Occultist 288

Multiple options emerged in Nick’s mind after understanding the ritual’s purpose. He was fairly confident in his preparations to beat the man, but it would be risky, and that was only if he was a pure mage. Considering the complex ritual he had arranged, it didn’t seem like he was.

That is, assuming he’s the one who set everything up. His mana levels are higher than mine, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s the caster.

If he ran, he could probably make it back to the surface. It would mean leaving Anthony to a cruel fate, but they weren’t truly friends, and Nick had only intended to save him as a side note. Discovering the truth behind the increasingly complex plot he was involved in was far more important.

“What would that prove?” he asked, gesturing toward the restrained teenager. The man seemed oddly eager to maintain appearances, and he would exploit that as long as the facade lasted. Especially because he was becoming more certain it wasn’t just an emotional mask he wore, but a physical one as well.

I suppose it makes sense. After all, this is probably Changer—a master of deception so clever that he convinced everyone, including me, that he achieved Prestige, even though he's only level ninety at best.

That realization, instead of making his life simpler, only made everything more complicated, because now he knew that everything the man said would be a carefully crafted mix of lies and truth, capable of twisting anyone’s mind.

Getting answers from him is going to be a pain, but I need to find out how a person who should be, by all rights, a thief, ended up becoming a skilled ritualist.

“Why, your dedication, of course. To gain something, you must sacrifice something first. That is the underlying principle of all true magics, and something I’m sure you are well acquainted with.” The answer was delivered with the same patient smile, as if he were discussing the weather, rather than human sacrifice. “Your latest forays into the deeper magics should have taught you that much.”

Nick stiffened. As far as he knew, only Tholm, Lasazar, and he were aware of his demon summoning sessions, but clearly, that was not the case.

Is there a leak in the Tower’s systems? I remember Lasazar had to get permission to enter the summoning chamber, so it’s possible that person talked, but how would they know what it is that we were summoning?

For a moment, he considered feigning ignorance, but a glance at the other’s face told him it wouldn’t work. Changer was certain of his information, which meant he either had infiltrated the Tower so deeply that he had access to the wards—something he sincerely doubted was possible without the Tower Master or the Vice Tower Master’s approval, which they would never grant to a non-mage—or he had learned of it from someone with direct involvement with him.

“Was it Tholm? Or Lasazar?” Nick pressed. He was surprised to find he felt no resentment toward either man for what was a pretty clear breach of his trust, but he would have to adjust his behavior depending on who the leak was.

“Ah, that is the question, isn’t it? Was it the sage, who schemed behind your back, or the maverick, whose true intentions couldn't be divined?” Changer chuckled, for once showing a hint of the genuine amusement he felt.

This, it seemed, was what he lived for: twisting facts so much that they couldn’t be distinguished from a lie, making people doubt their greatest allies, and even convincing them that he, the greatest liar, was the only source of truth.

It was a subtle method, one that few people could defend against, and Nick only recognized it because his high CHA stat gave him enough leeway to parse through the man’s emotions.

Just [Empyrean Intuition] alone wouldn’t have been enough, no matter how good it was at sensing such things. He would have recognized the man was pretending, but still would have been fooled by his hypnotic ways without his own CHA to support him.

“You can have the truth, Nicholas Crowley. You just need to take it. It is right here, in front of you, ripe and ready, and believe me, it tastes oh so good,” Changer pressed, and Nick felt his anticipation grow. He believed he was almost there, needing only a little push to go over the edge.

If Nick had truly been the teenage genius he portrayed himself as, he probably would have fallen for it. Power and success in someone so young bred arrogance, regardless of their upbringing, and he had made it clear to everyone that his thirst for knowledge was second to none.

He really crafted this approach well. He tailored everything to my tastes, from the little scavenger hunt I went on to the tangle of plots I only glimpsed. It’s enough to drive anyone mad with the need to know, especially someone like me.

Frankly, it was a bit too good. Good enough that he began suspecting Changer wasn’t actually a thief at all, nor was he a mage of any kind, but rather someone whose class was entirely focused on this kind of psychological manipulation.

It would make far too much sense and suggest he had been playing on an uneven field from the beginning. Hell, it was even possible that his discovery of the plot had been part of the man’s plans from the very start!

But how could he have known? I used the [Ring of Unknowingness] exactly to avoid this kind of notice!

That, admittedly, was a snag he had no answer for, but everything else fit a little too perfectly for it to be just a series of coincidences.

Of course, that also overlooked the ritual he was currently facing. If Changer was truly a social manipulation class, he couldn’t have been the one to create it, which meant there had to be someone else he was unaware of.

