[Avatar Syncing: 15%]
I'm back again in this body. At least the sync raised by three percent.
The air was damp, heavy with the musk of wet soil and rotting leaves. I looked around—dense forest, ancient trees towering like silent guardians. Too silent. Not even the rustle of insects or the call of birds. The only sound I caught was that scream earlier, cut short before I'd fully regained consciousness.
So now my objective is to survive until Level 10? One hundred sixty-eight days in this realm alone. And not a single sign of another interlinker nearby.
"Map."
[Map Function: Enabled]
A pale holographic grid unfolded in front of me, sketching out the terrain around me in a radius of about fifteen meters. Disappointing—it didn't show the full forest, only what surrounded me.
"Scan."
[Scanning in progress]
A faint pulse spread from my body like a ripple across water, washing through the trees.
The owler class... it had its perks. Exclusive functions others overlooked. With Map, I could see layouts. With Scan, I could detect loot, enemies, or significant presences within range. If anything lurked, if anything valuable hid, it would show itself.
[Scan Complete][Detected: 1 hostile presence at 14 meters. Status: stationary.]
I froze.
It wasn't moving. Just waiting.
I shifted my gaze toward the direction flagged on the map—fourteen meters. Just inside the edge of my detection radius. If it had been even a step beyond that, I wouldn't have known until it was too late.
My stats flashed in my mind: physical resistance abysmal, magical resistance worse. Sense wouldn't matter if whatever lurked out there was faster than my radar could ping.
Engaging now would be suicide.
"Compass."
[Compass: Enabled]
A simple cardinal overlay slid across my view, pointing north, east, west… south.
South it is. The opposite direction. I wasn't here to prove anything. Not yet. I needed survival, growth, levels—time.
Every instinct screamed at me to move fast, but haste makes noise. Instead, I forced my steps into steady, deliberate motions, slipping between the trees while the compass guided me away.
[Warning: hostile presence shifting. Status: tracking.]
My blood ran cold.
I took the Veilpiercer from my inventory—the God-graded dagger I got from the Lobby of Faith scenario.
Its obsidian edge shimmered faintly in the dim forest light. My only comfort in this place.
If this really is a stalker-type aberrant, then I'm already at a disadvantage. My radar can't pin its exact size, and my physical and magical resistance are trash. Sense is useless if what's hunting me can move faster than my eyes or my scan can track.
The map pulsed again.
[Warning: Hostile presence—14 meters.]
I froze, my hand tightening around the hilt.
"…It's watching me."
I shifted my weight carefully, every muscle tense. The last thing I need is to stumble headfirst into something built to ambush. My only chance is to make distance—find an open field, somewhere I can see it coming instead of being strangled by shadows.
"Compass."
[Compass: Enabled]
South. Always south. Away from the mark. Away from the silence that feels too heavy to be natural.
I exhaled slowly, forcing my body to move, step by careful step. I don't have a dash skill. I don't have an artifact that'll save me. Until Level 5, it's all me.
The rustle came again.
[Warning: Hostile presence—12 meters.]
Too close.
This is bad… I can't use my Instant Affinity. Not until I unlock the skill tree at Level 5.
And to reach Level 5, I need experience.
Which means… this aberrant. As much as I'd rather avoid it, this thing has to be my source of EXP. But knowing that doesn't make the pit in my stomach any smaller.
[Map]
The projection flickered. The nearest open field was southwest. Not far, but far enough for a mistake to end me.
I clenched my jaw. I'd need to move while keeping the radar up—tracking the stalker while threading through the trees.
Problem is, running multiple functions always strains the sync. My head already feels like it's under pressure. The momentary delay between scan refreshes is widening, like static on a signal.
[Warning: Hostile presence—11 meters.]
Damn it. It's adjusting. Closing in each time the map pulses.
I lowered myself, crouching just enough to minimize noise, then stepped toward the southwest. My grip on Veilpiercer tightened until my knuckles whitened.
Every second counts. Every step is a gamble.
If I make it to the open field, maybe—just maybe—I can turn this from a hunt into a fight.
If not… then I'll be dead before I even get the chance to level.
As time passed I could feel my fear growing heavier, pressing against my chest like a weight.
On the edge of my map, the outline of an open field flickered into view.
Come on… just a little more.
[Scan]
My blood froze. The red dot on the radar moved—fast—straight toward me.
"Shit…" I muttered, forcing my legs to pump harder. Branches whipped at my arms, each step louder than the last. I could see it now: the faint shimmer of light spilling through the tree line ahead. The open field was right there.
The red dot closed in.
[3 meters]
My heart raced. I broke through the last row of trees, grass exploding around me.
