SIM can reproduce knowledge in a fake world. Realistic, yes, but nevertheless fake. Sphinx greatly emphasized the latter.

“You, me, and everything else simply exists in this bubble-like specks of dust moving with a current. But we are here, and there, at the same time. It’s the very pinnacle of connecting the mind with the physical,” Sphinx relaxed under Nympha’s chokehold.

“But the copies can never be reproduced in the physical world unlike knowledge, which can be exchanged both ways. Nevertheless, I never expected Lark to be capable of achieving soul link so soon.”

“Soul link?” Nympha asked in a strange intonation. It was the first memory she had established since entering this world; words that appeared on a screen in front of her. She could feel her presence in a soul form, split from her physical body which was still left in Celestia, obviously similar to how she wandered through the Palace of Memories except not completely. Comparing this to then, her body was somehow renewed or reissued and she could not fully exert herself.

After connecting to Lark through their Familiarship, she realized Sphinx was not so easy to handle after all. From the beginning, she understood Lark’s guardian enabled them to enter the Palace of Memories. It was inconceivable at the time that there was another method of channeling without the user having enormous spiritual powers—yet it wasn’t.

“Master Nympha,” Sphinx drew on a smirk. “You should realize this place isn’t entirely what it seems. Energy forms, breaks, and retraces. That’s why until Lark can handle the amount of energy inside SIM, there are restrictions in place.”

So, there were restrictions placed on her. She let go of his throat and coldly spoke, “Anyone that can place restrictions inside a barrier is definitely somebody who's traveled to the Upperlands.”

Sphinx nodded. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose Pantheon has been called the Upperlands or Upperworld before.”

“Then you should know what happened to my goddess?” Nympha returned to her mouse form. “There’s been no contact with the Upperlands since the Centifire plagues.”

“I’m in the same boat as they say here on Earth—I’ll tell you what I remember though, which is not so different from what I already told Lark…” Sphinx recounted the time he was discovered by Lark’s father in the Sierra desert. “Lark doesn’t know the story before the apocalypse. You're the first I'll be telling it to, my true origin and purpose.”

Sphinx's eyes locked onto nowhere in particular as he talked, his focus trapped between the past and present. “I was locked inside the pyramid for the sole reason of saving the Immortals’ inheritance.”

“You mean all their cultivation techniques and skills were saved?” Upon hearing this, Nympha’s eyes ballooned as big and dramatic as a scared puffer-fish.

He shook his head, indicating her idea was wrong and waited for her to deflate before continuing.

“My one creator’s legacy was that he was known as the Librarian. Maybe you’ve figured out already, but one of SIM’s prized functions is scanning—a highly advanced appraisal skill—this skill was created out his thirst to create the universe’s largest library. He also designed a sandbox-like world, within it, he was capable of anything. I was the last to be created and shortly locked after since the real world was coming to an abrupt end. A lonely god, I’m sure he was.”

“To answer your question, I’m not sure of any other Immortals like your Goddess. I only know of my creator’s soul and will. He wasn’t the type to play with others.”

Sphinx hesitated before revealing another dark clue.

“One piece of the puzzle, I haven’t figured yet, is Lark’s Trinity Watch. Without a living accessory, there’d be no way for him to access SIM, which to me must mean… there’s an Immortal living on Earth. Maybe they'd know what has happened to Pantheon.”

While waiting on Nympha’s slow return, Lark had printed out numerous other items including Wangshi’s jian, the love tassel, Salene’s pair of short swords, Henry’s grimoire and staff, Rhea’s battle-axe and shield, Silvina’s broadsword, Dula’s battle quill, and Jaime’s wand. A small success really. He had really wanted to print Dula’s robe and Huan’s Quilin Fan, however, those options had failed. Also, he’d learned he couldn’t reproduce their skills such as Dula’s golemancer. COSMO simply interjected ‘no’ after three various wording attempts. There was also no way for him to summon other people’s pets (without their permission COSMO added).

He tried lifting Rhea’s shield. Upon realizing it was heavier than a pile of bricks, he let go of the idea of using it. The battle-axe never registered. Dula’s battle quill only worked as a pen. He couldn’t get it to work in the same way as Dula had done, writing in mid-air or summoning a golem with it.

“No golems,” COSMO repeated.

Similarly, Henry’s staff and Jaime’s wand didn’t react either after some more attempts to conjure magic. He must’ve pronounced the spells wrong or maybe there was a lack of rhyming. There was also the issue of him knowing zero magic as a prime factor.

Oblivious to COSMO’s sighing, Lark decided to not try using magic against the Cursed Human after realizing all the scripts in Henry’s grimoire were unreadable and untranslatable.

