Ranger is one of such a powerful class, brimming with countless possibilities.
In Deathborn, even the simplest classes, with some development, could transform into something truly terrifying and evolve into specialized, unique roles.
I’ve always loved that about the game, how everything seemed to start humbly but had the potential to bloom into something extraordinary.
There are so many class pathways, and while most of them end up converging in similar sequences, only one in each category can dominate and evolve into the ultimate class. That’s where I’m headed.
As for My class? It’s tied to death and darkness.
Classes like Prince of Darkness, Heir of Darkness, and Apocalypse of Death come close, but mine? Mine is uniquely balanced and a perfect combination of combat and support. It leans more toward support, which is rare, and that makes it a wildcard, a sleeper hit.
And no, I didn’t choose necromancy. Why? Because that’s just asking for trouble. Once you gain any attention as a necromancer, you’re marked. Hunted. Every nation, every religious orthodoxy would chase you.
Simply, you can’t afford to pull such an aggro from everyone.
I could’ve taken the risk, relied on the kind of plot armor that every transmigration seems to be blessed with. But honestly, that’s a gamble I’m not willing to take. Not yet.
So, I decided to play it safe.
I stare into the mirror, taking in the hollow, blank expression on my face. My breath feels steady, but the strain is unmistakable. I’ve gotten close to Ashton, which was no small feat. But getting others? That’s going to be tougher. Still, I’ll try.
You’re probably wondering what the greatest power I have is, being a transmigrator who knows the plot. The answer is simple: knowledge.
Knowing the details of the people around me, understanding their strengths, weaknesses, and stories—that’s my trump card. In the game, so many good characters died alongside villains. Tragic waste, really. But what if I could change that?
What if I could stop the villains early? What if I could shift their fates and bring the main cast together, united, under my control?
"What a lineup that would be," I mutter to myself, smirking at the thought.
This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.
I move to unbutton my shirt, my mind swirling with plans and possibilities.
As the fabric falls away, the sight hits me. My chest and back are a mess of scars and wounds. Some have crusted over with dried blood, while others are raw and fresh. Jagged marks on my back serve as a constant reminder of punishments endured.
My fingers brush against the whip hanging on the wall. Its cold leather sends a familiar shiver up my spine. I grip it firmly, the weight grounding me.
"You’ve got this," I whisper, steeling myself.
The sharp crack echoed through the room, followed by a burst of pain that jolted through me having a sharp and immediate. I hissed through his teeth, but didn’t stop.
I did it again. And again.
"You can take it. You have to."
The lash cracks through the air like a gunshot, biting into my back. Pain tears through me, sharp and unforgiving. My knees almost buckle, but I force myself to stay upright.
"Again," I growl, my voice low and filled with resolve.
The strike kept getting worse. Fire spreads across my skin, and I feel the wet warmth of blood trickling down my spine. My breath hitches, but I grit my teeth.
"You’re stronger than this," I remind myself.
The sound of the whip echoes in my ears, each crack louder, sharper, almost punishing me for daring to challenge my limits. Sweat drips down my face, mingling with tears I refuse to acknowledge.
"Keep going," I whisper. "You can handle it."
Each lash sends waves of agony crashing through me, relentless and consuming. My muscles tense with every strike, the pain carving itself into my body. Blood soaks into the waistband of my pants, dripping onto the floor in thick, crimson streaks.
When I stumble forward, catching myself on the sink, I stare at my reflection through a haze of sweat and tears. The image is almost unrecognizable, a blend of exhaustion and defiance.
"It doesn’t matter," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Pain means nothing. You’ve survived worse."
My back screams in protest, every nerve alive with fire, but somewhere deep inside, something stirs. The pain is no longer just punishment rather it’s a test, a challenge to get the befitting result.
"Just one more," I mutter.
The whip bites into my flesh again, cruel and unyielding. My body trembles, but I refuse to fall. Blood flows freely now, pooling on the floor beneath me. The stinging mixes with a strange numbness, a surreal detachment from the pain.
Finally, I let the whip fall from my hand. My chest heaves as I lean heavily against the sink, my body drenched in sweat and blood. The pain lingers, but it feels distant now, like a shadow of what it once was.
I wipe my face with a trembling hand, smearing tears and grit across my cheek. I look at my reflection again, battered but unbroken.
The scars on my body aren’t just marks of suffering—they’re proof. Proof of survival. Proof of strength.
In the silence, I whisper to myself,.
And for the first time in a long time, I believe it.
[Skill Unlocked: Pain Tolerance]
"Fuck!Finally."
I screamed in joy and opened the stat.
---
Name: Luke Star
Class: Novice Huntsman
Species: Human
[Stats]
Strength: 0.48 >> 2.1
Dexterity: 0.7 >> 3.2
Constitution: 0.28 >> 1.8
Agility: 0.7 >> 3.0
Perception: 1.4 >> 5.0
Wisdom: 0.8 >> 2.5
Willpower: 9.8 >> 9.8 (unchanged, as it’s already high)
Mana Capacity: 1.5 >> 2.8
Potential: 3 >> 3 (unchanged)
[Abilities]
None
[Weapon Mastery]
Dagger Style (Novice): 89% >> 100% (Mastered)
Archery (Adept): 20% >> 60%
Swordsmanship (Novice): 70% >> 90%
Unarmed Combat Style (Novice): 93% >> 100% (Mastered)
[Spells]
None
[Talents/Blessings]
Death Sovereign
???
[Skills]
[Shadow Step (Novice): 0% >> 60%]
[Soul Reap (Novice): 0% >> 55%]
[Hunter Instinct (Adept): 0% >> 60%]
[Predator Gaze (Adept): 0% >> 58%]
[Keen Insight (Adept): 0% >> 60%]
[Spectral Vision (Adept): 0% >> 56%]
[Death Embrace (Adept): 0% >> 57%]
[Shadow Pouch (Novice): 0% >> 50%]
[Pain tolerance(Novice):1%]