Endo spent the next few days engrossed in his newly unlocked Crafter job. The interface had provided a variety of recipes, but the real excitement came from experimenting beyond the listed options. Every arrow he created now carried his signature: bone tips that penetrated deeper, sinew bindings that increased durability, and shafts reinforced with a blend of hardened wood and sap. His fire arrows were now more efficient, with moss bundles that burned brighter and longer, and he had even created a few experimental poison-coated arrows using venomous plants he had foraged.

His efforts didn’t go unnoticed by the system. While fletching a batch of reinforced arrows one evening, a new notification appeared:

“Skill Progression Unlocked: Archer Class Available. Accept?”

Endo blinked at the message. The Archer class had been vaguely mentioned in the forums he skimmed before starting the game. Most players unlocked it through quests or by reaching a specific level threshold, but here it was, offered to him after days of dedicated bow use.

Without hesitation, he accepted.

A rush of information flooded his mind:

“Archer Class Skills Unlocked:

• Improved Aim: Temporarily increases accuracy and damage with ranged weapons.

• Long Shot: Fires a single arrow with increased range and power, capable of piercing weaker obstacles.

• Quick Draw: Reduces the time required to nock an arrow, improving attack speed.”

The skills were intuitive and felt like a natural extension of his combat style. He tested them out immediately, shooting at makeshift targets he had set up around his campsite. Improved Aim caused the world to sharpen and slow slightly, as if his focus had heightened beyond human ability. Each arrow struck its mark with pinpoint precision. Long Shot, on the other hand, left him stunned—he could send an arrow sailing cleanly through thick tree bark, leaving a trail of vibrating air in its wake.

His practice was interrupted by a commotion in the distance—a series of guttural shouts and shrill cries. Endo crouched low, his hand instinctively reaching for his bow. Peering through the trees, he saw the source: a group of goblins, three in total, dragging a struggling deer carcass.

Goblins were a common threat in Aethera’s forests, but this was the first time Endo had encountered them directly. They were small, wiry creatures with green skin and sharp, jagged teeth. The trio was armed with crude weapons—a rusted dagger, a wooden club, and a makeshift spear.

Endo debated retreating. The goblins hadn’t seen him yet, and he wasn’t eager to take unnecessary risks. But then he noticed something else—a small wooden crate slung on the back of one goblin, marked with the emblem of a nearby village. It wasn’t just a hunt; the goblins had likely raided a supply cart.

He couldn’t ignore that.

Endo positioned himself upwind, climbing a low ridge for a better vantage point. Drawing an arrow, he activated Improved Aim. His vision sharpened, and the goblins’ movements slowed slightly. He took a deep breath, steadying his hand, and loosed the arrow.

The projectile flew true, striking the goblin with the dagger square in the chest. It let out a choked cry before collapsing. The remaining goblins reacted immediately, dropping the deer and looking around wildly. Endo nocked another arrow, but the goblins had already ducked behind nearby rocks and trees for cover.

He clicked his tongue in frustration. They were more coordinated than he had expected. One goblin let out a sharp whistle, and a moment later, two more goblins emerged from the shadows, armed with short bows.

Endo cursed under his breath. He was now outnumbered, and the addition of ranged attackers complicated things. He activated Long Shot, drawing his bowstring back as far as it would go. His target was the nearest archer goblin, partially obscured by a boulder. Releasing the arrow, he watched as it arced high before slamming into the goblin’s shoulder, sending it sprawling to the ground.

The second archer goblin retaliated, loosing an arrow that whizzed past Endo’s head. He ducked behind a tree, his heart pounding. The goblins were advancing cautiously, their weapons raised.

Endo’s mind raced. He needed to regain the upper hand. Reaching into his quiver, he pulled out one of his fire arrows. Using his flint, he ignited the tip and quickly took aim at a patch of dry grass near the goblins’ feet. The flaming arrow hit its mark, and the grass erupted into a small blaze.

The goblins panicked, their formation breaking as they scrambled to avoid the spreading fire. Seizing the opportunity, Endo activated Quick Draw, nocking and releasing arrows in rapid succession. Two goblins fell before they could regroup.

