Time slipped by.

In what felt like an instant, five days had passed.

Inevitably.

The flow of time in the Soul Realm was peculiar, to say the least. At moments, it crawled at a snail's pace; at others, it surged forward too quickly.

After all, this was neither Earth nor the Human Domain.

Time there did not align with that of the Silver Void. That much was clear, especially considering that the Spirit Realm was vast, and that the Nine Realms had once existed within its dimensional boundaries. According to physics, the flow of time in the Spirit Realm could be considered a consequence of its unique dimensional structure. Unlike the relatively linear progression of time in the Human Domain, the Spirit Realm existed across multiple temporal layers simultaneously. These layers were not bound by the same gravitational and spatial constants as the physical world.

Effectively, time in the Spirit Realm was influenced by the density of spiritual in energy. Areas saturated with potent spiritual energy tended to slow the perception of time, making seconds feel like hours, while regions of sparse energy accelerated it, compressing days into moments.

Furthermore, the existence of multiple overlapping dimensions meant that the flow of time could vary drastically from one locale to another. These temporal fluctuations became even more chaotic when a person entered a "Phrase."

How could one best explain this phenomenon?

For example, if someone passed through a "green" prism pool to enter a Phrase, it was possible for time to accelerate or decelerate relative to the outside world, depending on the intrinsic temporal signature of that Phrase.

Phrases, in general, could be considered worlds within a world. Or perhaps that wasn't quite accurate.

After all, the Spirit Realm itself was already another world. The Phrases, then, were distinct realms nested within it, though it might be more precise to call them conjured realities, as they were weaved by the Dreadspire.

This was knowledge I'd pieced together from several books on the dimensionality of the Silver Void. It was confusing at first, but once understood, it became endlessly fascinating.

Quite a good way to spend my free time.

Besides attending to leisurely pursuits and reading in the Library, I had also been focusing on honing my swordsmanship. Memories alone only took you so far; without a body capable of executing the techniques, they were essentially useless.

Zephyr was a natural-born Imperial, while Kael was a candidate for induction into an Imperial Clan.

Clearly, both of them had far more experience than I did. That was one of the main reasons I hadn't confronted them with murderous intent. If I had, I would have been utterly destroyed. Zephyr, in particular, had managed to kill two Waking Terrors while surrounded, a feat that spoke volumes of his skill and Kael was equally formidable. But both of them were dead.

Perhaps this was the true advantage of being a coward.

Anyway, my swordsmanship had improved by leaps and bounds since I first began. That didn't mean I had suddenly become a master, but I could no longer be called a novice. Perhaps it was fair to say I was on the path to expertise, somewhere in between beginner and master. At this point, if I found myself facing Zephyr or Kael, I could at least put up a real fight and might even win.

Much to my frustration, though, I still hadn't managed to defeat Starfallen even once!

The Mirror Bond was simply that talented with the sword. Or perhaps, it was more accurate to say he was over-talented.

A direct confrontation was impossible to win. Not only did he inherit all my attributes — most notably, my photographic memory — but he also possessed an ability of his own. This came from the effect of granting him a "Name." As a result, he had superior swordsmanship, along with heightened processing and analytical capabilities. This meant that while I was learning his moves, the Bond was simultaneously learning mine, making it all the easier for him to counter every strike.

A monster.

No matter how I looked at it, there was no other way to put it: he truly was a Monster. The term fit perfectly, ironically enough.

On top of that, my understanding of Song of Requiem hadn't improved at all. No matter what I tried, I couldn't make any progress with the ability, even when using Starfallen's body. The gap in proficiency between when the Bond wielded it and when I did was glaringly obvious. It felt as if an invisible barrier was stopping me from progressing any further.

This barrier had a name: lack of understanding.

If my grasp was incomplete, I couldn't wield the power to its full potential. Maybe one day I would, but not now. Attempting too much at once would only lead to my own downfall. The Bond carried most of the burden, but ultimately, it still fell back on me. Even Inquisitor Ivy had advised me to focus solely on the Way of Survival, yet here I was, juggling that alongside rune studies and sword training.

All things considered, it was an exhausting endeavor. No wonder my mental reserves were drained thoroughly by the end of each day.

But this was something I had to endure if I wanted to increase my chances of survival. Most Blasphemers never returned from their First Void Seed. A fortunate few managed to survive and ascend as Enlightened, while the rest simply vanished forever. That was the natural order of things.

For that reason, it only made sense to be prepared. I had no intention of dying here.

Absolutely not.

With that resolved, I set those thoughts aside.

Interestingly, there was talk of an upcoming festival before the Sleepless' departure. It was referred to either as the Regal Festival or the Great Imperial Festival. The exact history behind the celebration was unclear, but the Sleepless seemed quite eager for it. According to the reports I'd received from the shadow during its usual, rather perverted reconnaissance, most of the girls — and yes, their boyfriends as well — were already making preparations.

Everyone was in high spirits, eager to create cheerful memories before descending into hell. After all, some of them might never return, so it was only natural to cling to this brief reprieve before stepping into a world of both possibilities and impossibilities.

But too much energy could easily become a problem.

Blasphemers were always at risk of losing control when wielding power, but there was another "special kind of way" they could unravel. After all, this place was full of nothing but young adults overflowing with hormones.

Surely, you can already guess the outcome of that, can't you?

Young maidens would have their innocence taken and step into adulthood. And depending on the boy's recklessness — or the strength of their pull-out game — they might even find themselves becoming mothers far too early.

It was hardly different from a holiday like Christmas, when young adults often found excuses to indulge in sex.

The mere thought of it was enough to give me a throbbing headache.

One thing, however, was certain: this place was bound to grow noisy, and more than a few girls would end up in tears, one way or another.

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