Omniscient Gacha you are too expensive!!

The first light of dawn crept through the window of Rayne's room, the soft rays illuminating the wooden walls and scattering across his modest belongings. At ten years old, he had grown taller, his once-childish frame filling out with the lean strength of someone accustomed to hard work. His blonde hair was still messy from sleep, but his violet eyes, sharp and unique, carried the spark of someone older than his years.

The rooster crowed in the distance, and Rayne rolled out of bed, stretching as he prepared for another busy day. He quickly dressed, fastening the simple leather belt that held his dagger—a newer, sturdier one he'd received as a gift from Garrek after proving himself in the forge.

He made his way to the kitchen, where his mother was already bustling around, humming a tune as she prepared breakfast. The smell of fresh bread and sizzling bacon filled the air, and Rayne's stomach growled in response.

"Morning, Rayne," his mother said, glancing at him with a warm smile. "You're up early today."

"Morning, Mom," Rayne replied, grabbing a piece of bread from the counter. "Figured I'd get a head start on the chores."

"That's my hardworking boy," she said, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Your father's already out in the fields. He could use your help once you've eaten."

Rayne nodded, wolfing down the bread before grabbing a second piece for the road. As he stepped outside, the crisp morning air greeted him, and he paused to take in the familiar sight of their farm. The fields stretched out before him, the wheat swaying gently in the breeze, and the barn stood sturdy and proud against the backdrop of the rising sun.

He spotted his father near the far end of the field, bent over a row of crops as he worked tirelessly to prepare the soil. Rayne jogged over, his boots crunching against the dirt.

"Morning, Dad," he called, earning a glance from the older man.

"Morning, Rayne," his father replied, straightening with a grunt. "You're just in time. Grab a hoe and help me with this row."

Rayne did as he was told, the familiar weight of the tool fitting comfortably in his hands. They worked side by side in comfortable silence, the rhythm of their labor punctuated only by the occasional chirping of birds.

"You've gotten stronger," his father remarked after a while, his tone filled with quiet pride. "I barely recognize the scrawny kid who used to trip over his own feet."

Rayne chuckled, shaking his head. "You're the one who made sure I didn't stay scrawny."

His father smiled. "It wasn't just me. You've worked hard for everything you've earned, Rayne. Don't forget that."

They continued working until the sun was high in the sky, their shirts soaked with sweat and their arms aching from the effort. By the time they finished, the field was ready for planting, and Rayne felt a sense of satisfaction as he surveyed their work.

"Go wash up and take a break," his father said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You've earned it."

---

Rayne headed to the river that ran near the edge of their property, stripping off his boots and splashing his face with the cool water. He lingered there for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet. It was moments like these that reminded him why he worked so hard—why he was determined to protect the life he'd built with his family.

As he dried his face, he noticed a faint shimmer in the water's reflection, and his heart skipped a beat. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the pendant that had become a constant presence in his life. The crescent moon etched into its surface glowed faintly, and he felt the familiar hum of the System stirring in the back of his mind.

He glanced around to make sure he was alone before focusing on the pendant. The translucent screen flickered to life before him, displaying a simple message:

[Gacha System: Balance – 20 Points]

[Progress: Continue working to earn rewards.]

Rayne frowned, tilting his head. The System's cryptic nature never failed to frustrate him. He still didn't fully understand how it worked or why it had chosen him, but he'd learned to trust its guidance.

"Twenty points," he muttered to himself, tucking the pendant away. "A long way from what I need."

He stood, shaking off his thoughts as he pulled his boots back on. There was still work to be done, and the System would have to wait.

---

As the day wore on, Rayne found himself back in the village square, helping Garrek repair a broken wagon wheel. The blacksmith barked instructions as Rayne worked, his gruff tone hiding a genuine fondness for the boy.

"Not bad, kid," Garrek said as Rayne finished hammering the wheel into place. "You've got a good eye for detail. Keep this up, and you might even make a half-decent smith someday."

