By around 9 a.m., a sudden spark flashed through Leo's mind—and at the same time, a wave of warmth swept across his body. It wasn't as intense as the surge from leveling up his physical stats, but it was enough to wash away most of his fatigue.
He could clearly feel it—his physique and strength had improved once again.
"Finally reached Level 2."
Leo let out a breath of relief and opened up the skill panel in his mind.
----------------------
Rank: None
Level: 3 (0/4)
Physique: 78
Strength: 57
Skill:
Basic Archery – Lv.2 (0%)
— Trait: Reinforce Body Lv.2
— Trait: Iron Arm Lv.2
— Trait: Slowfire Lv.2
----------------------
His Physique and Strength attributes had each increased by one point.
Especially his Physique—almost at 12 now.
With Slowfire Lv.2, his accuracy rate had reached 60%.
'I wonder how much proficiency I'll gain with a single shot now?'
Driven by curiosity, Leo nocked another arrow. This time, drawing the bowstring felt significantly easier.
"Whoosh!"
The arrow cut through the air, landing squarely in the bullseye.
Dead-on.
"Basic Archery Level 2 is no joke," Leo muttered, recalling how focused he'd felt. Once he drew the bow, his mind naturally entered a calm, ultra-focused state.
But the next moment, his smile faded a little.
----------------------
Basic Archery – Lv.2 (4%)
----------------------
'Only 4%…?' He gave a bitter chuckle.
Back at Level 1, a perfect bullseye would grant around 2% progress. Now, even a perfect shot only gave a third of that.
'So I need to hit the bullseye 250 times just to reach Level 3?'
'At my current pace—say, one arrow every two minutes—that's 30 shots per hour. Ten hours should be enough.'
With that thought, his motivation reignited.
Time ticked by. At noon, he returned home for lunch. Helen, seeing how hard he was working, added a few extra pieces of meat to his bowl.
His Stat Points climbed to 3.
Though it was still far from the 4 points required to reach the next level, Leo felt genuinely thankful.
After lunch, he eagerly returned to the training grounds in front of the warehouse and resumed his practice.
It seemed his dedication had begun to influence others. A few young men showed up not long after, each casting glances toward Leo with a hint of respect.
They had doubted Zach's claim that Leo had been training even at night. But after witnessing his morning session—and remembering his effort the day before—they could no longer deny it.
Besides, with the Wells brothers gone, things would only get tougher for the village.
Slacking off now would be shameful.
An hour passed.
Zach sat nearby, massaging Leo's arm while muttering with a complicated expression, "You know, kid… you might actually have talent for this."
He'd been watching closely. Right now, Leo was landing bullseyes six or seven times out of ten. Anyone who heard that would find it hard to believe he was just a beginner.
Leo just grinned sheepishly.
Sure, the system helped a lot, but he'd been working hard too.
"But if you keep training like this," Zach suddenly shifted tone, "it might not help much anymore."
Leo tensed, his pupils widening. "What do you mean, Uncle Zach?"
Zach looked at him. "Your accuracy's impressive, no doubt. But have you considered the fact that you're shooting stationary targets? In the wild, beasts don't just sit there waiting. Unless you ambush them perfectly, they'll move—and fast."
He didn't need to finish the sentence. The implication was clear.
Leo froze.
He'd been so focused on the progress bar, so driven by the system, that he'd fallen into a routine without thinking bigger.
"You mean… I should practice shooting moving targets?"
"Exactly."
Zach gave a rare nod of approval. "My archery skills may be average, but even a fool can figure this out. You're progressing fast, which is great—but it's not enough."
"I understand."
Leo inhaled deeply. "But… how can I practice that? Where do I find a moving target?"
"…"
Zach looked like he'd just dug his own grave. He paused for a few seconds and then sighed. "Fine. I'll help."
Moments later, a few other young men watched as a strange sight unfolded.
Zach stood on one side, tossing a wooden target into the air, while Leo aimed and fired.
The first shot? Missed.
"Don't rush. Take your time," Zach called. "I'll toss it a bit slower this time—focus!"
He tossed it again.
Leo squinted, predicted the arc, and released.
"Thunk!"
It hit the edge of the target. The board shuddered and tumbled to the ground.
Leo exhaled and immediately opened his Status Panel.
----------------------
Basic Archery – Lv.2 (25%)
----------------------
"!!!"
His eyes widened in disbelief. It had been 23% before—that one shot had granted a full 2% increase!
And that wasn't even a bullseye.
'If just clipping the edge gives me 2%… a perfect hit might be worth 4% or more! Even if it's only 2%, that's five times more efficient than shooting stationary targets!'
"What are you staring at? Eyes forward, keep going!" Zach barked.
"Yes, Uncle Zach!"
Leo gave him a grateful look.
At this rate, not only could he hit Level 3 soon—he might even reach Level 4 in a few days.
Zach, you're a real one.
An hour later, Zach finally collapsed onto the ground, gasping. His right arm felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
He opened his mouth to suggest a break—but then saw the blazing determination in Leo's eyes.
"…Alright, I'll use my left hand now. Won't be as steady though, so brace yourself."
Leo came to his senses, realizing how exhausted Zach must be. "Uncle Zach, how about we take a break first? There's no rush—"
"Break my ass. Who's the trainer here?" Zach scowled.
'No way I'm getting shown up by a kid.'
And so it continued.
Toss. Shoot. Toss. Shoot.
After another hour, Zach gave out completely.
"Uncle Zach, let's rest for a bit," Leo said, guilt creeping into his voice.
In the last two hours, he'd hit about a dozen moving targets. None were direct bullseyes, but…
His progress bar had passed 50%.
Physically, he wasn't even that tired.
Zach, however, noticed this and squinted at him. "…You still good to keep going?"
"Uh…"
Leo hesitated.
"You—yeah, you!" Zach shouted at a nearby youth who had been watching with great interest. "You've been sitting there doing nothing for a while, haven't you? Good. Time to step up. You're replacing me."
The young man looked like he wanted to cry.
'I only sat down for two minutes… why me?!!!'