I Stopped Simping and the Heroines Lost Their Minds

”Three shots! On my mark!” Morwenna yelled. ”Fire!”

The air filled with the sharp snaps of bowstrings and flying wood.

Most of the close-combat students were terrible at it.

Cedric’s arrow flew high over the target and into the grass. Leon hit the outer white ring. Alicia managed to hit the blue ring, relying purely on her raw agility rather than proper form.

Arthur stood perfectly still.

He knocked an arrow.

He didn’t even bother activating [Eagle Eye].

At fifty yards, his base Perception of 86 made the target look like it was at arm’s length.

He inhaled smoothly. He drew the heavy bowstring back to his cheek.

Last week, his arms would have violently shaken and collapsed.

Today, his muscles locked into place like solid iron. The 26 Strength was more than enough to handle a standard 50-pound draw weight.

He didn’t hesitate. He let go.

Thwip. Thunk.

Dead center. A perfect bullseye.

Arthur smoothly pulled a second arrow, knocked it, and fired in one fluid motion.

Thwip. Thunk.

The second arrow split the wooden shaft of the first arrow entirely in half.

He didn’t even pause to admire it. He knocked the third arrow, pulled, and fired.

Thwip. Thunk.

It buried itself right beside the splintered mess in the dead center of the red circle.

Arthur lowered the bow. He let out a quiet breath.

Not bad, he thought. The Dexterity stat really does the heavy lifting for muscle memory.

The training field had gone completely silent.

Even the rustling of the wind seemed to stop.

Morwenna stared at Arthur’s target. Her ruby red eyes were wide open in sheer disbelief.

”Vance,” she snapped, marching toward his end of the line. ”Where the hell did you learn to shoot like that?”

Arthur turned his head. His expression was completely blank.

”I read a book on it over the weekend, Instructor.”

A few students down the line literally choked on their own spit.

A book? He learned to shoot like a veteran sniper by reading a damn book?!

Down the firing line, the protagonist’s party was staring at him.

Leon looked genuinely impressed.

Elara’s delicate jaw was slightly open. The arrogant Elf Princess couldn’t comprehend a human shooting better than her.

Alicia and Emily exchanged another long glance.

The disgust they usually felt toward the academy’s resident creep was entirely gone.

It was replaced by a sharp, piercing curiosity.

****

Morwenna didn’t laugh.

She walked slowly down the firing line, her heavy combat boots crunching in the dirt. She stopped inches away from Arthur.

She was incredibly tall. Her dark skin glistened lightly with sweat in the morning sun. Her deep red eyes bored into him, searching for a lie.

”A book,” Morwenna repeated. Her voice dripped with dangerous sarcasm.

”Yes,” Arthur replied, not breaking eye contact. ”Chapter four was very insightful regarding wind resistance.”

For a second, nobody breathed.

You didn’t talk back to the Dark Elf. She was notorious for breaking students’ bones for minor disrespect.

Without a single micro-expression of warning, Morwenna snapped her wrist.

The heavy wooden training cane blurred through the air. She aimed directly for Arthur’s ribs. It was a brutal strike meant to shatter bone and drop him to the dirt.

But Arthur’s Perception stat was quite high.

To him, the cane wasn’t a blur. It was moving in slow motion.

Arthur didn’t panic. He simply pivoted his back foot and shifted his weight backward.

Whoosh.

The wooden cane whistled past his chest, missing his ribs by a fraction of an inch. The wind from the sheer force of the swing ruffled his collar.

Arthur stood perfectly balanced, his hands still resting casually at his sides.

The entire class gasped collectively.

Leon’s eyes widened. Alicia gripped her practice sword tightly, her jaw tightening. He dodged an instructor’s surprise strike?

Morwenna froze, her cane extended into empty air.

Slowly, she pulled the weapon back. A dark, twisted, absolutely sadistic smile spread across her dark lips.

”Good reflexes for a piece of trash,” Morwenna purred, her eyes trailing down his newly muscular chest.

”I’m trash that reads, Instructor,” Arthur replied evenly.

Morwenna took a half-step forward, completely invading his personal space. She leaned in close, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous whisper meant only for him.

”You think dodging one swing makes you special, Vance?” she murmured, her red eyes gleaming with violent promise. ”I break prodigies for fun.”

Arthur didn’t flinch. He didn’t drop his gaze.

”I’m not a prodigy,” Arthur said flatly. ”But you’re welcome to try.”

”Don’t get cocky, cadet,” Morwenna snapped, stepping back. Her voice was loud again, but it lacked its usual venom. ”Reflexes won’t save you if you don’t have the stamina to keep running. Back in line!”

Arthur gave a lazy salute and stepped back.

Ding.

[Dexterity +0.5]

The rest of the physical assessment was brutal. Morwenna ran them through obstacle courses, sprint drills, and heavy lifting.

Arthur didn’t dominate everything. His Strength was 26. Across the field, Leon and Cedric were easily lifting double his weight, showing off the monstrous physical stats of true vanguards.

But Arthur wasn’t coughing. He didn’t collapse.

He kept a steady, perfectly paced rhythm. He cleared the obstacle courses with terrifying fluidity. His high Dexterity made his movements look like a choreographed dance. He vaulted over walls and slid under barbed wire without a single wasted motion.

When the two-hour class finally ended, the students were completely exhausted, covered in sweat and dirt.

”Class dismissed!” Morwenna shouted.

She threw one last lingering, heated glance at Arthur before turning and walking off the field.

Arthur grabbed his towel. He wiped the dirt from his face, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked toward the exit.

”Hey. Vance.”

Arthur paused. He turned his head.

Alicia Valentine was marching toward him. Her posture was completely rigid. Her fiery red hair caught the sunlight, and her green eyes were narrowed in cold, sharp suspicion.

She stopped three feet away, crossing her arms under her chest.

”What did you do?” Alicia demanded. Her tone was absolute ice.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. ”Excuse me?”

”Don’t play dumb with me,” Alicia snapped, stepping closer. ”Last week you couldn’t walk up a flight of stairs without coughing up blood. Today you’re perfectly drawing a fifty-pound bow and dodging Instructor Morwenna. What kind of illegal stimulant are you taking?”

The original Arthur would have stuttered. He would have stared at her chest, apologized profusely, and tried to beg for her forgiveness just for being in her presence.

Arthur looked her dead in the eye.

”Are you the academy inspector, Valentine?” Arthur asked, his voice completely flat.

Alicia blinked, taken aback by the coldness in his tone. ”No, but—”

”Then mind your own damn business,” Arthur cut her off.

Alicia’s jaw dropped slightly. ”Excuse me?”

”You heard me,” Arthur said, tossing his towel over his shoulder. ”I don’t owe you an explanation for my workout routine. You’re just pissed because the academy creep shot a better grouping than the genius swordswoman of the Valentine Duchy.”

Alicia’s face flushed bright red with sudden, violent anger. ”You arrogant—”

He didn’t wait for her reply. He just walked away.

Alicia Valentine was left standing in the middle of the dirt field, completely frozen. Her pride was wounded. Her blood was boiling.

But as she watched his broad back disappear into the academy halls, the disgust she usually felt was gone. In its place was a burning, undeniable spark of curiosity.