Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

If Alluria's defensive wards layered upon its walls had been enough to surprise Nick with their intricate design, the Magic Tower took his breath away.

Every stone that composed it was carved with hundreds of glyphs, each working in harmony with the surrounding interlocking pieces. Sufficient mana to power a Greater Ritual filled the entire structure, making it by far the most impressive magical architecture he'd ever seen, in both lives.

The more Nick observed it, the more he realized that what he could see was only the tip of the iceberg. In fact, when he tried to peer at the Tower through the ether, he was nearly blinded and had to forcefully shut his senses down.

Most wards are designed to be as unobtrusive as possible. Not necessarily to hide, but to make it harder for an enemy to discover their inner workings. This… this is the opposite of that.

That someone could support a construct of this level without even bothering to anchor it to a leyline like a dungeon significantly increased Nick's opinion of the local mages.

What he had felt so far wasn't very impressive, but clearly, he'd only faced the bottom of the barrel on the streets. There must be powerful beings hiding behind the tower's bright glow, strong enough that even with his latest upgrades, he'd barely register as more than a gnat to them.

But that was fine. It was the reason he was here in the first place. If he could learn from such great mages, his growth would skyrocket. Especially because there is little more occultist-y than stealing magical knowledge and repurposing it for obscure ends. Really, I'm just following my path here.

"You alright?" A hand shook his shoulder roughly, and Nick blinked out of his daze, turning to look at his brother, who was gazing at him with fond amusement.

"Yeah, just fine," he muttered, turning away. He still had a few days before he needed to take the exam, and he overheard that participants could show up on the day of the test to take it, but he wanted to avoid any last-minute drama, so he started walking toward the smaller building to the side with the clear sign indicating it was the Tower's public office.

Compared to the massive spear, it was tiny, but as he moved closer, Nick realized it wasn't much smaller than a noble's mansion, just a bit squat.

Magic also hung all around it, though these wards were not defensive in nature, but rather aimed at reading the mana signature of whoever entered the building, feeding that information to someone inside.

Nick felt them wash over him as he stepped through the open doors, curiously observing their interaction with his mana.

As expected, [Blasphemy] blocked anything more than a brief observation, preventing them from obtaining a clear reading. However, instead of resulting in a blank output or a typical-commoner result without magic, he sensed several more complex wards activating at once, not targeting him but working to interpret the limited data collected.

By the time the magical construct finished its examination, Nick had reached the end of the line of hopefuls wanting to sign up.

Considering that the applications had been open for over a month by this point, the fact that so many people were still trying to get in meant that admittance was an even bigger deal than he'd thought.

Something akin to a ping echoed in the distance, only noticeable through the dense layers of mana because he was actively listening for it. He sensed one of the presences at the back of the building sit up and take notice. Whatever the readout of his signature had been, it was apparently important enough; the mage glanced at it once, cursed quietly, and hurried out of his office.

There goes my anonymity. I suppose it was a bit too much to hope that I could keep it to myself. It makes sense that an institution whose whole purpose is to gather and develop new mages into powerhouses would have a way to parse through such defenses.

[Blasphemy] hadn't failed. No, it had done its job exactly as intended, which was a result in and of itself. Not many apprentices would be able to no-sell the wards pressing on them, after all.

Still, the atrium remained calm, unaware of the buzzing movements just a couple of hundred feet away. The line kept moving as prospects of all ages, from barely out of childhood to middle-aged, signed their names and paid the fee.

"You might not be the youngest," Devon murmured, watching as a kid who had probably just gotten his class put down a silver coin spoke his name with exaggerated confidence, as if expecting the two women managing the process to fawn over him.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

They barely blinked, maintaining their expressions completely neutral, as they processed his request and handed a slip of paper back, before urging the kid to move on.

Nick almost expected him to complain about the poor treatment, but he seemed to have the good sense to remember where he was, because he only sputtered for a moment before grabbing the ticket and storming away, followed by an older butler who nodded apologetically to the two witches.

Considering the amount of mana Nick could sense within them, it was a good thing they seemed so determined to stay neutral, because they could have vaporized the arrogant kid if they wanted to.

"I doubt he'll pass," Nick answered. Sure, the kid had a magical class, but he was clearly nowhere near the average level of the applicants, and considering how strict the standards were said to be, Nick doubted even a tenth of the people in line would get in.

Sonya looked at him curiously, though she kept her questions to herself, while Devon grinned, "Feeling confident, huh?"

"I have good reasons to be," he replied, only then realizing that others had been listening and that his words could have been seen as just as arrogant as the noble kid who'd nearly caused a scene.

After a moment, Nick shrugged. Geniuses were allowed to be arrogant, whereas regular people were not. It was unfair, but that was just how things were, and considering the image he wanted to project, maybe this wouldn't be a bad thing.

