"Know him?"

Roland shook his head with a helpless look.

If he counted the days when the original Roland had served this young nobleman as a stable boy, they could barely be called acquaintances.

But from Darco's reaction, he had clearly forgotten that Roland had once led his horse and held the reins for him.

"Then what exactly does Young Master Darco want from me?"

Roland thought back to yesterday's examination, and a guess formed.

"Could this young nobleman have seen my forging talent and come here specifically to recruit me?"

The idea left him uncertain.

From what he understood, the nobles of the Golden Valley Kingdom had little habit of humbling themselves before talented people.

Someone like Hawk was already an exception.

During his time learning under Hawk, Roland had seen just how refined the old blacksmith's forging skill was.

Even with the occupation panel, Roland estimated that he would need roughly a year before he could surpass Hawk.

Could his current forging skill truly catch the eye of those arrogant noble masters?

"No use worrying about it now."

Putting the matter aside, Roland turned to John. "Captain John, is your patrol duty over?"

"Nonsense. How else would I be standing here?"

John rolled his eyes and tossed over a shortbow.

"Take it."

Roland caught the bow. It was lighter than he had expected.

It was an ordinary shortbow, made from common birch and given only the simplest polishing. There was not even a layer of lacquer.

The bowstring was twisted hemp rope, already darkened from use. Several small cracks ran along the grain of the wood. It had clearly seen many years, though it could still be used.

"What? Think it's shabby?"

John folded his arms and watched Roland inspect it.

"This was the first bow I used when I practiced archery back then."

Roland shook his head, his fingers brushing the string.

"No. I was thinking about how to improve it."

His gaze settled on the rough grip at the center of the bow, and his professional habits had already begun forming a polishing plan.

"What's there to improve? Once you learn archery, make yourself a new one."

"All right..."

John patted Roland on the shoulder.

"Let's practice first. I don't have much free time."

"Yes, Captain John."

Roland drew his attention away from the shortbow and followed John along the estate's gravel paths. They finally stopped at an open training ground.

The training ground stood in the northwest corner of the estate. Low wooden fences enclosed it, and fine gravel covered the ground, rustling underfoot.

Several badly worn targets stood on the eastern side. The straw at the bullseyes had loosened from countless arrows.

On the western side were wooden swords and shields used for practice, their edges nicked and battered.

John walked to the targets, took an arrow from a nearby wooden rack, and handed it to Roland.

"Try it first."

He pointed at the target twenty steps away.

"Don't think about hitting the bullseye. First, feel the force of drawing the bow."

"Uh... Captain John..."

Roland accepted the arrow.

"Aren't you going to demonstrate first?"

After using [Focus] to learn Lion Swordsmanship, Roland naturally wanted to try the same trick and see whether he could master archery quickly.

"Demonstrate?"

John stood to the side and scratched his head, confused.

"Didn't I explain the essentials of shooting last night? Besides..."

John bent the bow and nocked an arrow in one easy motion.

Thump!

The bowstring snapped back with a dull sound, and the arrow struck the bullseye dead on.

"This is different from other skills. Stance, breathing, finger technique, exertion. None of them have one fixed standard. You have to adjust everything to suit yourself."

As John spoke, Roland's gaze returned to normal, and helplessness passed through him.

John was right.

When John drew and shot just now, Roland had quietly activated [Focus] and observed carefully.

The man's posture looked casual, and in truth, there was no obvious pattern.

At least, the key points John had taught him last night were barely visible.

"Looks like archery can't be learned through [Focus] shortcuts the way Lion Swordsmanship was. But that doesn't matter."

Roland shook off the disappointment. An eager smile replaced it.

"After all, I still have the occupation panel. At worst, I'll grind it out like the other skills."

John noticed none of this. He tapped his own temple with one finger and gave a mysterious smile.

"Compared with technique, what matters more is... feeling."

"Feeling?"

Roland frowned.

"That's right. Feeling!"

John nodded with complete seriousness, though the words sounded almost mystical.

