I Stopped Simping and the Heroines Lost Their Minds

By Monday, Arthur had finally stopped smelling like the Old South Aqueduct.

Mostly. Emily claimed otherwise, but Morwenna apparently didn’t give a shit. He was already sweating on the mats of the underground training hall when she made good on her threat from last week.

Arthur assumed moving up meant lifting heavier weights. He was wrong. Morwenna sent him straight into the section where the vanguard fighters were drilling clinch breaks, weighted carries, and wall escapes. The goal wasn’t just to lift heavy things; it was keeping his balance while some massive motherfucker actively tried to put him on the floor.

”You could’ve mentioned this group was full of people built like fucking Felix,” Arthur told her.

”Then you might have found an excuse,” Morwenna said.

”I would’ve found several.”

Morwenna waved Emily over for the next drill.

”Wall escape,” she said. ”Thorne starts with control.”

Arthur backed against the padded wall while Emily stepped in front of him. She planted one forearm across his upper chest and crowded close enough to block his right side with her hip.

Arthur looked down at her. ”You seem happy.”

”Very.”

”Begin,” Morwenna said.

Emily drove him back into the padding.

Arthur immediately went for the grip escape he’d practiced before, then stopped. There wasn’t a single wrist to break loose from. Emily had his chest, shoulder, and hips trapped all at once.

”Problem?” Emily asked.

”Several.”

He dropped his weight, shoved his forearm between them, and turned hard instead of trying to push her straight back. His extra strength gave him enough room to slide one shoulder free.

Arthur slipped out along the wall.

Emily turned after him. ”Again.”

The second attempt lasted longer.

Emily changed her stance, pressed her hip tighter against his, and killed the space before Arthur could turn. He managed to free one arm, but the rest of him stayed pinned.

Morwenna watched for another few seconds before calling it.

”Better,” she said. ”But you’re still trying to solve full-body control like it’s a wrist grab.”

Arthur stepped away from the wall, breathing harder than he wanted to admit. ”Your praise remains fucking inspiring.”

On the third wall escape, Arthur got his shoulder free but left his hips too high.

Morwenna stopped them and stepped in behind him. Her hands clamped firmly onto his hips and shoved his stance into place. She kicked one of his legs wider with her boot, then pressed a hand against his lower back.

They were both soaked in sweat by then. Morwenna had spent most of the class demonstrating drills herself, and her chest brushed Arthur’s back when she forced his stance lower.

Arthur went still for half a second.

”Lower,” Morwenna said near his ear.

Arthur lowered his stance.

”I meant your center of gravity.”

Arthur glanced back at her over his shoulder.

Morwenna’s eyes narrowed. ”Say it.”

Arthur decided living was nice. ”Nothing, Professor.”

During a short water break, Arthur used his shirt to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. When he lowered the fabric, he caught himself staring right at Morwenna. She had just finished demonstrating a takedown on one of the third-years. Her dark hair was tied back, exposing the long, pointed tips of her ears. Sweat was running down her neck, shining against her dark skin and trailing straight into the collar of her tight training shirt.

Morwenna caught him staring.

”Finished?”

Arthur lowered his shirt. ”Not really.”

Morwenna stared at him for a second. ”Good. You’re next.”

She threw him into a drill with a larger melee student. The guy immediately grabbed Arthur’s jacket, trying to muscle him into a pin against the mat.

Arthur didn’t try to overpower him. He shifted his hips, broke one arm free, drove the rubber handle of his training knife into the inside of the man’s elbow, and immediately cleared the distance.

Morwenna nodded once. ”Again.”

They reset. On the second attempt, the larger opponent anticipated the hip shift, trapped Arthur’s arm, and dumped him face-first into the mat.

When the session finally ended, the students started dragging themselves toward the exits. Emily lingered near the door while she packed her bag. Arthur made no move toward his own things.

”Try not to die twice.”

She slung her bag over one shoulder and left.

Once they were alone, Morwenna walked over and told Arthur that the advanced group had exposed one remaining problem. He could escape a single grip fine now. But the second somebody got chest-to-chest and actually controlled his hips, he still got fucked.

She demonstrated.

Arthur barely had time to set his feet.

THUD!

He hit the mat hard. Morwenna came down with him, one knee trapping his leg while her weight kept his hips flat.

”I’m starting to think you enjoy this,” Arthur groaned.

”You make it easy,” Morwenna said.

They reset. This time, Arthur adapted. When she stepped in, he jammed one leg between hers, caught her around the waist, and turned hard as she drove forward.

They went down together.

”Ahn—”

Morwenna’s back hit the mat with Arthur on top of her. He caught both wrists and pinned them beside her head.

For about two seconds, she stayed there.

Both of them were breathing hard. Neither moved.

Morwenna’s face was right below his. Even pinned, her wrists stayed tense under his hands. Their sweat-slick bodies were pressed tight together.

Morwenna looked at his mouth. Then her crimson eyes flicked back up to his.

”Two seconds again?” Arthur asked, his voice rougher than he intended.

”One and a half,” Morwenna whispered.

She twisted her hips, broke his grip, and reversed him brutally.

THUD!

Arthur was flat on his back again.

Morwenna stayed on top of him. One thigh pinned his leg while her hand kept his wrist against the mat. Her chest rose against his with each breath.

”You’ve been looking at me all afternoon,” Morwenna said.

Arthur didn’t try to bullshit her. ”You noticed.”

”I notice everything in my ring.”

”That sounds inconvenient.”

Morwenna tightened her hold on his wrist slightly. ”Not always.”

Morwenna leaned closer.

Arthur didn’t move.

Her thumb dragged slowly along his sweaty jaw. Up this close, all Arthur could smell was sweat and leather.

Then she pushed herself off him and stood up.

Arthur lay there for a second, his heart hammering. ”That’s it?”

Morwenna started collecting the loose training straps from the floor. ”Disappointed?”

Arthur sat up. ”Deeply.”

Morwenna tossed a strap into the equipment bin and looked back at him over her shoulder.

”Come back tomorrow after evening drills.”

Arthur paused. ”For training?”

Morwenna looked him over once, from his sweat-soaked shirt down to his boots.

”Come prepared to sweat.”

”That doesn’t answer the question.”

”I know.”

Then she turned and walked away.