Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

The swirling storm surrounding the wyvern grew darker, howling ferociously. The entire battlefield seemed to hold its breath as the monstrous creature loomed above, the sheer scale of its power rendering the defenders below helpless spectators. Even Eugene, who stood tall amidst the chaos, flames licking his armor and sword, looked impossibly small against the fury about to descend from the heavens.

Deep within their lizard brain, everyone understood that this creature was beyond them.

Nick grabbed onto that despair and ruthlessly quashed it. Now wasn't the time to give up. Luckily, it seemed he wasn't the only one to shake off the feeling, though the fact that he had been affected in the first place just went to show that the [Ritual of Unveiling] had significant downsides.

His father burned brighter than he had all night, and the fire around him fed on the churning winds, causing the stone beneath his feet to bubble and crack. The heat was so intense that even from the astral plane, Nick could feel it pressing against him. It was a spectacle of raw power, the materialization of Eugene's will to protect his people at any cost.

But Nick could see the truth. His father's flame, as fierce as it was, wasn't enough. The wyvern's gathering mana dwarfed it by an order of magnitude.

Thanks to his affinity, Nick understood precisely what was about to hit them: a concentration of elemental force that could raze most of Floria's western blocks in a single breath. The gap between them was too vast. Even if Eugene reached the wyvern, the gale surrounding it would toss him aside like a leaf in a storm.

Nick clenched his immaterial fists. No. I won't let this happen. I just got a family; I'm not ready to let it go. Even if they might hate me for what I'm about to do.

His father was clearly preparing to jump into the storm, gathering the power needed to close the distance, intending to sacrifice himself to give the defenders more time. Nick's heart swelled with pride—and fury. He wouldn't stand by and watch Eugene die. Not when there was still something he could do.

I have to stop him. He dragged the last dwindling traces of mana to the surface. Every ounce of his will strained to gather enough for one final [Wind Burst]. Only through his increased understanding of the element and [Parsimonia] was this possible, and Nick gave himself a thirty percent chance of simply being snapped back into his body because of the effort.

His plan was simple: push Eugene off course before he could make his suicidal charge. The cost would be steep—hundreds of lives lost to the wyvern's wrath—but Nick couldn't bear the thought of losing his father. It was selfish, greedy, and petty. He didn't care.

Eugene was tough enough to survive the breath. Some of the stronger adventurers were, too. Once the monster was spent, they could mount a more successful attack.

The wyvern roared as it completed the spell, deafening in its triumph. The gale around it intensified, and the mana at its core solidified into a blinding orb, a hurricane compressed into a single sphere. For a fleeting moment, Nick admired the incredible connection to the element required to achieve such a feat. He certainly couldn't replicate it, even with time and rituals, but merely observing had sparked some ideas in him. The beast reared back, opening its maw to unleash death.

Nick's spell was nearly ready. He gritted his teeth, forcing the dangerously thin mana into a cohesive pattern—ironically helped by the terrifying display of elemental control above him, which made visualization much easier— even as his mind unhelpfully informed him that after this, he'd have just enough power to maintain his astral form, and not for long.

As he prepared to release it, a searing light tore through the night sky.

A lightning bolt, brighter and more brilliant than any Nick had ever seen, struck the wyvern with the force of an enraged god. The air exploded with the sound of shattering stones and the shriek of a ruptured spell. Even as a projection, Nick was forced to shield his eyes as the lightning illuminated the battlefield, turning night into day for a brief moment.

The wyvern's roar turned into a scream of agony. Its coalesced mana scattered violently, flattening everyone, human and monster alike, to the ground in a downburst—but limiting the damage to bruises and broken bones to those who fell from the wall. Its massive body crashed into the earth with a sound like a bomb going off. The winds raged for a few seconds before they faded, leaving only silence in their wake.

Nick's grasp on his spell had faltered entirely. He blinked, adjusting his vision as the battlefield returned to its dim state. Once he was sure he wasn't about to vanish, he turned, seeking the source of the lighting.

There, stepping through a shattered portion of the wall, was Arthur.

The old man radiated power. He walked through the devastation without sparing a glance at the fallen men until he stopped next to Eugene, keeping his longsword pointed at the beast. It was made of an obsidian-like material and crackled with electricity, with faint arcs of lightning dancing along its surface. Arthur's face was set in a cold mask, his eyes never wavering from the downed wyvern as though he dared it to rise again.

"You're late," Eugene growled, though there was a flicker of relief in his voice. Most of his flames had been extinguished by the release of the wyvern's attack, but some remained, concentrated on his sword. It was a remarkably similar technique to Arthur's, though evidently lesser.

"Had to make an entrance," came the reply, not sounding like someone who had been out of commission a mere half an hour earlier. "But I see you still need me to handle your messes, kid."

Once the defenders picked themselves up, they erupted into cheers. It had all happened so quickly that many were still stunned by the sheer might the wyvern had displayed, but they recovered remarkably. Nick, on the other hand, couldn't relax. He didn't know what Arthur's reserves were like, but he doubted he was ready to engage in a long battle. Whatever strength the older man had left, it wasn't infinite.

Arthur's gaze flicked to the men on the walls. "Hold your fire," he commanded. "Let it come to me while you handle the lesser beasts."

Eugene glanced at him but sighed in agreement. There wasn't much any of them could do to damage it. Not before it retaliated. "You always were dramatic."