"When the feeling is right, even with your eyes closed..."

As he spoke, he truly shut his eyes, drew the bow, and nocked another arrow.

"...you can hit the target!"

Whoosh!

The arrow cut through the air and nailed the bullseye again.

Roland paused.

He had not expected John's so-called feeling to be real.

"All right. Your turn."

Roland nodded, drew a breath, and set the arrow against the bowstring.

The key points of archery circled through his mind, and his posture became more and more standard.

Thump!

The bowstring rebounded. The arrow shot downward and buried itself in the sand several steps short of the target.

"Hahaha!"

John burst out laughing.

"Your strength isn't bad, but that feeling of yours still needs work."

Roland rubbed his slightly numb arm and nodded.

"And your body was too stiff just now."

"Archery relies on muscle memory and instinct. Thinking too much is actually bad."

John walked behind Roland and adjusted his stance.

"Move your left foot a little farther forward... yes, like that. Relax your shoulders. Don't stand there like a wooden stake."

Roland followed the instructions and found that the posture did feel smoother.

"Now, don't stare at the bullseye."

John's voice came from beside him.

"Look at the whole target. Let your body remember the distance."

Roland tried to do as instructed. Strangely, once he stopped aiming too deliberately, his arm found a more natural position.

"Release!"

The arrow flew through the air and scraped past the edge of the target.

At least it had touched.

"Progress!"

John nodded approvingly.

"Remember that feeling. Keep practicing until the moment your arm rises, you know where to shoot."

For the next few hours, Roland repeated the motions of drawing, aiming, and releasing.

Sweat soaked his back, and the bowstring rubbed the fingertips of his right hand red.

After each failure, he folded the techniques John had taught him the previous night into practice, adjusting them until they fit his own body.

By the time the sun sank westward, Roland's archery had begun to show results.

Out of ten arrows, at least three or four could hit the target.

They were still far from the bullseye, but John was satisfied.

"Not bad, kid."

The old soldier patted Roland's shoulder.

"At this speed, you'll catch up to newly enlisted recruits in less than a month."

Roland shook out his aching fingers. "Captain John, what were you like the first time you shot an arrow?"

John grinned, showing several yellowed teeth.

"Far worse than you. My first arrow went right past the instructor's scalp."

He rubbed the stubble on his chin.

"That old fellow chased me around the entire training ground."

The two laughed, and the setting sun stretched their shadows across the gravel.

"All right, kid."

John patted dust from his clothes.

"I've taught you everything I can. The rest depends on you getting familiar with it yourself."

"Train here whenever you like. I've already greeted the patrol guards."

"Thank you, Captain John!"

"You kid, always so polite..."

Seeing Roland bow, John was too lazy to lecture him again. He waved and left the training ground.

Roland looked at the sky. It had not fully darkened yet.

"There's still time. I'll practice a little longer and see whether I can awaken Basic Archery."

With that thought, he took a bundle of arrows and placed them by his feet, then drew the bow again.

Arrow after arrow cut through the air. Roland's movements became smoother, and his landing points grew more accurate.

He seemed to be starting to understand the feeling John had described.

After an unknown amount of time, just as night was about to fall, a line of golden text appeared before his eyes.

[You have learned Basic Archery. Current level: Lv.1]

[Upon inspection, you qualify for the base occupation: Hunter]

[Requirements: Strength 1, Agility 2, any Lv.1 archery-related skill, two survival-related skills 0/2]

[Host does not meet the requirements]

"Hunter?"

Roland was not surprised that learning Basic Archery awakened a new occupation.

His attention stayed on the final line.

"Two survival-related skills..."

"What exactly counts as a survival skill?"

"Starting a fire by drilling wood? Purifying water? Identifying edible things in the wilderness?"

Possibilities ran through his mind.

Roland looked up at the fully darkened sky and set the thought aside for now.

"Forget it. I'll test those tomorrow."

His arms ached from the long practice. After moving them carefully, he gathered the arrows scattered around the targets and left the training ground.

