Chương 48: Chapter 030 The Pocket Mage (Part 2)

A minute later, he was heading down the corridor towards Training Room 13, a small brass token in hand, and his white oak bow slung over one shoulder. The corridor hissed with occasional puffs of spent aether-steam, the blue vapour curling near the brass floor grates and vanishing into ceiling vents. He turned the corner and saw them, a group of five, all with bows on their shoulders, waiting outside the room.

A couple looked a few years older than him, one boy looked around the same age as Polly, and the others perhaps in their early twenties. One girl wore patched leather greaves, another had a quiver decorated with simple hand-painted vines. I hope they're friendly, Jack thought, taking a steadying breath as he looked at the mixed group. Hmm… there are five of them, not four? He'd not had a good time with adventurers in his first life. As he approached, he caught part of their conversation.

"…lley at the back of Ron's," a teenage girl dressed in brown leather armour was saying.

"Burnt to a crisp by a Master Mage, is what I heard." Jack's foot hovered mid-step. Shit. Are they talking about me?

"You 'ere for the archery room?" a short young man carrying a longbow asked, breaking Jack's rising panic.

"Erm… yeah," Jack replied, showing them his brass token. He glanced at the display on the door. Training R oom 13. Booked until 1 2: 46 p m. Please collect any valuables before leaving. The Adventurers Guild is NOT responsible for any injuries or lost property. Session ends in 3 minutes. The youngest of the group, a boy around fourteen, looked relieved. He went to the door console and paid his fee. Training rooms could be booked in the main Guild hall or at the door.

Was he waiting to see if more would join, Jack mused. Probably low on coin.

"Thank the Gods," another girl said, exhaling.

"I'm so low on coin. I need every copper I can save."

"You're such a copper-pincher," the young man who spoke earlier teased.

"You'll only get 1 copper refunded."

"It's 2 coppers, actually." She nodded towards the boy who had just paid at the door's console.

"Yeah, drinks are on you then," the young man joked.

"I wish," the other young woman said.

"She still owes me for last time." Jack smiled as the tension eased. He was right; adding another person only shaved off a single copper from each share, but it made a difference for those on tight budgets.

"Are you an archer?" a young man with dusky skin and faint elven features asked Jack. It was hard to tell his age. He could be sixteen or over thirty. Jack shook his head.

"No, Novice Scribe. Just taking up archery for fitness… and protection." The young man nodded.

"Same here. Apprentice Merchant." He patted the bow slung over his shoulder.

"Travelling outside the city's not safe these days. My merchant group lost an entire caravan to goblins. Only two survivors." Jack nodded in understanding. He'd had a few close calls in his past life when travelling between cities and towns. He remembered too well the dangers of the roads, bandits, beasts, goblins, and worse. Fortunately, he'd never had to actually fight, but he'd seen guards and adventurers in action. The young man extended his hand.

"Graham. My friends call me Grey." Jack returned the handshake.

"Jack. I'll let you know what my friends call me when I have some." He grinned. Laughter rippled through the group, and the others introduced themselves one by one to Jack: Ella, Novice Archer, who booked the training room; Nessa, Novice Archer with muscular arms; Pip, a cheeky-faced Apprentice Stable Hand who looked far too small to be carrying a longbow; And Toma, a fourteen-year-old farmer's son who wanted to be an archer in the King's Army.

Ella, the Novice Archer who booked the room, asked, "Is everyone good with having the room set to Novice Archer, level one, beginner level one?" Jack shrugged.

"I'm fine with varying wind and lights." He knew the higher settings only affected the wind and light settings. The remaining options were user-specific; each of them could set their targets to move faster or even fire back. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Most of the others nodded. In a nervous voice, Toma asked, "It's my first time. Will I be okay?" Ella smiled.

"You'll be fine. The main settings only change the wind and lights. You can set your targets to remain still." Toma nodded and looked relieved.

"We should start on beginner level ten; it's brutal." Nessa grinned.

"I got 16% accuracy last time. My shoulder was sore for days." She rubbed her right shoulder.

"Yeah, let's throw the kid in at the deep end and put him off archery for good." Ella patted Toma on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." Toma gave a nervous smile. Jack glanced at Toma. The boy's clothes looked old and patched. His bow was made from a single piece of wood and had a rough finish. Did he make it himself? He looked for the boy's quiver, but he didn't have one. No quiver. Probably doesn't have the skill to make arrows yet. Many commoners fashioned their own bows from local yew trees. Though low-quality, it wouldn't stop the system from offering the teenager the archer class when he turned sixteen.

