Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

Nick's first instinct was to rush ahead and join his father in this battle. He doubted he could defeat the Prestige creature on his own, but perhaps together they could succeed.

He possessed enough esoteric abilities to at least stump the monster, which should give Eugene the time he needed to launch a sufficiently powerful attack.

His mother had put a sudden stop to that line of thought. "Even if you were to go, you wouldn't be able to do anything. One of the King's Shadows is there to ensure no interference."

"What's that?" he'd asked, staring out the window and trying to calculate how quickly he could cross the distance. Darien didn't have the exact location, but Prestige monsters were not subtle. If Nick could find his father's trail, he'd probably be able to reach them within a few hours.

Elena placed her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to turn away. "Nicholas, listen to me. If it were possible to help your father, I would have gone with him. A royal decree is not the kind of thing you can work your way around."

Her use of his full name made him stop and pay attention to her. His mother wasn't prone to exaggeration or hysteria. Even when she had tried to keep him home, she had not overstated her point.

At that moment, a casual observer might have mistaken her for being calm, but Nick had the advantage of knowing her very well and being able to perceive her emotions.

Elena was a whirlwind of worry, pride, and anger, directed towards herself, a specific person, and the situation as a whole. The various shades of dark red and purple weren't exactly easy to distinguish, but the context allowed him to interpret them.

"I think I might be missing something," Nick finally admitted. "Why would the king send a man here to order Dad to hunt such a dangerous monster, and why can't we do anything about it? If he has that many resources, he should send them north to handle the damn dwarves!"

*SLAP*

Nick reeled. It didn't hurt, and it hadn't been fast enough for him to not see it coming, but the thought of his mother slapping him was so foreign that even as he sensed her hand pull back, he didn't do anything to avoid it.

"Do not speak like that," she whispered, but it was still loud enough for him to flinch back.

"You are lucky, kid. My mother would have sent me to the army for saying something so stupid," Darien finally spoke, sounding grave.

Nick blinked, trying to understand. "Are we being listened to?"

Elena gave him a look that combined pity and anger, exhaling softly as she met his eyes. "You never, never speak of the king like that. No matter where you are, no matter the circumstances. Do you understand me?"

Opening his mouth to argue back, Nick hesitated. There were enough context clues for him to understand that this wasn't merely about being polite. Scanning his surroundings revealed no hidden presences, and he doubted anyone could completely escape him now that he had [Empyrean Intuition], as it worked on an entirely different layer of reality.

Still, his mother wouldn't slap him without good reason. Her face was twisted in a grimace, and it was clear she hadn't enjoyed doing it. Nick closed his eyes, breathing in and out, using the Stalking Gait to calm himself.

Now was not the time to react instinctively.

"Help me understand, please," he said, once he was sure that no anger would taint his voice. Lashing out would only make things worse.

Elena clenched her hands and stared at him before nodding. She glanced at Darien, as if weighing whether to send him away, but ultimately decided against it.

"Very well. This is my fault anyway; I've been remiss in your instruction. Too much focus on personal power, and too little on teaching you common sense." She said, sounding defeated. She sat down in a chair, gesturing for him to follow her, and after a moment of hesitation, he did.

"I doubt the Shadow's listening at this point. It would have already intervened," Darien muttered, and she nodded.

"Yes, you are right. They are not known to take such slander with silence." She then looked at Nick, pressing her lips together. "The King's Shadows are a corps of the most powerful royal agents, trained from birth to follow his majesty's will. They are his eyes and hands, and each and every one only acts when commanded by him. They do not interfere with normal politics, remaining out of the public eye and keeping their identities secret throughout their lives. All are at least Prestige warriors, strong enough to handle any issue that might arise in the pursuit of the king's will."

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Elena looked dead serious as she spoke, and Nick began to understand why she was so concerned about his words. For someone whose life was dedicated to one man, hearing him disparaged—even if so blandly—likely wouldn't have gone over well.

I am not on Earth. This is not a democracy, and its institutions do not reflect the public's desires or beliefs. There is no court of law to challenge royal overreach.

"Every time a noble of the realm crosses the boundary between mortals and Prestige, they receive a visit from the King's Shadows. That is the only instance one can expect them to appear, and we've been preparing for their arrival. They come to both anoint the noble anew, granting them privileges and duties befitting their new standing according to royal law, and to remind them that even their new power isn't enough to challenge the king." She continued, and Nick began to get the impression that these Shadows were a strange mix of secret service and special ops, though with the added benefit of being monstrously powerful.

