Dula and Arelli had left the starting area with the bandaged Wangshi and traveled deeper inside the abandoned mines. Tailing them was no problem with the Trinity Watch’s soundproofing function, but Lark’s nose itched after each turn down a different corridor. Mixed scents entered from all directions. Lark licked his index finger and pointed it above Gushi’s body. No wind. But the tunnel they were currently in smelt of salt and baking sand, different from the earlier room, which had an ashen taste.

Gushi’s antenna bobbed up and down, changing colors between green and blue, but the investigators had not shown an interest in stopping. Lark glanced around with Gushi’s Perception skill. The canopy-type plants Nympha snacked on earlier were highlighted in a blue hue, meaning they had a spirit nature, but where was Gushi’s green light coming from?

His shirt pocket rustled. Nympha was snickering. “Ulu’s chosen is really loved by the water sprites, however, only fire sprites like the lower caves.” Bright blue eyes shone in the darkness, sending a chill down Lark’s spine.

A mark of annoyance passed over Dula’s brow as they halted in front of a caved-in passage. Dula’s golem placed Wangshi back against the wall and punched its large log-like arms at the dead-end, paving a way forward.

“It’s time, stay back.” Nympha jumped out of Lark’s pocket and scurried alongside the wall closest to Wangshi. Without any given warning, the earth began to give off heat in the same area as the golem.

Dula immediately casted Wind-Walker on himself and shouted for Arelli. The alchemist’s alarmed voice was enough to spur Lark to jump back.

“Set up a fire ward,”— Dula waved his quill again, sending a spell to protect the defenseless Wangshi just in time before the gravel beneath their feet melted into a small pool of lava— “now!”

Magma sputtered out of the golem’s body through small cracks in its armor. Dula’s golem didn't look in pain to Lark, but its coal-like eyes were bleeding red. With another wave of the quill the golem dissembled back into the earth, but molten red continued to spread across the chamber and lava seeped out of the sealed passage, torching both rocks and plants into flames. A line of smoke rose to the ceiling of the tunnel and Nympha could no longer be seen in the stygian blackness.

Dula retreated next to Arelli, who had pulled out the spear behind his back. He dug a line with it, separating the distance between them and the lava flow. The spear tip scratched along the walls too as Arelli thrusted it into the ceiling. He placed two reddish stones inside the holes and stepped away. The ward was set; out of the carved line, horse-shaped figures made of red dust raced over the fire in waves. The liquid lava, which once bubbled like an angry swamp, settled into layers of dried, black earth.

Dula flipped the gray hair out his eyes, watching the blaze settle into mere ash and smoke. “I forgot you aren’t much of a fire specialist. But, this is good enough.” Then he looked behind them and dispelled his Wind Shield. The windy sphere dissipated and a bandaged bundle fell haphazardly onto the floor where he summoned another golem to lift it like a large package. “Let’s go back. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Where was Nympha? Lark watched the investigation team leave through another corridor with baited breath. They’re taking him away!

“Worried, little one?” The shapeshifter appeared at the sealed passageway, holding a heavily bandaged Wangshi in its mouth. Slightly bigger than Silvina’s Ice Wolf, Nympha stood over the mound of dried lava and gingerly dropped the caretaker in front of the surprised Lark.

Lark sat next to the unconscious Wangshi and asked, “If he’s here, what did Dula and Arelli take with them?”

“The two humans?” Nympha asked, its purple fur shrunk back to the mouse form, while placing canopy leaves all over Wangshi’s body. “Oh, I left a Duplicate, a fake substitute.”

“Originally, all three humans eventually returned to the surface by force.” Nympha balanced on its stringy tail, while dousing the unconscious caretaker with the leaves’ extracts. “I remember it like it was just yesterday. Ulu’s chosen summoned a water dragon, but it was all for naught when they met with the dark enchanter and his army back at their base.”

The green, canopy leaves covered Wangshi’s entire body, except for his head. Nympha took away the sword(that somehow managed to be bandaged to his hip) and dragged it next to Lark, who picked it up. He had expected it weigh a few pounds, however, it was like he was holding a cloud. It’s lighter than the twins’ cardboard machetes… he juggled it between his hands.

Nympha stared at him and he cleared his throat after putting away the sword. “Sounds serious. Did somebody die?”

“Yes.”

If only Lark could read the underlying emotion behind Nympha’s gaze, he would’ve understood, then and there, his new familiar was no stranger to death and all its accompaniments. Pressure in the room dropped with a flicker of Nympha’s tail slapping the ground; Gushi’s antenna changed colors from blue to green when the sides of the wall opened, and an outpour of bones, leather scraps, and ornery equipment piled onto the floor. Lark paled, covering his nose. He could’ve sworn even Sphinx held back a nauseated groan. A metallic, six-fingered glove tumbled with a big-boned skeletal hand still attached. Hundreds must’ve died here.

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” Sphinx reassured. “The bodies smell like the grease off of roasted pork… Orcs? Surprisingly, I also smell salt. I suppose someone thought they could’ve used a lil bit of seasoning.”

“The Vodianoi…salty fiends,” Nympha scowled and retrieved a green-coated scepter from one of the headless, blue-skinned bodies. Unlike the six-fingered skeletal hand, the Vodianoi didn’t wear much armor with their outer bodies looking like an empty crab shell; pincer-like arms and carapace torsos strewn across the tunnel floor, but their legs, where were they?