"High praise coming from you," Rayne said with a smirk.

Garrek laughed, clapping him on the back. "Don't get cocky. Now, run along before I find more work for you."

Rayne grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow as he left the forge. He spotted Marcus near the well, waving him over with his usual enthusiasm.

"Rayne! We're heading to the woods to explore. You in?" Marcus asked.

Rayne hesitated. He'd promised himself he wouldn't take unnecessary risks, especially with the memories of the boar still fresh in his mind. But the thought of spending time with his friends was tempting.

"Fine," he said finally. "But we're not going far."

Marcus whooped, leading the way as a group of kids followed him into the trees. Rayne trailed behind, keeping a watchful eye on the younger ones as they laughed and chattered.

Rayne stood at the edge of the forest, the crisp morning air filling his lungs. The woods stretched out before him, their dense canopy casting long shadows over the underbrush. It had been a year since his encounter with the boar, but he still felt the pull of the forest, the untamed wilds beckoning him toward something greater.

"Rayne, are you sure about this?" Sienna asked, tugging at his sleeve. She stood beside him, her violet eyes wide with concern.

"I'll be fine," he said, ruffling her hair. "You're just going to stay in the village today, right?"

"Obviously," she replied with a pout. "But don't get eaten by something, okay?"

Rayne chuckled, giving her a reassuring smile. "I won't. Promise."

With that, he stepped into the woods, his dagger secured at his belt and a small satchel slung over his shoulder. The morning sun filtered through the leaves, dappling the ground in golden light. The forest was alive with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling branches, and Rayne felt a familiar thrill of anticipation.

The villagers had spoken often of a man named Alaric—a skilled hunter who lived in a cabin deep within the woods. Rayne had seen him a few times, a tall figure with sharp green eyes and a bow slung across his back, but they had never exchanged more than a nod of acknowledgment. Today, that would change.

---

Rayne found Alaric in a clearing, crouched low beside a set of tracks. The man's bow was slung over his shoulder, and his quiver of arrows rested against a nearby tree. He looked up as Rayne approached, his expression unreadable.

"You're late," Alaric said, rising to his full height.

Rayne blinked, glancing at the sun's position. "I came as soon as I could. It's barely past dawn."

"That's late in the woods," Alaric said, brushing dirt off his hands. "Animals move at first light. By now, most of them are already hunkered down."

Rayne frowned. "Then why did you agree to meet me now?"

"To see if you'd show up at all," Alaric replied, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. "Most kids would've turned back the moment they set foot in the woods alone."

"I'm not most kids," Rayne said firmly.

Alaric raised an eyebrow, his green eyes gleaming with curiosity. "We'll see about that. You said you want to learn to hunt?"

Rayne nodded.

"Good," Alaric said, motioning for him to follow. "But I'm not here to babysit. If you're serious, you'll have to prove it."

They spent the morning tracking a small herd of deer. Alaric moved silently through the forest, his steps light and deliberate, while Rayne struggled to keep up. Every snap of a twig beneath his boots earned him a sharp glare from the hunter, and he quickly learned to tread more carefully.

"Pay attention to your surroundings," Alaric said in a low voice, crouching to examine a patch of disturbed earth. "The forest speaks, but you have to listen."

Rayne knelt beside him, studying the tracks. "What do you see?" Alaric asked.

"Hoofprints," Rayne said, tracing the indentations with his fingers. "They're fresh. Probably deer."

"Good," Alaric said, nodding approvingly. "And what direction are they headed?"

Rayne squinted, following the trail. "Northwest, toward the stream."

"Not bad," Alaric said, rising to his feet. "Let's move."

The trail led them to a small clearing where the deer were grazing, their slender bodies dappled with sunlight. Alaric motioned for Rayne to stay low as he nocked an arrow and drew his bowstring back. His movements were fluid and precise, every motion honed by years of experience.