The last goblin, the one with the crate, snarled and charged at him with its spear. Endo rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the thrust. He reached for his last poison arrow and quickly nocked it. As the goblin lunged again, Endo sidestepped and fired point-blank. The arrow buried itself in the goblin’s neck, and the creature collapsed, clutching at the wound.

Endo stood still for a moment, his bow lowered, as the forest fell silent once more.

When he was certain the area was clear, he approached the goblins’ remains, carefully retrieving any unbroken arrows. The crate they had carried was indeed marked with the emblem of a nearby village. Opening it, he found a mix of basic supplies—dried meats, cloth, and tools.

He hesitated. Returning the crate would mean venturing into a village and interacting with NPCs, something he had avoided thus far. But the thought of leaving the stolen goods to rot in the forest didn’t sit well with him.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

With a sigh, he hoisted the crate onto his back and began the trek toward the village.

The journey took most of the afternoon. The village, nestled at the edge of the forest, was a small but bustling community. Endo approached cautiously, his hood pulled low over his face. As he entered, a group of villagers noticed the crate and rushed toward him.

“Those are our supplies!” one of them exclaimed, relief evident in their voice.

Endo set the crate down without a word, his eyes scanning the villagers for any sign of hostility. Instead, they seemed genuinely grateful.

“Thank you, traveler,” an older man said, stepping forward. “Those goblins have been harassing us for weeks. We’ve lost so much already.”

The man pressed a small pouch of coins into Endo’s hand. Before Endo could refuse, another notification appeared in his vision:

“Reputation Increased: Village of Clearwater (Friendly).”

The villagers invited him to stay and rest, but Endo declined, retreating back into the forest as soon as he could. Social interaction, even with NPCs, wasn’t his strong suit.

Back at his campsite, he reflected on the events of the day. The fight with the goblins had been a challenge, but it had also shown him the potential of his new abilities. The combination of his Crafter skills and Archer class made him more versatile than ever, capable of adapting to any situation.

As he sat by the fire, fletching another batch of arrows, his thoughts turned to the future. Aethera was vast, and he had only scratched the surface of what it had to offer. With his growing skills and newfound confidence, he felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.

The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across his campsite. Endo leaned back against a tree, his bow resting beside him, and allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.

Tomorrow, he would venture further into the unknown.

Endo spent the next few days immersed in his Crafter job. Every arrow was a new experiment: fire arrows that burned brighter and faster, poison arrows that lingered with effects for longer, and reinforced bone arrows with tips sharper than anything store-bought. The process of crafting had become second nature, a rhythm of gathering, fletching, and testing that brought him closer to mastering both his tools and his role in this world.

The notification to unlock the Archer Class had been unexpected but welcome. Its new skills added precision and versatility to his fighting style, and Endo was eager to test them in real combat.

That chance arrived sooner than expected.

While exploring deeper into the woods, he stumbled across a small clearing. In its center, a pack of goblins was huddled around a crude firepit. There were five of them, their sharp-toothed faces illuminated in the firelight. They had a few weapons—rusty daggers, a bow, and spears—but what drew Endo’s attention was the wooden crate sitting near them. Its markings were familiar, bearing the emblem of a nearby village.

Endo crouched in the shadows, assessing the situation. The goblins were smaller than him, but their numbers and weapons made them a dangerous threat. He didn’t want to charge in recklessly, but retreating didn’t sit well with him either. The villagers deserved to have their goods returned, and frankly, Endo wanted the challenge.

He studied the clearing and the materials he had on hand. A plan began to form, unorthodox and risky, but it would play to his strengths.

The first step was creating a distraction.

Endo quietly crept along the perimeter of the clearing, gathering dry branches and fallen leaves. Using his flint, he ignited a small bundle and tossed it into the underbrush opposite his position. The fire caught quickly, sending smoke curling into the air. The goblins reacted immediately, jumping to their feet and barking at each other in their guttural language.

As two of them rushed to investigate the source of the smoke, Endo moved into position.

He activated Improved Aim and targeted the goblin archer. His first shot struck its shoulder, causing it to drop its bow with a screech. Before the others could react, Endo loosed another arrow at the goblin nearest to the crate, grazing its leg.

The clearing erupted into chaos.