“I see your mind racing, Nicholas. It's impressive that you have enough clues to piece some of it together, but there's no need to trap yourself in a loop. You were intentionally kept in the dark, away from even hints of the truth that could have given you clues about what was really happening. Just complete the ritual, and you'll know everything.”

The eagerness in his voice was almost tangible, and Nick could tell Changer was sure he had him. And that wasn’t far from the truth. Nick could admit that his curiosity was gnawing at him, and he would normally be willing to sacrifice much more than an acquaintance to gain such valuable answers.

But Changer and anyone else helping him had misjudged one thing. Nick’s curiosity was strong enough to push him into the depths of hell, but another force defined him even more than that.

His stubbornness and resistance to being blatantly manipulated were far greater than any other trait he possessed. It had crystallized into [Blasphemy] during his Class Ceremony, and even now, it remained his defining characteristic.

It wasn’t something he was usually proud of, but at this moment, when it helped him stand above the muddled circumstances and hold his ground instead of being swayed by honeyed words and personal matters, he couldn’t help but think it was what made him truly stand out above everyone else, more than being reincarnated.

A chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop it, and he saw Changer’s expression freeze for the briefest moment before relaxing back into the inviting, open one he’d been wearing.

Truly, he was one scary motherfucker. Who knew how much damage such a person could cause in a world where leaders didn’t have the benefit of noble classes protecting them from most social manipulations?

He’d probably be crowned king in a week.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he sighed and took a step toward the ritual.

Changer merely inclined his head, as if acknowledging his decision rather than forcing it on him, but Nick paid him no mind. Now that he had taken a decision, he had no more doubts.

Anthony’s terrified eyes met his as tears streamed down his face. It would have made him hesitate if he wasn’t doing this to save him, so he shot the ranger a quick wink and said, “It’s going to end soon, you’ll see.”

His dagger then appeared in his hand, drawing a startled sound from Changer and a whimper from Anthony, but Nick kept moving forward, passing through the runic circle with barely a pulse of mana from the soles of his feet, until he stood just beside the stone slab.

He knew what it looked like. A wickedly sharp, midnight black blade that seemed crafted specifically for human sacrifice, and it only heightened the feeling of victory Changer was experiencing.

Nick lifted it with both hands, tilting his head just enough to avoid eye contact with Anthony, while the poor teenager thrashed in his bonds, unable to do more than hurt himself even more.

Then, Nick drove the dagger down.

A moment of silence passed as all three waited to see what would happen, only for the realization of what had just transpired to hit the other two.

The Remnant of Akas lurking within the blade, which had gone weeks without a proper meal, didn’t hesitate after being slammed into the runic circle and began feeding on the ritual with pure giddiness.

At the same time, Nick channeled [Vitality Drain] through it, greatly increasing its draw and allowing it to penetrate the overall structure through the tiny crack he’d caused with [Structural Weakness] upon passing through, turning what could have been a deadly explosion into a simple runic collapse, which caused arcs of pure mana to suddenly burst off the sacrificial table, slamming into every surface around them.

“What have you done?" Changer howled, his face twisting into a hateful sneer as a short sword appeared in his hands from a spatial ring of his own. “Idiot child, you would have been given so much, and you’ve ruined it!”

Nick didn’t bother bantering with the man anymore. He doubted he’d get anything else out of him now that civility had collapsed anyway, so he wrenched the dagger back with only a whimper of hunger from it, and turned to face his opponent with it in his hands.

“Don’t worry, boy, I’ll feed you something better,” he muttered, and the dagger thrummed happily.

There was no need to hide his power here. Anthony was out because the runic backlash quickly overwhelmed his body’s ability to process mana and knocked him unconscious, and Changer would die here.

Switching targets for [Vitality Drain] was the work of a moment, and he saw the realization dawn on Changer’s face as the pull started.

“YOU! What are you?!” he howled, lunging forward with deadly intent.

[Crest of the Thunderbird] sprang around Nick, and Changer’s blade was knocked aside, though he was spared a swift, electrifying death by the skill he had wrapped around it.

“I am your worst nightmare,” Nick replied, now sporting a full-blown grin. He so loved cheesy lines like that, especially when they helped put his enemies on the back foot.

Changer’s face started crumpling, fading into a deathly pallor, then dust, as a second face appeared once the first man's appearance completely vanished.

Nick also felt [Vitality Drain] cut off, which made him suspect the face he’d been wearing was more than just a disguise. It was probably an artifact designed to withstand at least one deadly blow by sacrificing the small amount of life-force inside it. [Vitality Drain] had disrupted it, sucking all its power out before it could be used.

“You are dead,” the new Changer whispered, face fully covered with tattoos that began glowing an ominous red.