"Watch closely," Alaric whispered, his voice barely audible. "This isn't about killing. It's about respect. You take only what you need, and you do it swiftly."

The arrow flew true, striking a young buck cleanly in the chest. The animal staggered before collapsing, and the rest of the herd scattered into the trees. Alaric approached the fallen deer, kneeling beside it and murmuring a quiet prayer of thanks.

Rayne followed, his stomach twisting at the sight of the lifeless creature. He had eaten meat all his life, but seeing the process firsthand was different.

"Not what you expected?" Alaric asked, glancing at him.

Rayne shook his head. "No, it's… I didn't think it would feel like this."

"That's good," Alaric said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It means you understand the weight of what you're doing. A true hunter doesn't kill for sport. He does it to survive."

---

As the day wore on, Alaric showed Rayne how to field-dress the deer, explaining each step with patient precision. The work was messy and exhausting, but Rayne didn't complain. He listened, absorbed every detail, and followed Alaric's instructions to the letter.

By the time they returned to the village, the sun was beginning to set. Alaric carried the bulk of the meat in a large sack, while Rayne hauled the remaining supplies in his satchel. They delivered the meat to the village butcher, who greeted them with a grin and a hearty clap on the back.

"Good work, lad," the butcher said, nodding at Rayne. "You'll make a fine hunter yet."

Rayne smiled, his chest swelling with a mixture of pride and relief. It was a small step, but it felt like progress.

---

That night, as Rayne sat by the fire with his family, he replayed the day's events in his mind. The lessons Alaric had taught him—the importance of respect, patience, and precision—stayed with him, shaping the way he viewed the world.

The pendant in his pocket felt heavier than usual, a silent reminder of the journey he was on. He didn't know where it would lead, but for the first time, he felt like he was finding his place in the world.

And he was ready for whatever came next.

The forest stretched out before Rayne, alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant birdsong. He crouched low behind a bush, his bow drawn as he tracked a hare darting through the underbrush. His breathing was steady, his muscles taut, and his focus sharp. This time, he wouldn't miss.

Alaric's voice echoed in his mind: "A hunter's greatest tools are patience and precision. Don't rush the shot. Wait for the right moment."

The hare paused, its nose twitching as it sniffed the air. Rayne exhaled slowly, releasing the arrow. It flew true, striking the hare cleanly and ending its movement instantly. Relief and pride flooded him as he stood, moving to retrieve his kill.

"Well done," Alaric's voice called from behind him. Rayne turned to see the hunter leaning casually against a tree, a faint smile on his face. "You're starting to get the hang of it."

Rayne wiped the arrow clean before tucking it back into his quiver. "It feels like everything has to line up perfectly. One wrong move, and you lose the chance."

"That's hunting for you," Alaric said, stepping closer. "It's not just about strength or speed. It's about reading the moment, understanding your surroundings, and acting with purpose. You're improving, but don't let success make you sloppy."

Rayne nodded, tucking the hare into his satchel. "I'll remember that."

Alaric studied him for a moment, his green eyes sharp. "You've got potential, kid. Most people would've given up after missing their first few shots, but you kept going. That says something."

"I've had good teachers," Rayne said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Alaric snorted. "Flattery won't get you anywhere. Now, come on. There's a buck trail nearby I want you to see."

---

They spent the next few hours tracking a small herd of deer. Alaric moved with the quiet confidence of someone who had spent his life in the wild, his steps light and deliberate. Rayne followed as closely as he could, mimicking the hunter's movements and trying to make as little noise as possible.

"You're learning," Alaric said as they crouched near a patch of disturbed earth. "See these tracks? Notice how the edges are sharp? That means they're fresh."

Rayne studied the tracks, nodding as he traced the outlines with his fingers. "They're heading west, toward the river."

"Good," Alaric said. "Now, what else do you notice?"

Rayne frowned, scanning the area. "The grass is flattened here, like something heavy lay down recently."

