After being struck by the arrow, Luck felt, for a brief moment, as if an unfamiliar force was coursing through his body.
The burning pain vanished, and when he looked down at his skin, he saw only a faint, pulsating light—no wound.
Then, he heard a soft whisper, as if someone were speaking directly into his mind, but the words were indistinct.
Suddenly, an incomprehensible message appeared before his eyes:
"Ability unlocked: [UNKNOWN]"
His heart pounded. What was that? Who or what had struck him? And why was he unscathed?
Even as he tried to make sense of it, he heard footsteps. His father was returning. Luck took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. He couldn't let anything show.
"Everything alright?" his father asked as he approached.
Luck nodded. "Yeah, I was just waiting for you."
His father slung the game over his shoulder and gave him a quick glance, then shrugged. "Alright then, let's head home."
On the way back, Luck remained silent. He was sure something had happened, something beyond his understanding. The message. The whispering. The sudden healing.
And the figure in the tree.
Who was that? And what did they want from him?
I walked alongside my father, the rustling leaves in the wind accompanying us. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a soft, golden light over the forest.
"You did well today," my father finally said, carrying the game over his shoulder. "For your first time, that was pretty impressive."
I shrugged. "I just watched what you were doing."
He laughed. "Good observation skills are half the battle. But eventually, you'll need to trust your instincts, not just your eyes."
I only nodded. My thoughts were elsewhere. The mysterious figure, the arrow, the whispering—it wouldn't leave me alone. But I couldn't let it show.
After a while, he spoke again. "You've been pretty quiet today. Everything alright?"
"Yeah," I replied quickly. "I'm just tired."
He gave me a brief, scrutinizing look before turning away. "Then you should get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, we'll be up early—the game needs to be processed."
I murmured a vague response, but my mind was already preoccupied with something else.
When we finally reached our home, my mother greeted us with a warm smile. "There you are at last! I hope you didn't tear down half the forest."
"No, just a small part," my father replied with a grin, setting the game aside.
I said nothing and went straight to my room. I had no time for small talk—I needed answers.
As soon as I shut the door, I began rifling through my books. I searched feverishly for any clue—about arcane arrows, mysterious healing abilities, system messages.
Page after page, I read about ancient mages, lost arts, and hidden powers. But none of it matched what had happened to me.
Leaning back, I stared at the ceiling.
What had happened to me? And why did it feel like the arrow hadn't harmed me but… changed me?
The next few days passed in a strange unease. I tried to act normal, to pretend as if nothing had happened, but inside, my thoughts revolved only around the arrow, the SYSTEM, and the question of what exactly had occurred.
I searched through every book I could find—nothing. Not a single mention of a SYSTEM, no clues about arcane arrows that healed instead of wounded. The only reference to arcane forces described them as uncontrollable, nearly forgotten magic once wielded by the most powerful mages. But none of it fit my experience.
And then, it happened.
I was in the kitchen, helping my mother chop vegetables. My thoughts were elsewhere when the blade slipped, slicing deep into my finger. I flinched, expecting pain, expecting blood. But nothing came.
Before my eyes, the wound closed within seconds, as if it had never been there.
I froze.
My heart began to race.
So I hadn't imagined it—my body was healing itself.
Quickly, I hid my hand in my pocket and mumbled an excuse before leaving the kitchen. Once in my room, I stretched out my hand and examined it.
Nothing—no scar, not even a trace of the cut.
"What… am I?" I whispered.
My eyes fell on a dagger resting on my table. I knew I had to test it. Carefully, I pressed the blade against my arm and dragged a small line across my skin.
The same result.
The wound disappeared as if it had never existed.
My stomach tightened. Was this the ability I had received? Healing? Had the arrow not injured me but instead granted me this power?
But the SYSTEM had said: "Ability unlocked: [UNKNOWN]." It hadn't said "Healing."
That meant… there might be more.
I started paying close attention to my surroundings, looking for anything that felt different. But aside from the healing, nothing seemed to have changed. No sudden transformations, no signs of another ability.
But one question remained: How far did this healing go?
If I could regenerate myself—were there limits? Would it work for severe injuries as well? Or was this something beyond normal healing magic?
I had to find out. But not here, not in the house, where someone could see me.
I needed a secluded place.
And then, I had to test what I was truly capable of.