"I have never heard of them appearing before the boundary is crossed," Darien grunted. "A lot of people stagnate there, never taking the last steps. Some can't, some won't, but the Shadows don't bother showing up until that person reaches Prestige."

"Is it possible that Dad already has?" Nick asked. If it were genuinely impossible for them to show up so early, then the other variable must have been different.

Elena shook her head with a small smile. "No, Eugene would have told me."

"And ranking up isn't exactly a subtle thing," Darien added. "Everybody would know if he'd done it within Floria, and he never left long enough to do it in secret."

"Alright, so these Shadows are very strong; they follow the king's will and are here before they were supposed to—apparently with a mission that Dad has to complete." Nick pieced it all together, rubbing his reddened cheek slightly. The slap hadn't caused any real damage, but Elena was still a warrior Class, whose physical attributes far surpassed his.

She stared at the motion, a faint regret swirling within her, but she didn't apologize. Considering how dire the consequences could have been if this Shadow had been listening, he didn't hold too much contempt for her actions.

"This means that the king is the one who sent the mission, right? How could he have known about Dad?" He finally asked. Yes, Eugene was known to be relatively close, especially after the dungeon raid, but according to Darien, that alone shouldn't have warranted such a visit.

"That's the question, isn't it?" The soldier grunted, and Elena let out a sigh.

"We'll have to wait for your father's return, Nick. And hope he comes back in one piece."

A strange mood settled over the Crowley household. With little either of them could do, Nick and Elena returned home, where Talbot's excited meows greeted them.

Nick had spent some time pampering the spiritual cat with scratches behind the ears, only to pull back when he felt alien impressions flow through him.

Satisfaction from a job well done guarding the house, happiness at his return, and frustration over a particular rodent that had burrowed deep enough to evade his claws. For a moment, they almost felt like his before he blinked and realized they were coming from Talbot, allowing him to distance himself.

"Well, isn't that interesting?" he murmured, reaching down to pet the confused cat.

This time, the emotions were more muted, allowing him to easily discern both their nature and origin. It wasn't exactly mind-reading, but it was the closest he'd come to it so far.

It must be because he's a spirit, right? I had a similar experience with the dagger, but it was only for a moment back then. With Talbot, it's much clearer.

Without the prison of the flesh, Nick was essentially touching raw spiritual mana, condensed and expressed to imitate a real body. It made sense that he could sense emotions much more clearly.

Still, even that was just enough to distract him for a few hours before he went back to brooding about his father's situation.

I don't like this. If the Shadows know so much, couldn't they have waited for him to cross the boundary before sending him off to fight a Prestige monster? Or is it exactly because he hasn't that they acted now?

The implication was that the king wanted his father dead. Although Nick wasn't exactly in the mood to respect royal authority, he didn't believe that the most powerful man in Berea had a reason to desire the death of a minor frontier noble.

The dungeon seemed to be the only reasonable explanation for such an absurd line of thought.

Is this punishment for keeping the dungeon a secret? I suppose the king might have wanted to exploit it for his own purposes and could be sufficiently enraged about it to take action.

Still, that didn't feel right. Sure, a monarchy could allow a crazy person to reach the highest position, as it had often done in Earth's past, but given the many other problems the kingdom was facing, he doubted that even a petty king would have the time to waste on such an issue.

Pacing around his room, Nick couldn't bring himself to settle down. He was tired from the road, yes, and cranky from the sudden turn of events. More importantly, he didn't like being told he couldn't do anything to help.

I was the one who helped Dad get his act together. Without me, he would probably still be practicing his fire skills, stuck at the same level without a clear path to Prestige.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. A quick check revealed that his mother wasn't in a much better mood, but at least she was keeping herself busy with weapon maintenance.

Enveloping himself in a bubble of wind and then lifting himself with a precise application of [Telekinetic Field], Nick carefully flew out the window.

A confused meow behind him made him turn, and he put his pointer finger over his lips, miming to Talbot to stay quiet.

The cat gave him a long look before flicking his tail and turning away.

I might have to bring him a gift for this.

With that, Nick was off. He rose into the sky, high enough to avoid being spotted by the farmers working their fields, and quickly made his way northwest, where Darien's focus had been on the map.

From there, he hoped to find a trail. His father was certainly strong enough to leave a trace in the ether, and according to what his mother had said, he couldn't have been gone for more than a day. Unless this Prestige monster is particularly stealthy, I should be able to sense it long before I catch sight of it.

As he flew over Floria, something drew his attention. Although it was challenging to stay alert while flying due to the intensity of the activity, the presence obstructing his path was undeniable.

Marthas had seen him coming.

He stood at the temple entrance, arms folded, gazing intently at the spot where he hovered.