Gunner Craftsmanship (Normal)

Production Skill

You can now start crafting your own Guns! And who knows, maybe for others too?

Skill Proficiency: Level 1

Can repair and upgrade simple guns.

Blueprints available: Flintlock Pistol Upgrade Required material: Flintlock Pistol, 100 grams of Iron, 200 grams of Wood

Improve the quality of a flintlock pistol by 0% to 300% The chances of getting better quality pistols will increase as the skill proficiency increases.

• There's a slight chance of a weapon rarity increase during the upgrade
• There's a significant chance that the weapon will break during the upgrade
• There's a slight chance the upgraded weapon will have an additional option added

Luke stared at the skill description, his eyes widening with each line he read. This was far more detailed than he had expected. He had assumed it would just let him maintain his guns a little better at level 1, but this? This was an entire upgrade system. Not only could he improve the pistols he already had, but there was even a chance of enhancing their rarity. Of course, the downside was that there was also a chance they'd break, but with the sheer number of low-durability pistols lying around, that wasn’t really a problem.

His eyes shifted towards the pile of battered flintlock pistols he had been using for practice. Some were barely holding together, their barrels cracked, triggers jammed, and hammers rusted. "Yeah... running out of pistols is definitely not gonna be an issue," he muttered to himself, a wry smirk forming on his face.

Before he could get too lost in thought, he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. Charles, who had disappeared for the past half an hour, was finally returning. However, he wasn’t alone. Behind him walked a middle-aged woman clad in simple yet well-maintained nun’s robes.

‘Huh?’ Luke blinked, puzzled by the sudden addition of a religious figure to his training session. Nonetheless, he quickly straightened himself and offered a polite nod. "Good evening," he greeted.

The woman responded with a warm smile. "Good evening, young master."

Luke’s gaze immediately flickered to Charles, silently demanding an explanation.

“I brought Sister Elira, the designated family healer,” Charles said, crossing his arms. "I noticed that your hands were in terrible condition—calluses, blood, and even some pus forming on your wounds. You were too focused on training to notice, but it was getting worse. So I took the liberty of bringing her here to help."

Luke blinked and looked down at his hands. He had been aware that they were getting rough, but he hadn’t realized just how bad they had become. Now that Charles mentioned it, the skin on his palms was raw, torn in several places, with darkened spots where dried blood had mixed with dirt and gunpowder residue. The sting should have been unbearable, but he had been too caught up in the training to pay it any mind.

“Damn,” Luke muttered, flexing his fingers slightly. “I really didn’t notice.”

“Please, young master, allow me,” Sister Elira said, extending her hands towards his.

Luke hesitated for a second before complying, extending his hands to the healer. ‘Battle scars are one thing, but getting scars from firing a flintlock? That’s just stupid,’ he thought.

Elira gently cupped his hands, lowering her head slightly as she began a soft chant. “By the grace of Nutia, Goddess of Dawn, let the wounds of this soul be mended, let the pain be soothed, and let the flesh be restored.”

A faint golden glow emanated from her palms, enveloping his hands in a gentle warmth. Luke’s fingers twitched as he felt a soothing, almost ticklish sensation spread across his skin. The raw wounds sealed themselves, the blood and pus vanishing, replaced by smooth, unblemished flesh. Even the soreness in his muscles seemed to dull slightly.

Luke stared at his hands, flexing his fingers in disbelief. “That’s… crazy.”

Healing magic. He had heard of it, of course, but experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely. Seeing his battered hands recover in mere seconds was almost unsettling in how unnatural it felt. Yet, the comfort it provided was undeniable.

Just as he was about to thank her, his stomach let out a loud grumble. Luke froze, his face twisting in confusion. He had eaten twice already today at the training facility’s canteen, yet his stomach was growling as if he hadn’t eaten at all.

Sister Elira chuckled. "Ah, do not be alarmed. It is common to feel hungry after healing magic is used. The body expends energy to restore itself, drawing upon stored nutrients."

Luke rubbed his stomach, frowning. "So that’s why… Makes sense, I guess."

He then looked up and nodded at the healer, this time more genuinely. "Thank you, sister."

Sister Elira smiled before stepping back. “It was my pleasure. But please be careful. Magic can accelerate healing, but your tissues still need time to stabilize. Overworking your hands again too soon will only make things worse.”

Charles nodded. “That’s right, young master. You should take better care of yourself.”

Luke chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’ll be more careful.”

Charles gave a satisfied nod before asking, “Would you like anything else? Are you planning to continue training?”

Luke thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Not right now. But actually, can you arrange some iron and wood for me?”