The wyvern roared defiantly, reminding them it wasn't finished yet. It pushed itself upright, struggling to lift its battered form with clawed wings. Nick could see the raw fury in its glowing eyes—the refusal to submit even in the face of such overwhelming power. Its snout was cracked and bleeding, with Lichtenberg figures running along its length.

Eugene instinctively raised his sword, augmenting the flames, but he stepped back after a moment, allowing Arthur to take the lead. The old man nodded in thanks and moved forward.

Nick felt his exhaustion weighing down on him, but he stayed put. He wasn't done yet.

The wyvern shrieked, sending a shockwave through the battlefield as it abruptly took to the skies. Arthur met its ascent with a jagged bolt of lightning, illuminating the heavens in flashes of white. His aim was true, but the wyvern twisted in mid-air with impossible grace, allowing the attack to scrape along its thick scales instead of piercing through. Nick could feel it manipulating the winds to provide additional lift when it should have none and was impressed despite himself.

Their duel was breathtaking. Arthur began to float as his armor glowed with pulsing veins of electricity. Each swing of his blade cracked the night with thunderous roars. Although injured, the wyvern countered with deadly precision, conjuring gale-force winds that churned the already devastated battlefield, forcing the men to take cover.

Nevertheless, they persevered, seizing every opportunity to eliminate the dazed monsters.

Nick hovered nearby, caught between awe and fear. The mana fluctuations struck him like physical blows, forcing him to retreat farther than he wished. His form flickered as he instinctively clutched his chest, even though he had no heart here to protect. He wasn't fully in the astral plane, nor completely tied to the material, but in this liminal state, the rules of both worlds could still harm him with sufficient power.

If I take too much of this, I'll lose more than my hold on this place, he realized grimly. But I can't leave. Not now.

He resisted his instincts, retreating just far enough to avoid being shredded. His perspective shifted, giving him a vantage point of the battlefield, where the fight began to rage again despite the titanic duel above them.

The defenders relentlessly picked off the remaining monsters by exploiting their greater protection. Traps snapped shut, spears flew, and battle cries echoed as the adventurers rallied around their captain's blazing presence. A few spells were cast, though they felt like child's play compared to what was above them. Still, it all bought precious seconds against the unyielding tide of claws and teeth.

Arthur stopped hovering in place and went on the offensive, becoming a silver and white streak against the black sky. He was too fast for Nick to follow, but he could see the crackling arcs spreading outward as he slammed into the wyvern. The beast roared in fury, retaliating with a swipe of its claws that sent Arthur hurtling backward.

Even in retreat, Arthur twisted mid-air, summoning another bolt of lightning. The wyvern rolled in response, folding its wings tight as it dove. It skimmed the ground at breakneck speed, the winds in its wake scattering monsters and defenders alike. Then, with a powerful beat of its wings, it shot back upward, narrowly avoiding the explosive crack of lightning where it had just been, which obliterated a remarkably resilient group of insectoid beasts.

Nick marveled at their speed. Even though both were not at their best, the fight was breathtakingly fast. Every dive, every roll, every conjured hurricane and lightning aimed to gain the upper hand.

Though the fight seemed to stall for a bit, Arthur's blade burned brighter with each strike. His steps, even on empty air, left trails of electrical energy that lingered even after he moved, increasing the availability of his element. He was orchestrating a storm, shaping the battlefield to his will.

Still, the wyvern endured, patiently biding its time and using its superior mobility to evade direct confrontation. Its winds grew stronger, but it was unable to unleash them upon Floria, for doing so would divert its attention from Arthur, leading to its demise.

The edges of the gales were still strong enough to tear through the ranks of defenders, impeding their efforts. Yet, whenever someone was on the brink of death at the hands of the advancing monsters, a wave of searing flames would rescue them.

The wyvern attempted to find an opening, feigning another dive to sweep the defenders, then turning mid-maneuver to unleash the gathered winds on Arthur. He thrust his sword forward, and at his command, all the leftover electricity surged through the wind, striking the wyvern's eye. The beast howled, its flight faltering as blood sprayed from the reopened wound.

Nick could see the wyvern's strength waning as its control over the air became ragged and uneven. Arthur pressed his advantage, losing altitude with a resounding crack of thunder before leaping skyward once more. His final attack was an upward strike charged with so much mana that it seemed to split the sky apart.

The wyvern attempted to dodge, but its injury slowed it just enough. Arthur found his mark, cleaving into the creature's chest. The wyvern let out one final scream, convulsing in the air as the lightning coursed through its body, then collapsed, crashing in a smoldering heap.

The battlefield went still. For a moment, no one moved.

Then, a roar erupted from the defenders. The few remaining monsters scattered in all directions, instinctively understanding that only death awaited them, only to be cut down by the jubilant adventurers.

The wave was broken.

As the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, painting the battlefield in hues of orange and gold, Nick let out a shaky breath. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but he didn't retreat. Not yet.

Beneath him, Eugene was joined by Arthur. The two men exchanged nods before they turned to rally their troops for the final drive.

Nick allowed himself a moment to feel proud. His father and Arthur had achieved the impossible and emerged victorious. They had saved the town and everyone in it.

And maybe, he thought, his gaze lingering on the rising sun, I helped a little too.