He looked at the scrappy magic armor and weapons riddled with holes and dents. The six-fingered glove must’ve belonged to an orc; only the dead orcs wore heavy equipment. It was their blood and guts staining the insides of these leather scraps a brownish red, he thought with a dry hurl.

“When the dark enchanter killed one of their comrades…the one with all the runes on his body. Pity. And then this one fell down here again. I thought he’d be absorbed into the dungeon walls like the others before him, but his will to survive enabled him to find the world gate.”

The scepter taken from the corpse dimly glowed; its jewel encrusted head couldn’t match the reflection in Nympha’s eyes. “The will to survive and surpass is not easy as the dead regret. Are you prepared?”

I can save him. Fake bravado wracked in his ribs in front of the littered corpses. Wangshi looked almost like half of a corpse. Lark gripped the sword, steeling his mind. “I’ll do whatever I can for him.”

“Stab the sword straight into his forehead,” Nympha ordered with eyes as cold as ice. Lark felt his soul leave his body, immediately thinking: You’re kidding? An edge of panic followed when the connection between him and Sphinx cut again. Or, Sphinx ignored his calls for help. All this nonsense of danger and reward was completely that fake’s fault—all contingency plans can go straight to hell!

“Hold it upright.” Nympha gestured, continuing the conversation without doubt he would follow the command. “And pierce it all the way down till nothing is left.”

His sword grip tightened as he tried to clamp down the rising frustration like a bitter pill. The black scabbard dropped to the floor and the blade rested painfully bare against Wangshi’s pale skin. Shockingly, he did not tremble as he thought he would, but his heart beat unceasingly, pulsing against his throat. Wangshi better live through this.

“I get the idea,” Lark snapped, guiding the tip across the surface of thin, black hair until it reached right between his thick, bushy eyebrows. A lash fell out of line. It rested slightly off-center on the top of his eyelid. Wangshi’s eyes remained motionless, but looked as though they could awaken at any moment and they could be brought back to the real world. Out of this nightmare-like state. Lark kneaded the sides of the rough leather hilt, while raising it higher. His hands formed a tight knot above the hilt and his thumbs rubbed against each other; they circled as if rolling back in time to when he didn’t make the choice to save time. The moment never arrived.

And it sunk down.

“Don’t close your eyes, little one.” Nympha waved a paw, signaling the start of unsealing the curse. The crashing feeling didn’t stop and his palms fused with the hilt until they collided against a barrier; the jian absorbed into the space created, impaling the foundation. Then he let go, watching the sword hilt disappear completely into Wangshi’s forehead.

“Stand back. I’ll do the rest.” Nympha leapt up above Wangshi’s head, the scepter was held by the tail until the jewel came out with a small pop. With a wild swing, the scepter chuted into the corpse’s chest, crumbling the shell into pieces, but Nympha kept the dimly lit jewel in its paws and settled it in right above the opening in Wangshi’s skull.

Lark had already fallen on his butt when Nympha took over the proceedings; unable to stand back up, he kept an eye on the strange gem and the blue-green energies rising from the gap he made.

“Hate when it does that: spirit compression.” Sphinx’s voice returned to him, abnormally out-of-breath. “Master Nympha is a bag of tricks. The curse seal is transferring into the magic gem.”

“You may refer to me as a she, not that I identify with any human generated genders—but my goddess was once a girl too,” Nympha retorted, holding the gem now swirling with raw energy. She passed the gem shaped like a marble to Lark, who caught it with his bare hands.

“Is this okay? Me holding it like this?” Lark’s eyes shifted to the gem warily and a new black box appeared.

“Item: Cursed Memory Gem (magic) (spirit) (uncommon)

A rank D cursed object. Curse will activate once gem is in use.

Effects: Paralysis. The afflicted will relive their worse memory during the duration of the effect.”

Master Nympha’s whiskers shook and her nose crinkled with wrinkles as she took back the gem. “Perhaps, it is too soon to give this to you. No matter. I have other gifts.”

She took off into the darkness carrying the gem with her and Lark stared at Wangshi. Despite the numerous corpses surrounding them, the scenery was not at all drab; after all, by overcoming this trauma he was finally able to cure Wangshi. It took some time, but he did it.

“What a pure smile,” Sphinx remarked. Something about the way he talked sent a chill inside Lark’s heart, as if it wouldn’t be long before his happiness could disappear.

“And you have no idea what you just did,” Sphinx spoke again.

Why does he sound so pleased? Lark didn’t have time to wonder because SIM reacted with a new notification: “Holder’s stats have updated!”

“Lark Rune [Trickster]

[Survivor][Beginner Beast Tamer][Familiar*]

Happiness Level: 80%

STR: 18

DEX: 20 (+5)

INT: 18 (+5)

*MG: 15 (+10)

*SPT: -100

*LUK: 35 (+10)

Update: Due to the powerful familiar contract magic casted upon user: Magic power has increased by 15 points, Spirit power has decreased by 100 points, and Luck has increased by 20 points. Stats will remain permanent until the Familiar status has been removed.

[Familiar]

Bound by spiritual contract magic, the holder, Lark, has suffered a severe penalty of losing an eighth of his soul to the dungeon master, Nympha. Until the agreements of the contract are completed(holder must give up 99 Celestial coins, and complete Nympha’s request), the holder will be subjected to harsh spiritual training as deemed necessary by SIM to recover and strengthen soul properties.