Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

Typically, Nick would kill the thunderhoofs and use their bodies and residual mana to power his ritual. That was the standard method he learned, and it would definitely yield reliable results.

However, considering that he was attempting to summon a spirit strong enough to influence how he utilized his emotion-based magic, he needed to do something more.

Fortunately, the thunderhoofs were not the only thing he could utilize.

Despite the clear sky, thunder boomed, startling the herd. They lowed in confusion, likely sensing that something was amiss.

Their natural connection to electricity would be enough to realize there wasn't nearly enough static in the air for a storm to form. Yet, their eyes told them a different story.

The air pressure changed suddenly as powerful winds began to howl high above, churning and swirling.

That confusion, that sense of wrongness, was what Nick aimed to summon.

The alpha thunderhoof rumbled a warning, and its brethren hurried behind him, retreating from the lake.

Suddenly, the earth collapsed beneath it, causing the alpha to stumble away while angrily releasing sparks to warn off enemies it couldn't see.

From high above, the localized storm continued to build, yet no lightning flashed, which added to the strangeness.

Thunderhoofs weren't at the top of the food chain of the grassland, but when acting together, they could scare off most predators. An alpha defending its herd could be a mighty foe to anyone foolish enough to attack them directly.

And yet, they were limited. Their strong bodies provided an edge in close combat, and the lightning that even now sparked between their horns was sufficient to handle nearly anything at range.

The one thing they couldn't do was locate an enemy that was hiding.

It was why so many creatures of the grassland lived underground. This allowed them to move undetected, avoiding the herds that would otherwise eliminate them with prejudice.

The thunderhoofs recognized this and, thus, unable to find an enemy, shifted their attention downward.

Powerful bursts of electricity erupted from their horns, striking the packed earth, scorching the blades of grass and creating gouges, hoping to uncover something, anything.

Nick watched as the herd became frenzied, great gusts of wind falling upon them, drawing their attention to the sky while chunks of earth uprooted from the soil and slammed into the unprotected calves.

It was a display of elemental might that no other creature of the grassland could match. Other human mages might have been able to replicate it, but who would bother to set up all these disparate conditions just to handle a small herd when it would be so much more efficient to use offensive spells?

And that is why most mages are limited in their options, despite wielding the most versatile energy in the cosmos. Mana allows for miracles in every field, and yet people choose to stick to one and never attempt to expand their horizons.

The lake's water rippled, as if disturbed by something swimming close to the surface.

Distracted by the strange weather phenomena, the thunderhoofs didn't notice until it was far too late.

Nick kept herding them back to the water, making minor adjustments to his artificial environment. He even went so far as to dust off the [Epworth Curse], the old poltergeist spell he'd used to distract the temple acolytes.

Unnatural banging reverberated across the grassland, startling the thunderhoofs and causing them to release even more electricity.

The water churned.

Rocks began to levitate off the ground and were quickly sniped by the alpha, more than happy to unleash its anger at a visible target.

It was a distraction, of course, but the creatures were far too frazzled to notice.

Finally, something breached the surface of the lake.

A long, sinuous shape, covered in kelp and reeds, shot out of the water, opening its maw to reveal long rows of needle-like teeth.

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The nearest calf was swallowed whole before it even had a chance to notice, snapped up from the ground in an instant.

The alpha quickly realized something was wrong, to its credit. It turned around, its horns blazing with stored power, and as soon as it laid eyes on the massive water serpent that had eaten its kin, it unleashed a powerful blast.

Nick watched everything unfold with a focused expression. He felt tempted to intervene to preserve the valuable ingredients for empowering rituals, but he didn't. After all, this was just the prelude.

A ritual circle had been carved around the lake amidst the chaos. One that was large enough to encompass the entire battle raging on the shore within it, and yet, Nick didn't push any intent through it, content to watch as power continued to build and emotions heightened.

What he was doing was something he had been warned not to do—something that every occultist worth their salt knew could spiral into extreme danger.

And yet, he allowed it to continue growing. An unfocused ritual circle, within which a life-and-death battle unfolded, served as the perfect bait.

The massive serpent had by now killed another calf, but it wasn't winning. In fact, the bleeding welts covering its slippery scales told a very different story.

Although its speed and power had allowed it to inflict severe losses on the herd, and the reeds that covered it helped protect it from much of the elemental fury unleashed by the alpha, it was slowing down, and the longer it stayed out of the water, the more it would suffer for it.

Since it had already eaten its fill, Nick could see the moment it decided to cut its losses.

The alpha noticed it as well and bellowed in anger, releasing an even larger bolt of lightning that, instead of trying to pierce the reed barrier, spread entirely across its surface, trapping the snake in a cage of electricity.

It was a more sophisticated use than Nick had expected from the alpha. It certainly served to slow the snake even further, as its thrashing only hurt it more, but ultimately, it was all for naught.

