'Leave alone the quest! I'm doomed anyway if I dare to miss!' Amra gritted his teeth as he extended his hand back and draw an arrow.
He just couldn't afford to allow the weaklings to get closer to him as just a single scratch from them and he would became a weakling as well.
He had witnessed this from his roommates before he lost his eyes, and he couldn't dare to make the same mistake as he just had "too much to accomplish in this lifetime."
It wasn't a secret anymore that the world has already turn chaotic, and he would need every single help given to survive.
He just couldn't ignore the quest, a one in a million special skill, something that might place him a foot ahead of others and hence boltering his survival chances.
He rested the arrow across his left hand, the one gripping the bow and shifted his focus entirely to his ears.
It was the only way he could survive, replacing vision with sound, letting his ears become his eyes.
He filtered out the chaos,the screams, the pounding rain, the thunder that shook the building, the lightning that cracked like splitting bones. All of it faded into the background, pushed to the edges of his mind.
He had only one focus now: the weaklings.
He tuned his ears to the sounds that mattered, the sharp scrape of claws digging into concrete, the wet slap of bare feet against the ceiling and walls. Each sound painted a shape in his mind, a movement, a threat.
It was as though blindness didn't make him helpless. But rather sharper.
It was brutal at first, chaotic, disorienting. But his condition left him no choice. The blindness, the crawling horrors, the storm outside, it all demanded adaptation and so, he pushed through and slowly, the noise began to shape itself.
The chaos unraveled into patterns. The sounds painted movement in his mind, faint outlines, foggy impressions, but enough.
He could now track them. Not perfectly, but with eerie clarity. Their speed. Their rhythm. Their next move.
Everything was abit foggy but he could at least use what he had gathered to predict where they might be, and their second move.
He placed the arrow on the string and pulled with every ounce of strength he could summon, and in that moment, something shifted within him.
A strange sensation surged through him, subtle, yet profound as the archery skill passively took root deep within his essence.
It wasn't just a system activation. It was a transformation.
Amra no longer looked like a blind amateur fumbling in the dark, he looked like a marksman forged by instinct and desperation, someone who understood the bow not as a weapon, but as an extension of his will.
With his calculation done and knowing where the closet weakling should be, he let go of the arrow and forcing the magic to commence.
[Wind Piercer passively activated]
The arrow broke through the air with a menacing, silent hiss as the wind itself recoiled as if afraid to touch it.
The atmosphere bent away, folding back in reverence, carving a path before the shaft even arrived.
It didn't just fly, it cut, gliding with zero resistance like a phantom born of precision and rage.
Its speed was unreal, like lightning disguised as motion, reaching the closest weakling in the blink of an eye.
There was no warning. No time to dodge. Just impact as the head of the arrow suddenly started spinning the moment it made contact with the weakling's head, drilling its was deeper into its skull and forcing it to crush on the floor, lifeless.
[A level 1 weakling has been slayed]
[+10 EXP]
'This..!' Amra face shifted in surprise.
Although it was just in within a week, he had already come across different bows and arrows but nothing certainly ever felt like this.
It was just too perfect for him and he was really happy that he selected archery as his primary combat skill. But he needed not to celebrate too soon as more weaklings were approaching quick.
His breath hitched. The first weakling lay crumpled in the corridor, skull split open by the arrow's spinning head. But the silence didn't last much as more were coming.
He could hear them, three distinct sets of claws scraping, feet slapping, breath rasping.
He reached for another arrow, fingers trembling but precise. He didn't aim with his eyes. He aimed with instinct.
The second weakling lunged through the doorway, its limbs contorted, mouth wide and dripping, forcing Amra to barely sidestep in time.
The creature's claws grazed the air where his throat had been and mid motion, Amra released the arrow, aiming at its head.
The weakling didn't even have time to react as the arrow connected with its skull midair and forcing it to crash on the lifeless.
[A level 1 weakling has been slayed]
[ +10 EXP]
He stumbled back, panting, but this time, he noticed something changing within him.
This was only the third weakling he had killed and yet, with each kill, his movements grew sharper, his instincts more precise and survival no longer felt like blind luck. It felt earned, thanks to the archery skill passively taking over him.
The skill was no longer just a passive trait, it was embedding itself into his very essence, reshaping him with every arrow loosed.
Each shot honed him. Each death carved clarity into his form.
He turned his attention to the third weakling which was already crawling across the ceiling, limbs twisted like vines, head tilted unnaturally as it hissed.
He didn't wait. He drew, aimed, fired and a loud thud echoed in the corridor as the weakling crashed on the floor.
[A level 1 weakling has been slayed]
[+10 EXP]
The fourth weakling was different though. It was faster. Smarter as it darted across the wall, then dropped suddenly, claws outstretched. It made him to feel like this one was more like him, growing stronger and intelligent with every kill.
He barely rolled aside as the creature's nails sliced through the edge of his shirt, almost touching his skin.
But with his heightened reflexes, Amra pulled and released the arrow mid motion.
[A level 1 weakling has been slayed]
[+10 EXP]
"At this rate, I might as well end up becoming a god.' He smirked while focusing on the remaining weaklings.
He draw and fire, draw and fire then draw and fire, three arrows in a row and soon, the results were displayed on his face.
[A level 1 weakling has been slayed]
[+10 EXP]
[A level 1 weakling has been slayed]
[+10 EXP]
[A level 1 weakling has been slayed]
[+10 EXP]
[Quest completed]
[Congratulations, you have been granted a passive skill.]
The text displayed but Amra ignored it for now as he still felt like he wasn't safe yet.
The runes on the bow and the quiver weren't glowing anymore, but that didn't mean that he was completely out of danger for him to focuse on the system. And as if to prove him right, he suddenly heard something breaking through the air with a silent hiss, aiming direct at the back of his neck