Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

Exploring the temple ruins—doing what they had come here to do in the first place—took them only half an hour.

There wasn't much left of the previous occupants. This temple, unlike the House of Healing and the Messenger's temple, did not seem to have a spirit guardian, nor did it have hidden tunnels.

If it once housed secrets, it did not now.

Elia continued searching through the rubble for idols, scrolls, or even signs of spiritual activity, but Nick knew there weren't any from the start.

No domain had greeted him upon entering, nor could he sense any hint of spiritual weight. It was exactly what it seemed to be: a ruin.

Given how hard their foes had fought to keep hold of it, he'd have expected something more, but he could only conclude that they chose it for its easily defensible location, rather than any other reason.

It was a good thing. There was no demon for them to exorcise, nor a maddened spirit to put to rest.

Not that Nick had done that last time, but the result was the same, so he wasn't particularly bothered.

"If you guys don't mind, I think I need to lie down a bit," Rhea murmured, already pulling out her sleeping bag.

It was late afternoon, still too early for them to set up camp, but Nick and Elia didn't protest. Rhea had been running on a stamina potion and had just cast a full transmutation for the first time. She was allowed to rest.

"Go ahead, I'll poke around for a while. There might be something we missed, or the rest might come back," he replied as Elia silently returned to the ruins.

Nick sighed. They had triumphed over a prepared and dangerous enemy, achieving significant results in their personal growth. And yet, he felt frustrated.

He was missing something big. The strange behavior of the grassland's monsters could have been explained in numerous ways, and while the sudden fighting between the dark dwarves and the Royal Army in the mountains was a bit too closely linked to the dungeon's destruction to be considered a coincidence, he could have overlooked it.

But the strange behavior of the last dwarf… No, there was something else at play.

The thing is, should I care? I already know I don't want to join the kingdom's forces, whether as a soldier or a noble. So it's really none of my business if an eldritch cult is spreading.

And yet, he kept thinking about it. Partly, it was just curiosity. He had several puzzle pieces, but no idea what image they should create, and that was enough for him to want to solve it.

But beyond that, his instincts told him this wouldn't be resolved quietly; it wasn't just a moment of unrest. A name like the Sleeping One doesn't bode well. I couldn't feel any fluctuations when the dwarf said it, but that might just be because it's not the actual name, but rather a title they gave it.

And given his desire to travel around and discover all the wonderful things this new world had to offer… Well, he would have liked to know what he should prepare for.

The ragtag group didn't have anything incriminating among their belongings, which, if anything, only made them more suspicious.

Whoever had heard of bandits without loot? Especially those strong enough to easily overpower any militia the nearby villages could muster.

Their belongings were neatly arranged. Each person had a bed and a small private space for themselves. He could only find weapons oil, spare daggers, and a few industrial-grade potions.

No personal belongings. That is the final detail that makes it clear these were not ordinary bandits.

Even beyond the unusual mix of races and classes, Nick would have assumed they came from a military background just based on that.

All without even considering that the dwarf exploded after he mentioned this Sleeping One. It must have been a mental trigger, right? Ugh, mind magic really isn't my strong suit.

With a sigh, Nick sat down amid the items he'd collected. None of the potions could compare to what Ogden had given them, but they could still be resold for some coin.

Looking down at his hand, he summoned a wisp of spiritual mana, observing how a thread of confused blue hazily swirled around it.

Unlike elemental mana, which could be relied upon to mimic its natural counterpart and, without specific commands, always appeared consistently, spiritual mana was much harder to define.

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Throughout the battle, Nick channeled his emotions to counter the dwarves' mental spells. Yet, even though he executed nearly every aspect identically, he experienced vastly different outcomes with each of his [Spirit Blast].

It was a new spell, that was true, and in a school of magic he only knew peripherally, but that still didn't account for the gap in power and effects.

[Spiritual Hurricane] had killed the rock worm instantly. There had been no hesitation, no gradual shift.

It had taken his sheer determination to kill the monster, and what had come out reflected it. [Spirit Blast] seemed to rely more on his underlying emotions.

He opened the System window, hoping to gain some clarity.