Next were the swords. At this age, Lark never once thought about becoming a swordsman, but in the depths of his heart, this was actually something he’d been waiting to try since his caretaker’s fight. Wangshi, Salene, and Silvina’s weapons were in pristine condition; durability maxed out and debris-free. Looking at the twin short swords, however, Lark felt a reluctance to use them. Salene almost lost her match due to her swords breaking on impact, clearly, the monster had overpowered their abilities. The jian was the only sword he had some prior experience with. It's lightweight, therefore easy to carry and swing, probably the easiest sword for him to use here.

If only this was a ‘the weapon chooses the master type kind of deal,’ he’d have a less difficult time picking. When he shifted his position towards the broadsword, something inside him told him to reach for it. He picked up the hilt, his heartbeat quickening the same way he would react to making a goal, and whilst admiring the rugged, black grip, the blade’s spine shivered. Or maybe, it was his spine shivering, because it made no such movement again after he swung it up and down. Unlike the other swords, which were straight and aligned with the hilt, the broadsword had a swelled tip similar in structure to a scimitar. Also, the longest sword out of the four and carried its weight more to one side, revealing its unbalanced design. Lark frowned, hinting a sign of disappointment with the sword’s craft.

He referred again to the item’s scan.
“Item: Broadsword (weapon)(magic)(uncommon)
+40 INT +30 MG
+25% Magic Attack, +Bonus Fire damage
Durability 70/70

Graded as a rank C magic weapon.

3 lbs.
Craft materials: silver ores, soulsteel, and red power crystals.
Crafted by Fergusdam
Obtained through blackmailing.
Gifted to Silvina Wheatley ‘forcefully.’”

The redhead’s got a real temper and personality to match. His ears overheated as he held down a chuckle. Then his neck tingled. Not in the good, ‘oh what a nice, passing breeze on a hot summer’s day,’ kind of sensation, but a prickly cactus kind of tingle climbing up his neck.

Using Gushi’s perception skill, he sensed changes happening all too fast within the Cursed Human’s body. Blood mist spread from its eyes and it's already engorged veins doubled in size. Instead of walking like a bi-pedal human, it crouched on all fours and slid across the concrete as if it were a spider on ice. No longer patrolling the cafeteria’s windows, it went down the pavement used for wheelchairs.

“I know. I know!” Lark whispered harshly to Gushi, who was beginning to pull his hair by the roots. He didn't know what had caused this sudden change or if it had seen them, but they retreated towards the library. Lark scooped up the remaining swords inside his spatial ring when the monster released a gurgling roar. All the hairs on his arms raised. It was in the air, blood mist and all, gaping with its eyes torn out of its sockets before landing again on its feet. The arms acted as its forelegs as it rolled on the ground like a beetle and hastened towards them.

A paralyzing fear bit at Lark’s ankle as he twisted to get back. It still slid, growing closer, and every bone in its body crunched in a way that told Lark, it was worse than snapped tendons.

Gushi let go his head and bounced up, prepared to attack, while Lark clenched the back of his teeth. “Here goes nothing.”

An instant nightmare. In a single bound, the Cursed Human had transversed over five feet, leaping into the air above them, carrying with it a mass of pulpy meat and hanging limbs. It was also in this moment, in which time seemed to have stopped for Lark as he watched it’s jumping motion move slower and slower until it paused mid-motion.

His heart thundered against his ribs. Looking into the pitch-black holes where its eyes should have been, Lark couldn’t help but remember the Sandworm’s throat squeezing against his body. The broadsword was at his side, hanging limply, little hope that the monster would just fall through the tip and die.

Huuuuu….

Although its mouth hadn’t moved, he heard it whisper. Garbled.

He should’ve taken this chance to cut it down. Take advantage of this weird glitch in this system which froze the monster in place. However, the hoarse whispering continued, this time loud and crisp: “You can hear…me.”

It wasn’t his imagination, but suddenly Sphinx’s fake smile had replaced the monster’s mouth and the sword had plunged through several folds into its neck. His breath caught up to his actions as a mix between a yell and gasp left him. Thirty-two minutes left, with a slime, in a world almost as good as reality, and he was stabbing the shit out of someone’s face.

Only, no sign of blood had sprayed out.

And again, it spoke to him, “You…have to slash with a curved sword…more effective,” as if giving him advice.

Wide-eyed, Lark could only gape back at the monster who didn’t move an inch after being stabbed. Gushi’s body also had stayed afloat.

What it said though wasn’t unreasonable, his thrust felt awkward and clumsy. He might’ve hurt his wrist. Without moving a muscle in his arm, he asked it, “What’s going on?”

“My name is…Vick,” the voice said and then he pleaded, “Kill me.”

The blood-red particles began to drop with the slow shake of the monster’s head.

Horrified and acting on impulse, Lark pulled back the sword, slicing a thick cut into the monster’s shoulder. This time, blood did spray all over his sword arm, but the monster was nearly on top of him. Its back leg kicked out, knocking the scabbard into his abdomen.

All the muscles in his body tightened as he was drop-kicked onto the ground. Gushi barely made it in time, careening into the side of the monster’s skull as it was about to slap Lark’s head around.

