The Hunter description kept tugging at the same sentence.
[PANEL] Hunter (devotee of the Goddess of the Hunt)
• Tracker, trap master, beast-tamer.
• Boosts: Agility, Spirit.
• A lone wolf—can rise even without a team.
Even alone.
Ethan liked that more than he wanted to admit.
Teams mattered in a world like this—sure. But dependence was a slow kind of suicide.
He’d survived a zombie apocalypse once. He’d watched ‘allies’ turn into burdens, and burdens turn into graves.
If he wanted to live, he needed his fate in his own hands.
Still, he forced himself to read the other options again, slower this time.
Judicators wielded holy judgment and could resist corruption.
Weavecaster types could lock enemies down from range—powerful, but fragile.
Dawncallers were healers, and healers were priceless… but that kind of role tied you to other people’s decisions.
Dreamwardens bent minds and borrowed strength from nature.
Soulreavers walked with shadows and taboos until the taboos bit back.
Infiltrators… were the kind of class that ended fights before they started.
Useful classes. Dangerous classes.
The system, however, wasn’t asking which class sounded coolest.
It was asking which one matched what he already had.
A Tier‑2 Relic. Flint.
Knowledge he’d already fished up—Hunter lore.
And a life that didn’t allow for hesitation.
“So what am I doing?” he muttered, half laugh, half curse.
Ethan placed the black revolver on his palm.
Flint looked like a weapon from another century—clean lines, matte metal, a weight that felt too real to be ‘loot.’
He tightened his grip, focused his mind, and made the choice out loud—because this world rewarded commitment.
“I choose to Awaken as a Hunter.”
The answer detonated in his skull.
A silent boom. Not sound—certainty.
The world rushed in.
Wind whispering through unseen leaves.
The scrape of grass under paw and boot.
The frantic tremor of insects in flight.
The distant, heavy cadence of a beast moving through brush.
Ethan’s eyes were open, but he wasn’t in his room anymore.
Images flickered across his vision like a dream stitched from scent and instinct—tracks over mud, a broken twig, a smear of fur on bark, the angle of moonlight on wet stone.
He held on until the surge passed.
When the church returned, it felt… sharper. Cleaner. Like someone had turned the contrast up on reality.
He opened his status panel with a thought.
[PANEL]
Name: Ethan Vale
Race: αK49 Blue Star / Human
Identity: Shipwrecked student from the Eastern Isles; sole survivor of the Explorer
Tier: 1 (Hunter; invitation received from the Stranger in the Shadows)
Talents:
• SSS-Rank Infinite Fishing (Evolution: Rodless Fishing)
• F- Rank Stamina Boost +8%
• D+ Rank Spirit Boost +38%
• C+ Rank Agility Boost +48%
• F+ Rank Strength Boost +13%
Class: Hunter
Awakened Abilities: Wind Arrow, Cheetah’s Foot
Relic Abilities: Pierce, Ignite
Faction: Unchosen
Knowledge: Hunter’s Lore, Poison Identification
The numbers didn’t lie. His body felt different—lighter in motion, steadier in breath, and weirdly alert.
He focused on the four skills. Unlike the fuzzy, instinctive way his new senses worked, the system translated abilities into cold math.
[SKILL] Wind Arrow—When using ranged weapons (bows, crossbows, pistols), hit chance +40%.
[SKILL] Cheetah’s Foot—Evasion chance +10%.
[RELIC SKILL] Pierce (Rank I)—10% chance to punch through prey and widen the wound. (Source: partially fused Relic “Flint”.)
[RELIC SKILL] Ignite (Rank I)—10% chance to set prey on fire. (Source: partially fused Relic “Flint”.)
Ethan read the parenthetical twice.
Partially fused.
So even with a Tier‑2 Relic in his hand, he hadn’t ‘finished’ it. Not yet.
And that, apparently, was why the Relic skills were still stuck at Rank I.
Which raised the obvious next question.
How did you fuse a Relic the rest of the way?
The system didn’t keep him guessing for long.
[QUEST] New Quest Triggered: Relic Fusion.