Low-Fantasy Occultist Isekai

It wasn't just the stillness that screamed at Nick's senses, nor the silence of nature that unsettled him; it was the complete absence beyond the clearing's limits. It felt as if he had stepped into a dead zone, a pocket of the world beyond which his sensory spell simply ceased to exist.

Nick's eyes widened. "Stop! We're in a trap!"

The men around him faltered. Some paused mid-step, others turned to look at him in confusion. To them, he realized with dread, nothing seemed amiss.

Morris, however, reacted instantly.

A younger soldier hesitated near the edge of the clearing, seemingly about to take a step back. Morris grabbed him by the back of his cloak and yanked him forward with more force than necessary.

"Stay in formation, idiot." He growled. The young man swallowed hard and nodded.

That was all it took. The rest of the strike group, seeing Morris' reaction, snapped back to reality, and began scanning the surroundings for an enemy they could not yet see.

But no one came. The trees stood still. The shadows did not shift.

Nick inhaled and exhaled. The last time the fae attacked, they had sent wave after wave of monsters at them. This time, however, it was too quiet. No stumbling golem was approaching them, and no army of goblins was hollering in bloodthirst.

That made him uneasy. He narrowed his focus, straining his magical senses in a new way. If the wind was gone, then he would look elsewhere. Instead of scanning the air, he turned his focus downward.

It was difficult.

Unlike the sky, where currents shifted and moved in predictable patterns, the earth was dense, layered with hidden pockets of stone and roots that made sensing through it much harder. Mere molecules of air were insufficient for him to form a clear picture, which compelled him to push more to extract information from the tiniest pockets.

Experience exclusive tales on My Virtual Library Empire

But Nick was patient. He wove his focus through the soil, stretching his magic through the tiniest spaces, feeling for anything unnatural—

There.

His pulse spiked. "They're underground!"

The moment the words left his mouth, the earth cracked open.

Dirt crumbled, roots twisted apart, and something emerged from the depths, but it was neither a wave of monsters nor a beast of rage and destruction. His fear of having entered a Moss Oni's territory was unfounded, yet Nick couldn't suppress the groan that escaped his lips when he saw what it was.

Slender and elegant, she moved with the fluidity of silk in the breeze. Her dress, woven from pale petals and shimmering moonlight, remained spotless despite her emergence from the ground.

Her hair flowed in waves, pale as silver mist. Her skin was as luminous as polished marble, her features delicate but inhumanly perfect.

And her eyes… Nick felt his stomach drop.

Their eyes weren't like the trickster eyes of the other fae he'd met. They didn't glimmer with the mockery of something toying with lesser beings.

Instead, they were ancient. Timeless, and filled with amusement.

A hush fell over the strike group. No one moved, though not out of fear, but because most of them simply could not.

Some of the younger soldiers, and even a few of the more experienced adventurers, stood frozen, staring at the fae as though they had been struck dumb.

Their expressions were not vacant, but enthralled. Like men standing before the sun, blinded not by its radiance, but by beauty.

Nick barely refrained from cursing out loud.

The System hadn't warned him of a mental attack. That meant this wasn't magic, unless she was capable of targeting several people in a crowd with pinpoint accuracy—which would make her a Prestige Class, and thus beyond anything they could face. If that were the case, nothing he could do would save them, so he had to operate as if she weren't.

It was her charisma, he realized. Before he could share this insight, she moved. She dipped into a graceful bow, her arms flowing like a dancer in an unseen waltz.

"How lovely," she murmured, her voice as soft as falling snow. "Such devotion to your charming little town." She smiled, the kind of smile that promised nothing yet offered everything.

"I must apologize for the commotion earlier. I hadn't expected such esteemed guests to walk into my territory. I thought it was customary for humans to receive an invitation before showing up." Her tone was light and teasing, as if they had mistakenly wandered into a private garden.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

It was clear that this felt like a game to her. Eugene, on the other hand, had no patience for it. "Drop the act," he growled.

The fae tilted her head, lips curving in amusement. "Oh?"

Eugene's sword blazed with fire, as he took on a stance, ready to rush at her at the slightest wrong move. "Release my men's minds if you want to talk." Ah, so he noticed.

She laughed, not in a mocking or cruel way, but out of genuine amusement. That, more than anything, told Nick she felt completely safe, which sent alarm bells ringing in his mind.

"Oh, my dear Captain," she purred, "I cannot be blamed if your men falter before the sight of true beauty. You humans are so… delicate in that way."

Nick's stomach twisted as none of the affected men reacted. Even mockery wasn't enough to wake them up.

By this point, he was certain that if she wished, she could hold them in that state forever. Such was her beauty that even he could feel a pull towards her. His distrust was overwhelming, yet he couldn't deny she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

Eugene took a step forward, flaring his flames threateningly. "Then perhaps I should burn your beauty away. That should wake them up."

The fae's smile didn't waver. If anything, it broadened, and for the first time, Nick saw a hint of danger behind it.

"How bold," she murmured. And then she straightened, folding her hands in front of her as though she had all the time in the world. "Very well, let's negotiate. For the sake of this conversation, you might call me Dewdrop."

That is not her name, obviously. Fae names are something they hold very dear, and she wouldn't be so stupid as to give it away. Also, Dewdrop is a stupid name.

"You know who I am," Eugene replied, not falling for the bait. At the same time, Nick felt several people take breaths to reply, and flicked his wand, shutting their mouths with a muzzle of wind. Luckily, no one was so far gone as to fight him.

