Chương 14: Chapter 009 The Archer And The Scribe

Jack stared at his class and skills list in shock. The words blurred for a second and then came back into focus.

"No, this can't be right. How?" [Class Screen-Internal View] Class: Novice Archer (0) Compatibility: 23% Novice Primary Skills —Silent Shot (0) —True Aim (0) —Piercing Arrow (0) —Eagle Eye (0) —Bowyer's Craft (0) —Fletcher's Precision (0) As expected, he had the standard Novice Archer class and skills, all at level 0. Other secondary archery skills, like [Quick Nock], [Silent Step], [Disarming Shot], would have to be learnt and practised over time. Time he didn't have.

Sadly, he had a very low Class Compatibility score of only 23% due to his lack of fitness and archery training prior to reaching sixteen. This would hamper his archery progress in the short term, but with the right sort of training, the percentage would increase fast. He expected to see only archer; that's what he'd chosen, after all. But what surprised him was that his scribe class and skills were also listed.

[Class Screen-Internal View] Class: Apprentice Scribe (49) Compatibility: 70% Novice Primary Skills —Copy Text (5) —Translate Text (5) —Draughtsmanship (6) —Bind Book (5) —Restoration (4) Novice Secondary Skills —Calligraphy (5) —Layout (4) —Emboss Text (4) —Cartography (4) —Cataloguing (5) —Wax Sealing (3) —Ink Preparation (3) —Parchment Preparation (3) —Watermarking (3) —Contracts (3) —Margin Notation (5) —Ink Weatherproofing (3) —Micro-Script (4) —Leather Working (3) —Illuminated Script (2) —Gold Leaf (2) Apprentice Primary Skills —Perfect Recall (5) —Create Cypher/Decipher (4) —Inscribe Spell (5) —Scribe's Ear (3) —Glyph of Obfuscation (5) Apprentice Secondary Skills —Living Margins (2) —Lexomancy (3) —Seal of Silence (3) —Explosive Ink (2) —Echo Writing (2) —Dream Journaling (3) —Astral Notation (2) Jack had retained all his Primary and Secondary Scribe Skills and twenty-five years of experience from his first life.

He was still a level 49 Apprentice Scribe, just 1 level away from Journeyman Scribe and a new set of skills.

"Why? I-I'm still a scribe," Jack whispered. Relief flooded his body as he realised what this meant.

"I can still work with Dad." Even his Class Compatibility score had recovered to its original higher percentage. In fact, it was a couple of percentage points higher than his first time around. He shook his head in confusion. Nothing makes sense. In his first life, the damage to his right hand, one of his eyes, and lungs—and twenty years of alcohol abuse—resulted in his original Class Compatibility score of 68% dropping to 43%. It had been even lower at one point.

After reducing the time he spent in taverns to concentrate on preparing for his revenge, the score recovered partially. The Fates had smiled on him. All the disappointment at having to choose a combat class faded away. I'm still a scribe. This changes everything. Jack looked at the marble statue, smiled, and thanked the Goddess Demeter again.

"Thank you so much. I-I swear by the Gods I won't waste this life." He turned away from the Choosing Stone and headed towards the temple exit while enjoying the birdsong. As he walked home through the capital city, he reevaluated his plans. I can work as a scribe while also training as an archer. He smiled at a young couple who walked together hand in hand. I can have a good life as a scribe with Jasmin, and seek justice against the Baron; I can have it all. He was already devising multiple plans of action.

He planned to send an anonymous letter detailing the blood cult's activities to the Inquisition. If that failed, he'd work as a scribe under his father; however, this time, when Greaves tasked his father to decipher the book of spells on blood magic, he'd convince his dad to take the first few translated pages to either the head of the Royal Library or the Inquisition, bypassing the Baron's mind control skill.

Over the next four years, he'd train his archery skills and, if necessary, seek revenge on the Baron before he killed his family. There were books dedicated to how to train for a specific class, with charts and tables explaining the relevance of Class Compatibility with hundreds of different skills. Jack recalled a page from a book, Path of the Bow, about archery skills he'd memorised. True Aim (0) Draw and hold a nocked arrow before letting loose a more accurate, faster, and powerful shot. 6.

0 seconds to activate the skill. Accuracy, Speed, and Power 5% above the Class Compatibility score. Jack smiled.

"I still have [Perfect Recall]." He frowned as he calculated how much power a [True Aim] empowered arrow would hold at level 0.

"Damn. That's not good. I only gain twenty-eight per cent compared to before." He smiled again. I'm still a scribe. He'd used the simple formula of adding his Class Compatibility percentage of 23% to the 5% offered by the skill at its base level. He'd need years of training, rune-enchanted arrows, and maybe divine intervention just to land a clean shot. At only 28% accuracy, his archery skills wouldn't qualify him to consistently hit a training dummy, let alone Greaves, who would be wearing rune-etched protections.