[2 meters]
Something shifted behind me, silent but suffocating, like the air itself warped.
[1 meter]
My body reacted before my mind did—I dove forward, rolling across the dirt. A sharp gust brushed the back of my neck, followed by a screech that rattled my skull.
I snapped my head around. At first, there was nothing—just empty air. Then I caught it: a ripple, like glass bending, taking form only for a heartbeat before vanishing again.
The Stalker.
I pulled out the Veilpiercer, its dark blade humming faintly in my grip.
If I can't see it, I'll just have to trust the radar…
The red dot shifted left. I twisted, slashing wildly—steel cracked against something solid though invisible, sparks bursting mid-air. The Stalker shrieked again, loud enough to make my knees tremble.
It was real. It could bleed.
But could I survive long enough to make it happen?
I took a breath, lungs burning, and thanked whatever luck I had left for reaching the edge of the open field.
But luck only went so far.
The Aberrant wasn't just fast—it was invisible.
My only lifeline was the scan function, the pale blue radar floating in the corner of my vision.
"Fine…" I muttered, tightening my grip on the Veilpiercer until my knuckles ached. "Let's do this."
I stood still, trying to steady my breathing, ears straining for anything. The wind shifted, grass rustled… then—
Crack.
A branch snapped to the west. The radar pinged red.
I twisted and slashed upward, steel cutting through empty air—only to feel a sudden pressure push back against my blade. Like I'd struck against nothing yet something. A faint distortion shimmered before me, gone in a blink.
Another ping. North.
I spun, slashing low this time. The Veilpiercer sliced through a rushing gust, sparks scattering where nothing should exist. A screech split the air, high-pitched and ear-piercing.
It was there. Close.
Then silence.
My heart hammered as I forced my legs to stay rooted. Waiting. Listening.
Snap. Rustle.
East.
I moved faster this time, the dagger whipping across the space ahead of me. A sudden resistance—then blood sprayed, faint and black, before the wound itself faded from sight.
The Stalker hissed, enraged.
The radar pinged again, this time circling, moving faster than before.
It was testing me now.
I swallowed hard. "Come on… I can't keep this up forever."
The grass bent as if something enormous brushed past. My arm lashed out again, sparks bursting in the air as the dagger met that strange, half-there body. The recoil numbed my wrist.
I could hit it. I was hitting it.
But how many more times until it finally decided to strike for real?
Too bad for me—it did.
The radar pinged, but before I could react, something slammed into my back with crushing force.
I was airborne for a moment, then crashed into the mud, rolling until my body stuck against the wet earth.
"Ughhh—!" I screamed, pain tearing through my spine. My lungs burned as I gasped for air.
A red outline flickered across my vision, the system's cold reminder:
[Warning: Critical Condition]
Hah… just one more hit and I'm done for?
My fingers trembled around the Veilpiercer, slick with mud. Every nerve in my body screamed to just lie down. But the Aberrant's distorted hiss echoed through the field, circling me, savoring the moment.
I forced myself onto one knee.
"I… can't…" I wheezed, spitting mud from my mouth, "die here."
The radar pinged again—fast, closing from behind.
I tightened my grip, dragging the blade across my chest in a desperate guard.
A gust of distorted air crashed against me—claws scraping against the Veilpiercer's edge. Sparks burst as steel met void.
I felt the weight behind it. One more second slower and I'd be finished.
I then felt a crashing wind on my right side.
It's attacking from the right.
I thrust the tip of the Veilpiercer in that direction—steel meeting something unseen. The air cracked with a sound like shattering glass.
"[Outline]!" I commanded.
[Abberant Class: Stalker][Designation: Mirageu][Tier: Deviant]
"...Great," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Not a damn spawnling, but a second-tier already."
[Weakness: Wide AoE Attacks]
The Mirageu shrieked, a warped, metallic screech that clawed at my ears, and darted away into the shadows of the open field.
My eyes darted to the Veilpiercer. The system gave me nothing but its name—a god-grade pendant disguised as a weapon. It had to have more to it. Something. Anything.
The air trembled again, the telltale sign of another strike. Faster this time.
I gripped the dagger tighter, switching to my left hand, and with my right I traced my fingers along its edge—desperation guiding instinct.
To my shock, the weapon responded. The short dagger stretched, steel unraveling like liquid until it became a longsword.
"What…?" I muttered, but there was no time to marvel.
Symbols glowed faintly along the hilt. Without thinking, I pressed my thumb against the one that resembled fire, then dragged my fingers upward across the blade.
WHOOSH—
The Veilpiercer roared to life, its length engulfed in violet flame. Heat licked my skin, unnatural and heavy, like it didn't belong to this world.
