Low-Fantasy Occultist

Nick met Marius’s eyes from the shadows, feeling his Pride surge. The boy was too far gone to stop himself now, so he didn’t even try to talk.

Instead, he focused on visualizing the glowing rune at the center of the crystal—the trigger mechanism meant to reverse the flow of mana and explode the accumulated energy—and exerted his will on it.

Light blossomed around Marius, gathering momentum as the crystal began to influence the volatile energies surrounding them.

Above, the Tidemaster’s voice rose to a fever pitch. The crowd's chanting became a roar, shaking the stone around them like the rushing ocean. The faith in the ether was so heavy it almost felt tangible, and as it grew, it fed the crystal, helping it expand its reach.

Nick’s mana lashed out then, bypassing the intervening space entirely and striking the crystal with the force of a hammer blow delivered from the inside out.

Despite the tense atmosphere, his spell's result was almost subdued. The crystal just fractured, with a hairline crack forming down its center and severing the mana circuit.

The humming vibration ceased instantly, and the much vaunted catalyst became nothing more than a broken rock.

Marius kept staring into the darkness for a few more seconds, as if waiting for judgment to be rendered. When nothing of the sort happened, he looked down at the crystal.

His breath hitched in a sob, and he shook as he realized that his grand, tragic sacrifice had just failed.

"No..." Marius whispered, his voice cracking. "No, it can’t—“

Above them, the Tidemaster swung his staff down, and Nick couldn’t waste any more attention on the foolish noble.

The stone groaned as a wave of blue light swept from the stage, gathering the Valis’ waters and washing over the docks. Nick felt the spirituality of thousands of people begin to unify, forming a web that would freeze the ether into place. It was water magic in the loosest sense, more conceptual than physical, but he could tell it still followed the same rules.

Shifting his focus to [Empyrean Intuition], Nick did his best to filter out the overwhelming brightness of so many people coming together for a single purpose.

Pillars of faith were rising among the currents of the ether, reinforcing the blessing. If it hadn’t been an emergency, he would’ve paused in awe at the sight, and might have even watched the whole thing come together to learn more about how high-level faith spells work, but he had to act now.

Unfortunately, he knew he couldn't overpower that. He was just a level seventy-eight Occultist facing a Prestige priest channeling the will of thousands. It was like trying to stop a tsunami with a bucket, and if he tried to match his will against it, he would have been swept away.

But I don't need to stop it, Nick knew, recalling his experiments from the past few days. I just need to poison the well enough to keep it from coming together completely.

It was still a gamble, but it was the best he could come up with, and there was no time for second thoughts anyway.

Reaching deep into his soul, past the elemental reservoirs, down into the cold, he felt for the sticky darkness he’d come to associate with his baser emotions, and summoned the [Mire of Avarice].

The muddy liquid that sat at the base of the Tree of Life surged out of him, covering his skin and forming a cloak, but today, Nick couldn’t stop there.

He ignored Marius, who had now collapsed to his knees, muttering to himself, and sent the dark waters out in a pulse, targeting the etheric pillars only he could see.

Charity is a lie, Nick projected, summoning the Shard and channeling his will through it, fueling his spell as much as possible. Water does not flow freely. Water takes and takes all. Water is mine.

Once, he would have made the mistake of targeting the Tidemaster directly. As the focal point of the ritual, he was the most obvious weak spot, but the common sense of Earth didn’t apply at these levels. If he had, it would have turned into a contest of wills he wasn’t sure he could win.

No, I know I wouldn’t. But that’s fine, I have other ways.

So he concentrated on the structure itself, and the mire surged up the pillars, invisible to the naked eye but screaming through the ether, infecting the blue light and making it muggy.

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Above, the Tidemaster frowned, sensing that something was wrong.

Nick felt the resistance increase immediately, and the rest of the mire washed against the pillars like a wall of solid steel.

The Tidemaster’s Authority was vast, and the mana he wielded pushed back, burning away the corruption almost as quickly as he could channel it.

