The snow crunched under Noah's worn leather boots.
Each step was a quiet betrayal in the otherwise silent forest of Vythenheim. Before him, steam rose from a set of tracks the size of dinner plates.
They belonged to a Frostgrizzle, a beast of ice and fury, and Noah had been following it since sunrise. His fingers, numb inside his gloves, rested on the worn wooden box attached to his belt.
Inside were five thin cards, the source of all his courage and all his shame.
The Walkers of Vythenheim were legends. His father, Garret Walker, had led three raids against the southern city of Solgarde, returning with steel, grain, and glory.
His two older brothers, Bjorn and Kael, were titans in their own right, their combat attunements ranking high at B-tier. They could wrestle Frostgrizzles for sport.
And then there was Noah, the third son. The runt.
He checked the mana in his core. Barely a quarter full. He had been pushing himself too hard. The cards his father had given him were powerful, but they drank his energy like a thirsty dog.
A soft rumble echoed through the trees, and Noah's head snapped up. Through a clearing, he saw it.
The Frostgrizzle was massive, its fur a pristine white save for the dark, frozen blood of its last meal matted around its jaws.
It stood on its hind legs, sniffing the air, its shadow stretching long and menacing across the snow.
Noah's heart hammered against his ribs. He was Level 9. A kill like this would push him over the edge to Level 10, the level where a ranker awakens their Profession.
It was a rite of passage for every Vythen. It was the moment he dreaded most.
His mind went to the deck box. He didn't have time for doubt. He drew five cards, his entire soul deck, and laid them out in his mind.
Iron Skin (D) Gale Step (D) Hunter's Mark (E) Phantom Blade (C) Lesser Heal (E)
The bear's black eyes found him. It let out a roar that shook the icicles from the branches above. It charged.
"Activate: Iron Skin!" Noah yelled, his voice thin in the frigid air. He didn't actually had to speak them aloud, but he prefered this way.
His father always said that the great Walkers of Vythenheim announced their arrivals miles away from. Hiding wasn't in their dictionary. Sixteen old Noah also mirrored that motto.
A shimmer of grey light covered his body. The Frostgrizzle's paw, claws like daggers, swiped at him. The impact threw Noah back ten feet, but the claws only scraped against the magical barrier, sending sparks into the air.
His ribs screamed in protest.
"Gale Step!" He poured more mana into the second card.
A gust of wind erupted at his feet, sending him skidding to the left just as the bear lunged again. It crashed into a thick pine tree, splintering the trunk.
He wasn't supposed to be a fighter, not with his F rank attunement. Men who failed to awaken atleast E rank attunmenets were all casted out of the Vythenheim, stripped of their pride as a Vythen.
His father's cards were the only reason he was still alive. An E-rank warrior, someone with a real attunement, would have met the charge head-on.
They would have broken the beast's jaw with a single, empowered punch. Noah could only dodge and weave, a fly buzzing around a giant.
"Hunter's Mark!" he gasped, pointing a trembling finger.
A faint red rune appeared on the bear's thick neck, a spot where the fur was thinner. It was the beast's weak point. Now he just had to get there.
He activated Phantom Blade. A blade of pure, shimmering blue energy formed in his right hand. It was a C-rank skill, a treasure his father had looted from a Solgarde captain.
It was far too powerful for a Level 9 to wield, and the mana drain was staggering.
He dodged another swipe, the wind of it stealing the breath from his lungs. He was too slow. The bear was learning his pattern. It corrected its next lunge, and a claw caught his leg.
The Iron Skin flared but shattered under the force. The claws tore through his trousers and into his flesh. Pain, hot and sharp, shot up his leg.
Noah cried out, stumbling. He slammed his hand onto his thigh.
"Lesser Heal!" Green light washed over the wound. The bleeding stopped and the flesh began to stitch itself back together, but it took the last of his reserves.
His mana was almost gone.
One more chance.
The Frostgrizzle, smelling his blood and exhaustion, reared up for the final blow. It was the opening he needed. Ignoring the fire in his leg, Noah pushed every last drop of his mana into the Phantom Blade.
The blue energy flared, growing brighter and longer.
He used Gale Step one last time, not to dodge, but to charge. He shot forward, sliding under the beast's descending claws. He drove the energy blade upwards with both hands, aiming for the glowing red rune on its neck.
The blade sank in deep.
The Frostgrizzle let out a gurgling shriek. It thrashed wildly, but its strength was fading. Hot blood poured over Noah, melting the snow around his boots.
The massive beast swayed for a moment before crashing to the ground, its fall shaking the very earth.
Silence.
Noah stood there, panting, leaning on his knees. His body screamed, his mana core was bone dry, and he was covered in blood. But he was alive.
Heavy, clapping footsteps approached from the trees. His brother, Bjorn, emerged, a wide grin on his face. Behind him were three other hunters from his clan.
"There he is!" Bjorn boomed, slapping Noah hard on the back, nearly knocking him over. "Took down a Frostgrizzle all by himself! A true Walker!"
The other hunters cheered, their voices echoing in the quiet woods. A young boy, no older than twelve, looked at Noah with wide, worshipful eyes.
Noah forced a smile, raising a bloody hand in acknowledgement. But inside, he felt nothing but a cold, hollow emptiness.
A true Walker? He was a fraud.
He knew any of them, even the young boy, would have fought with more courage, with more of their own strength.
They wouldn't have needed a deck of cards that out-ranked them by two full tiers just to survive.
They wouldn't have won by dodging and hiding until the very last second. He hadn't overpowered the beast; he had cheated it. This victory wasn't his. It belonged to his father's wealth.
As Bjorn began directing the others to haul the massive carcass back to the village, a familiar blue light shimmered in front of Noah's eyes.
[You have slain a Frostgrizzle!]
[Congratulations! You have reached Level 10!]
[Minimum requirements met. Commencing Profession Awakening...]
Noah's breath caught in his throat. This was it. The System would scan his soul, find his pathetic, useless F-rank Attunement—Skill Crafter—and grant him a profession to match.
Tanner. Scribe. Or, if he was truly unlucky, Gatherer. He would be a joke for the rest of his life. He closed his eyes, waiting for the final wave of shame to wash over him.
[Attunement 'Skill Crafter' detected. Anomaly found.]
[Searching for compatible Profession...]
[...Search complete. Unique Profession granted.]
[Displaying Status]
He slowly opened his eyes, steeling himself for the disappointment. But the words that floated in the air before him were not the ones he expected. His heart stopped.
Name: Noah Walker
Level: 10
Rank: F
Attunement: Skill Crafter (F)
Attributes:
Strength: 8
Agility: 12
Stamina: 9
Intelligence: 10
Mana: 150/150
Profession: Subscriptor (EX)