Colm couldn't contain himself any longer, his excitement boiling over. "This is incredible! Why did I suddenly get an attunement right after you told me about it? Does everyone have one? Why is it hidden? What else does the system hide—?"

He stopped abruptly as Jerry held up a hand, his expression calm but firm.

"Calm down, kid—one question at a time," Jerry said, his tone measured. "I'll answer a few of those, and then we're going to get back to the lessons I had planned. After that, if you want, you can hit the training hall and try out those shiny new upgrades."

Before Jerry could continue, Colm jumped in again. "Wait—before we go any further, I have to ask. Why are you helping me? I'm just some random guy Joss pointed your way, and you dropped what you were doing to help me out. Why?"

Jerry chuckled at the question, his gruff voice softening slightly. "That one's easy, so let's start there." Leaning back, he folded his arms, settling into a comfortable stance.

"I'm a historian for the Adventurers' Guild. My job, simply put, is to gather, preserve, and share information. Been at it a long time, and I do it because I enjoy it—simple as that. Who knows where I'll be in a few years, but for now, this is what I do." His gaze drifted for a moment before he added, "There's a lot about this world we don't know. Hell, compared to how things were before the system arrived, we're barely scratching the surface."

He shrugged, then continued. "But here's the real reason I'm helping you. Sure, it's my job, but it's also part of what the Adventurers' Guild stands for. You don't know much about us yet, but you will soon enough. When the system came, the guild formed—a group of people banding together to help others survive in this chaotic world. That's what we do."

Jerry's expression turned serious. "Sure, we make good money doing it, but those who are in it just for the coin don't last long. This world chews up people like that and spits them out. I help because I want to—and because people like you, who clearly have potential, need a foundation to stand on."

Colm absorbed the words, nodding slightly as Jerry's demeanor softened.

"Now, as for your attunement questions," Jerry continued, moving the conversation forward. "Why did you receive an attunement, and why is it hidden? Those two things go hand in hand." He leaned forward, his tone a mix of authority and curiosity. "From what we understand, attunements are a system-provided feature, but they're hidden by default. If you don't know about them, you'll never get to use them. That's the trigger—knowledge. The moment you realize there's something more and what it's about you are ready to unlock it, the system acknowledges that and responds. Why does it work that way? Hell, we don't know. But it makes you wonder, doesn't it? What else is the system hiding? What other secrets could it be waiting for us to uncover?"

Jerry smirked, his eyes glinting with the same curiosity Colm was feeling. "You've already seen what attunements can do. How it granted new abilities and supercharged your class abilities with no extra cost? Now imagine if there's more out there like that—more hidden features that just require the right conditions to unlock. That's what I want to find. That knowledge could save lives."

Colm felt his pulse quicken at the thought, but Jerry wasn't done.

"And yes, pretty much everyone has an attunement—eventually. Few people these days figure it out naturally; others need someone like me to give them the knowledge to push them in the right direction. It's an enormous boost to anyone's abilities, but it's also personal. That's why I was so damn insistent earlier." Jerry jabbed a finger in the air for emphasis. "An attunement has to resonate with you. It's not about copying what some bigshot picked because they looked cool or strong. Plenty of fools choose something flashy that doesn't fit them and end up dead because of it."

He leaned back with a satisfied huff, his expression leveling out. "That's why I gave you the warning. You seem smart enough to take it seriously. Now, focus on making that attunement yours."

Colm sat there, processing Jerry's words, feeling the weight of it all settle over him. The system was more complex—and more mysterious—than he'd ever realized, but at least now he had a clearer idea of where to start.

Clearing his throat, Jerry pressed on. "Alright, now that you've got a basic understanding of classes and attunements, it's time to discuss the world itself. I know I've mentioned bits and pieces, and you've probably had a few system notifications about it, but we're in a place called the Echoed Lands."

He paused for a moment, his gaze growing distant. "We don't really know why it's called that. When the system arrived, it rebranded the world, as if it had always been this way. The Echoed Lands are essentially a vast collection of massive isles, separated by endless stretches of open water. There's still so much unexplored territory, and even what we have mapped out is only a fraction of the world."

His expression darkened slightly. "We have outposts on some of the isles, but from what we understand, we estimate nearly seventy to eighty percent of them have been overrun by the undead, their strength varying from place to place. That's the world now." He exhaled, shaking his head. "It wasn't always like this. Before the system, we had massive continents—entire landmasses that stretched farther than you could imagine. But now?" He gestured vaguely. "Scattered islands. A world cut apart."

His eyes flicked back to Colm, assessing. "Either way, you'll likely be here for quite some time unless you somehow gain the ability to fly, teleport long distances, or afford transport by caravan—which, by the way, is expensive as hell." He let the words hang before adding, "And that's not even touching on the idea of getting back to your world. Interdimensional travel? I've never heard of it. Maybe it's possible, but… who knows?"

