Hana Takayama's Perspective
During class selection, Hana remembered well the description the game gave for her class.
"Archers: specialists in long-range combat. The highest single-target damage per shot, but fragile in direct confrontation."
Basically, she was the class with the highest single-target ranged damage.
While mages were the class with the highest area-of-effect ranged damage.
Honestly, back then, she barely cared about that description.
She didn't have to think twice.
If there was an archer class in any game, Hana would choose it without hesitation. It was natural, inevitable, almost instinctive.
Even if the forums screamed it was the weakest class.
Even if her friends tried to convince her to go for warriors, mages, or any other "safer" role.
Her decision never wavered.
The bow and arrow weren't just numbers on a screen.
They were part of who she was.
She knew her choice had nothing to do with efficiency or guaranteed victory.
Not everything in life was about winning.
Sometimes, it was simply about staying true to yourself.
Even so… there was something she couldn't ignore.
The game's initial evaluation of her class just felt wrong.
But not entirely wrong.
Of course… archers really did deal more single-target ranged damage compared to mages.
That wasn't a lie.
But there was a simple reason behind it: arrows could keep flying without depending on cooldowns.
Every shot came from her own physical skill, from the tension of the string, the strength in her arm, the precision of her aim.
While a mage had to wait precious seconds for the next spell to be available, an archer only had to breathe, adjust the angle, and release another arrow.
On top of that, even the class skills had shorter cooldowns than a mage's.
Powerful spells always came with long waits.
But an archer's techniques were fast, almost instant, and allowed for constant pressure on the enemy.
In the end, if the target was a single one, the result was clear: an archer could indeed deal more continuous damage.
Still, Hana couldn't shake the feeling that the initial description was… a bit lazy.
Reducing her class to "highest single-target ranged damage" felt so shallow, almost like a rushed summary.
If it were up to her to write the class definition, she would phrase it differently.
In her view, archers were the class of speed and precision.
The reason she thought so was simple.
In any battle, those were the two qualities an archer needed most.
If an archer could run fast enough and shoot fast enough, half the fight was already won.
And if, on top of that speed, they still managed to keep their accuracy… then that archer became a complete player, a lethal hunter.
And honestly, Hana didn't think this was just some theory in her head.
It was all written into the very skills of the class.
That was why Hana disagreed so strongly with the initial description.
Because the true potential of an archer wasn't in damage numbers, but in the ability to move like no one else and still hit the target.
And at that very moment, in the middle of the dungeon's chaos, that was exactly what she was about to prove.
Hana drew a deep breath, raised her bow, and without hesitation activated the skill that defined the essence of her class:
"Swift and Agile."
Immediately, she felt her body respond.
Her muscles lighter, her steps freer, the air slicing against her skin as she moved.
It was as if gravity had suddenly lessened, and every motion was multiplied.
Five times her speed.
Five times her agility.
Enough to dash across the chamber, dodging goblin claws and blades as if they were nothing more than sluggish shadows.
But as much as Swift and Agile gave her an advantage—letting her outrun goblins, dodge easily, and find firing points—
It still wasn't enough to change her team's situation.
She had to go further. She had to push a little harder.
As soon as she found a higher position, pressed against a stone ledge that gave her a wide view of the hall, Hana activated her second skill:
"Rapid Shots."
Another wave of speed surged through her body.
Her agility quintupled again, stacking atop the first skill.
And above all came the true difference: her ability to shoot arrows without pause, one after another, in a cadence that could only be described as superhuman.
Her fingers barely touched the string before releasing it.
The creak of the tense wood mixed with sharp twangs, repeated in such short intervals it sounded like a living machine gun.
Arrow after arrow cut through the air.
Arrow after arrow pierced flesh, skulls, and throats.
She didn't stop to breathe, didn't stop to think.
She simply fired at everything she could see.
Every goblin silhouette that appeared in her vision was struck down before it even realized where the attack came from.
With just those two skills—Swift and Agile and Rapid Shots—Hana knew she could wipe out an impressive number of enemies.
The space around her allies would clear.
The pressure would ease.
They would be able to breathe again.
But Hana still wasn't satisfied.
Once again, she decided to go a step further.
Into some of her arrows, she channeled her third skill:
"Piercing Arrow."
The reason was simple.
Unlike melee classes, archers didn't add brute strength to their damage.
Arrow power was fixed, only varying by where it hit.
That's why precision meant everything.
But Piercing Arrow broke that rule.
It doubled the fixed damage of every shot.
A cruel multiplier that turned each arrow into a projectile capable of tearing through bones and crude armor as if they were paper.
And the best part: its cooldown was only two seconds.
Hana kept the skill active without pause, firing like a woman possessed.
Her bow glowed in bluish tones with every cast, string and arrow vibrating in unison as she maintained her insane rhythm, shot after shot, strike after strike.
In that moment, Hana was no longer just an archer.
She was a goblin-killing machine.
She only stopped shooting when no goblin was left in sight.
Silence returned to the hall—heavy, almost unreal—as if the dungeon itself had held its breath before the slaughter.
It had all lasted less than twenty seconds.
In less than twenty seconds, Hana had fired more arrows than she could count.
In less than twenty seconds, she had turned the battlefield into a monster graveyard.
Her skills were about to expire.
The glow in her legs was already faltering, the superhuman cadence of her shots unraveling, and Hana braced herself for the inevitable exhaustion to come.
The weight of physical and mental strain, the collapse of her body after such brutal effort.
But what came… wasn't fatigue.
It was darkness.