Charles raised an eyebrow but didn’t press for details. “I can. Where would you like them delivered?”

“My room,” Luke answered.

“Understood.”

Charles then gestured towards the exit. “Should I arrange a carriage to take you back to the mansion?”

Luke waved him off. “No need. I memorized the path earlier. I’ll just walk back.”

Charles frowned. “Are you sure? It’s getting late.”

“I also want to explore the city a bit before heading back.”

Charles sighed but eventually relented. “Fine. But at least let two guards escort you.”

Luke clicked his tongue in annoyance but realized there was no point in arguing further. “Fine, fine.”

Just as Charles was about to leave, Luke hesitated before calling out, “Wait.”

Charles turned back, giving him a questioning look.

Luke coughed lightly, a bit embarrassed. “Uh… can you give me some money?”

Charles blinked before realization dawned on him. “Ah, of course.”

Luke had been given a banking card by Garhan, containing 20,000 sils. The rest of the sponsored money was safely stored in a bank under Luke’s name, but he could only withdraw it once he officially started attending the academy. For now, he needed something in hand to use in the city.

Charles immediately pulled out two slips of banknotes and a few coins. “Here.”

Luke took them, inspecting the currency. The coins were worth 1 sil each, and he had received five. The banknotes were worth 100 sils each, and he had been given two.

‘So I just casually got almost three months’ worth of living expenses for a family of four.’ Luke exhaled, shaking his head at the absurdity.

“Thanks,” he said.

Charles simply shrugged. “It’s my duty to be helpful. Besides, you’ll be returning the money from your card, so it’s not an issue.”

Luke chuckled. “Fair enough.”

Luke had walked out of the training facility, feeling the fresh air trickle his nose as he stretched. The two guards behind him were emotionless, just doing their duties as they followed him. Their presence was reassuring yet slightly unnerving, a constant reminder that he was still under someone's protection. They were equipped in fairly light gear, optimized for long walks, yet their disciplined stance and silent watchfulness made them seem more formidable than their appearance suggested.

The training facility was at the edge of the forest, a quiet and secluded area near one of Timberdell City’s lesser-used entrances. Luke had entered the city through a different gate before, but it made sense for a place this large to have multiple entry points. As he neared the entrance, he noticed a long line of people, each waiting their turn to present identity cards to the stationed guards.

Luke suddenly realized why Charles had insisted on assigning him guards. Even though they were there to protect him, they could also serve as proof of his identity, sparing him from an unnecessarily tedious verification process. He gave a mental thumbs-up to Charles for the foresight. Just as he was about to step into the queue, one of the stoic guards finally spoke, his voice firm and authoritative. He informed Luke that, as a guest of Sir Garhan, there was no need to go through the normal procedure. Without hesitation, they led him past the line. The stationed gatekeepers, upon recognizing the insignia on the guards’ armor, saluted and let them through without question.

'These guys must outrank the gate guards,' Luke mused, fully embracing the VIP treatment.

Luke, having been transported from Earth, was still easily fascinated by the smallest details of this world. The diverse fashion styles, the varying architecture, and the vibrant market stalls all captured his attention. He felt like a kid in a theme park, his head constantly turning as he took in the unfamiliar sights. Then, something made him stop in his tracks—a woman with dog-like ears, a tail swishing behind her, and fur around her neck walking with a similar-looking child. Luke’s eyes brightened with excitement.

'A Canthros! It looks even better than in the book!' he thought excitedly, recalling what he had read in Eldoria: The Introduction.

Seeing a Canthros in real life was an entirely different experience from just reading about them. The way her ears twitched and her tail flicked gave her an entirely new layer of realism that text could never capture. It was unfortunate, though, that Timberdell was so far from the mainland—he’d probably encounter far more demi-humans in the bigger cities.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by an irresistible scent wafting through the air. As he walked deeper into the city's bustling market district, he found rows of food stalls, each advertising some exotic delicacy. The sizzling meats, fragrant spices, and bubbling broths made it impossible for him to ignore his hunger. Without hesitation, he decided to indulge in the local cuisine.

He bought three different types of fantasy BBQ snacks for just 1 sil:

• Flame-Grilled Salamander Skewers – Juicy chunks of Salamander meat, marinated in a spicy-sweet glaze, grilled over an open flame until charred to perfection.
• Smoked Thunder Boar Ribs – Tender, slow-cooked ribs from a rare thunder boar, known for its electrifyingly rich flavor, served with a tangy fruit sauce.
• Crispy Serpent Strips – Thinly sliced serpent meat, deep-fried until golden brown and seasoned with a blend of exotic spices.