People in line gave him a few more annoyed looks, but no one spoke up, and soon the line moved on, efficiently processed by the two witches.

It took only a dozen minutes before he reached the desk, receiving a bored look. "Name, residence, and fee."

"Nicholas Crowley, Wolfram Manor," he said as he slid the silver coin across. The woman nodded, jotting it down, before grabbing a ticket from under the desk and scribbling something on top.

"The exam is in six days. Be here at eight o'clock sharp. Any lateness will be considered a forfeiture. You cannot get a refund if you do not pass. If you do, you will receive a visit from someone who will explain the next steps to you." She said, sounding like she'd already repeated the same phrase a hundred times.

She probably had, given how popular the wish to become a true mage was. Just getting the class isn't enough. I've managed with my otherworldly knowledge, but someone without that will only get so far without proper instruction. Some spells are simple enough to learn, like [Minor Elemental Manipulation], and can be a good starting point, but I doubt most people have the dedication to start so low and work their way up over many years.

As he grabbed the ticket, Nick made it vanish into his ring, causing the witch to raise an eyebrow at the display.

Spatial items weren't as impossibly rare in Alluria as they were in Floria, and he guessed that in the Magic Tower, they'd be even more common, but it was still unusual for a teenage boy to have one.

It meant he was either extremely wealthy, part of high nobility, or something unique. And considering his look and his name, Nick knew the woman had focused on the third option.

Movement at the back of the hall finally signaled that whoever was monitoring the wards was making their move, but surprisingly, no one came to stop him as he walked out.

He did notice, however, that a mage hurriedly approached the desk and took note of his name, and Nick grinned to himself as he walked away.

That's how you lay the groundwork.

"Only seven silver per Anchorhead! You won't find a better price in the West!"

"A hundred coppers!"

"No! A hundred and five!"

"Two silvers!"

Everywhere around him, auctions and negotiations filled the air as the fresh meat market got into the day's rhythm. It was very early, with only the first hints of sunlight peeking through the horizon, but for these people, the most important part of the day was now.

"Getting your hands on the best meat is, of course, very important," his guide, the matronly Miss Perry's son, explained. "But quantity has a quality of its own, and the amount of high-level monster meat coming from the grassland has been decreasing over the past couple of months. Nothing that would bring the market to a halt, but enough that prices have been rising. An Anchorhead would have cost you five silvers before, but seven is a decent price now."

He was an older teenager, thin and short, which was quite amusing considering how corpulent his mother was. However, Nick knew better than to underestimate him. Anthony, as he introduced himself, was a local guide for adventurers and also a D-rank adventurer.

But the way he moved, smooth and fluid, and the amount of mana he held, told Nick he was better than he was officially known as. A rogue of some kind, if I had to guess. Around level forty, which is quite high for a commoner, and even more so for someone only a few years older than me who doesn't have the benefit of nobility.

Nick figured that Anthony wasn't trying to show his true strength, so he stayed silent and nodded in agreement.

Miss Perry had volunteered her son to guide him through the wholesale meat market, which he had initially accepted just as a way to get inside without attracting attention, but now he was intrigued enough that he didn't mind the company.

It wasn't like people wouldn't figure out he had a spatial item soon enough anyway, so another pair of eyes wasn't too high a price to pay.

Though I have to be careful of nimble fingers, I don't think he'd try to steal from me, not with the relationship his mother has with Sonya. However, people can get stupid when they are greedy.

An incredibly thin [Wind Armor] surrounded him, invisible to any but the keenest eyes, and sturdy enough to withstand a few blows. Such a thing would have been wasteful in the excess before, but with [One with the Storm], Nick enjoyed more freedom in how he manipulated his other elemental spells, meaning he could afford some fancy spellwork if it meant he didn't have to worry about his things being stolen.

I'd feel them coming with [Empyrean Intuition] anyway, but this way, I get double assurance. And I expect I'll need it by the time I'm done here.

"Where would you say the largest numbers are sold?" He asked idly, looking around casually.

Anthony hummed, eying him curiously but not questioning his intentions, probably already having a good idea, judging by the way his eyes kept drifting toward Nick's ring. "That would be the Abattoir. If you're looking to dump an entire hunt's worth of monsters, they're the best option. You could get a better price by selling individual parts, but that would take you hours for a single monster, and you don't seem like the type to spend your whole day haggling."

Nick snorted. No, he wasn't a merchant. He needed to maximize his gains to participate in the auction, of course, but there was a limit to how much time he could spend on this effort.

"Alright, let's head over and see what they're willing to buy," he said, and his companion shifted slightly northward, aiming toward the source of the loudest noise.