new dagger that could come in handy in tight spots. However, the urgency around him—men rolling up rugs, women securing boxes onto wagons—made it obvious that time was running out.

One merchant recognized him and gave a solemn nod. At his stall, a patchwork of protective amulets hung from hooks. Nick approached, remembering that this was where he'd once snagged a little trinket. "What's going on?" Nick asked, glancing around at the half-dismantled tent.

The man appeared subdued. "The caravan leadership decided we're pulling out tomorrow morning. It's too risky to stay." He waved his hand toward the nearby loaded wagons. "We initially thought the demon scare would blow over, but the last attack proved otherwise. And now, there's talk of another stampede… no thanks." He scowled, as if angry with the world for forcing him to leave.

Nick let out a low whistle. "That soon, huh?"

"By sunrise, we're gone," the merchant confirmed. "Which means if you need anything, buy now or never."

Nick nodded in thanks. Then, mindful of the crowd milling behind him, he leaned in to check the merchant's wares. But though he tried, he found mostly mundane items left: cheap charms or half-baked protection trinkets. The real valuable stock, he realized, had likely already been boxed up.

Still, Nick managed to purchase a few useful items—powdered eggshell for enhancing spells, a few pouches of stoneroot, and a jar of stasis salts that could preserve monstrous remains. Despite the man's annoyance, these final items would be invaluable once Nick got into the depths of the dungeon. He counted out coins, wincing at how quickly the sum disappeared. Yet the tinkle of leftover silver in his father's pouch reassured him that he was still in the green.

"Good luck, kid," the merchant said with earnest worry. "I hope you make it." With that, he busied himself with lowering a crate onto his wagon.

Nick thanked him, stepping aside to let others pass. He scanned the stalls for the battered old tent that once housed that eccentric old woman who had gifted him Semreh's grimoire.

Soon enough, he found her pitch… empty. The spot where her crates had been stacked was bare, as if no one had stood there at all. Only a few scattered footprints marked the dirt. Nick frowned. It was hard to believe she'd leave so quickly—just another sign of how spooked everyone was.

He lingered, turning to ask a couple of bored men tightening their wagon's harness. "Excuse me, do you know what happened to the old lady who sold books? Small stand, wrinkly, and a really big attitude?"

The men exchanged puzzled glances. One gave Nick a shrug. "Books? I… never saw a stand like that, lad. We've no librarian with us, let alone some old crone. Maybe you're mixing her up with the potion-seller? She's not old, but she is cranky."

Nick opened his mouth, then closed it. "No, definitely a bookseller. She was—" He stopped, reading the baffled expression on their faces. "Never mind. Thanks anyway." Could they be lying, or did the woman's entire presence vanish like she had never been there?

He was about to move on when a shout caught his attention. "Nick!" Familiar footsteps pounded the earth, and he turned to see Rhea jogging over, breathing hard. Her orange hair was partially loose from its braids, and she looked frazzled, as though she'd run the entire length of the market in a single sprint.

"Rhea?"

She wiped sweat from her forehead. "Finally found you. Ogden wants to see you."

Nick blinked, scanning her expression for any sign of trouble. "Aren't you guys busy with the potions?" He gestured at the disarrayed marketplace.

She nodded, sucking in oxygen. "We are, but he asked me to drag you over as soon as I saw you. Something about the expedition, I assume." She recovered enough to give him a sharp look. "You're going, then?"

Nick hesitated. "Seems so. Dad wants me to help with scouting, especially since illusions are a concern." His gaze flicked to the busy thoroughfare, where merchants hustled with carts. "It's all happening so fast."

Rhea sighed, nodding. "It always does in hard times. Let's go. Ogden hates waiting."