He looked upon the scatted dust, currently whipping along the ground—and wondered how long it took to accumulate these tiny specks of dust into one clothed ball. It didn’t appear that after one-time use, they would neatly bundle up again. While he pondered about what to do about the mess, a searing pain raged across his abdomen. His entire body twitched up and down as he got down on one knee.

Fortunately, there was one more red vial left inside his spatial ring.

Before he could access the spatial ring, the Trinity Watch vibrated with several notifications and COSMO’s voice entered his head:

“SIM alert: User has killed an administrator.”

“SIM reports user has gained several achievements: Brink of death kill, first-time magic-user, and lucky strike.”

“See inbox for rewards and status screen for skill updates.”

“Countdown: 3 minutes and 32 seconds left.”

It took only four to five minutes for such a heated battle to start and be over with? That’s how long it usually took to make tea…No way…

He slapped his face to wake up his senses. “What’s wrong with me? I’ve gotta get Gushi,” he said to himself and drank the vial, which tasted strangely like tomato juice.

Across from him sat the crushed-up chair, drawing his attention to the second-floor windows. A creeping reminder of that day flew back to him as Mishka and Sky fell through the same way.

Lamenting the fact that he still did not have a movement-based skill like wind-walker, Lark held in the pain as his breathing pinched his sides. An entire bookcase fell over to the ground just as he stepped inside.

A low hiss echoed. “Fiend.”

It had a cute, squeaky final touch despite the overlaying threat. Nympha? Lark’s head turned for a split second when the ghoulish figure came crashing down. Thin silver needles embedded in its skin; some all the way through, others not so much. The abomination’s restoration speed applied as some skin overgrowth crawled over or around the penetrated openings.

On top of the monster’s skull, a poor little slime hung on for dear life.

“Gushi! Watch it,” Lark hollered, tossing a wayward dictionary at the vile thing’s backside. It slow-turned at the sudden arrival or his re-arrival to battle. All its misshapen fingers lowered to the ground near its hide like a strange crouching dog and its neck cocked around like an owl’s, folding its reddish-brown skin into rolls of matted flesh. A strange gaping smile met Lark’s gaze as the monster’s head tilted, chin to chest, and finally, the once empty eye sockets returned with its iconic red glow.

Hypnotized by fear, Lark nearly took a step back only until he saw Gushi freeze in place and found his voice again. He warned Nympha, “Careful! There’s vampire dust.” He hadn’t quite figured out where she was yet, but he had heard her earlier which meant she was nearby. Surely, she could hear him.

Immediately, a fence of silver-pointed needles stacked the ground, separating the abomination and them from his match with Sphinx.

“You’ve grown stronger again, my little familiar,” she said. Her tail flicked his butt. She was in her dog-like form, circling the air.

“—Hey!” He jumped forward, frowning. “Aren’t you supposed to my familiar?”

“We’re in a partnership. Give and take. The titles do not matter, little one.” There was a smug grin crossing her purple cheeks, but her eyes weren’t focused on him.

“Okaaay. So what’s with them?” Lark nodded towards the monster pair, where Gushi was sticking onto the Cursed Human like a jello parasite.

“It’s honing its instincts—the blood lust craze temporarily boosts its mobility and power, but once that’s over, it devolves with a brain of an insect, an overly large one at that.”

Nympha hadn’t shown any inclination to move, neither did his slime nor the Cursed Human, who was still looking at them oddly enough.

“Is Gushi alright?” Lark cautioned.

“The slime learned a new skill—it’s currently siphoning energy, weakening it. Just analyze the skill later. I’m going—” She raced forward. Her leopard body deftly circled behind the abomination. Needles materialized out of thin air at her sides.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Lark’s eyes widened. She didn’t need to say anything for that to happen—could it be a psionic skill? Curious, he edged closer. The broadsword stood ready in front, just in case.

What could be said about the current abomination was that it skirted like an over-sized spider. Its arms and legs extended and clicked the ground in what could only be called a nightmarish wrangle after Nympha’s needles pierced through its tough skin.

Sludgy blood splattered like inkblots and a cry from its jowls sent Lark into a daze. For a moment, he thought, it almost sounded human. Then it bolted away from Nympha and changed directions towards him.

Once he saw it gunning for him, his senses reawakened. As he took a step forward, ready to swing, Nympha came in front of him. “Get back!” An invisible barrier produced between them and the charging monster. Gushi nearly flung back from impact as they collided.