Alaric grinned. "Not bad. This is a resting spot. If we're careful, we might catch them before they move on."

They followed the trail to a small clearing, where a group of deer grazed peacefully. Alaric motioned for Rayne to stay low as he nocked an arrow, drawing his bowstring back with practiced ease. He whispered a single word: "Watch."

The arrow flew silently, striking a doe with clean precision. The animal dropped instantly, and the rest of the herd scattered. Alaric stood, slinging his bow over his shoulder as he approached the fallen doe.

"Why didn't you aim for the buck?" Rayne asked, following him.

"The buck's bigger, but it's also the leader of the herd," Alaric explained. "Take out the leader, and the rest of the group loses its way. It's unnecessary damage."

Rayne nodded, filing the information away. He watched as Alaric murmured a quiet prayer over the doe before beginning the process of field-dressing the animal. The work was messy, but Rayne had grown used to it over the past few weeks. It was a part of the cycle, a reminder of the responsibility that came with taking a life.

"Your turn next time," Alaric said, handing Rayne a small blade. "You've learned enough to handle it on your own."

Rayne hesitated but took the blade, nodding. "I won't mess it up."

"I know you won't," Alaric said, his tone confident. "Just remember what I taught you."

---

By the time they returned to the village, the sun was beginning to set, casting the fields in a warm golden light. The villagers greeted them warmly, their appreciation evident as they unloaded the meat and supplies from their haul.

Rayne's mother smiled as he approached, brushing dirt from her hands. "Another good day, I see."

"Yeah," Rayne said, setting his satchel down. "Alaric says I'm improving."

"That's an understatement," Alaric said, giving Rayne a pat on the back. "This kid's got a sharp eye and a steady hand. You should be proud."

Rayne felt a flush of pride at the compliment but tried to play it cool. "I'm just doing what I can."

"Well, you're doing plenty," his mother said, pulling him into a quick hug. "Now go wash up. Dinner's almost ready."

---

That night, as Rayne sat by the fire, he thought about everything he had learned from Alaric. Hunting wasn't just a skill—it was a way of thinking, a way of understanding the world and his place in it. It required patience, discipline, and respect, all of which he was beginning to cultivate.

He glanced at the pendant resting on the table beside him, its faint glow barely visible in the firelight. The System had been quiet lately, but he could feel its presence, a constant reminder of the potential he carried.

For now, he was content to focus on the present, to hone his skills and grow stronger. But deep down, he knew that the day would come when he would need to unleash his full potential.

And when that day came, he would be ready.

The sun was already high in the sky when Rayne arrived at the clearing where Alaric had told him to meet. The forest was alive with the usual symphony of rustling leaves and birdcalls, but today, it felt heavier. Alaric had promised to test everything Rayne had learned so far, and Rayne knew the hunter wasn't one to go easy.

"You're late," Alaric said, leaning casually against a tree, his bow slung over his shoulder. His sharp green eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and expectation.

Rayne rolled his eyes. "You always say that."

"Because you're always late," Alaric replied, smirking. "Now, let's see if you've been paying attention. Today, we hunt alone."

Rayne blinked. "Alone?"

Alaric nodded, tossing him a bundle of supplies—a small pouch of dried meat, a flask of water, and a simple rope. "You've got until sundown to bring something back. No shortcuts, no help. And don't come back with something small like a rabbit."

"Is this a punishment or a lesson?" Rayne muttered, securing the bundle over his shoulder.

"Both," Alaric said, his smirk widening. "Now go. I'll know if you cheat."

---

Rayne ventured deeper into the forest, his bow gripped tightly in one hand. The sun filtered through the canopy above, casting shifting patterns on the forest floor. He moved carefully, his steps light and deliberate, as Alaric had taught him. Every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig set his senses on edge, but he stayed focused.