Night wind brushed across the estate path, and Roland remembered the information John had revealed last night.

"Right. I need to ask Mr. Bronson whether he knows anything about those strange events in the Black Fir Forest."

Following his memory, Roland soon arrived at the remote wooden house.

Knock, knock, knock!

The clear knocking sounded sharp in the quiet night.

The wait was longer than expected.

When the wooden door finally groaned open, Bronson's haggard face appeared in the gap.

His eye sockets were deeply sunken, but his eyes shone with an unusual light. His whole body carried a sickly vitality.

"It's you, Roland..."

Bronson's voice came between heavy breaths.

"I remember... the time we agreed on for research assistance... is five days from now."

Roland answered apologetically.

"I'm truly sorry to disturb you, Mr. Bronson. I only have some questions I wanted to ask."

As he spoke, Roland sensed something familiar from behind the wooden door.

It was the unique perception he had first felt toward flames after changing occupation to Blacksmith and obtaining [Furnace Heart].

He could clearly sense a fire source inside Bronson's room, radiating violent, restless fluctuations.

"My apologies..."

Bronson's mouth twitched, barely forming a smile.

"I'm afraid today is not very convenient, because I am currently..."

He glanced back into the room, then turned around and spoke faster.

"Conducting an important study."

"Five days from now. When you come to assist me, I will answer your questions together then. Is that all right?"

Sensing Bronson's growing anxiety, Roland could only nod.

"All right, Mr. Bronson. Then I will first..."

Before he could finish, Bronson waved and shut the door.

"Cough, cough..."

Dust shook loose from the force of the closing door, making Roland cover his mouth and cough.

He stood there for a moment, recalling the violent flame fluctuation he had sensed just now.

"Mr. Bronson... what exactly is he researching?"

Full of doubts, Roland turned and walked back toward the dormitory.

"Judging by this situation, I can only visit again in five days."

After returning to the dormitory and washing up, Roland buried himself in the soft bed.

Fatigue struck. Almost the moment his head touched the pillow, he sank into sleep.

Early the next morning, when the first ray of sunlight pierced the clouds, urgent hoofbeats woke Roland.

He had just rubbed his sleepy eyes when a familiar shout came from outside the door.

"Roland! Are you awake?"

"This young nobleman really does have endless energy..."

Roland shook his head. After packing his belongings, he pushed open the door.

Morning light spilled across the open space.

Darco stood before the door with two fully armed guards, leading four fine horses.

The young nobleman wore a fitted hunting outfit today, with a dark green cloak over his shoulders, a jewel-inlaid dagger at his waist, and two finely made shortbows in his hands that gleamed under the sunlight.

"Yo! Roland!"

The moment Darco saw him, he came forward warmly and put an arm around his shoulder, guiding him toward the horses.

"You're finally up. Well? Can you ride?"

Roland hesitated, then nodded.

"A little, I think."

"Perfect!"

Darco clapped excitedly and pointed to a gentle brown mare.

"I picked this one especially for you. Not only is her temperament mild, but she runs very steadily. Try her."

Although Roland had never ridden a horse after transmigrating, the original owner had been a stable boy and had learned the basics.

The skills were not refined, but they were barely enough.

"Yes, Young Master Darco."

Roland followed the original owner's memories and placed both hands on the horse's neck.

The brown horse snorted and lowered her head obediently, allowing his tense nerves to loosen a little.

"Relax. Like this..."

Darco demonstrated mounting from the side.

Roland closed his eyes, and the original owner's memories surged back.

The rough feel of reins, the smell of saddle leather, the rhythm of rising and falling with the horse's back.

His eyes opened. His left foot stepped into the stirrup, his right leg crossed over the horse's back, and the entire movement came out in one clean motion.

"Beautiful!"

Darco clapped loudly.

"Looks like you're more practiced than I imagined."

Roland, seated on the horse, had no attention to spare for a reply.

He focused entirely on adapting to the long-lost feeling.

His legs tightened around the horse's belly, and his hands adjusted the looseness of the reins.

