Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

Nick wiped the sweat from his brow once the creature dispersed, leaning back from the dusty shelf he had been painstakingly cleaning. With its towering shelves and forgotten nooks, the ancient temple library was not precisely the punishment he'd dreaded, but it was still exhausting. Elia was right—it could have been much worse. The vicar hadn't been as angry as Nick had expected after they'd barely escaped the dryad's territory, but that didn't mean he'd let them off easy either. Cleaning the temple library, which had clearly been neglected for years, was no small task.

"I'd prefer a few hours in the fields over this," Nick muttered under his breath, sweeping up the remains of yet another dust bunny. "At least then, the work would be straightforward. Here, we're battling an entire army of these things without ever knowing when another one will turn up."

Elia chuckled as she chased the sprite she'd disturbed. It had taken on an almost playful demeanor, darting around her legs as she tried to catch it. "Come on, Nick. You have to admit, there's some charm in exploring an old library. It's like we're treasure hunters… except instead of gold, we're digging through a mountain of dust." She sweat-dropped, realizing halfway through that it wasn't as exciting as she was trying to make it.

"Treasure hunters?" Nick raised an eyebrow, glancing at the row of decaying manuscripts. "If by treasure, you mean long-forgotten theology and a few local diaries that even the priests can't be bothered to read, then sure."

Elia grinned. "Exactly! Who knows what kind of ancient wisdom might be buried in these pages? Maybe we'll find something that could help us in the future. Oh, the inheritance of an ancient mage! Or maybe the lost formula of Panacea!"

Nick had already thought of that, of course. Well, not as enthusiastically, but still, he had been curious at first. Under normal circumstances, the idea of rifling through a library, potentially discovering magical texts or hidden knowledge, would have thrilled him. In his old world, he'd have jumped at the opportunity. But the vicar had been very clear when they were assigned this task—anything truly valuable, like magical tomes, wouldn't be found here. Those were far too expensive for a small provincial temple to afford. If Nick wanted to read anything of real importance, he'd have to wait until his apprenticeship or hope for the unlikely event that a wandering adventurer would sell one to the local shops—which hadn't happened in the past few years and was unlikely to happen now. Neither option seemed promising.

Still, old habits died hard. He itched to explore deeper, to check every forgotten book and scroll for something special. That, however, would mean spending even longer inhaling dust instead of exploring his new status and what earning levels did to his abilities, which he was dying to do.

"The vicar said we're the first to do this in years. Even the priests don't come down here often. Too busy with practicing healing spells." Not that he was jealous. No siree. He hadn't tried to sneak in a training session for the younger priests and been caught, not at all. And it certainly hadn't ended with his mother tanning his butt. He was practically an adult. He certainly would never be spanked.

Elia batted at the persistent dust bunny with her claws, weaving between the benches as she tried to corner it. "Maybe that's why we're stuck doing this. No one else wants to deal with the mess, so we get the honor."

Nick rolled his eyes. "No, I'm pretty sure it has to do with the fact that you told the vicar everything we did, and he got mad at us for leaving the fields, fighting a monster, practicing magic, getting hurt, and talking with a dryad." That finally seemed to shut up the energetic foxgirl, so he returned his attention to the tome before him. It was an old, weathered book with a faded title he couldn't quite make out. He flipped it open, carefully checking the pages to ensure they were intact. Something caught his eye as he did—a faint, glowing script at the top of one of the pages. His breath hitched. This was no ordinary book.

He immediately shut it close. A lifetime as an occultist had been enough to learn that anything containing enough magic to glow also held enough to make trouble, and so, after a quick look at Elia to ensure she was still playing around—and wasn't likely to return to her position unless he specifically called her—Nick proceeded to employ his old routine to check new books. He was a bibliophile, after all.

First, he drew a quick pentagram within a circle in the dust with his finger. The table was dirty enough that its lines were clear. Secondly, Nick plucked a few strands of hair from his scalp, wincing at the sharp sting. He placed them at the center of the pentagram, using the twinge of pain to prepare the ritual.

With its roots in the Hellenistic world, Alexandrine's magic had always been deeply connected to the effort of conquest and the drive of knowledge. Pain, sacrifice, and focus—it demanded a personal toll, but in exchange, it provided a precise and careful way to navigate the arcane.

It was the kind of spell that wasn't often seen in the modern world. Too finicky, too reliant on the caster's experience.

As he whispered the Koinè words for the inspection spell, "Episkopé, episkopé kai upotupò," he channeled a small amount of mana into the ritual. The air around him shifted, the pentagram glowing faintly in the dust. The ritual would reveal any hidden dangers within the book, traps, or curses that could catch an unwary reader off guard.

It had helped him a lot when trawling through old inheritances for anything of worth, especially since few could glean as much as he did with such base magic.

Nick's sense of the outer world faded as the spell took hold, his awareness concentrating to encompass only the book's aura. What he found wasn't a malevolent force, but it wasn't harmless either. Layers of magic woven into the tome began to reveal themselves, intricate and carefully placed. This was the work of someone who knew what they were doing.

The first layer was easy to understand: a locking charm designed to protect the book from unworthy eyes. It wasn't an active barrier but required a certain level of magical aptitude to bypass. Nick could tell that the charm wasn't just a simple lock but keyed to a sense of worthiness. Only those deemed suitable could fully access the book's contents.

The second layer was a secrecy spell. It masked the book's magical nature, making it appear ordinary to anyone not actively looking for enchantments. That explained why the priests hadn't noticed it despite having enough mana—if the magic was subtle enough, it could easily slip under the radar of anyone not expecting to find something magical in this dusty old library. Nick couldn't help but smile at that. Whoever had hidden this book here had been clever.

