Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

The cat padded toward him, twitching its nose in curiosity. It blinked once and then mewled softly, its eyes seeming to reflect countless tiny sparks of light.

Nick knelt, breathing deeply as he adjusted to being cut off from the Astral Plane once more. "Hey there," he murmured, half-laughing at how bizarre it felt to greet a spirit cat like a pet. But its ears perked, and it brushed against his leg as though seeking acknowledgment. Nick extended a hand, letting the creature sniff him.

A silent chime from the System flitted across Nick's consciousness, proclaiming the completion of the [Ritual of Familiar Summoning] and awarding him just enough Exp to raise his level once more.

It said nothing more, but Nick lifted his eyebrow in surprise. Had he inadvertently used necromancy? He knew teraphims to be household spirits, but often, they were described as being an amalgamation of the caster's ancestors. The cat exuded no hint of corruption, so he doubted it was the case, but why else would the system use that specific term?

Nick's mind spun with questions, but the teraphim abruptly butted its head against his kneecap again. He let out a half-smile. "You're not my grandpa come to haunt me, are you?" The cat gave a quiet trill, its chest rumbling with a gentle purr. Nick's shoulders relaxed. He sincerely doubted any hint of either of his grandfathers dwelled within the cat. They would have been caught dead before purring.

Well, there is an easy way to check. If the spirit has a past, it won't accept a new name. If it is new, as it should be, it will demand one.

He studied the fur's metallic sheen and the delicate lines of the cat's whiskers. Its eyes were overly large, almost starry, but it carried itself with the same aloof poise of any ordinary feline.

Noticing the cat's expectant stare, Nick asked, "Do you want me to name you? The magic will bind us once I do, and there won't be any going back. If you already have a name, it will fail, and we will both suffer."

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The cat rolled its eyes, looking almost exasperated. Nick chuckled, amused at the decidedly not animalistic behavior.

After a moment of thought, he patted the silvery creature. "Talbot," he whispered. "I'll call you Talbot, after my grandfather's friend. He was a skilled spirit summoner, and you… well, you're part of that tradition now."

Talbot blinked, meowing in approval. Although no discernible words formed, Nick felt its acceptance.

An almost audible click settled in his bones, and he knew instinctively that House Crowley had a new guardian.

You have bound a Teraphim familiar to your household: You have earned 22.222 Exp

Nick rose slowly with a tired grin. The circle's glow faded away, and the candle flames returned to their natural flicker. On the floor, the salty boundary remained intact, with the chalk lines only slightly scuffed. Talbot stepped across it effortlessly, proving once and for all that it was not a malicious spirit. Nick watched the cat with amusement as it explored the room, rubbing its side against the desk and bed.

After a while, he returned the vial of leftover blood to its hidden spot. Perhaps he might need it again—for wards or more advanced spells. But for now, he had accomplished a significant achievement—there would be no more nightly attacks. As long as Talbot was welcome, it would protect the house against any spiritual enemy. Taking a moment to extinguish the candles, Nick observed as Talbot jumped onto his bed, curling up with a satisfied, if tired, sigh.

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"I guess it's been eventful for you too, huh?"

Nick awoke feeling strangely refreshed. The morning light filtering through his shutters was softer than he remembered, and for a moment, he allowed himself the unusual luxury of just lying there, savoring the peace. Normally, he'd be up at dawn, busy with training or rehearsing spells, but no one had come knocking to drag him out of bed.

There are advantages to being under attack. Everyone is too preoccupied to bother me this early.

He shifted, intending to roll onto his side, when something furry pawed at his shoulder. Surprised, he blinked and turned toward the little silver-blue cat sitting at the edge of his pillow. Its wide, luminescent eyes peered at him with a silent demand. Nick snorted. "You know you don't actually need food, right?" he muttered, still half asleep. "You're a spiritual cat, not a barn mouser."

Talbot responded with a loud meow of protest. Then it continued to pat his arm like a cat that knew how to annoy its owner into compliance. Nick let out an amused sigh. "Alright, fine. I'll find you something," he relented, tossing aside the blankets. He recalled, with a twinge of concern, that he had planned to keep whatever he'd end up summoning hidden for a few days until he could create a decent cover story. But it seemed Talbot didn't care much for secrecy.

Yawning, Nick slid out of bed. Talbot bounded off the mattress, nimbly slipping past him and out the door. There was no point in trying to reel it back—like any cat, it moved on its own terms. Nick could almost feel the spirit's mild glee at being able to roam freely. Grumbling to himself, he tossed on a shirt and followed it downstairs.

His parents already occupied the kitchen. Elena sat at the table with a cup of herbal tea while Eugene stood by the window with his arms crossed, looking tired. Both turned at the sound of Nick's footsteps. Immediately, Elena's eyes settled on Talbot, who jumped onto his seat and plopped down.

"What. Is. That."

Nick rubbed the back of his neck. The curious silver-blue cat padded over and sniffed at the plate of bacon. "Oh… yeah, about that," he started. "I might have picked up a familiar."

Elena let out a small, surprised breath. "I thought that was more of a Witch thing?"

