Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai-Chapter 101

For a single heartbeat, the battlefield froze.

The fire that had covered the Oni flickered across its moss-covered form. The dirt and stone torn from the earth hung midair, slowly tumbling back down. The echoes of Eugene’s attack still reverberated through the clearing.

And then, pain took Nick. Searing heat flared from the fresh cut on his palm, crawling up his veins like molten fire. He barely had time to realize that something was trying to crawl its way into him before [Blasphemy] flared to life.

A cold, numbing sensation rushed through his limbs, sweeping the foreign presence away as if it had never existed. Nick exhaled, blinking away the haze that had begun to cloud his mind.

For the briefest moment, he thought he heard a woman scream. It was a high-pitched, inhuman shriek of fury and despair, echoing from nowhere and everywhere at once. As if their last hope had been vanquished.

Then, blessed silence.

It was pretty obvious who that had been, and the implications of Dewdrop’s existence even beyond death were numerous, but Nick couldn’t afford to waste mental energy thinking about it. Not now. Kill the giant Oni first, think about the almost-possession later.

The ritual was activating, and if he lost control now, it would all be for nothing. Nick tightened his grip on the spell, forcing his will through the magic, and began to chant.

“Far vel, min venn, for vinden kaller,”

“Du skal reise, men aldri vende tilbake.”

(“Farewell, my friend, for the wind calls,”)

(“You shall journey, but never return.”)

The moment the words left his lips, the ritual surged to life. Not only was he urging the oni’s spirit to leave its body, but at the same time, his words could be interpreted as a goodbye to the dead soldiers and adventurers who had fallen in battle. That would give the ritual much more power than he could grant it on his own.

I so love it when I can be this efficient. No waste here.

From the five Raidho runes, chains of silvery light began to emerge. It was slower than he’d like, given that he hadn’t been the one to kill the “sacrifices”, but now that the process had started, Nick just needed to guide them.

The Oni roared in fury at the sight, instinctively sensing that this was a significant threat. An oppressive pressure crashed over the battlefield as it banged its fists on the ground, and Nick’s knees buckled.

He wasn’t alone; all around him, men collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

Eugene alone remained standing, wreathed in crimson flames, propped up by his blazing sword. He acted as a beacon, drawing the monster’s attention to himself to give his son the time he needed.

Nick gritted his teeth, his breath coming in short gasps as he forced himself to focus. The chains were forming alright, but they weren’t strong enough to be binding yet. He had to anchor them, and to do that, he needed to reach between the layers of reality.

He extended his senses through the overwhelming weight of the Oni’s presence, reaching for the spiritual threads that tied the monster to the forest.

It took surprisingly little effort, thanks to the fae essence dispersed throughout the ritual.

A vast, pulsing web of energy stretched from the Oni into the very heart of the dungeon. Nick could see it now through the connection he had forged.

The Oni was a conduit for the entire forest. Whatever bargain it had struck transformed it into a raging manifestation of the dungeon’s will.

Though the container was limited, its power source was nearly infinite. Nick was tempted to reach into it for a single moment.

It’s right there. If I tap into it, I could—

The thought ended as quickly as it came. He knew better. Even with [Blasphemy] protecting him, even with his mind shielded against corruption, this was far beyond anything he could control.

That much power was not meant for mortals. He was sure that once he drank from it he would never be able to let go, and it would consume him from the inside out.

Nick forced himself away from the web, focusing on the ritual. No shortcuts. No stolen power. I have everything I need.

The chains of light shot forward at his silent command, winding around the Oni. It thrashed, trying to break them through physical might alone, but they only coiled tighter.

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Nick pushed harder, guiding the magic with every ounce of willpower he had. The Oni screamed a guttural, rage-filled howl. The forest itself fought back, groaning as the trees twisted violently, their roots surging up to crush the ritual runes.

Nick refused to let it happen.

From his crouched position, he lashed out with [Jet Streams], cutting apart the attacking branches, shredding the roots before they could reach the runes.

He could feel it now. The spirit was coming loose. Slowly, painfully, the Oni’s connection to the dungeon was starting to unravel.

The monster thrashed and clawed at the air, struggling to remain anchored to the material plane. Nick’s head pounded and his body trembled as the effort threatened to crush him. He was reaching his limit. Just a little more.

The monster bellowed a terrible cry that shook the ground, reaching for the sky as if trying to claw its own essence back into itself.

But it was too late.

The ritual chains coiled tighter, ensnaring the spectral form beginning to separate from the Oni’s physical body. The magic closed in, winding tighter and tighter—

And with a shuddering roar of defiance, the Oni’s spirit was torn away.

Nick barely remained conscious as he felt the ritual reach its apex, forcing himself to whisper the final words.

“Ha en god reise… og aldri kom tilbake.”

(“Have a good trip… and never come back.”)

The circle flared. The Oni’s body collapsed. It was mortal now, vulnerable.

Eugene raised his burning sword, and attacked.

