I Stopped Simping and the Heroines Lost Their Minds

A week later, Arthur pushed open the doors of the Obsidian Hand guildhall and immediately stopped.

Nothing was on fire.

Garrick was assigning routes at the job board, Mira was drilling recruits in the courtyard, and Sylvia sat behind the front desk sorting contracts. Nobody was bleeding or shouting about bankruptcy.

Arthur looked back at Emily, Felix, and Chloe.

”I leave for one week, and the place becomes respectable.”

Arthur stood just inside the entrance, with Emily, Felix, and Chloe trailing behind him.

”I leave for one week, and the place becomes respectable,” Arthur noted.

”You should leave more often,” Emily said.

Arthur looked toward Sylvia. ”She says that because she wants my office.”

”You don’t have an office,” Emily pointed out.

”Exactly. She already took it.”

Arthur approached the front desk and placed Squad 7’s mandatory weekly report on top of Sylvia’s neat stack of ledgers.

Sylvia skimmed the academy results, the Grid 4-7 report, and the squad’s updated training notes. She reached the attached expense pages and stopped.

Sylvia flipped open the folder and sighed. She pulled out a thick stack of attached pages.

”Felix, why did you add an expense appendix?” Sylvia asked, rubbing her temples.

She scanned the list, which included replacement training knives, damaged uniforms, carriage costs, and dungeon food.

”Why did you record the socks?” Sylvia asked.

”Squad equipment was damaged during an academy operation,” Felix explained, adjusting his glasses.

”Those were my socks,” Arthur said.

”Exactly,” Felix replied. ”Personal negligence should not become a guild expense.”

”Then why are they in the guild report?” Arthur asked.

”For transparency.”

Sylvia shook her head and turned the page, finding Chloe’s contribution. It cleanly detailed the healing supplies used over the week, their remaining stock, and what she wanted to carry on their next field run. A thick line of ink had been struck directly through her requested potion order.

Felix had written in the margin: Potentially unnecessary. Chloe present.

Chloe looked at Felix. ”I am not a replacement for every potion.”

”Not every potion,” Felix corrected.

Sylvia picked up her quill and restored the full potion allowance without a word of discussion.

She flipped to the final page. ”What did you add to this, Emily?”

”I signed the last page,” Emily said.

”A major administrative achievement,” Arthur noted.

”My handwriting was legible.”

Sylvia closed the folder and accepted the report.

Before Sylvia could file the paperwork away, Tolan walked out of the back alchemy room carrying a sealed glass jar.

”Before you accept another contract,” the exhausted alchemist said, setting the jar on the desk, ”I need someone to confirm these rocks are behaving strangely and I’m not simply tired.”

”Both can be true,” Arthur offered.

Inside the jar was a pile of dark mineral dust.

”The guild bought cheap mineral powder for basic alchemy work,” Tolan explained simply. ”It should have burned evenly. Instead, the flame kept changing strength. The whole batch of salve was ruined. Nobody was injured, but it’s completely useless.”

Arthur picked up the glass jar, holding it near the light. He held the jar near the light. A faint ripple moved through the mana around the powder, although the stone itself remained still.

”It’s definitely wrong,” Arthur said, staring at the dust.

Emily looked at the jar. ”That is an impressively useless diagnosis.”

”I’m narrowing it down.”

Sylvia tapped her ledger. ”I already have the merchant’s name recorded. I’ve stopped payment on the rest of the order, sealed the unused bags, and told Tolan not to use or sell any of it.”

Arthur’s mind started running. ”We should investigate every mine connected to the seller. If this material—”

”Stop,” Emily interrupted. ”We have one jar of disappointing dirt.”

”Suspicious dirt,” Arthur corrected.

”Still dirt.”

”Now that your midterm is over and your academy restrictions have eased, we have an open contract,” Sylvia said casually. ”It’s simple enough that you probably won’t destroy another building.”

”Your confidence is touching,” Arthur said.

”The building belongs to someone else.”

Arthur read the header.

Contract: Glassjaw Warren

It was a cavern dungeon with a low-to-moderate threat level. The objective was straightforward: clear the fourth sector, remove the reptilian monsters known as Glassjaws, mark usable crystal deposits for the guild miners, and retrieve a small mineral sample.

Emily leaned over to read the monster description. The Glassjaws were heavily armored reptiles that attacked by charging headfirst.

”So the contract pays me to punch lizards in the face?” Emily asked.

”Technically, it pays the guild,” Sylvia clarified.

”Then the guild pays me to punch lizards in the face.”

Felix checked the fine print. ”Does the guild receive a payment bonus per intact crystal node?”

”Yes,” Sylvia confirmed.

Felix turned slowly to look at Emily. ”Do not punch the walls.”

Emily grinned. ”No promises.”

Chloe read the attached bestiary notes. ”Do the Glassjaws carry venom?”

”No,” Sylvia said, checking the bestiary notes attached to the contract. ”But they have crystalline teeth. Bites can leave small fragments embedded in the wounds.”

Chloe leaned closer to the contract. ”How deep do the fragments usually go?”

”Usually shallow. The problem is finding all of them before healing closes the wound.” Sylvia replied.

”Before we leave, I want to speak with Matron Beatrice,” Chloe announced.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. ”Why am I included in that sentence?”

”Because healing a bite before removing every fragment could seal crystal inside the wound,” Chloe said. ”I want Beatrice to check our tools and show me the safest way to remove them.”

Arthur nodded slowly. ”That sounds highly educational for you. You can go without me.”

Chloe pointed a finger directly at the temporary leather wrap strapped to Arthur’s forearm.

”She also told you to report to the infirmary before your next field deployment.”

”That sounds suspiciously like an order,” Arthur noted.

”It was.”

Arthur looked from Chloe to the wrap around his wrist. ”I preferred you when you were less responsible.”

Arthur took Sylvia’s quill and signed the bottom of the Glassjaw Warren contract.

”Departure is in three days,” Sylvia said, pulling the parchment back. ”Try to submit your next report without twelve pages devoted to socks.”

Felix adjusted his glasses. ”The socks occupied one line.”

”The principle occupied twelve pages,” Arthur corrected.

Emily rolled up their copy of the dungeon map and tucked it under her arm. ”Three days until paid lizard punching.”

Chloe carefully gathered her medical notes, already planning her questions for Beatrice.

Arthur glanced at the sealed jar. It looked like ordinary dirt again.

”Keep that jar sealed,” Arthur told him.

”I was planning to drink it,” Tolan replied flatly.

”This is why I give instructions,” Arthur said.