The horse seemed to notice the rider's unfamiliarity and anxiously stepped in place.

"Relax your knees."

Darco rode closer.

"Let your body move with her rhythm. Like... yes, like driftwood in water."

Sunlight passed through the treetops, casting mottled patterns across the horse's back.

Riding skill in memory and personally controlling a horse were ultimately two different things.

Roland spent quite some time adapting before he regained that subtle sense of balance.

His movements were still awkward, but he could at least ride forward.

"Well done, Roland!"

Darco gave a loud whistle and flicked his riding crop.

"Follow me. I'll take you somewhere wonderful."

He deliberately slowed his pace so Roland, still a beginner, could keep up.

Hooves struck the estate's gravel path, and the group moved away from the estate walls.

"Young Master Darco."

Roland gripped the reins, trying hard to maintain his balance.

"Where are we going?"

"Hunting!"

Darco's voice leapt with excitement. When he looked back, sunlight fell across his flying blond hair.

Roland relaxed.

Darco's fanatical love of hunting had long since spread throughout the estate.

"Looks like this young nobleman simply wants to get closer to me."

After thinking that, Roland turned his focus back to controlling the horse beneath him.

In the Golden Valley Kingdom, even the cheapest mule was valuable, much less a trained warhorse.

Being able to practice riding for free right now was a gift he had no reason to waste.

Darco occasionally looked back and told interesting hunting stories. Roland split his attention between responding to the young master's enthusiasm and practicing his riding.

The two guards remained silent, their vigilant gazes constantly sweeping across the bushes on both sides of the road.

The group left the estate and followed the northern path.

Before long, a lush forest appeared ahead.

"You wait here."

Darco dismounted deftly and ordered the two guards behind him.

"Watch the horses. If anything goes wrong, I think you know the consequences."

"But young master..."

One guard hesitated, then stepped forward.

"The baron instructed..."

"I said..."

Darco turned. The enthusiasm he had shown Roland vanished.

His voice was cold and hard as iron. His eyes held no warmth, as though the two people before him were tools that could be replaced at any time.

"Wait here."

"This place is so close to the estate. What danger could there be?"

"Yes, sir."

The two guards exchanged helpless glances and lowered their heads in obedience.

When Darco turned back, the warm smile had returned to his face.

"Roland, can you shoot?"

Seeing Roland nod, the young nobleman pushed one shortbow into his hands without giving him a chance to refuse.

"Then take this, Roland. I begged Mr. Hawk for quite a while before he made it for me."

Feeling the smooth warmth beneath his fingertips, Roland looked down.

The bow body was made from dark yew, polished until it reflected light like a mirror. The bowstring was woven from fine horsetail hair and shone with a pearly luster in the morning sun.

Both ends of the bow arms were set with delicate copper decorations carved into eagles spreading their wings.

"This craftsmanship..."

Roland praised it softly.

The bow's weight distribution was perfect. Even a beginner like him could feel its natural balance.

Compared with the shortbow John had given him, this one, personally made by Hawk, was a masterpiece.

"Let's go, Roland. Let me tell you..."

Darco grabbed Roland's arm and led him into the forest.

Once they entered the woods, Darco lowered his voice and pointed to marks in the mud and broken young branches.

"Look at these tracks. A wild rabbit passed through here this morning."

He analyzed them confidently and followed the traces forward.

Before long, they spotted a gray rabbit feeding in the underbrush.

Darco licked his lips with excitement and lowered his voice.

"How about it, Roland? Want to try first?"

He drew an arrow from the quiver and handed it over.

Roland accepted it.

Remembering the key points John had taught yesterday and that elusive feeling, he drew the bowstring.

Thump!

The bowstring snapped back, and the arrow shot through the air.

The hard practice from the previous afternoon finally showed results.

Although the arrow did not strike the gray rabbit's head, it pierced the body.

"Well done, Roland!"

Darco clapped and cheered.

"I truly didn't expect that not only are you talented in forging tools, your archery is also this good."