Jerry leaned back slightly, fixing Colm with a steady look. "My recommendation? Stay here in Brimhope. Learn the ropes, get stronger, and figure out what you want to do next before making any rash decisions."

He continued, gesturing loosely with his hand. "Now, speaking of Brimhope, this town sits near the northern coast of the isle—and compared to some of the smaller ones out there, we're on a massive landmass. Some isles are barely more than specks in the ocean, but this one? It stretches for thousands of miles."

He paused, his expression thoughtful. "Actually, we believe the Shift expanded the world. This one isle alone is nearly half the size of one of the major continents before the Shift—yet it's still just one of hundreds. If that's true, then the sheer scale of the world we're in now is far beyond what it used to be."

He glanced northward. "If you travel a few hundred miles in that direction, you'll hit the ocean. It's a sight worth seeing—vast, serene, and strangely calming. If you ever get the chance, I'd suggest making the trip. Feeling the ocean breeze out there? It's something special."

Jerry's voice softened slightly as he continued. "Brimhope got its name from Brimwhistle, an old seafaring town. That's where I grew up. The place used to be famous for the melodic sound the wind made when it hit the coastal rock formations—like music carried on the ocean air. But that town is in ruins now and its name is now a bitter reminder that the system changed everything." He let out a humorless chuckle. "We got trapped in that damn forest when the system terraformed the world. At first, we tried to make it work, but the undead kept getting stronger and stronger. Eventually, we had no choice but to evacuate and flee here and founded Brimhope."

Jerry smirked faintly, though his eyes carried a weight of old memories. "I even had to blow up the town hall during our escape because we were getting overwhelmed."

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

Colm's mind clicked the pieces together almost immediately, thinking quickly about the crater. Shit, that was him? Pushing the thought aside, Colm blurted out, "Brimwhistle! That's where I ended up when I left the Echo. I got infected there and well, that's how I became a Morvyn. There was this incredibly strong undead under that crater in a bunker with what I'm sure was a wind attunement. It used these haunting whistles as weapons, and the system called it a Pitchcaller. Damn, thing was strong and creative. Nearly killed me outside of the infection."

At the description of the Pitchcaller, Jerry's faint smirk faded. His gaze turned sharp and distant, a sadness flickering across his face. "Ah, I see," Jerry muttered, his voice quieter now. "So… he finally bit the dust."

Colm frowned, watching Jerry closely as the man exhaled deeply and continued, "There's only one person I know of who knew about that bunker and has abilities that sound similar to that. He was incredibly talented—one of the best, really. Saved my life more times than I can count back in the early days. But something changed in him. He became… sporadic. Isolated. Started hoarding knowledge, keeping secrets." Jerry paused, rubbing his chin as if recalling a distant memory. "I always suspected he'd figured out something important—like attunements—long before the rest of us. But I never confirmed it. I never set foot back in Brimwhistle after we fled."

Jerry's expression darkened slightly, and his words carried a quiet weight. "If it was who I think it was, his name was Pitch Lorn. My brother." He shook his head, the sadness lingering. "A damn shame how things turned out."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Colm said, his tone laced with sympathy. "If it's any consolation, I found something in that bunker under the crater—a makeshift office. There was a journal, mostly illegible, but it had some notes. I think it might have been his."

He extended the journal toward Jerry.

Jerry's eyes widened slightly as he took it from Colm's outstretched hand. "Thank you," he said, his voice quiet, almost reverent, as he carefully held the worn pages.

Struggling to continue, Jerry pushed forward, his voice steady despite the weight of the topic. "The undead—we'll go into more detail later, but for now, what you need to know is that they're deadly. Well… maybe not as much to you anymore, but to most? They're a death sentence unless you have a good way to sustain yourself and most don't."

He exhaled, his tone darkening. "The infection affects people differently. Some turn into mindless husks, stripped of everything they once were. Others—the stronger ones—retain fragments of themselves. Their abilities, their instincts… hell, even the system acknowledges them."

His jaw tightened as his voice dropped lower. "Seeing as it called Pitch the Pitchcaller." His words lingered in the air, his expression unreadable as silence settled between them.

Once the initial anger subsided, Jerry cleared his throat and continued where he left off, knowing his brother was truly gone. "Ahem. Alright, let's keep going. That's the basics of the world. You won't be leaving this isle anytime soon, so don't worry about that. Now, let's talk about Echoes. From what you've told me, you've already dealt with one—and a unique, sentient one at that. Those are beyond rare."

Jerry leaned forward, his gaze sharp. "For some background, we only know what the system tells us. Echoes are isolated pockets of space that exist separate from the overworld, places filled with challenges and opportunities. They appear randomly, some seem permanent, others seem to last only until they're cleared once. We have a few permanent ones around here. One thing to nitpick is I swear on my life the name Echo isn't random."

