Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

Nick's body protested as he sat up, sore from the previous day's exertions. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to sit in silence, taking slow, deliberate breaths. The air seemed lighter now, more responsive. His newfound sense itched at the back of his mind, allowing him to vaguely make out two bodies moving just below his room.

That'd be Mom and Devon, I suppose. I didn't pay enough attention to notice yesterday, but having a sense for every displacement of air around me is basically like having Hoplite's Help on all the time. Well, it's a bit vaguer, but I'm sure I can fine-tune it.

Nick took his time getting dressed, not ready for an ordinary conversation yet. His brother's departure loomed, and the entire family was caught up in preparations. His mother's voice carried faintly through the walls, urging Devon to hurry up. The busyness was a blessing; it gave Nick the space to think.

He rubbed his face, letting everything he had been too tired to consider wash over him. The ritual, the fight, and the lives he'd taken felt distant, like a story someone else had lived. Yet, it was undeniably his.

Killing two men had been necessary. They'd been a threat to him and, worse, to the girls. There had been no hesitation in his actions, no moment of doubt. And that, more than anything, was what troubled him.

Back on Earth, he had faced life-and-death situations before. As an occultist, he often fought other practitioners to keep hold of his few resources. The times he failed still stung, though he always told himself he had done his best. Killing had been an option, but it wasn't something he did lightly, as it often only meant running from his opponent's faction. But yesterday, it had been his first instinct.

Why was it so easy?

Nick leaned against his small desk, allowing his new sense to fill his mind with information. Motes of dust drifted aimlessly while insects he would have never noticed scurried about.

Was this new power worth the life of two men? While it hadn't felt wrong at the time, the lack of remorse gnawed at him. What would old Nick have thought?

I'd like to think he would have been horrified, but I can't be sure. There seems to be a barrier between us that makes it hard for me to act as who I used to be. It sure doesn't come from kid Nick.

"Maybe something did change during the reincarnation," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Or maybe it's just this place. Everything is different here."

The memory of Old Ogden's warning surfaced. The old man had told him how the system could shape not just abilities but also a person's essence. Was the cold efficiency he'd displayed a side effect of his Class? Or had the new abilities he wielded done something to him?

Nick clenched his fists. He didn't have answers but wouldn't let himself slide into a mindset where life held no value. He would keep an eye on his thoughts and his actions. If this world demanded a harder edge, he would give it—but not at the expense of who he was.

Pushing the moral quandary aside, Nick focused on more practical matters. He sat cross-legged on the floor, summoning his status screen.