I can't break through, Nick gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face. He’s too strong.

The Tidemaster raised his staff higher, and the water around him frothed, ready to wash away the stain and proceed with his blessing.

That was when something else happened. High above, on the VIP balcony, Archmage Tholm leaned forward, his focus sharpening on the blessing, and at the same time, a pulse of pure power rippled outward.

It was a subtle detail, easily lost in the raging battle fought in the ether, and even the more sensitive mages would have missed it, given the sheer concentration of wills the Tidemaster was commanding.

Yet, it was precisely because of how demanding it was to bear the weight of an entire city’s spiritual power that the pulse was so effective, essentially knocking the priest off balance.

The ether's stability flickered, and the perfect harmony of the chant wavered for a brief moment.

An opening!

Nick didn't hesitate to seize the opportunity, knowing he wouldn’t get another chance. He poured everything he had left into the breach, causing the Mire to bubble up unstably, growing stronger and seeping into the cracks that were beginning to appear. When he thought he couldn't do any more, he detonated the spell, making it burst violently and unleash its contents through the structure of the blessing.

There was a long pause during which what was happening in the ether wasn’t reflected in the material world. The blessing fell apart, too tainted to be held by faith magic, and yet, the priest’s control over the waters remained too strong.

But even that couldn’t last very long. The water rising behind the Tidemaster shifted from a bright blue to an oily black, losing its buoyancy and divine grace.

Gravity reasserted itself with force the moment his control slipped.

The construct collapsed like sludge, hitting the stage with a heavy thud and splashing over the Tidemaster’s robes.

It struck the crowd a moment later, causing many to stumble backward, while others flailed as the wave's overwhelming force sent them crashing into one another.

Fortunately, it wasn’t enough to cause serious damage, but before the people could regroup, the secondary component revealed itself.

A smell started filling the air, and it wasn't the fresh scent of the ocean. No, this was the stench of a stagnant pond, including rotting algae and sewage.

Screams echoed across the plaza as the people came down from the divine fervor that had gripped them, snapped back into reality, and found the scenery no longer as pleasant.

Dead fish, bloated and grey, bobbed to the surface of the black sludge, their eyes milky white. Not only had the blessing not washed away their sins, but it had dredged up the muck from the bottom of the harbor.

The Tidemaster stood in the middle of the mess, his pristine clothes and appearance stained by the Mire. He looked at his staff, then at the crowd, and for the first time, the absolute certainty on his face cracked, and he looked up at the balcony.

Tholm had settled back down and was looking down at the stage with a mask of polite concern. Beside him, Politod turned a page in his book, bored, while the Duke was smiling behind his wine glass.

“Now it’s up to you,” Nick hissed, then grabbed Marius by the collar and started pulling him away. He didn’t want to hang around if anyone got the bright idea of looking under the platform.

The young noble stared at the black water, frozen in shock. “Come on, move!” Nick growled, shaking him.

"It... it didn't work," Marius mumbled. "It failed. He’d promised…”

“You are an idiot of the highest order,” Nick replied, pulling him toward the dark alleys, where he planned to slip out. The farther he could get from the priests, the better, knowing they’d soon be looking for any scapegoat.

Behind them, panic was spreading. The Tidemaster was shouting orders, trying to contain and cleanse the tainted waters, but the moment was lost. His blessing had failed, and people were rushing away, both to clean themselves and to escape the explosive situation.

If there was one thing the people of Alluria had learned over the past months, it was to get out of dodge quickly.

“[Mist of Confusion!]” Tim’s voice rang out from the crowd. A thick, grey fog rolled in from the side alleys, blending with the black sludge and smoke from the incense, causing the chaos to spread even further.

A massive burst of water magic swept over the festival as the Tidemaster had enough, cleansing much of the taint left by the Mire and freeing himself from its muck, but it was too late by then.

Nick slipped into the alleys and left the festival behind.

It was over, for now.