Adventurer of Many Professions

Raymond stood in the dim light of the sewer, his heart pounding in satisfaction. The moment the blue panel popped up before him, he couldn't help but smile beneath his veil.

"Complete the [Craftsman] awakening requirements: Kill monsters using five different types of weapons."

"Awakening profession: Craftsman!"

"Sure enough, a stick is a weapon after all!" Raymond muttered, a small grin creeping onto his face.

A surge of new knowledge flooded his mind, as if an entire universe of techniques and methods had been unlocked. It was like a switch had been flipped inside him, and he could now see the world through a new lens; one filled with possibilities.

Reaching down, Raymond drew the dagger from his waist, inspecting it. Before, it had seemed like a perfectly serviceable weapon, small, sharp, and effective for quick strikes. But now, his perception had changed. What once looked like a tool for cutting, now appeared as nothing more than a crude piece of metal.

The craftsmanship was abysmal. The blade was uneven, the handle poorly shaped, and the material, he could tell with a glance, was low-quality steel at best. 'This is something an apprentice blacksmith would make,' Raymond thought with a sense of distaste. 'Barely worth a copper coin.'

But that wasn't the most shocking part. As his fingers traced the rough edges of the dagger, a strange sensation filled him. His mind buzzed with ideas on how to fix it, how to reshape and refine it. The sequence of steps to forge a better blade was crystal clear in his mind.

'If I had the right tools…' Raymond thought, a surge of excitement building in his chest. He could almost feel the heat of the forge, the rhythm of the hammer, the spark of steel meeting fire. 'I could turn this useless thing into a work of art.'

His fingers twitched, but he quickly shook his head, pushing the thought aside. 'Focus, Raymond.' The feeling was overwhelming, but he knew he couldn't get lost in it. He needed to stay on task.

"This is the ability of the 'Craftsman'," Raymond murmured, almost in awe. "As soon as you awaken, you gain the skill of a master blacksmith. I can already think like one."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He imagined for a moment what his life could be like now that he had this new ability. If he really wanted to, he could open a blacksmith shop right here in the town, live comfortably, and probably make a good living selling crafted weapons and armor. He had the expertise now, he could even rival the top blacksmiths in the area.

"Master-level forging ability…" Raymond muttered again, marveling at his new skills. "I could live like a king with this kind of craft. But that's not my path."

His thoughts shifted as his gaze turned to the armor he was wearing, the armor that had been made by the dwarf blacksmith, Greytor. The dwarf's work was legendary, and Raymond had always admired it. But now, with his own newly awakened skills, he couldn't help but scrutinize the armor with the keen eyes of a master craftsman.

As he looked at the pieces, his heart skipped a beat. In his eyes, they were flawless; perfect, without a single imperfection.

"This… this is perfect," Raymond breathed. "Greytor's work is on another level entirely. His skills surpass mine for now, without a doubt. I can't even find a single flaw."

But as he studied the armor more closely, something caught his eye. He paused and bent down, focusing on his left arm guard. He ran his fingers over the smooth surface, his brow furrowing as he found three small flaws.

"This…" Raymond trailed off, his eyes narrowing in thought. "This is where it was damaged by a giant mutant rat. I had Greytor repair it for me."

He could still remember the moment it happened, when the rat had lunged at him, its massive claws raking across his armor. He had barely escaped with his life, but the damage had been significant. The repair, which cost him fifty silver coins, had been well worth it, given how good the armor had been before. But now, with his new insight as a Craftsman, he saw things differently.

The repair was flawless, yes. But Raymond could see something subtle; a small, faint seam where the old and new parts of the armor joined. It wasn't obvious to the untrained eye, but to him, it was a tiny imperfection.

"It's a perfect repair," Raymond said to himself, nodding slowly. "But no matter how much you repair something, it can never be restored to its original state. The integrity isn't the same."

He wasn't criticizing Greytor's skills, far from it. Greytor was a master craftsman in his own right, and Raymond was lucky to have had him fix the armor. But he understood now, on a deeper level, the nature of craftsmanship. No matter how skilled a blacksmith was, repairing something always left a trace. The magic of creation could never fully replicate what had once been whole.

With a long, thoughtful sigh, Raymond finally turned his focus back to his own panel.

The blue glow appeared before him, and he studied the information carefully.

---

Name: Raymond Kelton

Age: 15

Magic value: 318.7/318.7

Occupation: Fighter, Warrior, Craftsman

Skill: Bone Crushing

Skill points: 0

Cumulative value: 70%

---

Seeing his new profession listed on the panel felt surreal. 'Craftsman.' That was real now. The weight of it settled in him, and he realized just how much potential lay ahead.

He was no longer just a warrior. He was a craftsman; a creator, a master of metal and stone, someone who could shape the world with his hands.