The goblins abandoned their firepit, scrambling for their weapons. Endo didn’t wait for them to regroup. He retreated deeper into the trees, leading them away from the crate. As the goblins gave chase, he activated Quick Draw, firing arrows as he ran. One struck a goblin in the thigh, slowing its pursuit, while another arrow sailed harmlessly into the bushes.

He reached a narrow section of the forest, where he had already prepared his next trap: a tripwire made from vines stretched between two trees. Endo vaulted over it, spinning midair to fire a shot at the closest goblin. The creature snarled as it barreled toward him—only to trip and crash face-first into the dirt.

Endo didn’t have time to celebrate. The remaining goblins were closing in, and he could hear the distinct twang of an arrow being fired. He barely ducked in time; the projectile grazed his upper arm, leaving a stinging cut.

Gritting his teeth, Endo pushed forward, weaving through the trees. He spotted an overhanging branch thick enough to support his weight and scrambled up it, using his bow to hook onto a knot in the wood for leverage.

From his elevated position, he surveyed the goblins below. They were confused, scanning the area for their prey. Endo took a deep breath, nocked a fire arrow, and aimed for the forest floor. He chose a spot where dry leaves and twigs had gathered, creating a natural tinder pile.

The fire ignited instantly, spreading rapidly and forcing the goblins to scatter. Two of them ran directly beneath Endo’s perch. He dropped down, landing on one goblin with enough force to knock it unconscious. The other swung its rusty dagger at him, slicing a shallow cut across his side. Endo hissed in pain but countered with a bone arrow to the goblin’s chest.

The last goblin—a spear-wielder—charged at him with a furious roar. Endo grabbed a handful of dirt and flung it into the goblin’s face, temporarily blinding it. As the goblin stumbled, Endo used Long Shot, drawing his bowstring to its limit and firing at point-blank range. The arrow pierced through the goblin’s armor, and it collapsed with a gurgling cry.

Endo sat heavily against a tree, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The adrenaline was fading, and the pain of his injuries was beginning to set in. The cut on his arm wasn’t deep, but the one on his side bled steadily, staining his shirt.

He tore a strip of cloth from his sleeve and wrapped it tightly around the wound, wincing at the sting. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it would hold for now.

Gathering the stolen crate, he made his way toward the village. Each step was a reminder of his battered state, and by the time he reached the outskirts, he was limping slightly.

The villagers were overjoyed to see their supplies returned.

“Those goblins have been terrorizing us for weeks,” said the village elder, a kind-faced woman with silver hair. “You’ve done us a great service.”

Endo tried to wave off their gratitude, but his pale face and unsteady stance didn’t go unnoticed.

“You’re hurt!” one of the merchants exclaimed, rushing to his side.

“I’ll be fine,” Endo muttered, though he wasn’t entirely sure of that himself.

“Nonsense. Sit down, and let us help.”

Despite his reluctance, Endo allowed them to tend to his wounds. The merchant produced a small vial of healing salve and applied it to his side, the cool sensation immediately numbing the pain. A bandage was wrapped expertly around the cut, and his arm was treated with equal care.

“You should consider learning basic healing,” the elder advised. “Potions, spells, even knowing which herbs to use can save your life out there.”

Endo nodded, though he remained silent. The idea had already crossed his mind during the fight. His Crafter skills might allow him to create healing potions, or perhaps he could explore the game’s magic system. Either way, he knew he couldn’t rely on others to patch him up every time he got hurt.

The villagers offered him a pouch of coins as thanks, but Endo shook his head. “Keep it. Use it to rebuild.”

Their gratitude was worth more to him than money.

That night, back at his campsite, Endo reflected on the day’s events. The fight with the goblins had been messy, and his injuries were a stark reminder of his limitations. But it had also shown him the power of creativity and adaptability.

He leaned back against a tree, the flickering firelight casting long shadows across the forest floor. The wounds throbbed faintly under their bandages, but they were a badge of his progress—a reminder that he was no longer just surviving in Aethera.

He was growing, learning, and thriving.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would begin exploring the possibilities of healing. Whether it was through potions or magic, he would find a way to ensure that he never had to rely on luck—or others—for survival again.

For now, though, he let himself rest, his bow resting within arm’s reach.