Jack thought of the few months he'd struggled to learn archery. Every moment was pain and frustration as his broken body refused to cooperate. I can train properly this time. I'll soon get to above 50% compatibility. Pausing by the edge of a fountain, he watched his reflection ripple in the water. For just a moment, he saw both his new and old reflection. On one side, the present, a fresh-faced sixteen-year-old with a bright future ahead of them.

On the other side, his scarred visage from his forty-plus-year-old past self. He shook his head, and the image was replaced by his unscarred face.

"I'm not that man anymore," he whispered as he touched his face where it used to be scarred. If he didn't shape up, he'd fail to stop Greaves, and his family would die again. He needed his body to grow stronger over the next few years. Fifty per cent Class Compatibility wasn't the end goal; it was the minimum requirement. Jack continued on his way while giving a deep sigh.

"Looks like I'll be doing a lot of exercise." His father's words came to mind as he walked home: 'Compatibility's everything, Son. It encompasses a person's strength, agility, dexterity, intellect, state of health, and disabilities; everything in a single attribute. A swordsman with bad knees won't ever match a warrior who was born to fight. Even having a few bad nights of sleep or a bad hangover will temporarily decrease Class Compatibility.'

He was fourteen at the time, and his mom had added: 'And that's why smart boys like you don't go to taverns, Jack.' He smiled at the memory.

"I should've listened to Mom," he whispered while a feeling of regret washed over him. His soldier's heart had driven him to drink to drown out the nightmares and grief. Jack visualised the entire table of the [True Aim] skill from level 0 to level 10 and concentrated on the early levels. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Level 0 Time to activate: 6. 0 seconds Accuracy, Speed, and Power: 5% Level 1 Time to activate: 5.

5 seconds Accuracy, Speed, and Power: 10% Average practice time to reach level: 6 to 7 weeks Level 2 Time to activate: 5. 0 seconds Accuracy, Speed, and Power: 20%. Average practice time to reach level: 34 to 35 weeks Level 3 Time to activate: 4. 5 seconds Accuracy, Speed, and Power: 30% Average practice time to reach level: 2 years and 1 month Level 4 Time to activate: 4. 0 seconds Accuracy, Speed, and Power: 40% Average practice time to reach level: almost 10 years …

Jack chuckled as he remembered the author's sarcastic footnote: If you're reading level 10's requirements, best hope you have elven ancestry. The time required increased based on a complex formula, with each additional level taking longer than the previous one. In theory, it would take over 100 years to reach level 10; in practice, it would take far longer due to the archer suffering from lingering injuries and old age.

"I can get to level 3 before I have to deal with Greaves," he muttered to himself as he walked through the city.

"Hmm, if I can get Compatibility up to fifty per cent, my accuracy will be over eighty per cent. Sixty per cent Compatibility would be better, though." If the Inquisition did its job, he wouldn't need to kill Greaves. He imagined the noble hanging from the gallows along with the other eleven blood mages. Baron Greaves' high-quality boots dangled a few feet above the cobbled stone, his feet twitching as the life drained out of him.

As Jack approached his home, he spotted the two inquisitors and their guards exiting a property.

"Shit," he whispered as he had no choice but to carry on walking on the opposite side of the road to them. Don't notice me. Ignore me. I'm nobody important. His mind spiralled, knowing that if an inquisitor scanned him again, they might see his two classes. The male inquisitor glanced across the road at Jack, paused for a few moments, before continuing on his way. Jack sped across the road and entered the courtyard to his home. He leaned his back against the closed gate and breathed a sigh of relief.

He hid the dagger under his clothing and, despite the close call with the inquisitors, entered his home in a good mood. He smiled when he smelled his mom's cooking. His mother tended to cook more when worried.

"Is everything alright, Jack? You've been gone for hours." His mom said, noticing the dirt on his knees.

"What happened? Are you alright? Are you hurt? Do you need a priest or a healer?" Jack chuckled.

"Everything's fine. I just took a long walk to clear my head before choosing." He wiped some of the dirt from his knees that he'd picked up while he was inside Viscount Tides' compound.

"I tripped over a tree root, but it wasn't serious." Glancing at his younger sister, Polly, he offered a sly smile.

"The dirt should wash off easily." His mother gave him a mistrusting look but said nothing as she checked him for injuries. Polly stood with her hands on her hips.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" He already knew what she was asking about.

"Your class, you idiot." Polly sighed, "Are you a boring scribe now?"

"Scribes aren't boring!" He transitioned into lecture mode.

"We get to study ancient texts and unlock the secrets of the past from before the Great Cataclysm. Without great scribes, like grandfather, we'd be doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past." He pointed at Polly with the blood-red rose he still carried.

"It's far more exciting than being the Town Fool." Polly scoffed, "All I heard was scribes are boring, and you're a fool." Their mom smiled after picking up on the 'we' in his non-answer.

