“Alright, meet us here after lunch,” the village chief said, handing Boris a few coins as the workers began unloading the carriage.

  Boris turned to Kana. “Let’s hit the bowmaker first.”

  Kana nodded, scanning the streets as they walked. The stone roads were cracked in places, and narrow alleys split off like veins through the district.

  “So? First time here—what do you think?” Boris asked, clearly expecting awe.

  Kana shrugged. “Looks okay.”

  “Okay?” Boris repeated, nearly tripping over his own feet. “That’s it? Just okay?”

  Kana smirked but didn’t elaborate.

  They turned a corner, passing a pair of blacksmiths hammering at glowing steel. The clangs echoed down the lane, followed by a hiss of steam and the scent of burning metal. At the end of the street sat a small shop with bows hanging in neat rows along the wall—shortbows, recurves, longbows, even a few crossbows tucked into the back.

  “This is the only bowmaker in town—” Boris paused, correcting himself. “I mean, the best.”

  As they stepped inside, a gruff voice met them. “What can I do for you young folks?” The speaker was a barrel-chested man with soot-streaked arms and a thick beard that looked like it could sand wood.

  “My friend here needs a new bow,” Boris said. “She snapped her last one. Bit clumsy.”

  Kana rolled her eyes and smacked the back of his head, then turned to the man. “I want a longbow. Made of Auroch horn.”

  The man raised an eyebrow. “Name’s Greg. I own the place—and yeah, I make every bow myself. You were using a practice bow before?”

  Kana nodded.

  Greg grunted, stepping toward a tall rack near the back. “Auroch horn longbow’s a different beast. Stiffer draw, heavier pull. You need real strength or a class built for it. [Bowman], maybe [Scout]. Even I can’t pull it all the way, and I made the damn thing.”

  “I’m a [Ranger],” Kana said,. “Heard of it?”

  Greg tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Can’t say I have. You sure that’s a real class?”

  Boris stepped forward, eyes gleaming. “How about a wager, then? If I or she can pull the bowstring, we get it half off.”

  Greg let out a low chuckle. “You now? What’s your class?”

  “[Spearman],” Boris said with pride, straightening his back.

  That got a laugh from Greg. “[Spearman], huh? You do know this isn’t a spear, right?”

  “Deal or not?” Boris said, already rolling his shoulders.

  Greg rubbed his chin, then grinned. “Fine. But if neither of you manage it, I want a silver coin—enough for a good practice bow. Fair?”

  “Deal,” Boris said without hesitation.

  Kana groaned. “Are you serious? What if we lose?”

  “Relax,” Boris whispered. “I’m betting for myself, not for you. If I succeed, you owe me a reward coin later.”

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  “That’s not how that works!” Kana hissed—but Boris was already stepping up to the rack.

  ……

  The longbow was nearly as tall as Kana, its dark wood polished to a deep sheen, the horn tips glinting faintly in the shop light. The string was thick, braided tightly—nothing like the thin cord on her practice bow.

  Boris held it now, brow furrowed. He squared his stance, took a deep breath, and gripped the bow like he meant to snap it. Veins stood out on his arms as he strained, his face turning red. The string barely moved.

  “It’s just a string,” Boris grunted. “Why can’t I pull it?”

  Greg chuckled, arms crossed. “Told you. A [Bowman] might not lift a spear, but they’ll draw a bowstring like it’s nothing. It’s about class compatibility—your instincts, even muscle memory shift to suit your weapon. Kingdoms and the Empire have been researching this for decades.”

  Boris groaned and handed the bow to Kana, his arms limp. “I surrender.”

  The moment Kana touched it, something clicked. The weight, the balance—it felt right. She knew without testing it: this bow belonged in her hands.

  She stepped back, planting her feet properly. Unlike Boris, she drew in a steady breath and closed her eyes, imagining a target in front of her. A shadowy goblin in quite a distance. She pictured it moving—then stilled it in her mind.

  Kana exhaled. Slowly, deliberately, she pulled the string all the way. It resisted, taut and heavy—but she felt it yield under her control. With one final pull, the string reached full draw. A sharp twack rang through the shop as it locked into place.

  Greg blinked. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “She did it!” Boris shouted, jumping up beside her. “You saw that! You have to give us the discount.”

  Greg didn’t argue. Instead, he chuckled again, this time with more respect. “A promise is a promise. And I learned something new today.” He scribbled a note onto a chalkboard behind the counter:

  Ranger– Bow Compatible.

  “Not making that bet again.”

  Boris eyed Kana’s arms. “How did you pull that with your tiny sticks-for-arms?”

  Kana smirked. “Class compatibility, remember? You still don’t understand it do you?”

  She handed over four silver coins, the exact half-price. The rest, she’d return to her mother.

  ………

  As Kana and Boris made their way back through the blacksmith street, one shop caught her eye.

  Daggers lined the front window—sleek, curved, double-edged, and straight. Each blade seemed to whisper, Hold me. She stopped.

  Boris followed her gaze. “What now? Wanna check that out?”

  Kana nodded.

  The door creaked as they entered. A man with soot-darkened arms and a chisel-sharp beard looked up from the counter.

  “Welcome,” he said. “New Awakened, huh?”

  Kana’s eyes scanned the display. One dagger in particular stood out—a steel blade with a bone handle. She reached for it, held it up to the light, then tossed it gently into the air. It spun, a clean rotation, before she caught it by the hilt. She flipped it to her other hand, fingers moving with uncanny familiarity.

  Boris’s eyes widened. He took a cautious step back. “When did you learn that?”

  Kana didn’t answer, just gave him a sly grin.

  Ruff, the shopkeeper, whistled. “That’s not just instinct. You’ve got a blade-born hand. [Thief]? [Rogue]?”

  Kana shrugged, still spinning the dagger between her fingers. “Something like that.”

  “How much for this one?” she asked.

  “That? Fifty silvers. One of my best—balanced, tempered, good grip. Worth every coin,” Ruff said.

  Kana winced. “That’s… more than I have.”

  Ruff nodded, then reached under the counter. “If you’re just starting out, I’ve got something more practical. Not as pretty, but sharp enough—will dull after a hundred or so strikes on hard targets.”

  He placed a plain dagger on the counter. Still steel, still sharp, but clearly meant for training.

  “Two silver coins,” he said.

  “I’ll take it.” Kana handed over the coins without hesitation.

  Earlier, she’d bought a dozen high-quality arrows for fifty copper coins. Now, counting the dagger, she only had one silver and fifty copper coins left.

  She felt a twinge of guilt.

  Will Mom be mad?

  Maybe. But Kana figured it was a worthy investment.