The rain hammered against the roof of my lean-to, a relentless drumming that drowned out the usual sounds of the forest. The shelter wasn’t perfect—water dripped through here and there, soaking patches of the dirt floor—but it was better than nothing. It was mine, and for now, it was enough.

I sat near the entrance, my legs crossed and my hunting knife resting on my lap. The fire just outside the lean-to sputtered in the rain, but the stone ring I’d built around it kept it from going out completely.

I let out a slow breath, leaning back against one of the sturdy wooden beams. It had taken me two full days to gather the materials and build this thing, and I still couldn’t believe I’d managed to pull it off.

It started when I’d stumbled on the Ranger Buildings tab in the System Menu. The moment I’d tapped it, a glowing blueprint appeared in front of me, showing the outline of a simple lean-to with clear labels for the materials I needed.

Logs, grass thatch, sturdy branches.

The System had made it easier than it should’ve been, highlighting patches of grass and fallen trees like a navigation app. Even so, the work had been grueling.

By the time I’d gathered everything and followed the blueprint step by step, my hands were raw, my arms ached, and I had a newfound appreciation for people who built anything by hand.

But seeing it come together—watching the glowing blueprint solidify piece by piece—had been worth it.

Now, sitting inside the finished structure, I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. It wasn’t just a shelter. It was proof that I could survive out here.

The fire crackled softly outside, its light casting flickering shadows across the clearing. My gaze drifted to the hunting knife on my lap, its blade glinting faintly.

I thought back to the wolf—the yellow-eyed predator that had nearly ended me. The fire had been enough to scare it off that time, but what about next time? What if it wasn’t just a wolf?

I clenched my jaw, the weight of the question settling over me like the damp chill of the air.

That was when my mind wandered to a name I hadn’t thought of in years.

“Skyrim,” I muttered, the word barely louder than the rain.

The memories came back all at once. Countless late nights spent sneaking through dungeons, a bow in hand, picking off enemies one by one. No matter how many times I started a new game, I always ended up playing the same way: stealth archer.

I chuckled softly, shaking my head.

It was a running joke in the gaming world, how overpowered stealth archers were. The kind of build that let you clear an entire room without ever being seen, reducing bosses to nothing but pincushions from the shadows.

But it worked. Every time.

“Maybe that’s the answer,” I murmured, staring at the bow propped up in the corner of the lean-to. “Stay quiet, stay smart, and strike from a distance.”

I picked up the bow, running my fingers over the smooth wood. It wasn’t anything fancy—just a simple weapon, as basic as they came—but it felt right in my hands.

A plan began to take shape in my mind. If I was going to survive this world, I needed to stop reacting to it and start preparing for it. That meant leveling up, honing my skills, and making the most of everything the System had to offer.

It wasn’t just a game anymore. But the strategies I’d spent years perfecting? Those were as real as anything.

I tightened my grip on the bow, a flicker of determination sparking in my chest.

“Alright, Skyrim logic,” I said, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Let’s see if you work in the real world.”

The forest had become my proving ground.

Every day was a new challenge: hunting, foraging, completing tasks the System threw my way. Each quest was straightforward, but the forest didn’t make anything easy. The more I ventured into its depths, the more it felt alive—watching, waiting to see if I was worth its secrets.

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Quest: Harvest Wild Game. Reward: +50 EXP.

Quest: Gather Rare Herbs. Reward: +30 EXP.

Quest: Eliminate Forest Vermin. Reward: +75 EXP.

The first hunts were laughable disasters. My aim was shaky, my steps too loud, and every animal within miles probably saw me as more of a clumsy intruder than a predator. But after a few days, something clicked.

A rabbit here. A grouse there. Before long, the fire pit outside my lean-to was regularly hosting meals of game, and my hunting knife was earning its keep.

The lean-to itself, my first real victory, was still standing strong. The System’s blueprint had been a lifesaver, guiding me through the process of gathering logs, branches, and grass thatch to assemble a shelter that could withstand the rain and cold.

The System Menu had become my constant companion. Each day, I dug deeper into its functions, learning what it could do and what I could unlock if I kept pushing myself.

From level 3 onward, I poured every single stat point into Agility. Speed and precision were my edge, and I doubled down on that edge every chance I got.