The broadsword dropped somewhere, so Lark pulled out the revolver from his spatial ring, and took aim, letting one, then two shots rip. Fire burned on the leg that kicked him, but the other shot missed. With a ragged shake, the fire went out like a light, and the monster focused back on him.

Too fast—shit—one, two, three, four…five bursts of flames shot forth—the last one, barely sparked an ember against the monster’s chest. The burnt smell drew to his nostrils and Lark’s stomach recoiled. He wrapped an arm around his nose just as the Cursed Human shrieked.

Underlying the sinister-sounding scream, a solid cry resounded in Lark’s ears. “Why can’t I die?” It was the same weepy voice that had whispered to him earlier. Because of this, Lark would say later, he didn’t see the flying kick coming.

The revolver flew in one direction, away from him, and his body flew in another, crashing through the library’s windows. Wooziness invaded his brain and glass spilled all over him as expected when a fifteen feet tall monster tosses a normal person into a building.

A loud boom from around the corner told him it had knocked down a row of bookshelves. Gushi was trying its best to run and hide while lobbing small-sized dictionaries at the monster’s head.

Lark opened his spatial ring once more and pulled out the roped pouch along with several apothecary bottles. So much for his plans. His gaze burned, blood seeped from his upper eyelid, as he shook one of the bottles and popped off the pressure seal on the other. A hard-smelling liquor filled the room.

“Item: Red Potion (magic)

A lesser restorative health and stamina potion.

To use: pour over the wound to recover health, or ingest to recover stamina.

Ingredients: Red vine, red snail shells, green snail shells, and tomaberry juice.
2 fl oz
Crafted by Cornelius Goodwing.”

What a mad mixologist. Lark’s shoulders tensed before raising the bottle, the size of a shot glass, over his head. Cold, red liquid splashed onto his hair and dribbled down his forehead where the cut seemed to stem from. Sweet-smelling fragrance came and evaporated as the liquid did too after completing its task; taking all the hurt, and the pain away.

“Gushi!” He yelled, pitching his arm with the half-consumed bottle. The slime came squirming down the hall and jumped into the air, receiving the leftovers. Books and tables flew right behind Gushi, as well as the giant monster who flipped over everything in sight. Gushi’s body flashed a quick green light then it disappeared into the ball of its antenna.

“Down!”

Gushi reacted to Lark’s command, curling its body into a flat disk and landed onto the floor behind some desks. Not far behind, the monster barreled its tumorous-looking arm into a pile of books, where it last saw the slime.

“Sip on this!” The unopened potion bottle spun through the air and cracked upon hitting the back of the monster’s hip. It wasn’t where he was aiming for, which made his comment a little nonsensical. Nonetheless, the reagent began to show its effects. A pool of green liquid had splattered onto the muddy-colored skin and dripped onto the floor, where it turned into several small pebbles. The ex-human snapped its neck in Lark’s direction, rather than at the thing which hit it and began to move. Once its leg extended though, the pebble sprouted into a large, twisting vine.

“Item: Slender Vines Green Potion. (magic)

Offensive binding magic. Strength of seedlings and their roots will depend on the type of plant bristle used. After locking onto the target’s scent, their roots will bind and siphon energy.

To use: Pour liquid over the target.

Ingredients: Green flower, cactus nectar, plant bristle, and vinegar
6 fl oz
Crafted by Cornelius Goodwing.”

Before it knew what had happened, the monster’s legs were wrapped tight by thorns. Half its body fell to the floor atop magazines and fallen chairs.

Lark smirked. “Gotcha.”

Gushi hopped out the woodwork, taking a split second analyzing the situation between the monster and the strangling vines, before delivering a rapid face-slap. Meanwhile, Lark picked up the revolver which had fallen outside of the library’s doorsteps. His grip changed from cold to warm in a matter of seconds. To explain the sudden feeling, he fired once at a pile of filing cabinets with papers strewn about. As a result, everything lit into a sudden bonfire. It seemed like Gushi’s present had recharged his power.

Lark tilted his head to the side. Who would’ve thought carpet flooring was extremely flammable? The flames licked through the ugly gray threads and climbed over the wooden furniture in less than five seconds. A column of smog rose to the second story ceiling, here, the fire sprinkler system activated. Out of the six nozzles dispersing gallons of water, one was right above Gushi and the Cursed Human.

“Oh, that’s not good.”

Fat raindrops splattered everywhere. Despite the heavy downpour, Lark noticed, where the thorns once were, pink buds began to bloom. Growling, the monster whipped an arm at a nearby chair, causing it to roll and fly over Gushi’s head. The vines weakened. Another arm managed to slip through, now only its legs were still stuck.

Lark pushed past the clutter, picking Gushi up under his arm and hustled a good ten feet away when a loud roar followed. Then several snaps.

It was free.