My fingers trembled as the chest gave way with a slow creak.The sound echoed through the chamber, swallowed by the blue flames that flickered but did not waver.
And there it was.
A dagger—unlike anything I've ever seen.
The blade was obsidian black, sharp as if honed not by steel but by some otherworldly mineral. It shimmered faintly like fractured glass, its surface traced by a single glowing curve—arched into the shape of a crescent, stretching nearly the length of the blade.
Its handle was carved from dark wood, smooth yet heavy with age. At the very end, a crimson cloth was wrapped tightly, its fabric frayed as though it had endured centuries of hands before mine.
But it was the engravings that froze me.
Symbols—etched deep into the hilt, carved so intricately they almost breathed. Fire. Water. Earth. Air. Lightning. Shadow. Light. Each one I recognized, and yet… the way they were arranged wasn't ordinary. They weren't separate. They were connected, a chain of elements woven into a single pattern, forming something greater.
I reached out.
[System Notice: You have discovered "The Veilpiercer."]
[Do you wish to attune?]
The words burned across my vision. My pulse quickened.
This wasn't just some ceremonial relic. This dagger was alive with purpose.
And it was waiting—for me.
"Attune."
[You have attained a God rank weapon!][The Veilpiercer]
[Description: A dagger that serves as the goddess of death's favorite pendant during the war between the gods.]
The words nearly blinded me. A god-rank weapon? For a beginner Interlinker like me, that was supposed to be impossible. Things like this were myths—rumors whispered in taverns or written down in guides that called them false flags. And yet here it was, lying in my hand, its black gemlike blade humming softly as if alive.
Beside it lay a small bottle, faintly glowing with a warm light.
[Would you like to attune the "Bottle of Prayers from the people of Soragon"?]
I hesitated, but my curiosity drowned my caution."Attune."
[You have attained the Bottle of Prayers from the people of Soragon.]
[Item type: Consumable]
The glass pulsed once in my hand before dimming, like it was waiting for me. Without thinking, I popped the lid. The scent was strange—like old incense and ash—and for a second I almost backed out. Almost.
I drank.
The liquid scorched down my throat and then exploded outward, coursing through every vein in my body. My vision blurred white. My knees buckled. My heart skipped a beat.
Then the system's voice struck like a hammer:
[Leveled up!][Level system unlocked.][Current Level: 4]
"...Level four already?" I whispered, half in disbelief, half in awe.
Interlinkers clawed for years just to crawl upward. Two thousand experience for every level from one to ten. Then five thousand each past that. Each step heavier, crueler. Entire guilds collapsed because they couldn't keep pace with the cost of progress. And I—someone who barely survived one fight—just leapt forward three levels in a blink.
It wasn't normal. It wasn't fair. But it was mine.
The temple around me flickered as if reacting to my sudden growth. Blue flames danced higher, shadows stretched longer, and the statue of the veiled goddess seemed almost to turn her hidden face toward me.
And then the system whispered again:
[System Notice: Leveling has unlocked your Growth Path.]
[Choose your Class.][Choose your Affinity.]
The panels unfolded, sharper this time, their glow pressing against my vision. Classes. Affinities. My foundation in this realm.
I scrolled through the list until one line pulsed brighter than the rest:
Class: Owler – 100% Compatibility
[Are you sure you would choose Owler as your class?]
"Yes."
[Status updated.]
A sudden weight settled on me, like the system was fitting a cloak across my shoulders. A role. A purpose. Owler. Whatever that truly meant, it resonated deep in my bones.
The next panel shifted open.
[Select Two Affinities.]
Elements were common—everyone wanted fire or ice for the raw power. But power was useless if I couldn't live long enough to wield it. I knew better.
[Elemental Affinity: Recovery][Elemental Affinity: Instant – Creation (sub-branch)]
Recovery meant support. It meant I could push my body beyond normal limits, heal myself where others would collapse. And Instant would speed it all up, letting recovery activate the moment I willed it.
But the Creation sub-branch… that was rare. Luck, maybe? Or fate. Either way, it was mine now.
[Status updated.]
I exhaled slowly. The light panels faded one by one, leaving me in the blue glow of the ruined temple once more.
"I think that should be enough."
"Exit."
[You are now exiting the Lobby of Faith.]
You have passed your test.]
[Let your light guide the unwanted.]
The temple began to unravel into fragments of glass and ash, dissolving into nothing as the system carried me away.
After some time, I could hear a voice—familiar, warm, worried.
"Aunt Jeyda?"
"Seyfe! Seyfe, you're awake finally!" Aunt Jeyda cried, wrapping me in a tight embrace.
"It hurts—get off me first," I croaked, struggling for air.