Nympha’s canines, which were larger than Lark’s thumbs, bared fiercely forth like fangs. From the back, he noticed her tail stiffen. It curled in a way unnatural to her usual legendary self. Had she barely managed to repel the attack?

“What happened to me just taking the backseat, Master Nympha?” Lark readied the broadsword next to his hip. No way he was going to let his points go after coming this far. They only had over a minute left.

The purple creature snorted. “My strength was lowered excessively—if you don’t believe me, then scan.”

Oh? He didn’t know SIM could do that.

“Nympha

[Guardian Forest Sprite][Dungeon Master]

Happiness: 80%

STR: 50

DEX: 50

INT: 50

MG: 50

SPRT: 50

LUK: 50

Skills

Shapeshifter”

Fifty's slapped across the board, which totaled to about 300 stat points. In comparison, the Cursed Human stats hadn’t changed since their journey in the Palace of Memories.

“[Title: Cursed Human]

LVL: 1

Happiness: NA

STR: 100

DEX: 100

INT: 10

MG: 200

SPT: 10

LUK: NA”

Surprisingly, the abomination was considered a level 1 type creature and, indeed stat-wise, Nympha fell behind by 120 points. The freakish thing still retained its mobility, while Nympha’s slackened, but her movements weren’t discernible to Lark’s eyes at all. The way she moved was still faster than what he could comprehend, especially when she and Sphinx did those disappearing tricks of theirs.

“You’re still growing little one, can’t handle me at my best yet,” she chirped in her cute parakeet kind-of-way, while still holding up the square-like barrier as the monster pounded against it. Similar to those air needles she used, the barrier had a white, silvery tint. The coloration wasn’t a hard-white like paper, but rather translucent like an almost see-through glass box.

“I see a calling for battle in your eyes,” she looked at him. Her blue eyes not as cold as they were before.

Without waiting to hear Lark’s response, Nympha, with all her strength propelled the barrier towards the library’s walls. Her pebbled nose slicked with sweat.

Gushi, noticing the subtle changes in Nympha’s attitude, scurried off in a hurry, backpedaling off of the monster’s head and over the barrier to where Lark stood.

Lark called its name in relief, hugging the slime in his arms. The little bugger slapped his cheek playfully as if saying, “What took you so long?” Either that or, “What’s wrong with you?” It was still hard to tell without a face.

With a shaky breath, Nympha tossed Lark an impatient look. Taking the cue, both beast tamer and slime lined up next to Nympha, watching as the translucent barrier echoed its final crack in its defense.

She reverted back to her mouse form as the Cursed Human emerged: tall, dark, and angry. Blood-mist shrouded its face and a cruel snap of its bones hinted it was no longer processing pain normally.

“Sphinx should be really the one teaching you this.” Nympha retorted, marching up onto Lark’s shoulder. He made no comment, gripping the hilt of the broadsword till his knuckles burned white. Gushi climbed on top of his head, activating Perception. About thirty to forty feet away, the Cursed Human’s coal-like eyes stared back, mouth slobbered. One thought shuddered through Lark; it was looking at them like prey…

Her mousy whiskers poked the sides of his chin. “You ready?”

As if on her words, it began to zig-zag towards them. Each wave of its limbs meant it covered a distance of more than three feet. Buckets of drool slopped the pavement. It’d reach them in less than ten seconds.

“Yes!” Lark bellowed, raising the handle with both hands. He had more than enough time to end this farce! Energy coiled down to his fingertips and extended over the blade. “Burn it all down,” she ordered.

At last, its legs came barreling towards his face. Heat sprang from his poised fingers like offshoots of a tree. In a swift movement, it blew away the red fog allowing Lark to sidestep without visual impairment.

He pivoted, committing himself to the final swing. Moments before the strike, he brought down the heated blade in a way a logger would with an ax. This was his new normal and his heart rate sped up seeing the burns and dried, black blood overlay poorly put-together skin. It was clear as day and a sensation like no other except maybe a hunter’s dagger through a pig’s heart.

A clean, yet tragic execution.

He remembered Sphinx’s blank gaze when he delivered the first cut—was he like that too? He wondered as black fluid spurted out. It rolled underneath him, burning holes into his mind.

As the head and body turned to cinders, Vick’s voice carried to him. A dry whisper. “…Thank you.”

“World reset in 10…9…” A curtain closed, where not even a stray sunbeam could enter and Lark waited in the darkness till he could think again about whether or not that was the right thing to do.