He paused, his eyes distant, as if staring into the past. "I believe Echoes are remnants of the world before the shift," Jerry stated firmly. "The term Echo? It's a nod from the system. A memory of what was. In my time, I've been through hundreds, maybe thousands of Echoes. Some of them felt familiar, like places I've been before. It's eerie as hell." He sighed, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, we've never confirmed this. Just a gut feeling."

Jerry sat back and cracked a faint grin. "Echoes can be anything. Some are slaughterhouses where you're fighting wave after wave of monsters. Others are giant puzzles—clues, traps, riddles you've got to figure out to move forward. Hell, there's no real limit to them. I once got stuck in one for a year." He gave Colm a pointed look. "Yeah, you heard me. A whole year. That damn Echo didn't let me out until it decided I'd 'won' and handed me a system notification for my trouble. Nearly drove me insane."

Colm stared at him, wide-eyed, but Jerry waved him off. "Moving on."

"Sentient Echoes, though? Those are a whole different ball game," Jerry said, his tone turning serious. "Regular Echoes are static—mostly unchanging. Sentient ones? They're alive, Colm. They can manipulate everything. The entrance, the environment, the monsters inside. They can make things harder, easier, or downright impossible. I don't know how they came about, but they're terrifying."

He leaned in, his voice low and heavy. "Listen to me. I'm a high level—higher than most. But in a sentient Echo? They could squash me like a bug if they wanted to. I've encountered a handful in all my years—five," he said, holding up his hand for emphasis. "Each one was… passive. Almost helpful. But that doesn't mean there aren't bad seeds out there. A sentient Echo with malice? That's something you don't want to face."

Jerry let the weight of that statement sink in before exhaling. "Alright, now that you've had your crash course on Echoes, let's talk about the fun part. Echoes are our training grounds. That's how most people level up. Fighting the undead out in the overworld? Sure, it'll give you some experience, but it's slow as hell. The undead's levels decay over time. Even worse, one mistake—one bite, one scratch—and you're done for."

He pointed at Colm. "You lucky bastard don't have to worry about that anymore as a Morvyn, but you know how deadly it is. Echoes, though? That's where you get stronger. Real experience, real challenges. But it's dangerous, too. Echoes follow the same tier system as everything else in this world. Tier 1 Echoes are the easiest; Tier 5 is the most dangerous. Sentient Echoes? They're beyond classification—no tier, no way to gauge their true danger."

Jerry paused long enough for Colm to interject, "How long does it take to clear an Echo?"

Jerry shrugged. "There's no set time frame. Some can take a couple of hours. Others might stretch into days or weeks. And sentient ones?" He laughed dryly. "Those are unpredictable. Like I said, that one I got stuck in for a year? That was a bastard of a sentient Echo. It wanted to test my patience, so it kept me trapped until it was satisfied."

Jerry smirked, though the memory seemed to sting. "And let me tell you—nothing messes with your sanity like being stuck in one place for that long."

"Next," Jerry continued, his voice steady and serious, "I want to touch on something else—Achievements. They're rare, but they're worth their weight in gold. While not strictly tied to Echoes, achievements seem to be more commonly earned through them. Think of them as rewards for exceptional feats of strength, ingenuity, or sheer survival."

He paused, locking eyes with Colm. "Here's the important part—they're powerful and their bonuses add up. Achievements offer boosts—no strings attached, no drawbacks. A flat-out blessing to your abilities. If you get one, consider yourself damn lucky."

Colm's mind swam with questions, the weight of the new information pressing on him. He couldn't help but think of his synergized achievements. "Is there a cap to the number of achievements someone can have? And are there different types of achievements?"

Jerry smirked, the sharp look in his eyes making it clear he wasn't missing the weight behind Colm's words. "No, there's no cap. You can have as many achievements as you're lucky—or skilled—enough to earn. That said, don't get ahead of yourself. Achievements are rare. You'd be lucky to get a handful in your lifetime, let alone more than that."

He leaned forward slightly, his tone taking on a more measured quality. "As for types? Yes, there are. Most Achievements are what we call standard achievements—rewards for individual feats of strength, survival, or ingenuity. Simple, effective, and valuable. But then…" Jerry's smirk grew wider, almost conspiratorial. "There are synergized achievements."

Colm blinked, curiosity prickling at the word. Excited to learn more at last about synergized achievements.

"Synergized Achievements happen when two or more individual Achievements align to form something greater—a combined reward that amplifies their individual effects. These are exceedingly rare and incredibly powerful. You never really know when they'll happen, though. Sometimes, it's pure chance—a set of circumstances where the right feats string together. Other times, it's the system recognizing that events are working toward a common purpose and rewarding that synergy."

Jerry's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Colm, his gaze more scrutinizing now. "It's what makes you wonder just how lucky—or unlucky—someone has to be to stumble into it."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.