She quickly pulled back, flustered. "Sorry, sorry! I just… you really scared me."
I sat up, wincing. "Where am I?"
"You're in my previous guild," she said, gesturing at the chamber walls. "Inside one of the chamber rooms—just in case you didn't make it."
"Thankfully," I muttered, "I made it."
The door creaked open, and a man stepped in.
He looked composed, precise—his hair combed back neatly, his suit spotless, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. Probably in his thirties. His gaze was sharp, but not unkind.
"Jeyda," the man said evenly, "looks like Seyfe here managed to pass the Lobby of Faith."
"Oh right—Seyfe, this is Indra," Jeyda said, smiling in a way that told me she was trying to lighten the mood. "My husband—the one I always nag about to you."
…I don't think that was the best introduction.
"I hear a lot about you from Aunt Jeyda," I said awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck.
Indra adjusted his glasses, lips quirking slightly. "It's nice meeting you. You don't have to be stiff around me." His tone shifted, more professional now. "Well, to save us time, let me explain your situation."
I leaned forward, listening.
"If you had failed," Indra said calmly, "it could have spawned an Abberant. Thankfully, this chamber nullifies that possibility—that's why Jeyda brought you here."
The word hung heavy in the air. Abberant. My chest tightened at the thought.
"Is there a reason why an Abberant spawns from a failed interlinker?" I asked carefully.
Indra's expression hardened, though his voice remained steady. "Unfortunately… it's still a mystery. Not even the Nexus' highest researchers know. What we do know is that once an interlinker fails, the chance of corruption rises drastically. And an Abberant born from that…"
He paused, as if choosing his words.
"…is always something no one wants to face unprepared."
"Now that you're an interlinker, Seyfe—what class did you choose?" Aunt Jeyda chimed in, leaning closer with genuine curiosity.
"I chose an Owler," I said. "It showed 100% compatibility."
Both Indra and Aunt Jeyda froze, their surprise obvious but different in tone—Indra's more analytical, Aunt Jeyda's almost excited.
"An Owler, hm?" Indra adjusted his glasses again, eyes narrowing with interest. "That means your role will likely revolve around scouting, reconnaissance… maybe even field scanning."
I thought back to my own habits. It made sense. I had always leaned too much on the Outline function, using it even when others dismissed it. Maybe that habit had pushed me toward this path.
"You might actually be a good Owler then," Aunt Jeyda said, her hands clapping once in delight. "The system doesn't just throw 100% compatibility around lightly."
Indra leaned forward. "And your affinity? Which did you choose?"
"Recovery… and Instant," I said.
Aunt Jeyda's cheerful expression faltered. Her brows knit together as if I'd just said something odd.
"Recovery and Instant? Why those? I thought you'd go for something flashy—like lightning, or maybe even one of the more aggressive combat elements. That would've matched Owler better."
I sighed, rubbing my neck. "Well, Aunt Jeyda, you already know I'm not much of a fighter. Back in senior high, I couldn't even break into the top ten during combat rankings. No matter how hard I tried."
For a second, she was quiet, then she laughed softly, shaking her head. "Well, I guess you're right there."
Indra, however, stayed thoughtful. He tapped his finger against his arm, watching me. "Recovery and Instant. That's… unusual, but not unwise. If used properly, it could make you versatile. Supportive when needed, independent when forced to fight."
He looked at me with a calculating expression. "It won't be easy, though. Owlers don't usually walk the path you're choosing. But if you succeed… you might become something rare."
"But still… Instant is an affinity that's hard to master," Aunt Jeyda said, her arms folding as she sank into thought. "It relies heavily on what sub-branch you get, and that's randomized. Some Instant users only end up with simple skills like barrier conjuration. It's not useless, but… I suppose it could enhance your Recovery affinity if you're careful."
Indra adjusted his glasses again, his expression firm. "She's right. There are only a handful of top Instant affinity users in our country alone. Most avoid it because it's a gamble—fifty-fifty whether you get something practical or something that cripples your build."
"I'll think of ways to work around it," I replied. My voice was steadier than I felt, but backing down now would only prove their doubts right.
The room was quiet for a moment, then Aunt Jeyda gave a small smile. "You always were stubborn. Fine. If that's your decision, then we'll help however we can."
Indra nodded, his tone shifting from analytical to decisive. "You'll need structure, guidance. That means enrolling in a university guild. They'll give you the resources and training an independent interlinker could never afford."
The words sank in. A guild-university. That meant not just classes, but contracts, missions, and a formal backing. I wouldn't be left to wander alone.
Aunt Jeyda exhaled softly. "I've been retired for a long time now, Seyfe. My days of running with a guild are over. But Indra…" She glanced at her husband with a knowing look.