It wasn't long before he found tracks—large hoofprints pressed into the soft soil. He crouched to examine them, noting their direction and depth. "Deer," he murmured to himself, his pulse quickening.

Following the trail, Rayne kept his movements slow and steady, his eyes scanning the ground for more signs. The tracks led him to a small stream, where he paused to refill his flask and listen to the sounds of the forest.

The stillness was broken by a faint rustling in the bushes ahead. Rayne froze, his breath catching as he nocked an arrow and drew his bowstring back. Slowly, he crept closer, his heart pounding in his chest.

Through the leaves, he spotted a doe grazing near the water's edge. It was a perfect shot—clear, close, and unguarded. But as he prepared to release the arrow, something in the back of his mind stopped him.

He lowered the bow, watching the doe for a moment longer before stepping back into the shadows.

---

The next set of tracks led him deeper into the forest, where the trees grew thicker and the light dimmed. The air here was cooler, and the sounds of the forest seemed muted, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath.

Rayne followed the tracks until he reached another clearing. This time, it wasn't a deer that caught his attention—it was a boar, its massive body half-hidden by the underbrush.

The memory of his first encounter with a boar surged to the forefront of his mind, and he gritted his teeth, pushing the fear aside. He was stronger now, more experienced. He could handle this.

Rayne crouched low, steadying his breathing as he lined up the shot. The boar's ears twitched, but it didn't notice him. He released the arrow, watching as it struck the boar just behind the shoulder.

The animal roared, thrashing as it tried to flee, but its movements grew weaker with each passing moment. Rayne followed it cautiously, his dagger drawn as he approached the fallen creature.

He knelt beside the boar, murmuring a quiet prayer of thanks as Alaric had taught him. The forest seemed to exhale around him, the tension easing as he began the process of field-dressing the animal.

---

By the time Rayne returned to the clearing where he had started, the sun was sinking toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and red. Alaric was waiting for him, his arms crossed and a knowing smile on his face.

"Not bad," Alaric said, glancing at the boar strapped to Rayne's back. "You've come a long way from the kid who couldn't hit a rabbit."

"Thanks," Rayne said, setting the boar down with a grunt.

"But you hesitated," Alaric added, his tone sharper.

Rayne stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"The first shot," Alaric said, stepping closer. "I saw you lower your bow. Why?"

Rayne hesitated, unsure of how to explain. "It didn't feel right," he said finally. "The doe… it wasn't the right target."

Alaric studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded. "Good. You're learning."

Rayne blinked. "I thought hunters weren't supposed to hesitate."

"A good hunter doesn't take unnecessary shots," Alaric said, clapping him on the shoulder. "It's not just about skill—it's about judgment. You showed restraint, and that's just as important as accuracy."

Rayne nodded, a small sense of pride swelling in his chest.

---

That evening, as they sat by a campfire near the edge of the village, Alaric handed Rayne a small blade with a polished wooden handle.

"What's this?" Rayne asked, turning it over in his hands.

"A gift," Alaric said. "You've earned it. But don't let it make you complacent. You've still got a lot to learn."

Rayne smiled, tucking the blade into his belt. "Thanks, Alaric."

The hunter smirked. "Don't thank me yet, kid. The hard part's just beginning."

As the fire crackled and the stars began to appear overhead, Rayne felt a sense of calm settle over him. He had a long way to go, but for the first time, he felt like he was on the right path.

Rayne stood at the edge of the forest once again, the chill of early morning biting at his skin. His bow was slung over his shoulder, a new blade gifted by Alaric at his hip, and his quiver was filled with freshly sharpened arrows. This time, he wasn't just stepping into the woods for practice or lessons—he was venturing deeper than he ever had before.

Alaric had told him about a particular part of the forest, far from the usual trails, where the wild was less forgiving. It was a test of sorts, the kind of challenge that would separate a novice from a true hunter.

"You think you're ready for this?" Alaric had asked the night before, his gaze steady.

Rayne had nodded without hesitation. "I am."

