29 - Coaching, Welcome to Clarice Academy

Clarice Academy's physical training room—and the archery range—swarmed with cadets during early mornings and late evenings. A natural side effect of weekday classes.

"That's him? Lev Denek?"

"Yeah. Shoots like shit."

Was it my impulsive outburst at the upperclassman Gailon? Or had that loudmouth spread the word around? Passing seniors were mocking me from behind.

"What rank did he get?"

"Not even on the freshman chamber rankings."

"Not worth betting on."

Just like that, I'd unintentionally become the academy's celebrity from day one of the new semester. Classes were fine since they were with my peers, but step into the training room or range? This was the vibe. No respect, no honorifics—just straight banmal from the seniors. Not exactly the recipe for good rumors.

"…"

Suddenly, a hush fell over the onlookers. A beat later came the predictable reaction: swooning over looks.

"Who's she…?"

"A freshman, I think?"

"She's gorgeous…"

It was Aria. She must have business with me, because she climbed up to the shooting platform.

"I heard you're dueling."

"You're not supposed to come up here unless you're practicing."

"You rented platform 2. I rented platform 1."

I glanced back. The seniors—especially the guys—were staring with a mix of emotions. One was unmistakably envy. And yeah, it was definitely because of Aria.

I loaded a crossbow bolt and said, "Keep hanging around me, and your reputation's gonna tank too."

"Who knows. I'm just here to return borrowed goods."

What she handed over was the neatly folded blanket. I'd been about to toss it, but guess I'd use it one more time.

"Put it behind you."

I raised the crossbow and aimed at the target.

"…What are you thinking this time?"

"Just the fallout from acting on impulse."

"It's reckless. You picked the wrong opponent."

"You think I'll lose too?"

"Of course—hic!"

Our eyes met, and hers darted downward. Was she… worried?

She seemed about to say something, then casually asked, "Gailon Sharptee. His reputation among freshmen isn't great. Is that why?"

"Hm… Can't exactly deny it."

"……"

In <Awakening Academy>, Gailon played the classic villain: the playboy who seduced freshmen girls and dumped them. With his fairy-like delicate looks and top-two status in the archery department right now, he came off as a talented senior. So yeah, my duel with him tied into boosting Selena's affinity—couldn't say it was unrelated.

Aria rested a small hand on her chin, deep in thought. Then, after a moment…

"Don't tell me… something to do with demons…?"

"You're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one of those types who jumps to brainrot conclusions, huh."

"…My apologies for the slip."

She turned her head slightly, embarrassed by her own words. What, did she think I was some demon-hunting zealot with fire in my eyes? …Fair enough. Easy to misunderstand.

"Anyway, it's reckless."

"Why do you care?"

"…Huh? Well, as a classmate…"

"Yeah, you're a real saint."

Her core goodness slipped out of me unbidden. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Of course she was kind to everyone.

"…"

We fell silent for a bit, neither speaking. I kept firing bolts while Aria… well, I couldn't see her expression from behind.

"Your actions are… just so unpredictable."

With that, Aria left without even using ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the platform she'd rented.

Selena Windforce. The one who clocked the training room almost as much as graduating seniors was her. Already over six hours today.

Stick around the lounge or cafeteria, and Gailon would come sniffing around.

"Hey, Lena!"

Calling her by some cutesy nickname without permission.

"Haha, still no word from Sylph?"

"If you want, I can take responsibility."

"Don't worry about the future?"

He knew everything, yet still fished about Wind Archery. But her family had raised the half-elf Selena since childhood, so outright ignoring him wasn't an option. Total bullshit.

Dodging him meant holing up indoors, boredom gnawing at her. After classes, she'd pour every hour into solo practice in a private booth, turning her into a total practice bug.

The silver lining? Drawing her bowstring was as natural as breathing—and something she loved. But even in what she loved, there was a wall she couldn't breach with effort alone. Like mages, archers hit plateaus too. Selena was starting to feel it keenly.

Always mindful, hyper self-aware, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she couldn't ignore the truth.

As the semester kicked off, more cadets challenged the Evolution Chamber. The archery department's top two hadn't touched it yet, but Selena? Not even ranked—she couldn't clear Trial 1.

Her arrows hit dead-on every time, no accuracy issues. But the damage? Laughable. And the gap? Clearly Wind Archery.

As impatience gnawed at her, one guy kept catching her eye lately: Lev Denek.

Ash-gray hair, rare black eyes. That annoyed, punchable face. Yet he showed up religiously at the range, just like her. Grabbed the crossbow like a kid doing homework—no real joy in it, or so it seemed.

Somehow, purely, he was enjoying it.

"That's the crossbow nerd?"

"What, nothing special."

"Total fluke."

Scorn poured in, but he ignored it and kept shooting.

'…'

His form was even better than last time. Tolerable, at least.

'Loosen up more… slower.'

Suddenly, Selena realized she was fixating. Not just watching—mentally correcting his stance.

A little guidance, and he'd improve fast. She flashed back to her first bow.

What had it felt like? Proving the half-breed taunts wrong. Overhearing villagers whisper "genius talent." Craving strength, lamenting her spirit disconnect. Vague, aimless.

Too long ago—torn, scarred past. Hard to recapture beginner's mind.

Thwack!!!

His bolt flew true, dead center.

"……Better."

Not perfect bullseye, but progress from before.

Objectively? His skill wouldn't beat Gailon—or even average Clarice archers. But the growth speed? Astonishing.

Beginners improve quick, sure, but Clarice range distances daunt civilians. Mage talent to this level? Insane practice required. Parallel training seemed impossible.

Selena's gaze kept drifting.

Maybe… he had archer talent, like passing the exam.

His words resurfaced.

"It's fine. You can just teach me."

"Wind Archery. Ridiculous. Elves only."

She shook her head. But… both denied family blessings and Wind Archery, forging odd kinship.

"Ha…"

"That's not how you shoot."

"Just loosen up."

"Eyes locked on target…"

'How'd he even pass the exam like that…?'

Selena itched to coach him live.

Clang!

Even with training room buffs, pushing past 2.0 stats got tough. Dungeons were the way for explosive gains. But courses dragged, traps everywhere, and party-required—not solo. Semester end meant dungeon crawls galore anyway. Patience.

Why grind like this? One reason: draw Selena's interest. Already planted four hooks.

First: Beating her in selection trials.

Second: Dueling Gailon.

Third: Knowing Wind Archery secrets.

Big fourth: Acting like a noob begging expert touch.

Day three. Ignored her gaze, kept the awkward tension.

Time. She'd ditched her usual private booth for public—to watch me.

'Chance… chance.'

Shwick!

I shot with deliberate tension—2% sloppy, tempting her to fix it.

'She gonna hold back?'

Her type: perfectionist, selfless. Easy exploit.

Gailon? Family power play to make her his concubine. Zero affinity.

Me? Crossbow klutz dueling him? She'd pity at least.

After a few shots, her firing slowed… then a deep sigh as she approached.

"That's not how you shoot a bow."

Finally…

"You'll just embarrass yourself against Gailon."

The coaching session I'd waited for.