The third layer, however, puzzled him. It was some kind of plant-based magic intertwined with the fibers of the pages. At first, he thought it might be a preservation charm to keep the book from decaying over time. But there was something else to it—something alive. The magic felt vibrant, like nothing he had encountered before. It took him a moment to realize that this spell, unlike the two others, was the work of a true master. Someone who could do things he could hardly imagine had carefully poured over this little book to ensure it would not crumble with time.

For all that Nick prided over his accumulated knowledge, he was well aware that what he could do in his last life would have barely been considered passable for an apprentice back when magic was alive. In a dying world, it was impressive, but now that he lived in a golden age, he had to adjust his expectations of what was possible.

The dryad should have been enough, but if he was honest with himself, her overwhelming presence had distracted him. It was difficult to consider such a creature as something he could compare himself to. This book, however, he understood.

But how to keep it?

Releasing the spell, Nick saw his opportunity as Elia chased the dust bunny between the benches. He directed a flick of unrefined mana toward a nearby chair. The legs wobbled for a moment, then tipped over, crashing into Elia's path just as she leaped for the dust bunny.

"Hey!" Elia yelped as she tripped, tumbling to the ground in a heap. Seeing its chance, the dust bunny jumped on her head, standing victorious. Nick quickly slid the druid's diary into his bag, concealing it beneath a stack of old papers, before rushing out of his chair to help the girl.

Nick hurried down the dirt road. His heart was racing with excitement, thoughts spinning with possibilities. The Diary of Roberta, Druid of the Green Ocean. He could hardly wait to dive into it, to decipher its secrets, and to uncover whatever forgotten knowledge it held. The thought made him giddy, and he couldn't help but grin as his boots kicked up small puffs of dust with each step.

He didn't expect to find any legendary magic, but even just studying the ever-lasting spell, as he had temporarily dubbed it, would undoubtedly further his studies beyond anything else in this little town.

He had already started planning—where he'd study, how he'd ward his room against interruptions, which spells he'd first try to modify with the knowledge he'd glean. Honestly, he might be going a bit overboard, but this was the kind of discovery he could have only dreamt of in his previous life-

A soft cough interrupted his thoughts, and Nick froze in his tracks. His giddy excitement vanished, replaced by a sinking feeling in his gut. Slowly, he turned his head towards the side of the house, and there, standing with crossed arms and stern faces, were his parents. His mother, Elena, stood with her foot tapping against the ground, her sharp eyes fixed on him. His father, Eugene, was beside her, arms crossed in a more relaxed stance but still carrying an air of stern authority.

Nick's shoulders slumped immediately. Great. His dreams of pouring over the book in the quiet of his room slipped away as reality came crashing down on him.

"Hello, Mother, Father," he mumbled, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible despite the clear tension in the air. He took a tentative step forward, but the look in his mother's eyes stopped him cold.

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" Elena's voice was sharp, but it carried a note of fear that made Nick flinch. "Running off into the woods, meeting with a fae of all things, and then practicing unsupervised magic?! What were you thinking?!"

Nick opened his mouth to respond, but his mother cut him off, stepping forward with a look of sheer exasperation. "Honestly, Nick, I thought you'd grown up. You've been so quiet lately, I got even worried—" She paused as if struggling to find the right words. "I thought you were maturing and focusing on your studies, but no. The moment I take my eyes off you, you're back to chasing after trouble."

Nick winced at the disappointment in her tone. "It wasn't like that, mum. I just—"

"Just what?" she interrupted again, her hands touching her hips. "Just thought you'd ignore everything we've taught you? Run headlong into danger? What if something had happened to you out there? Do you have any idea how much that scared me?!"

Nick dropped his gaze to the ground, his excitement thoroughly squashed. "I'm sorry," he muttered, but Elena wasn't finished.

"Sorry won't cut it this time, Nick. I'm going to make sure you're too busy to even think about another foolish escapade like that. You'll be helping me in the garden, assisting your father in his duties, and studying under the vicar directly if that's what it takes to keep you out of trouble. I thought we were past this stage, but clearly, I was mistaken."

Her words stung more than any punishment, and Nick could only nod silently. He had no real defense—not when she was so clearly worried for him. The fear in her voice was more cutting than any scolding.

Elena let out a long sigh, her frustration giving way to exhaustion. "Go to your room. I'll make sure you have plenty to do tomorrow." With that, she turned and walked back toward the house, leaving Nick standing there with his father.

Eugene didn't say anything for a long moment, simply watching Nick with a thoughtful expression. Nick shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, wondering what was coming next. His father wasn't usually the disciplinarian, but the quiet scrutiny made Nick nervous.

Finally, Eugene sighed softly and uncrossed his arms. "You know, you really should be more careful," he muttered. "Your mother was terrified when she heard what happened. She thought you were safe out there, just playing in the fields, but then you somehow earned a dryad's attention. I've never even heard of that happening before, and I lived almost all my life here."

Nick squirmed under the weight of his father's words. "I didn't mean to worry her. It just… happened."

Eugene nodded slowly. "I know. But you need to think about how your actions affect others, not just yourself. You're not a child anymore, Nick."

Nick looked up at his father, expecting more of a reprimand, but Eugene's expression softened into a small smile. "Don't worry too much about the punishment, though. I'll take over some of it. I know your mother can be a bit… intense when she's worried, but she just wants what's best for you. We both do."

Nick blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected his father to take his side, at least not in this way. "Thanks, Father," he said, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders, if only a little.