"You praise me too much, Young Master Darco."

Roland smiled while watching Darco retrieve the prey, but his attention had already shifted to the golden text floating before him.

[When fighting an enemy, related comprehension has improved. Basic Archery Experience +1]

"Shooting a rabbit can also grant experience?"

Roland pondered.

"[Theory and Practice] is more useful than expected. Killing an ordinary Kobold granted three points of experience, while a Mutant Kobold granted six. It seems the experience gained is closely related to the enemy's strength."

As he thought, Darco returned with the gray rabbit.

He pulled out the arrow and said half jokingly, "But your archery is still a little inferior to mine. For prey like this, it's best to aim straight for the head. Otherwise, you'll damage the pelt. In a moment, I'll show you my skill."

Facts proved that Darco was not boasting.

For the rest of the morning, Darco displayed skilled tracking and superb archery.

Through observation, Roland discovered that Darco's archery was only slightly inferior to John's.

Considering the age gap between them, this young nobleman's obsession with martial skills was obvious.

In less than half a day, the two hunted more than a dozen rabbits and two animals resembling roe deer.

Then they carried the heavy prey together to an open space beside the stream.

After a brief cleanup, Darco drew the dagger at his waist and began skinning a rabbit with practiced hands.

An idea struck Roland.

"Does skinning wild animals count as a survival skill?"

With that thought, Roland approached Darco and asked, "Young Master Darco, can you teach me how to skin a rabbit?"

Darco looked up, an approving smile appearing on his face.

"Of course, Roland. I didn't expect you to be interested in this sort of thing too."

He shook the blood from his hands and crouched beside another rabbit.

"The key to skinning is accurate cutting. Follow the grain of the muscles."

Darco opened a cut in the rabbit's abdomen with the dagger.

"Look. Start from here. The dagger tip must stay between skin and flesh. It cannot go too deep, or you will cut the organs."

Roland activated [Focus].

He memorized Darco's technique and the angle of each cut.

"You try."

Darco handed him the dagger.

"Remember, keep your movements steady. When you encounter fascia, use a little force to pick it open."

"I understand, Young Master Darco."

Roland accepted the dagger, recalled the details he had just observed, and imitated Darco as he made the first cut into the rabbit's abdomen.

Unfortunately, he failed to control the blade's depth and cut into part of the organs at once. A fishy stench spread.

"Tsk, common beginner mistake."

Darco wrinkled his nose, but there was no blame in his tone.

"It's fine. Tilt the dagger outward a little. Like this..."

He held Roland's wrist and adjusted the angle.

On the second cut, Roland was much more cautious.

He could feel the blade pushing with difficulty between tough hide and soft muscle, sometimes meeting fascia that blocked the way.

In some places, he used too much force and left ugly cuts on the pelt. In others, he skinned too shallowly and had to rework them.

"Take your time. Follow the grain."

Darco guided him from the side.

"Yes, that's it... ah, leave the skin connecting to the hind leg there."

With the previous two attempts as experience, Roland felt more comfortable when he cut again. Although his speed was not fast, before long, a perfect rabbit pelt fell into his hands.

A line of golden text appeared before his eyes.

[You have learned Skinning. Current level: Lv.1]

After seeing the prompt, Roland immediately looked toward the occupation panel.

Seeing that the survival skills required to change occupation to Hunter had changed from 0/2 to 1/2, he clenched his fist in excitement.

"Sure enough. Skinning really is a survival skill!"

Roland was still excited when Darco's praise sounded beside him.

"Well done, Roland!"

Darco could no longer remember how many times he had praised the youth today.

"Riding, archery... even skinning can be mastered so quickly. Could truly talented people excel at everything they do?"

Darco's appreciation for Roland became harder to hide.

"Seriously, Roland, in the future, you should follow me..."

Before Darco could finish, a rustling sound came from nearby.

The two exchanged a glance, set down the daggers, drew the iron swords at their waists, and looked toward the source of the sound.

In the next moment, many short figures emerged among the trees.