Raymond glanced at the blue panel in front of him, his brow furrowing slightly. His magic power had increased by 101.5 points. But when he subtracted the 100 points added by the awakened craftsman, he realized that each of the three mutant rats he'd just killed had only contributed 0.5 points of magic power.

The thought nagged at him. "So, it's not just about the monster type. It must be the 'number' of kills that affects the increase," he muttered to himself.

He tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully. 'Sure enough, the first one I killed wasn't a special case. Now, let's see if there's a pattern.'

With a new theory forming in his mind, Raymond reached down to cut off the mutant rat's ears, adding them to the growing pile in his bag. It was a small task, but necessary for tracking his progress. After all, this wasn't just about survival, it was about testing the limits of his newfound skills.

As he walked deeper into the sewer, he came across an adventurer. The man was engaged in a fierce fight with a mutant rat, his movements quick and precise with the dagger in his hand. Raymond watched for a moment, making a quick assessment. The man's fluidity, combined with the fact that he wasn't using any light sources, led Raymond to believe he was either an assassin or a thief, both classes were known for their night vision and expertise with short blades.

The adventurer, having finished off his quarry, turned his head and met Raymond's gaze. There was a moment of tension. Raymond simply nodded, offering no threat, and the other adventurer gave a cautious nod in return before slipping off into the shadows of the sewer.

'The sewers are full of surprises,' Raymond thought, shaking his head as he resumed his path.

---

Bang!

Raymond swung the thick wooden stick down with a solid thud, crushing the skull of the seventh mutant rat.

"The seventh one," he said quietly to himself, as the rat's broken body crumpled beneath the strike, its blood splattering across the floor.

The rats weren't difficult to deal with, not with his warrior strength and the weight of the hard wooden stick in his hands. Each blow landed with such force that the rats barely had time to react. The stick, weighing nearly twenty pounds, felt almost effortless to wield now, and with the added power from his warrior abilities, killing the rats was almost too easy.

"These things don't stand a chance," Raymond muttered, a smile tugging at his lips. He admired his own progress. Not only was it simple to smash through their defenses, but the rats rarely even got close enough to scratch him.

After cutting off the ears of the mutant rat, he stuffed them into his bag, glancing around. He had been walking deeper into the sewer for a while, but there had been little in the way of enemies. Only three rats in total. 'The sewer is bigger than it looks.'

With that in mind, Raymond studied his surroundings. The path ahead was dark, but there were clear signs of movement, footprints and dried bloodstains, the unmistakable marks of where rats had passed recently.

He chose a new passage, one that showed signs of heavy traffic, and continued walking, carefully watching the shadows. Every now and then, his boots made soft echoes against the wet stone, the sound reverberating in the stillness.

Suddenly, Raymond's foot splashed into a small puddle, sending a sharp "pop!" through the silence. The sound seemed to carry for miles, bouncing off the walls of the sewer.

The echo had barely faded when Raymond heard it, a soft pattering, growing louder with each passing second.

'No...' Raymond thought, realizing too late.

Bang!

Pa pa pa!

The unmistakable sound of rapid footsteps came from all directions. In the blink of an eye, Raymond's sharp hearing picked up the distinct sound of claws scraping against stone, 'dozens' of them. Green eyes gleamed in the darkness, and within seconds, he was surrounded.

There were at least fifteen mutant rats, charging from every direction. The walls seemed to pulse with their movement. Raymond turned quickly, his heart racing. He had unwittingly stumbled into the heart of their lair.

The rats snarled and growled, closing in from all sides. Raymond took a deep breath, his muscles tensing, his mind racing. There was no way he could take them all on at once. He needed to break through.

The first rat lunged at him, and Raymond wasted no time. With a primal roar, he charged forward, slamming the thick wooden stick into its skull. The impact was brutal. Blood sprayed in all directions as the rat's head caved in, its body collapsing to the ground with a sickening thud.

"Die!" Raymond hissed as he swung the stick again, sending another rat flying with a heavy strike to its side.

Blood and flesh splattered across the walls, but Raymond wasn't done yet. His body moved with the precision of a seasoned warrior, his instincts kicking in. With a swipe of his left hand, he sent a mutant rat flying toward the side, its bones shattering under the power of his strike. 'This is the strength of a warrior,' he thought, barely registering the carnage as the rats continued to close in.

In a flash, Raymond felt another rat charging toward him from behind. Reacting on instinct, he twisted his body, pivoting with a fluid motion. His elbow shot out, smashing into the skull of a rat that had hoped to catch him off guard. The blow was devastating, bone cracked, the rat fell limp, and the echo of its death resonated through the sewer.

"Ten!" Raymond said aloud, panting as he looked around at the remaining rats, now fewer in number but still deadly. The smell of blood hung thick in the air, and Raymond's grip tightened on his weapon.

The battle wasn't over. In fact, it had just begun. But Raymond's confidence had been shaken, and now he was ready for whatever came next.