"I'll see to your placement," Indra said. "Once you've finished the paperwork, I'll assign you where you'll have the best chance of surviving—and growing."
I nodded slowly, the weight of it settling in. For the first time since waking up, it felt real. I was an interlinker now. And there was no turning back.
"I'll take care of the paperwork," Indra said, straightening his coat. "Go home with Jeyda, Seyfe. And while you're at it—explore the system functions. Learn what you can about your build. Surprises are best dealt with early."
He offered us a ride, and soon enough we were back at the apartment. For the first time in what felt like days, I wasn't stuck in that other body, or wandering strange realms. Just… home. With four walls, a ceiling, and the smell of food drifting from the kitchen.
Aunt Jeyda was already bustling around, her sleeves rolled up as she stirred something on the stove. The familiar scent of chicken adobo filled the air, warm and grounding.
"So," she called out without looking back, "how's your avatar, Seyfe?"
I dropped onto the couch, letting out a half-groan. "Your advice—'you should stay'—didn't exactly help."
She froze for a second before turning, brows raised. "What do you mean?"
"My avatar's a female," I said flatly.
There was silence. Then—
She gasped so hard I thought she'd choke. "What?" she squealed, before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. She doubled over, clutching her stomach, then collapsed to her knees as tears welled in her eyes.
"I can't believe it… really? Really?" she managed between fits of laughter.
"Right?" I said, leaning back with an exhausted sigh.
"This is the first time I've ever heard of someone ending up with an opposite-gender avatar!" she wheezed, wiping her eyes before breaking into laughter again. I didn't think it was that funny, but the sound of her laughter filling the room made the weight in my chest feel a little lighter.
"Since I'm an interlinker now, that means I'll have to be in that body whenever I go to a realm," I muttered, rubbing my temple.
Aunt Jeyda was still laughing, her shoulders shaking as she tried to compose herself. "Pfft—don't worry too much about it," she teased, waving a hand. "As long as your sync reaches a hundred percent, you'll be fine. You're still suffering from desync, right?"
With a sigh, I pulled up the status window. The translucent panel floated in front of me, numbers glowing faintly. Sure enough, the word [Desyncing] blinked at the top, and my sync rate sat stubbornly at 12%.
"After all that trouble, I couldn't even push it to fifteen percent," I grunted.
Jeyda peeked at the window, then gave me a soft smile. "No need to worry. Sync isn't something you can brute force. It'll rise naturally the more time you spend in your avatar."
Easy for her to say.
"Besides, most people wouldn't use their real appearances when they go into realms anyway," Aunt Jeyda said, still chuckling as she wiped a tear from her eye. "You'll be fine. But—" she smirked, "—these days the percentage of interlinkers who do use their real appearance has skyrocketed. You were just unlucky the system assigned you an avatar instead."
"Unlucky, huh…" I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Can I just… not go into realms at all?"
Her laughter softened into something gentler. "Well, you can avoid them most of the time. But there are situations where you'll have no choice but to enter."
I tilted my head. "Certain days?"
"Mm. Right." She nodded knowingly. "It's always the third week of the month. A system-wide compulsory entry."
"Right…" I muttered, remembering the warnings I'd overheard before. "Third week."
"Yep. Meanwhile, interlinkers who've reached level ten and higher can freely enter as they wish, anytime they want."
I frowned at my status window again, the number four glowing faintly on the panel. Level ten suddenly felt a lot farther away than I thought.
"So what will the first compulsory event be?" I asked.
"Just like in modern role-play games," Aunt Jeyda explained, "there are servers that act as open and explorable realms. Some interlinkers have even built civilizations in them."
"So they live there?" I raised a brow.
"Interlinkers below level ten are required to live there for the entire compulsory week," she said, matter-of-factly.
I leaned forward, curiosity rising. "And when does the realm actually become dangerous?"
"The civilized realm itself is safe enough," she assured, "but there's always a subspace called Heaven's Lobby. You'll spawn there first before choosing which realm to enter."
"So, like a waiting area?" I clarified.
"Exactly. You could just choose to stay in the civilized realm for the week… but if you do, you'll lose the chance to level up. Other realms are where real experience is earned."
I tapped the table, thinking it over. "Do all realms have themes or stories you have to play out?"
She shook her head. "Nope. That only applies to the Lobby of Faith. After that, each realm has a set objective. Some are dungeons. Some are survival-based. And some are like PvP arenas—those are the only ones where death isn't penalized by actual death."
That last line made me freeze."So… every other realm—if you die…"
Aunt Jeyda nodded gravely. "Yes. You die in both worlds."
The words hung heavy in the air, her earlier laughter now a distant memory.