"I nearly got hit by an aether-blast last week." Pip smiled.

"It singed me fringe!" Jack chuckled.

"That's the fun part. Those blasts are a menace… they'll take your hair right off." They all laughed; Pip had a shaved head. As they joked and laughed, the heavy door to Training Room 13 opened with a clunk of gears and a puff of blue spent aether-steam. Three sweaty, red-faced men emerged, each with bows slung over their backs and grins on their faces.

"You're up," one of them said, nodding to the group.

"Room's still warm. Have fun, kids."

"Thanks." Grey led the group into Training Room 13. Training Room 13 was the same as the day before. Long and narrow, with reinforced walls of riveted metal and wood, and the faint, lingering scent of sweat and spent aether-steam. Blue aether-light flickered along the floor filigree, activating as they entered. The air stirred, faint gusts of wind simulating mild weather conditions. Jack smiled. I can't believe I'm excited for archery practice.

After all the pain, he never thought he could enjoy training for a combat class, but here he was, eager to train. While the six of them were waiting outside, they'd decided which training lane each should occupy. They were to be ordered from least trained on the left to most trained on the right. The order was Toma on the far left, followed by Jack, Pip, Grey, Nessa, and Ella on the far right. This way, the training room could modify the wind and lights to match their level of experience.

Toma would be subjected to the least wind, while Ella would be subjected to the most, assuming the individuals selected appropriate training levels. They each found their places while the familiar aether-powered console clicked to life, the soft brass-voiced female announcer chiming in: Welcome, adventurers. Mechanical targeting range engaged. Safety protocols active. Please state your class and level. One by one, they responded to the console.

"Novice Archer, level nine," replied Ella. Jack recalled an archer levelling speed table from a book. She's been an archer for just over half a year. The soft voice acknowledged her answer: Adventurer one. Novice Archer, level nine. Please prepare your weapon.

"Novice Archer, level seven," replied Nessa. The soft voice acknowledged her answer: Adventurer two. Novice Archer, level seven. Please prepare your weapon.

"Apprentice Merchant, level two," replied Grey. The soft voice acknowledged his answer: Adventurer three. Apprentice Merchant, level two. Please prepare your weapon.

"Apprentice Stable Hand, level zero," replied Pip. The soft voice acknowledged his answer: Adventurer four. Apprentice Stable Hand, level zero. Please prepare your weapon. When it was Jack's turn, he lied, "Novice Scribe. Level zero." The soft voice acknowledged his answer: Adventurer five. Novice Scribe, Level zero. Please prepare your weapon. They all waited for Toma to reply.

"What do I say?" The boy looked confused. Jack responded, "Say non-classed."

"Non-classed?" Toma repeated. The soft voice acknowledged his answer: Adventurer six. Non-classed. Please prepare your weapon. With a chorus of hisses and thunks, targets rose from the far wall, and the room hummed with energy. Quivers of practice arrows lined the back bench, each arrow inscribed with durability runes. Training bows of various sizes were available, though most used their own. Toma stood looking at the training bows with his own bow in his hand.

Jack smiled as he watched the boy decide whether to use his own bow or one of the better-quality training bows. It was a difficult decision. Use his own bow and get used to its failings, or when training at the Guild, use a higher-quality bow. Jack knew a lot about bows; he'd read plenty of books on them and knew the best bow for the boy.

"Toma!" The boy jumped.

"Use that bow there." He pointed at a small bow labelled as 20lb.

"It should be a good poundage for your age and size. If you find it too much, try the eighteen-pound bow next to it." Toma nodded and gave him a grateful smile before collecting the 20lb bow.

"System. Set training room to Novice Archer, level one. Beginner level one," Ella said.

"Set my area to Novice Archer, level nine. Beginner level one." The Guild System acknowledged the commands. Near Ella, the breeze in the training room increased; there were random gusts like the wind couldn't decide if it was a calm day or a windy one. The lights dulled on the right side of the training room while remaining bright near Toma and Jack on the left. Other than Toma, the others modified their individual lane settings to match their needs. Jack set his lane to Novice Scribe, level zero.

Beginner level two. Toma left his settings at Non-classed, level zero. Beginner level zero, the lowest setting. They each grabbed a quiver of training arrows, spread out across the range, and prepared to shoot. Jack checked that his looted arm guards were secure before stretching out his shoulders. His muscles still ached from the previous day's training, but he was excited. He did a few quick warm-up stretches. The female voice returned: Begin when ready.

As the targets stayed still or moved, the six archers raised their bows in near unison. Arrows loosed. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack…