Adventurer of Many Professions

The border city of Somar loomed like a beacon of lawlessness, a massive urban sprawl where over half a million souls lived in uneasy coexistence. Unlike the well-ordered cities of the central kingdoms, Somar was a wild mix of adventurers, outcasts, and subhumans, a place where law and chaos blurred into one.

Here, murder, theft, and bloody street fights were as common as the morning sun. Even the local Knights stationed in the city dared not enforce too many rules, lest they incite a riot among the restless populace.

For the Black Wind Bandits, it was the perfect escape.

Once inside Somar's twisting alleys and overcrowded districts, the Knights of Wittes would struggle to track them down, let alone capture them.

Most importantly; Somar was a haven for selling stolen goods.

With its bustling black markets, underground merchants, and corrupt traders willing to buy anything at the right price, their latest haul would fetch a fortune.

The mere thought of it had the bandits grinning in anticipation.

But while the bandits dreamed of freedom and riches, a far deadlier force had already entered Sgla Forest under the cover of darkness.

Five figures moved silently among the trees, their presence as fleeting as the night breeze.

At the center of their formation, her emerald eyes glinting in the dim light, was a female elf.

This was the Swift Wind Adventure Team, the most prominent gold-ranked adventurer group in the town of Wittes, a team on the verge of reaching platinum rank.

Among them were:

Londo, the front-line warrior, leading the way through the dense foliage.

Tresed, another warrior, carrying a silver spear, walking at the rear with a look of mild irritation.

Shatinara, the female elf archer, renowned for her unparalleled accuracy.

Iffy, the team's priestess, wielder of divine blessings.

Mira, the magician, cloaked in a shimmering robe, her hands crackling with latent magic.

"Ugh, there are so many damn mosquitoes this late at night," Tresed grumbled, swatting at the air.

"Then walk slower and stop stepping on my feet," Shatinara snapped, glancing over her shoulder with narrowed eyes.

Clearly, this wasn't the first time.

Tresed let out a nervous chuckle. "I know, I know."

Then, with a mischievous smirk, he raised an eyebrow. "Shatinara, you sure you can shoot that wind eagle down? If you miss, we're going to look real stupid."

The elf scoffed, crossing her arms. "You humans are hopeless at long-range combat. But for me? With Iffy's 'Blessing of Strength', it'll be a piece of cake."

Her confidence was unshakable.

And for good reason.

The Knights of Wittes had attempted to corner and eliminate the Black Wind Bandits numerous times, only to fail, again and again.

After analyzing their past failures, they discovered the cause: the Wind Eagle.

This sharp-eyed aerial scout, controlled by Tom the Beast Tamer, had warned the bandits every time before the knights got too close.

The Knights' archers had tried to shoot it down, but the eagle flew too high. Even with divine blessings to boost their arrows, their projectiles lost power at that altitude, allowing the eagle to dodge effortlessly.

With no other options, the Knights turned to the Swift Wind Adventure Team.

If anyone could take down the Wind Eagle, it was Shatinara the Elf.

Now, they moved under the cover of night, their objective clear:

Kill the Wind Eagle.

Blind the Black Wind Bandits.

Let the Knights storm the forest before dawn.

Shatinara suddenly stopped, her pointed ears twitching.

Her gaze lifted toward a seemingly empty patch of sky, and she whispered, "Here."

Few knew that elves possessed superior night vision, allowing them to perceive what others could not.

As the group came to a halt, Iffy stepped forward, holding her ornate staff aloft.

"Blessing of Strength?" she asked.

Shatinara nodded. "Do it."

The priestess closed her eyes, her lips moving in a soft prayer. "Great Sun Goddess, grant me the power of blessing, so that even the weak may rise up and resist... Blessing of Strength!"

A soft golden glow enveloped Shatinara, infusing her with newfound power.

Her lithe frame tensed, her arms brimming with strength far beyond their normal limits.

She inhaled sharply, activating Hawkeye, a skill that granted her enhanced vision and unparalleled precision.

For an ordinary hunter, Hawkeye increased their accuracy range from 100 meters to 150 meters.

For an archer of Shatinara's caliber, it expanded from 200 meters to 300 meters.

But even that wouldn't be enough; because the Wind Eagle was soaring nearly a thousand meters above them.