Dewdrop spared him an amused glance, evidently having noticed his intervention. Again, she didn't do anything about it, despite him having foiled the second attempt at tricking them.

Eugene gave him a short nod before turning back to the fae. "I am not some wandering fool you can string along with half-truths and pretty words, fae. You will not fool us so easily."

Dewdrop tilted her head, silver hair cascading like liquid light. Her expression never wavered from its elegant amusement, but Nick caught the faintest flicker of… something. A moment later, she was smiling once more. "'Tis good to see that the Warden knows of our customs. I was afraid your short human lives would have made you forget."

Nick had learned the history of his ancestor, the one who had led the resettlement of Floria and, in the process, had cut down countless fae who resisted. It seemed they had not forgotten it either.

Eugene inclined his head at the name. "If you know what I am, then you know how little patience I have for your games."

Dewdrop sighed dramatically, raising a delicate hand. "So harsh. So crude." She let her fingers trail through the air as if drawing unseen threads. "But I suppose it is fitting. The Warden of Floria has never been courteous to my kind."

Eugene's eyes burned like embers. "You give us no reason to be."

Dewdrop laughed, a sound like wind chimes. "Fair."

Nick mutely watched the verbal duel unfold. Eugene was good at this. He wasn't a scholar or a politician, but he was a fighter, and he knew how to read his opponents. However, the fae were not ordinary enemies.

Dewdrop hadn't made her move yet, and that worried Nick.

"Very well," she said lightly. "I will be gracious and offer your freedom back. That should set you at ease." Despite the fae not moving, it felt like she had taken a step back. That, apparently, was enough, as the men who'd fallen in a daze shook themselves awake.

I didn't feel any magic I know, but that doesn't mean much. The fae obviously have a different method of casting, or I would have noticed the trap before we fell into it.

Eugene nodded to acknowledge her graciousness, and before anyone else could react, he barked, "No one speaks but me. Not a word."

Then, he turned slightly, looking at Nick. "Keep it that way."

Nick was already doing so, but he tilted his head to show that he understood. With a subtle shift in the air, he ensured that only his father's voice could reach the fae. No one else would be able to speak, whether they wanted to or not.

Instead of commenting, Dewdrop didn't take her attention away from Eugene. "Well then, Warden, shall we speak of why you are here? Our kind has kept our distance from your settlement. It is only when humans walked into the forest that we met."

"Do you think I'll believe that? You are the ones who sent the stampede our way." Eugene replied with a curled lip.

"But how could it be us, when it came from the south, and it is known to all that we reside in the north?" Nick noticed that she didn't deny his accusation. Instead, she simply deflected.

"You grow a dungeon so close to our land and then wonder why we have to take action? I thought fae were supposed to be masters of strategy. It seems I have to explain even the basics."

That last jab would have infuriated the last fae they met, but Dewdrop let it wash over her, as if she had no ego to wound.

Nick watched her reactions closely, trying to decipher the real danger. Something was off. She wasn't winning, as every attempt to coax a mistake from Eugene failed, and yet, she didn't seem worried.

If he had to name the emotion he observed, it appeared she was content. Shouldn't she be pressing harder if she was genuinely trying to entrap them in some vague bargain?

Something else is going on.

Nick abandoned his attempts to decipher her plots and focused on everything else. He scoured the surroundings for any clue. What little air was in the space he could sense didn't tell him anything he didn't already know, but he continued, using the data flow as a meditation aid.

There has to be something…

When he couldn't find a solution using everything he'd observed so far, he went back to the drawing board, working through memories of the old myths.

That was when the solution finally appeared. Fae traps. It has to be.

They were stationary wards that ensnared men without them ever realizing it, which explained why Dewdrop wasn't in a hurry. This wasn't a battle, nor was it an attempt to delay. This was a predator playing with its meal once they caught it. We are in a pocket dimension.

That meant they weren't in the material world anymore.

But we can't be completely gone, either. I would have felt it. This can't be a full-plane shift.

That meant there was a way out, but only if they acted fast.

The Scandinavian school of spiritual magic employed techniques to anchor reality and compel a return to the material world. The key was stabilizing their existence back onto the physical plane. They used this method as protection against spirits, and Nick was fairly certain it would work here as well. If berserkers could ignore the wounds of a Valkyrie while properly anchored, they should be able to return to the forest.

Nick let the wind carry a whisper to his father. "It's a fae trap. We're in a pocket dimension. I need some time."

Eugene did not react or even blink. He simply continued his back-and-forth with Dewdrop, but Nick knew his father understood and would keep the fae entertained until he figured out a solution.

Slowly, he began directing the others, focusing on those he knew weren't susceptible to Dewdrop's charisma. Morris. The two scouts. The priests.

He sent the faintest whispers through the wind, just enough for them to react without looking surprised. Then, one by one, he instructed them on how to position their limbs to form a rough, inverted Raidho. Thankfully, they followed his orders.

And when he was certain they were in place, Nick began to inscribe the same rune into the soil with his mind alone. Dewdrop had noticed his earlier usage of his wand, which meant he had to be even subtler.

I need to complete the anchors before I can stabilize us.

This was dangerous, as Nick wasn't supposed to know this kind of magic, but no one here was a scholar of dimensional physics. He could only hope that no one would recognize what he was doing.