The power and emotions stored within the sacrificial circle were simply too great a temptation. Nick hadn't even taken any steps to prevent it from leaking into the astral sea.

Finally, something came to investigate it.

Perhaps Nick should have expected the form that broke through the layers, using his ritual as a jumping-off point to materialize, even if only for a few moments.

Such was the primal terror of death being tossed about, the despair at a powerful enemy harming one's kin, that nothing but a Phobos, a spirit of fear, could emerge.

It was a spindly thing, with long, dark claws, thin limbs, and a featureless face, split in two by a gaping darkness that served as its mouth. It struck a primitive part of the brain, triggering an instinct that urged him to get as far away from that thing as possible.

In the end, it didn't really matter; he had his target.

From that point on, everything happened very quickly. Nick had only a few seconds before the powerful spirit either ate its fill and departed or realized the trap.

Both options would be less than ideal, especially since he needed to study the damn thing to understand how to better use his new magic.

The mortal creatures hardly had time to realize that something was very, very wrong before they began to scream.

Having hunted thunderhoofs for a while now, Nick was quite familiar with the sounds they made. Lowing, mooing, bellowing, snorting, and even a low rumble that felt like thunder were all sounds he recognized.

The screams that tore from their throats as the Phobos descended upon them were not something he had ever thought possible.

They were almost human, a sound of fear so pure and untainted that it made his skin crawl. He didn't step back only because he had steeled himself, but even after that, he was surprised by the intensity.

The snake, on the other hand, thrashed wildly. Still trapped in the lightning net, it cared nothing for the welts it was inflicting upon itself. Its massive, sinuous body coiled and uncoiled, slamming against the cage in a desperate attempt to reach the water.

It was far too late. The Phobos had reached them, and as soon as its claws touched them, any hope of escaping vanished. They dropped, overwhelmed by the intensity of the primal horror they were experiencing, becoming helpless prey.

Its face split open, revealing a gaping void where a mouth should have been, and it inhaled.

Thin streams of silver began to pour from the captive creatures as it fed off their emotions.

And this was when Nick intervened. It was already far too late to save the monsters, but he didn't really care. No, what he wanted was the Phobos' ability to affect their spirits so utterly, to consume them so profoundly.

The ritual's stored power reacted immediately to his command. It began to spin, churning upon itself, feeding on his pure disgust and his hatred for this unnatural thing that dared to show itself in the material world.

The [Spiritual Hurricane] that formed was an order of magnitude larger and more powerful than the one he'd unleashed upon the rock worm.

It benefited from several minutes of preparation, his conscious use of spiritual magic, and being specifically tailored for this creature.

Not a shred of fear went into its creation. Nick had become quite skilled at isolating his emotions and knew better than to leave such a lifeline to the Phobos.

The spirit quickly realized it was under attack, as it was extremely sensitive to emotional buildups, but its very nature worked against it.

As a creature of pure fear, it could do nothing when confronted with an intense concentration of emotions that was beyond its domain.

In essence, Nick was its direct counter. Any other being would have been influenced by its presence, tainting their magic with fear and rendering it ineffective against it, but he could manipulate his emotional state well enough to avoid that pitfall.

And so, when the Phobos extended its claws, burning with pure terror made manifest, and tried to tear the magic apart, it was immediately overwhelmed, as that which it was never meant to experience flooded into it.

Nick was almost content to let it die like that. He had already learned a great deal from its mere presence, but the opportunity was too significant to pass up, so he twisted the ritual's essence, finally giving it a purpose beyond the accumulation of power.

[Vitality Drain] raced through it, using the medium of the howling spiritual storm that was tearing the Phobos apart to grasp whatever bits were most resilient, dragging them down into the carved lines of power, where Nick began to parse through them.

What he saw made him hum in surprise.

At its core, the Phobos was a spirit made to seek more of itself. That was why, instead of having a fear-inducing aura or some other horror-based ability, its most developed skill was a homing one.

It sought, wandering through the eddies of the ether. Like a hunting dog, it followed where the scent of fear was thickest.

The spirit's corrupting presence contaminated everything else Nick could grab, but that single skill remained pure.

And although it wasn't precisely what he'd been looking for, Nick didn't mind at all.

It took just a moment to direct [Vitality Drain] to pull it out of the overwhelming emotions caused by the slowly dissipating [Spiritual Hurricane]. With a force of will that far surpassed what he'd once been capable of, Nick inserted it into himself.

As expected, the new sensory skill immediately connected with his current one. [Wind God's Third Eye] was a powerful spell, and its structure was based on a strong affinity, so it should have remained solid, serving as the foundation for a greater spell just as it had when he'd received his spiritual affinity.

What happened, however, was not that.

Nick felt the fabric of his most useful spell fray as it came into contact with the Phobos', and he knew he had to act quickly lest he lose both.