———

Nick’s breath came in ragged gasps as he slowly pushed himself up from the cold earth. His limbs felt like lead, and exhaustion threatened to send him back into the dark. His head pounded with the lingering aftereffects of the ritual, and the echoes of his own voice still rang in his ears.

But he was alive, and more importantly, the ritual had worked.

Tentatively, he extended his senses, letting the wind dance across the battlefield, mapping the aftermath.

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The first thing he noticed was that the ground had settled—the tremors that had thrown everyone down had stopped, leaving the expedition members scattered across the clearing. But apart from a few grunts and groans as they fought to get back on their feet, no one seemed worse off than they had been before the ritual began.

That was the good news. The bad news?

The Oni was still alive.

A deep rumbling growl made Nick’s stomach clench as his eyes snapped toward the fallen titan. It was on one knee, its moss-covered hide smoldering where Eugene’s flames had torn into it.

But most importantly, it was pouring mana into the earth. Or at least, it was trying to. The Oni’s massive fingers pressed against the dirt, trying to channel its energy, but nothing happened.

The roots didn’t respond, the trees didn’t shift. The forest ignored it. Nick felt a bitter laugh rise in his throat, and he let it out despite himself. “How the mighty have fallen.”

It was a sight he knew he would never forget. The monster that had nearly wiped them out looked weak for the first time.

It was still deadly, still massive, still terrifying. But not invincible.

Nick might have enjoyed the moment a little longer, but the sound of rushed footsteps caught his attention. One of the adventurers broke from the group, sword in hand, his expression twisted in battle-lust.

Oh, you idiot.

Nick immediately gathered as much wind as he could, readying to intervene.

He was too late to stop the fool, but he could try to soften the blow. With a roar of pure rage, the monster lashed out. Its uninjured hand shot forward, moving far faster than something of its size had any right to.

The adventurer barely had time to scream. A sickening crunch echoed through the clearing as the Oni’s palm slammed into him, sending him flying like a ragdoll. Just before the man crashed into a boulder, Nick summoned a powerful cushion of wind.

The impact was still bad, but the adventurer’s body didn’t break.

Nick could feel the man’s rapid heartbeat, the shallow but steady breaths. He was alive, if barely. His arm was ruined, and he was bleeding sluggishly, but Nick could feel him reach for a potion. He’ll survive. Idiots are always the last ones to go.

Nick quickly whispered a message to the rest of the men, carrying his voice with the wind. “The Oni’s weakened. It can’t use magic anymore but is still just as strong. Don’t get careless.”

If anything, his warning seemed to energize the strike group. No longer held back by fear of the Oni’s magic, the soldiers and adventurers charged forward, their hesitation melting away into pure determination.

The Oni bellowed, rising to its full height, flexing its lone remaining arm. It turned to face the wave of men, weeping blood sluggishly. Nick had to admit that the creature was truly magnificent, in a terrifying way. It hadn’t considered fleeing for a single second.

Before it could engage with the soldiers, Eugene crashed into its arm like a flaming comet, cutting through the line he had set there previously, and finally lopping the arm off.

The Oni stumbled back, clutching the stump with a bellow of pain.

Eugene retreated swiftly, watching the creature with a mixture of satisfaction and frustration. He hadn’t done enough to put it down for good. Even the loss of an arm didn’t seem enough for that. But he had done damage.

There was a blackened patch of burnt flesh where his blade had passed. “It’s not regenerating,” Eugene growled, flaring his flames in excitement.

Nick could hear the grin in his voice, and he made sure to share his words with everyone who could hear them.

The Oni roared in fury, shaking the earth, but it couldn’t stop them now. It was like a wounded dog, barking madly to scare them away. It was too late for that.

The strike group swarmed, attacking from all angles. Eugene burned through its defenses, slicing deep cuts with his [Solar Blade], hacking at its remaining arm.

Nick pushed his senses to the limit, constantly intercepting the chunks of earth and stone it kicked up in an effort to keep them at bay.

Even without its magic, the Oni was a powerful opponent. It swung wildly, kicking soldiers like dolls, breaking bones and stone with the same ease.

Nick made sure to put an end to that before it could regain any momentum. [Jet Stream].

A piercing drill of wind smashed into its calves, carving through its thick hide and forcing it down. It crashed onto one knee, swinging what was left of its arm desperately.

From that point on, it was death by a thousand cuts. The strike group pressed forward, hacking, slashing, striking, burning.

The Oni fought, raged, thrashed. It crushed men, broke weapons, bellowed curses in an alien tongue.

But it was dying. Slowly, piece by piece, they cut it down.

Eugene’s sword blazed white-hot as he raised it high. The Oni glared, breathing in ragged gasps. Its once-brilliant white eyes were clouded with pain and fear.

Eugene didn’t hesitate. His sword sliced through the Oni’s neck with a scream of defiance.

A wave of fire followed, cauterizing the stump and preventing any hope for regeneration.

For a moment, all was silent. Then, the system dinged.

You have participated in the slaying of a [Moss Oni - Level 72]

+ 175,000 Exp

You have leveled up!

You have leveled up!

You have leveled up!

And just like that, the Oni died.