"Mages get them sometimes. I made sure it's not dangerous before taking it in." Nick explained, forcing a smile. "It showed up on its own. Silly color, sure, but I think it's harmless to us. Talbot's actually magically sensitive, so he'll be useful to sniff out any more Wraiths."

"Your teenage rebellion could have been worse," Eugene muttered, rubbing his eyes. He looked up, noticing Talbot creeping near the table. "If you say it's ok to keep around, then I have no issues with it. Anything that helps us stay safer is a good thing."

Elena raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for more. But before Nick could continue, Eugene threw a piece of bacon at the cat. "You cause any trouble, kitten," he teased gently, "and we'll give you to a beastmen family. They don't have any of humanity's softness." The cat jumped, catching the bacon in midair before trotting off behind a chair to eat it.

Nick smiled. His father was showing him trust again. And while, in the grand scheme of things, having a familiar as a mage wasn't that strange, he appreciated not having to answer too many questions. "I made sure it's safe." He repeated.

Eugene nodded, apparently satisfied. "Good enough."

Elena pursed her lips, clearly unconvinced, but eventually, she dropped it. "Well," she said slowly, "we can keep it around if you're sure it won't cause trouble. A little more warmth in this house could do us some good, and I've been meaning to get something to handle the rats for the coming season."

Nick exhaled, relieved not to have to craft any more lies. "Yeah. Talbot should be able to handle that, no problem."

Elena sipped her tea. "Then come eat. We need to talk."

Nick moved around the table, taking a seat. On the corner was half a loaf of bread, some eggs, and more bacon, a good portion of which vanished into Talbot's maw. He quickly served himself a bit as Eugene paced behind them.

"Arthur's back," Elena said, setting her cup down. "He only arrived late last night, but there's talk he's discovered something about the dungeon."

Nick perked up. "So that means…?"

Eugene turned and leaned on the windowsill. "It means we have to form an expedition. The best strategy is to strike before they can rally more monsters or create another wave. The temple's damage is minor, but the consequences could be catastrophic if we allow them to grow bolder, and the people are already nervous enough as it is."

Nick swallowed, grimacing. "Are you sure we can take the fae? The one we faced the other day was already strong enough, and from what I understand, it wasn't the most powerful of the bunch."

His father shrugged. "We can't just sit around and do nothing. I'd like to hire some high-level adventurers, sure, but the time doesn't allow for it."

Nick nodded slowly, slicing a piece of bread. "I get that. But how am I…?"

Eugene paused to glance at him. "I'd like you to come too."

Elena's posture stiffened, and she placed a hand over Nick's. "Excuse me?"

Eugene cleared his throat softly. "Both Nick and Devon are old enough to help protect Floria. You know that. Devon will stay behind to assist you with the watch since he will leave soon. However, Nick's sensory spells are far more valuable on the field. There's no one else with quite that range or precision. Even the Scouts we have focus more on gathering information with their physical senses, which isn't very effective against the fae."

Elena pursed her lips, her voice cold. "You do realize how dangerous a dungeon crawl is, especially if the Court is expected to fight back?"

Nick awkwardly pulled his hand away, feeling a faint flush creep onto his cheeks. It was both comforting and embarrassing that his mother wanted to protect him. She was probably right about the danger, yet a part of him thrilled at the idea. He was strong enough for this, wasn't he?

Eugene's reply came with a cautious nod. "He's no helpless child, Elena. We fought a Courtly fae together. He's scouted along the wall for days and already participated in a fight under Darien. His spells alone might save half a dozen lives if we detect threats in time."

Tucked under the table, Nick felt Talbot's silver tail brush against his foot, as if trying to reassure him. One part of him wanted to shout that he was ready, that he could do more than just guard the wall. Another part knew that doing so would show he wasn't ready, and so he remained silent.

Elena's features lost their combativeness, but she still didn't look completely convinced. "You know that if you go through with this, Nick will be right in the middle of it. I don't believe for a second that he'll hold back or shy away from danger."

"He can take care of himself," Eugene said simply. Then, softer, "Look, if everything goes smoothly, we'll take out a few clusters of monsters and head back once we're sure the dungeon core is destroyed and the fae have lost their foothold. Arthur will be there to tackle the worst of the enemies, and they are unlikely to risk open war when they stand to lose so much against him. With you and the temple staff holding the fort, we can deliver a deathly blow before they can gather enough monsters to wash us in a tide."

Nick had heard enough, and as soon as his mother sighed in defeat, he asked, "When are we leaving?"

Eugene smirked. "Arthur is finalizing details and selecting volunteers, so if everything goes as planned, tomorrow. We also need to hold a general meeting to establish a strategy."

Elena shook her head resignedly, though she leaned in to tousle Nick's hair. "You're too eager sometimes, you know that?" she murmured, lips quirking in a half-smile. "You really take after your parents too much."

Nick smiled back. "I promise to be careful. And I'll have Dad." He pointed his chin at Eugene, who returned the grin wryly.

At that moment, Talbot jumped onto the table, swishing his tail as if demanding more bacon. Nick quickly scooped the cat into his arms to avoid a reprimand from his mother. The spirit cat mewled, unimpressed, but Nick just chuckled.

Yes, we just need to be careful...