Each bite was a delightful explosion of flavor. He happily handed some of the snacks to his guards as well, an unspoken peace offering that quickly made them more talkative. Their stiff demeanor loosened, and they started explaining different parts of the city to him, acting more like personal guides than silent shadows.

Feeling adventurous, Luke strolled toward a vendor selling various trinkets and magical items. He absentmindedly browsed through the wares, using his unique ability to identify which items were genuinely useful and which were nothing more than overpriced junk. He secretly hoped to find some hidden overpowered relic, like the kind often depicted in webnovels, but reality was far less accommodating. However, just when he was about to give up, his eyes landed on something that caught his interest.

[Ring of Intelligence]

Type: Accessory (Ring)

Grade: Uncommon

Effect: +2 Intelligence

Durability: 40/40

Description: A simple silver ring embedded with a rare mana-imbued gem. Though unassuming, it enhances the wearer’s cognitive abilities slightly.

The ring wasn’t particularly useful to him right now as a Gunner, but increasing his Intelligence meant increasing his overall mana pool—a resource that could become crucial for his future skills. The best part? It was priced at only 5 sils.

Luke immediately knew that the shopkeeper had no clue about the ring’s stat-boosting effect. The vendor had likely valued it solely for the gem set into its band, treating it as a mere decorative trinket. In reality, even the most minor stat-boosting accessories usually started at 100 sils. This was an absolute steal.

Suppressing his excitement, Luke handed over a 100 sil bill instead of paying the exact amount.

The shopkeeper’s cheerful demeanor instantly soured. His face twisted into an expression of deep regret, as though he had just realized he had made the worst deal of his life. With visible reluctance, he counted out nine 10-sil bills and five 1-sil coins in change, his hands almost trembling as he handed them over.

Luke barely contained his laughter as he slipped the ring onto his finger and walked away, feeling victorious.

Having satisfied both his hunger and curiosity, he finally decided to head back to the mansion. Before parting ways with his guards, he casually handed them a 10-sil bill, telling them to split it among themselves.

The guards’ expressions went from neutral to outright delighted. Their stiff, professional facades cracked into genuine smiles as they bowed in gratitude.

“Young Master, if you ever need assistance, please don’t hesitate to call us! My name is Gerald, and this is Rick!”

Luke waved them off with a small smile before stepping into the mansion.

As he entered, his eyes landed on Reinna, Garhan’s daughter, walking out of the dining area. Out of sheer politeness, he decided to greet her.

She completely ignored him.

Luke barely managed to keep his expression neutral as his eye twitched in irritation. ‘Alright, that’s it. I’m never greeting this spoiled brat again, even if it means offending Garhan. I’m just petty like that.’

Shoving aside his annoyance, he made his way up to his room.

As he stepped into the room, he felt the weight of the day slip off his shoulders. Without hesitation, he made his way to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grime and sweat. The warm water cascaded over him, soothing his tired muscles and refreshing his mind. He let out a satisfied sigh, enjoying the rare luxury of a proper bath in this unfamiliar world.

After drying off and dressing in a comfortable set of clothes, Luke stepped back into his spacious room. As he ran a hand through his damp hair, his eyes landed on something unexpected in the corner—two large boxes, one filled with small metal chunks and the other stacked with thick pieces of wood. He blinked in surprise. Charles had been incredibly efficient, getting everything delivered within a few hours.

Curious, Luke walked over and inspected the materials. The metal pieces varied in shape and size, some appearing freshly cut while others had rough edges. The wood, on the other hand, looked sturdy and well-prepared, likely sourced from a high-quality supplier. He felt like Charles had over-delivered, but he just shrugged it off. Just as he was about to think about what to do next, a sudden realization struck him.

"Shit, I forgot to ask him to deliver the pistols too."

He let out a small groan, rubbing his forehead. Without the pistols, he wouldn't be able to test out his skill tonight. It was a careless mistake, but there was no helping it now. He could only wait until tomorrow to make the request.

'Well, I'm in no hurry,' he thought to himself. 'I still have five more days before I head to the academy.'

With that thought in mind, Luke stretched his arms and walked over to his bed. He felt a slight hunger gnawing at him, but it was nothing compared to the exhaustion settling into his body. He had eaten enough snacks earlier, and the soft, inviting mattress beneath him was far more tempting than a late-night meal.

As soon as he lay down, his body sank into the plush bedding, and a sense of comfort washed over him. His eyelids grew heavy, and before he knew it, sleep claimed him, drawing him into a deep and restful slumber.