Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

For a moment, Nick could only stare in horror.

His father had just been swallowed whole by the clay monster that wore his face.

The thing had lost its humanoid shape, melting into a shifting mass of hardened earth and tangled seaweed, which had lunged forward with a mindless hunger, consuming Eugene in an instant.

Nick's mind screamed at him to do something, anything—but there was nothing he could do, not without risking his father's life in the process.

He forced himself to think, knowing he had precious few seconds to do something. A [Wind Burst]? Too dangerous—it could harm his father just as easily as it could tear the monster apart.

A [Force Shield]? Useless—it wouldn't help unless Eugene could fight his way out. The clay monster was already too tightly wrapped around him for Nick to insert a shield. There was no air between Eugene's skin and the mud.

Fire! His father needed fire. He was most likely immune to the level of heat Nick could bring to bear, while the monster had already shown its weakness to the element.

Nick cast [Minor Elemental Manipulation] before he could even finish formulating the plan. A gout of flames emerged from his wand, bathing the area.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to have much effect. The spell was too low-level to harm a monster capable of keeping up with Eugene. But after stopping the mana, he noticed something.

The clay was drying. Cracks formed along its surface, thin at first, but spreading rapidly.

Then, Nick felt the air heat up, and his despair vanished. Dad's still fighting.

Even as the clay shifted, attempting to reinforce itself and smother whatever struggle was happening inside, Nick could feel the heat continue to rise.

Hairline cracks became fissures, the clay blackening, smoking from the inside out. Then, all at once, the monster exploded.

A shockwave rocked the battlefield as chunks of superheated clay rained in every direction, hissing as they struck the damp earth.

Nick instinctively threw up a force barrier, redirecting the debris away from the others.

And at the center of the explosion, a figure wreathed in flames emerged.

His father stood among the wreckage, his fiery armor blazing so intensely that the air around him shimmered. His face bore a deadly scowl, his eyes burning like molten embers, and his sword glowed white-hot.

Even the surviving clay monsters hesitated, their faceless heads twitching toward Eugene as if suddenly aware of what they had just awoken.

Nick barely saw his father move.

The closest clay monster had no time to react before Eugene's blade carved through its torso, sending molten chunks flying in every direction.

The next he slammed into with a shoulder check, his flaming armor melting through it like wax before he followed up with a downward slash, splitting it in half.

The remaining monsters tried to retreat, showing a strangely animalistic survival instinct. It was too late.

With a growl of pure fury, Eugene swung his sword in a wide arc, sending a wave of fire rolling across the battlefield.

Nick saw that although most of the flames were directed at the brook, some were approaching them. Before the fire could reach them, he empowered his barrier, diverting the worst of the heat toward the retreating enemies.

One by one, the clay monsters burned. The fire ate away at their bodies, turning wet mud into brittle ash, their frames collapsing into nothing before they could even make a final attack. Only those still in the brook remained now, bubbling furiously from the ambient heat.

His father saw it too, and turned to face the water, still burning like a living torch. Then, with a sweeping motion, he thrust his sword forward and unleashed hell.

A tidal wave of fire and heat surged toward the brook, crashing into the water like a meteor. The brook exploded into a cloud of thick, scalding steam, sending a white haze rolling over the battlefield.

Within seconds, the riverbed was bone-dry, the earth hardened and cracked from the sheer temperature shift.

Nick coughed, waving a hand in front of his face. He then used his control over the air to push the steam upward, dispersing it before it could choke the others. The air cleared, and they could see that more creatures crawled from the brook. No more monsters stirred.

They had won.

For a long moment, the only sound was the distant crackling of dying flames. Eugene stood at the center of it all, his fiery aura slowly dimming, the last remnants of his burning armor fading into embers. Once the air had reached a safe temperature, Nick approached him, reached into his pack, and pulled out a glass vial filled with a glowing blue liquid. Silently, he extended it toward his father.

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Eugene turned, still scowling with rage, but his expression softened when he saw the potion. With a soft grunt, he took the vial, uncorked it, and swallowed its contents. Moments later, the bruises on his limbs and neck started to disappear as the healing magic did its work.

Nick smirked. "Not bad."

His father snorted. "Not bad?"

"I mean, you did let yourself get eaten." He shrugged.

Eugene gave him a long look. Then, he chuckled, shaking his head.

Nick allowed himself a small smile.

Nick exhaled, letting his muscles relax as the last traces of heat dissipated from the battlefield. He glanced around, ensuring no more clay creatures stirred from the now-dried brook. The group had already started shifting back into formation, picking through the remains of the creatures and digging for monster cores.

A soft chime echoed in his head as the System sent its notifications.

He glanced at the glowing text that only he could see.