Now, standing alone with the vast wilderness stretching before him, he felt the weight of that declaration.

---

The journey started smoothly enough. Rayne moved with practiced precision, his steps quiet and deliberate as he followed a faint trail through the trees. The forest here felt different—denser, darker, and alive with a quiet intensity that made his senses sharpen.

He paused every so often to examine tracks, broken branches, or tufts of fur caught on bark. Each sign told a story, and Rayne was growing more adept at piecing them together.

A set of claw marks on a nearby tree caught his attention. They were deep and fresh, and his pulse quickened as he recognized them as belonging to a predator. He adjusted his grip on his bow, scanning the area for any movement.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the wind. Rayne exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm.

Trust your instincts, Alaric's voice echoed in his mind. They'll guide you when nothing else can.

---

The tracks led him to a small clearing, where a narrow stream cut through the earth. Rayne crouched near the water's edge, examining a patch of disturbed soil. The predator—likely a wolf—had passed through here recently.

He debated whether to follow the trail. Wolves were dangerous, especially for a single hunter without backup. But this wasn't just about the hunt—it was about proving to himself that he could handle whatever the forest threw at him.

Rayne rose to his feet, his decision made.

---

Hours passed as he tracked the wolf through the forest, the signs growing more frequent and more recent. The sun climbed higher in the sky, its light filtering through the canopy in scattered rays.

Rayne moved with increasing caution, every step deliberate. He knew he was closing in—he could feel it in the air, the way the forest seemed to hold its breath.

A low growl broke the silence, and Rayne froze. Slowly, he turned his head, his heart pounding as his eyes locked onto the wolf standing just a few yards away.

It was larger than he'd expected, its silver-gray fur bristling and its yellow eyes fixed on him with predatory intent.

Rayne's hand tightened on his bow, his fingers instinctively nocking an arrow. He didn't move, didn't blink, as he measured the distance between them.

The wolf snarled, lowering its body as if preparing to pounce.

Wait for the right moment, Rayne thought, his breathing steady.

The wolf lunged, and time seemed to slow. Rayne released the arrow, watching as it flew true, striking the wolf in the chest. The animal stumbled, its momentum carrying it forward before it collapsed at his feet.

Rayne stood still, his heart racing as he stared at the fallen creature. He felt a mixture of relief, pride, and sadness—emotions that always seemed to accompany a successful hunt.

Kneeling beside the wolf, he murmured a quiet prayer of thanks, as Alaric had taught him. He placed a hand on its fur, acknowledging the life it had lived before beginning the process of field-dressing it.

---

By the time Rayne returned to the village, the sun was sinking low on the horizon, casting the fields in hues of gold and crimson. His body ached from the weight of the wolf slung across his back, but he felt a deep sense of accomplishment as he approached the butcher's shop.

Alaric was waiting for him, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. The older man's expression softened as he took in the sight of Rayne and his haul.

"Well, well," Alaric said, stepping forward. "I didn't expect you to bring back a wolf on your first deep-woods trip. Color me impressed."

Rayne grinned, setting the wolf down with a heavy thud. "Told you I was ready."

"You've got guts, kid," Alaric said, clapping him on the shoulder. "And a good head on your shoulders. But remember—there's always more to learn."

Rayne nodded, knowing the hunter was right. This was just the beginning.

---

That evening, as Rayne sat by the fire with his family, he recounted the day's events in vivid detail. Sienna listened with wide eyes, hanging on his every word, while his parents exchanged proud glances.

"You're becoming quite the hunter," his father said, his voice filled with quiet pride.

Rayne smiled, feeling the warmth of his family's approval. But as he stared into the flickering flames, his thoughts drifted to the deeper woods and the challenges that lay beyond them.

He wasn't just hunting for food or survival anymore. He was preparing for something greater—something he couldn't quite name yet but could feel growing stronger with each passing day.

And when the time came to face it, he would be ready.