The crashing wind surged toward me again.
"Come on!" I shouted, swinging with everything I had.
The blade cleaved through the air—
—and the world erupted in a flash of purple fire, a sweeping arc that carved through the open field. The Mirageu's form flickered into view for the first time, a shifting, distorted beast caught in the edge of the flame.
Its scream split the night.
[Damage inflicted: Critical Strike]
The violet arc tore through the field, carving a searing line across the night. The Mirageu's form finally snapped into full view—its body a warped silhouette of jagged limbs and shifting mist, twisting as the purple flames consumed it.
The beast shrieked one last time before collapsing into the mud, its body unraveling into fragments of light.
[Mirageu (Deviant) Defeated][EXP gained: 600][Progress: 600/2000]
I collapsed to one knee, panting, my chest heaving as the fire along the Veilpiercer's blade slowly dimmed.
"600… out of 2000," I muttered, coughing. "That's it? That thing almost killed me and I only got that much?"
The field fell quiet, but not peaceful. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. That fight had been too close—one more strike and I would've been dead.
The Veilpiercer pulsed faintly in my grip, as though acknowledging its use. A god-grade weapon, huh? I'd only scratched the surface of what it could do.
But 600 wasn't enough. If it took nearly everything I had just to take down one Deviant, then how many more would I need to reach level 5? To even survive the 168 days left in this realm?
I tightened my grip, forcing myself back to my feet.
"One down…" I whispered, eyes scanning the treeline. "…a thousand more to go."
[Objective Reminder: Reach Level 10]
The Veilpiercer pulsed faintly before shrinking back into its natural form—the dagger. The purple flame died, leaving only the familiar cold gleam of its edge. Despite the shift in size, the design hadn't changed; the hilt, the engravings, the subtle etching of symbols all stayed the same.
"So even if it changes form… it keeps its identity," I murmured.
I let myself fall back into the mud, breathing heavily. My body ached all over, and the chill of the wet ground clung to my skin. Second time I've been drenched in mud already. At this rate, it's going to become a habit.
Still… I was alive. That was worth the mess.
A Deviant. Second tier. These were no longer the pests the system spawned to keep balance—they were the predators of this place. Aberrants that could dismantle small groups, let alone a lone interlinker like me. The fact I survived at all wasn't proof of skill. It was proof of luck. Luck and the fact that I had a god-graded weapon in my hand.
If someone more experienced had wielded the Veilpiercer, they would have ended the fight in a single, precise stroke. Me? It took panic, desperation, and too many slashes just to bring the Mirageu down.
That inefficiency… it could kill me.
I forced myself to focus. Level 5. That was my first real checkpoint. Unlocking the skill tree was more than just access to flashy techniques—it was survival. Every interlinker earned one skill point per level, and those points could be used to unlock a skill… or bolster stats directly.
My resistance was still in the negatives. One clean hit from an aberrant, and my body nearly gave out. If I could funnel skill points into fixing that flaw, I'd stop skating the line between life and death.
Five levels meant five points. Enough to patch my weaknesses—or maybe gamble on unlocking a skill that could change the game entirely.
I clenched my fist around the dagger, staring at the treeline.
One Deviant down. Too much effort for too little reward. But if I couldn't make it to Level 5… this realm would bury me long before the 168 days were over.
I returned the Veilpiercer to my inventory once my arms stopped trembling and I had just enough energy to push myself upright. The dagger's weight vanished, leaving only the dull ache of fatigue in my body.
[Experience Gained: +600][Total EXP: 600 / 2000]
Killing a single Deviant was worth six hundred experience. That meant just a handful more, and I could hit Level 5. That would be my first, most important goal for this week in the realm—no distractions until then.
Still, the system wasn't just throwing us into these places blindly. There were always optional requests, dangling like bait for anyone greedy or desperate enough to chase them. The rewards were often worth the risk… but most interlinkers never came back from chasing side objectives too early.
"…Optional request, huh? I guess I'll try to do that too," I muttered, more to steady my resolve than anything.
But my priorities were clear. Skills could wait. Fancy techniques could wait. If I didn't fix my foundation, I'd crumble the moment another Mirageu appeared.
My first objective: balance my stats. Survive. Everything else would come after.
I pushed myself up, brushing off the mud that clung stubbornly to my arms. My damp hair fell forward into my face, sticking to my cheek. Annoying. Distracting.
"Tch… I should tie my hair, huh?"
From my inventory, I pulled a simple strip of cloth I'd kept for this exact reason. Practicality over appearance. With one swift motion, I tied the strands back into a rough knot, clearing my vision.
There. At least now I wouldn't have to worry about my hair blinding me in the middle of a fight.