The teleportation experience of an Oblivion Gate is vastly different from that of the Pure Land. Going through an Oblivion Gate is like entering a historical junkyard, and it's very likely to leave one covered in dust.
Simon looked down at the epiphyllum in his palm.
The transcendent state bestowed by the Bodhisattva, detached from the trajectory of fate, seemed to go unnoticed even by Hermaeus Mora.
A Daedric Prince is not omniscient. Even if Mora is known as the Prince of Secrets, there are still domains he cannot reach. He is like a person looking at a painting; there are always lines hidden beneath the surface that will escape his vision. When Simon enters the Pure Land, his fate becomes hidden and invisible. Such fluctuations in destiny frequently occur, and whether Hermaeus Mora truly possesses the corresponding insight is unknown.
The Pure Land has always been Simon's base in the elder scrolls world, his domain. Within the Pure Land, he is impervious to harm, and the Pure Land cannot be perceived by any entity whose fruit position does not surpass that of Lu Yuan Bodhisattva. It is a place of absolute safety.
To speak boldly, how can a mere Daedric Prince glimpse Simon's trajectory of fate? All that he sees is an illusion!
In Apocrypha, Simon maintained his rationality and caution, not attempting to use the Pure Land to collect books. This is because, for a Daedric Prince, their domain is their very essence of existence; every rustle and stir is sensed, akin to a manifested Dharma body. It is deeply hidden within Oblivion, only reachable by following its guidance, representing its most primal and pure characteristics. The dark bubble that Simon interacted with was merely an insignificant avatar, and as for its Sambhogakaya, Simon was unsure what the Yuan Stream of this world truly looked like, but he imagined it would be difficult to ever see the Sambhogakaya.
Simon's explanation of a Daedric Prince's existence, using the concept of the Trikaya, is still imperfect. However, the name Lu Yuan Bodhisattva is also merely a borrowed term from Buddhism; the true existent thing is called Bodhisattva, yet it is not Bodhisattva; it is called Trikaya, yet it is not Trikaya.
In short, a Daedric Prince is a higher being, transcending the dimension of the mortal world.
Simon, having survived the ordeal, felt no lingering fear.
It was just like going on a trip, killing two of the host's dogs, and still receiving warm hospitality. Thinking about it, he felt quite sorry for Lord Mora.
"Consider it compensation for emotional distress," the Troll muttered, but the auditory hallucinations in his ears did not reappear, which made him feel a little unaccustomed. He wondered if Hermaeus had stopped paying attention to him, or if he had simply withdrawn his gaze to a more secretive place.
There is no sunrise or sunset in Apocrypha, so one day there is actually twenty-four hours in the mundane world; there was no phenomenon of one day in the heavens being a year on earth.
Calculating the time, he would have to visit Jonas again in three days. Simon didn't waste time; his daily routine had to be completed.
In the morning, he practiced martial arts, still the familiar Lion's Visage Golden Sand Palm, Lion's Visage Iron Head Skill, and Thirteen Grand Protectors' Horizontal Training Skill.
In the afternoon, he built a house. The main structure was complete, a square wooden box that looked like something out of My World, quite peculiar. Simon planned to build a painted corridor around the first floor to make it look more dignified.
In the evening, he read books, which was actually just looking up dictionaries and learning foreign languages, giving him a sense of returning to his student days.
Three days later, he went to Winterhold to pick up Jonas for dinner.
Such days truly reminded Simon of his student years, meeting once a week, a half-day off, just returning home for a meal before going back to school. Such a relaxed half-day was extremely rare and enjoyable, though sometimes there was accumulated homework to deal with. He would always remember the afternoon sun, shining through the ugly floral curtains, with hazy light and shadows floating on the cement floor. The wind from outside blew through the window cracks, making the curtains gently sway.
Everything was very similar, except that back then, he was a child, and now, he was an elder.
"Sir, what are you thinking about?"
"Me?" Simon was momentarily dazed, looking at the boy devouring his food at the table. "I'm thinking about what you'll be like when you grow up."
Jonas took a sip of spring water and smiled, saying, "Sir, you're also getting taller! I often wonder how tall you'll be in the future too."
The Troll had indeed grown taller again, so much so that the Guards of Winterhold no longer jokingly called him a dwarf. This rate of growth was very unusual, and people often curiously asked him what was going on. Simon always vaguely replied, "A second growth spurt."
Hearing Jonas's teasing, Simon chuckled and chided, "You're a little devil."
The boy said seriously, "I want to grow up."
Simon didn't ask why, merely casually breaking off pieces of the white bread in his hand. It was freshly baked, warm, fragrant, soft, and delicious, made with refined flour, which was quite expensive.
Jonas blinked, seeing the Troll's relaxed posture, and thus lost the desire to confide, lowering his head to chew heartily.
The crops had not yet been harvested. Although they were occasionally nourished by life magical energy, growth is a natural process that cannot be rushed. The earliest batch of wheat would not be ready for harvest until the sun was high.
Simon asked Jonas, "Are you working on any research topics at the College?"
"Yes!" the Breton Boy perked up at the question. "I'm going to restore a great spell!"
"Oh?"
"It's the spell of flight! I saw it in the library. This spell used to exist, but it gradually became lost due to safety concerns. I not only want to restore it but also improve its flaws!"
"Good, that's ambitious!" the Troll laughed heartily. "Do you have any classmates or mages helping you?"
"Not yet, but once I achieve some results, I'll be able to get them to join!" The boy spoke eloquently about these things, even analyzing the personalities of several classmates. Such insight and determination were something Simon would never have had at his age.
Every time he spent time with this boy, he couldn't help but wonder about his future.
What a bright and promising path...
After seeing off the ambitious boy, Simon's life once again settled into a routine.
While studying in the evening, he also organized his books, roughly classifying them into eight categories: Magic, Technology, Magical Kinetic Science, Biographies, Travelogues, Philosophy and Literature, Miscellaneous Talks, and Gibberish. Then, he began to sort out the books he had copied from Apocrypha, one by one.
Those he understood were placed in the first seven categories, while those he didn't understand were all put into the final category of Gibberish.
During this process, Simon valued the first three categories of books the most, which were also the fewest in number.
And among them, only a small portion could be deciphered, which was quite a pity.
However, with the Dwemer technical blueprints, many of Simon's ambitious plans could now begin to unfold.
For example, the Necrotic Forge could fully adopt these Dwemer designs, and the resulting products would be able to mass-produce tools like an assembly line. All Simon had to do was change the energy source from soul stone to necromantic energy.
He started immediately, and this construction project took a full month.
The tall forge, made of black iron, resembled a grand hall. Numerous heavy rivets connected patterned iron plates. The main body was an oval-shaped furnace, with an additional steam-driven mechanism to power its operation. A multitude of pipes crisscrossed, and fire, steam, and molten metal surged within them.
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