"You took the scribe class." She spun him around by the shoulders and looked into his eyes.

"Congratulations, Son. Your dad will be over the moon to have you follow in his and your grandfather's footsteps." She clapped her hands and gave him a big hug.

"Why do you smell of hay… and why do you have a rose?" His mother never missed anything; it was like living with a damn bloodhound. Jack frowned.

"I took a rest and sat on a pile of soft hay. An old lady left the rose in the temple, and I sort of, erm… forgot that I was still holding it." He would have to be more careful in the future. At least I hid the dagger; t hank the Gods she didn't pat me down. She gave him another mistrusting look.

"You should be careful where you sit. Your third cousin, Frank, fell asleep in a pile of hay and almost lost his foot when a horse sat on him." Jack smiled and held out the blood-red rose to his mom.

"A beautiful flower for a beautiful young woman who brightens our days with her warm smile," he said. One thing he'd discovered in his past life was that women loved compliments, even when they weren't completely genuine. His mother beamed and held the rose to her nose to savour its sweet aroma. The sound of Polly's loud scoff prompted her to give her a firm look that conveyed the unspoken message: 'I dare you to say anything to ruin this lovely moment.' Polly wisely remained silent, for once.

After a delicious meal and quality time with his family, he went to his room to hit the books. Jack opened the curtains and looked out onto the city. In the distance, he could see the two dirigibles protecting the city below. He activated one of his new archery skills, [Eagle Eye], and his view zoomed in on one of the bronze dirigibles.

"Wow!" He could now see a dozen young sky-knights flying around in formation. He tried to follow their flight path, but not being used to the skill, lost them and found himself looking out at a distant mountain.

"That's going to take some getting used to." Jack deactivated the skill and went back to his planned task. Despite having memorised the contents of thousands of books, his perfect memory for the written word was no replacement for holding and smelling a book.

"Where did I put that book?" He looked at the small bookshelf above his bed in dismay. Polly had stuffed his books back onto the shelf without the care they deserved. They were all higgledy-piggledy, with some sticking out willy-nilly.

"My poor books. What has she done to you?" Using his passive scribe skill [Cataloguing], Jack checked and sorted his books, arranging them as they should be.

"Damn, philistine. I'll have to get her back for this," he muttered with an evil smile. Every practical joke had to be reciprocated; it was sibling law. The first time, when Jack was sixteen, he found several spider egg sacs that he hid around his sister's room. He chuckled as he recalled Polly complaining that her room was filled with little spiders. A matter that their mother and father ignored until she developed a nervous tic.

The condition didn't subside until her father brought in a mage to cleanse her room, and her mother called a priest to exorcise the house. He retrieved an old, leather-bound book from his now-organised shelf and ran his fingers over its surface. Savouring the feel and aroma of the old leather, he read the title to himself: " How To Train The Most Commonly Selected Classes, by Viscount Lebrohn." He smiled before adding, "There you are, old friend."

He'd studied this book many times in his past life as he planned his revenge on Greaves. The book listed training advice for over 100 commonly selected classes, including archer. There were whole books dedicated to training the archer class. Jack had read and memorised several of them. But, for now, this general guide would suffice. He flicked through the book to the relevant section on archery training, read the introduction and jumped to the training advice. Basic Strength Training.

The following exercises will improve core strength and strengthen back and shoulder muscles. Push-ups, sit-ups, planking, and core rotations. Add weight where appropriate. These exercises improve shoulder muscles, core stability and help strengthen the muscles used for drawing the bow. He remembered the improvements these exercises had produced. Though, with scarred skin over his body—including his left arm and right hand—it meant the training was painful.

"It should be much easier this time," Jack whispered as he continued reading the section on basic strength training. It is advised to run a minimum of five miles every other day for general fitness. Through meticulous research, it was observed that a fit level 10 Novice Archer could run five miles in under thirty minutes. Although endurance per se isn't a primary factor for the archer class, the archers of the Kingdom of Mercia's army are expected to be capable of forced marching twenty miles in under five hours.

"I don't think so," Jack scoffed at the idea of running five miles a day or joining the army.

"Maybe I could jog a couple of miles every few days. Or perhaps once a week." He nodded.

"Yeah, that should be enough." Closing the book, he returned it to its rightful place. Without a bow, he'd be limited in how much he could practise, so for now, he'd concentrate on fitness and general strength training. He looked at the assassin's dagger he'd placed on the study table amongst the scrolls. Was it a mistake to buy the dagger? Now I've got no coin for a bow. Not having a solution to the lack of gold, he did a few stretches before starting on a basic training regimen.

With his young body not used to exercise, all he could manage was five push-ups, eight sit-ups, a couple of minutes twisting his body to exercise his core muscles and twenty seconds of planking. Planking was sheer hell.

"By the Gods, this will be harder than I thought. I need a break." He lay out of breath and aching on his mattress-free bed. S tupid little sister.