And so, they waited.

The fate of the entire mission rested on a single shot.

Shatinara's emerald eyes gleamed as she adjusted her stance, her keen vision locking onto the Wind Eagle high above. She didn't need to predict its movements, she only needed to see it clearly, down to every feather and twitch of its wings.

Just as she reached for her bow, the priestess, Iffy, spoke up.

"Shatinara, pull the string slowly. Your strength has been enhanced, but your body hasn't adapted to it. If you draw too fast, you might strain or even dislocate your wrist."

The elf gave a dismissive wave. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

Iffy sighed, clasping her hands together. "If only the Goddess would grant me the 'Blessing of Courage' too… that would make things much easier."

Realizing her words bordered on blasphemy, she immediately straightened up and raised her hands in apology.

"Oh, great Sun Goddess, forgive my slip of tongue; I didn't mean to offend you!"

Shatinara, meanwhile, had already drawn an arrow unlike any other, its head crafted entirely from enchanted wood, and its tail adorned with two delicate green leaves instead of feathers.

A whisper of wind curled around the arrow's shaft as she nocked it, drawing the bowstring back with measured precision.

Her pupils contracted as she focused on the Wind Eagle, now just a faint silhouette against the night sky.

Break the wind.

Lock the enemy.

The incantation echoed in her mind, and at that moment, the longbow and arrow shimmered faintly, an unseen force gathering at the tip of the wooden arrow.

Then—

Bang!

The arrow exploded from the bowstring like a streak of light, slicing through the air at an impossible speed.

The Wind Eagle, high above, sensed the shift in the air.

It was sharp, experienced, it had evaded countless arrows before.

Just as the projectile neared, it instinctively twisted midair, its wings tilting gracefully, narrowly avoiding what should have been a direct hit.

A clean dodge.

But something was wrong.

The arrow; it changed direction.

Like a phantom guided by fate, it veered sharply in midair, its trajectory adjusting in an instant.

The Wind Eagle's golden eyes widened in realization.

Too fast.

Too sudden.

No time to react.

Swish!

The arrow pierced straight through its eye, burrowing into its brain.

The Wind Eagle let out a final, piercing shriek, its wings convulsing as it plummeted from the sky.

The cry echoed across the forest, carrying through the trees like a death knell.

Every bandit in the Black Wind Group heard it.

Every Knight waiting outside the Sgla Forest heard it.

And at that moment, the hunt began.

With their skyborne scout gone, the Black Wind Bandits were now blind.

The Knights, no longer fearing discovery, poured into the forest from all directions.

Their time had come.

---

Elsewhere…

Far away from the unfolding chaos in Sagla Forest, in the quiet utility room of a small alchemy shop, Raymond carefully examined a set of freshly brewed potions.

Five vials stood neatly on the wooden table, each filled with a shimmering blue liquid; Primary Mana Recovery Potions.

With a satisfied nod, he exhaled. "Done."

Across from him, Arya, his close friend and apprentice, let out a frustrated sigh.

"It's been half a month… why haven't the Knights caught those bandits yet?" she muttered, frowning.

Raymond glanced at her and smirked slightly. "Patience, Arya. According to Manak, reinforcements arrived yesterday, Knights from other towns, plus a golden-ranked adventurer team. It won't be long now."

Arya's eyes brightened with excitement. "Really? That's amazing!"

At first, Raymond assumed she was simply happy about the bandits being dealt with, after all, a safer town meant more business for their alchemy shop.

But then he noticed her expression shift.

There was something else on her mind.

"Arya?" He leaned forward slightly. "What's wrong?"

She hesitated for a moment before lowering her gaze.

Then, softly, she whispered—"Raymond… I'll be fifteen tomorrow."

Raymond blinked, then suddenly realized.
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Tomorrow was Arya's birthday.

Which meant—

Tomorrow was her awakening ceremony.

The awakening ceremony was a sacred rite of passage, held at the temple for all fifteen-year-olds.

It was the day they would discover whether they had a magical affinity, and if so, what profession they could awaken into.

Arya's heart pounded with nerves.

Because if she couldn't awaken, if her magic affinity was below 0.5, then—

She would remain a commoner forever.

No magic.

No warrior skills.

No future in the adventurer's guild.

Just… ordinary.