Level 3–10 Stat Allocation:

* Base Agility: 4

* +2 (Level 3 Stat Points)

* +3 (Level 4 Stat Points)

* +3 (Level 5 Stat Points)

* +3 (Level 6 Stat Points)

* +3 (Level 7 Stat Points)

* +3 (Level 8 Stat Points)

* +3 (Level 9 Stat Points)

* +3 (Level 10 Stat Points)

Final Agility: 25.

I moved faster, quieter, more precisely than ever before. Climbing trees, navigating uneven terrain, lining up a shot—it all felt natural now, like my body had adapted to the demands of this world.

The night I hit level 10, the forest was eerily still. The rain had stopped, leaving the air cool and damp, and the moon cast pale beams through the canopy above.

I returned to my lean-to after another successful hunt, the weight of a small deer slung across my shoulders. Dropping the game outside the shelter, I sat near the fire pit and let myself breathe for a moment.

The System chimed softly, and a glowing notification appeared.

Congratulations, Adventurer!

You have reached Level 10.

I sat up straighter, my pulse quickening as a flood of new messages filled my vision.

Spellcasting Unlocked for Rangers.

The first screen displayed a list of spells, simple but versatile:

1. Hunter’s Mark: Tag an enemy to increase damage and track their location. (Mana Cost: 5)

2. Eagle Eye: Enhance your vision for precise long-distance shots. (Mana Cost: 10)

3. Camouflage Veil: Cloak yourself in a shimmer, blending into your surroundings. (Mana Cost: 8)

The next message was even better.

Major Perk Unlocked: Shadow Stalker.

You are nearly invisible in darkness and shadow, and your first attack from stealth deals double damage.

I let out a low whistle. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

Before I could savor it, another screen popped up.

Choose One Additional Perk:

1. Echo Reflex: Briefly rewind time by one second to correct a mistake or avoid danger. (Cooldown: 2 minutes.)

2. Temporal Snare: Set a trap that slows enemies caught within its radius. (Cooldown: 10 minutes.)

3. Clockwork Precision: Your movements and attacks are unnervingly accurate during critical moments, granting a temporary boost to Agility. (Activation: 3 times per day.)

I stared at the list, my mind racing.

The first option—Echo Reflex—caught my attention immediately. One second wasn’t much, but in the middle of a fight, it could be the difference between life and death. Temporal Snare sounded useful for controlling enemies, while Clockwork Precision promised devastating bursts of accuracy.

After a moment’s thought, I chose Echo Reflex. A faint warmth spread through my chest as the System confirmed my decision.

The final notification appeared with a soft glow.

Ranger Kit Unlocked.

The kit materialized on the ground in front of me, its leather bindings pristine and faintly glowing. I leaned forward, flipping it open to reveal its contents:

* Reinforced Longbow: Sleek and polished, the wood gleamed faintly in the firelight. The grip was wrapped in soft leather, and the string hummed with tension.

* Quiver of Arrows: 50 expertly crafted arrows, each tipped with gleaming steel.

* Hunting Knife: Larger and sharper than my old one, its edge catching the firelight like a predator’s tooth.

* Small Tool Set: Snares, fishing line, and a compact whetstone.

* Cloak of the Wilds: A muted green and brown cloak designed to blend seamlessly into the forest.

I ran my fingers over the bow, testing the string’s tension. It felt natural in my hands, like an extension of myself.

The quiver was light but packed with enough arrows to keep me hunting for weeks. The cloak, when draped over my shoulders, seemed to almost disappear into the shadows.

I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face.

This wasn’t just survival anymore. This was preparation.

I stepped out of the lean-to, the cloak swirling softly around me as I slung the bow over my shoulder. The forest was alive with the sounds of night—chirping crickets, the faint rustle of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl.

Nocking one of the new arrows, I drew the bowstring and stared into the trees. The world seemed sharper now, more vibrant, as if I could feel every movement in the forest.

With my newfound skills, weapons, and perks, I wasn’t just surviving anymore. I was thriving.

“Alright,” I murmured, my voice quiet but steady. “Let’s see what else this world has for me.”

And with that, I disappeared into the shadows.