Adventures of the Blasted Marksman [Rewrite]

A teenage boy is suddenly thrust away into an unfamiliar world with nothing but fragmented memories and a great ability that not only gives him an unfair advantage, but also robs him of the one thing which could've made him something much, much greater.

Magic, dragons and castles. Sword fighting, northern raiders, and cat people. Guns, guts, and axes. Spearmen, halberdiers, and Holy Knight Orders. The old, the new, and the ancient. Empires, kingdoms, and tribes. [Levels], [Skills], and [System]. All of them, something they have, of which our hero does not.

Power. And what accounts for power in a fantasy world? Magic.

Something our hero does not have.

Presevere, survive, and adapt. An old human tradition, and perhaps universal to every other species as well.

A man without magic, mundane, and never destined for greatness. That, is the fate of all that has no magic in this world.

Only thing is, they're wrong.

Oh so wrong.

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Formalities aside. This is what I hope to be my first 'serious' webnovel. I'm relatively inexperienced so excuse any errors or dissatisfaction you may find in my work and simply blame the crappy teenage author for making that mistake in the first place instead of linking it to amateurism.

(Edit: Speaking of errors, I made one particularly in the first few chapters so I quickly made it so that the story would be a little bit more intruiging.)

Also, excuse the crappy cover. I preferred that horrid thing rather than having none at all. I do like thinking that I'm doing a semi-professional job after all.