Teh
Drrrt. Drrrt.
The old cell phone vibrated on the table littered with crumpled paper, cigarette butts, and the remains of stale coffee. The laptop screen was still lit, displaying one final sentence:
"And when Azur's sword struck the sky, the heavens were split—"
Verchiel opened his eyes slowly, his head still resting on the keyboard. His eyes were red and sharp, piercing anyone foolish enough to look back. Long black hair hung unkempt in front of his face—a handsome, symmetrical, and unbelievably beautiful face.
But there was no warmth.
His face was cold. Frozen.
The face of a demon within a prince.
"Still not finished. One more chapter."
He took a sip of his cold coffee. Bitter, just like his heart. On his bedroom wall hung the status of the main character from the novel he was nearly finished writing.
---
Name: Alzareth Von Glaive
Level: 72
Race: Human (Darkborn)
STR: 134
AGI: 91
INT: 112
VIT: 105
MP: 220
Skills:
Shadow Dominion [Grade: S]
Blood Contract [Grade: A]
Devour Soul [Grade: A]
Absolute Fear Aura [Grade: S+]
"Damn character. Too perfect. Must die."
Verchiel growled softly. Not out of hatred for the character—but for the world. The world he created. A world that became a place to vent all his disgust with reality.
He wasn't an idealistic writer. He didn't create heroes. He created betrayal, blood, failure, and a world that denied happiness. Because to him, a happy world... was just another lie.
"Happy endings are cheap fairy tales. I'm not a dream seller."
He lit his last cigarette. The first puff made his head feel a little light.
Suddenly, a bright light erupted from within the laptop—not from the screen, but from the machine itself. It was as if a living light burst from it.
"Die…"
Those were his last words before his body was swallowed by a blinding white light.
[Loading...]
---
A cold wind slapped his face. The smell of grass. The smell of earth. The air... too fresh. Too real.
Verchiel opened his eyes.
The sky was gray. The clouds were heavy. The ground was wet. A thin mist danced in the air. He slowly rose to his feet and looked at his body—smaller, younger. But still handsome.
Too handsome.
"...Damn."
He stood, staring at his reflection in the water of a small pond nearby. It was still perfect: fair skin, a sharp nose, piercing gray eyes. But the flat expression killed all charm.
"This is Nirvalis."
He knew this place. He created it. The Black Forest. An entry-level zone with a probability of level 3–5 monsters. It should be safe... it should be.
Then the system's voice echoed in his head, clear and mechanical:
Welcome, New Player.]
Name: Verchiel
Level: 1
Race: Human
Starting Stats:
STR: 6
AGI: 7
INT: 9
VIT: 8
HP: 100
MP: 80
Starting Skills:
[Awareness I] — Level: F
[Writer's Instinct] — Level: E
> All skills can be upgraded through use, training, or special achievements.
---
"F and E…" Verchiel grinned sarcastically. "Starting from the bottom. Cliché. Disgusting."
He knew this system. He was the one who wrote it. A system with eight skill levels:
> F < D < C < B < A < S < S+ < EX
Every skill can be upgraded. But only a few know how. Even the main characters in the story have to die multiple times to advance a level.
"And now it's my turn? Bastard system…"
But before he could finish cursing, a new notification appeared.
---
[Unique Privilege: "The Creator"]
> Because you are an anomalous entity in the system, the EXP from monsters you kill is multiplied by 3x.
This effect is permanent. It cannot be transferred.
Verchiel frowned.
"...Triple EXP?"
That was... too good. But it wasn't a reward. The system was alive. It knew who he was.
"You think I'll be happy about this? Wrong. You're just making me want to dismantle you even more from the inside."
He clenched his fists. Then…
---
[Initial Quest Begins.]
Title: Survival in the World of Nirvalis
Objective: Survive 7 days in the Unknown Zone
Reward: +1 Random Skill (Minimum Grade D), +10 EXP
Failure: Permanent Death
---
Verchiel snorted. "Seven days in a chaotic zone like this? Damn it."
He began walking slowly. His steps were calm, his eyes alert. This world wouldn't give him an easy ride.
But after only fifteen minutes of walking, a rumbling could be heard in the distance.
RAWRRR!!!
From the mist emerged a large creature. Its body resembled a cow-sized wolfhound, with black bones protruding from its back. Red eyes, sharp teeth.
Black-Bone Direwolf
Level 18
"...Why are you here?"
It's an intermediate monster. It shouldn't appear in the beginner zone. But the system spoke again.
---
[Special Event Begins.]
Status: System Anomaly detected.
Game difficulty permanently increased.
Monster encounters will adjust to your presence.
System Note:
"Welcome back, Author."
Verchiel was silent for a moment.
Then he laughed. Soft. Dry. Cold.
"Oh... so you're alive. You realize who I am."
His smile was sly.
"Good. Now I realize too. You want to play rough? I'll make you regret bringing me to this hell."
He picked up a sharp piece of wood from the ground. It wasn't much. But enough to crack open a monster's head if used correctly.
"Start here."
He stared at the Direwolf in front of him. Gripping the wood tightly.
"From level one, skill F, weak body... I'll climb. And when I reach the top, I'll come back and destroy you."