As Abel walked to his Weapon Training class, he couldn't help but reflect on his conversation with Celia.
Nothing had gone wrong—not in terms of his plan, nor the interaction itself. He had anticipated that something might be amiss, but their conversation had flowed naturally, like any ordinary exchange.
His anxiety had been a constant burden, but it seemed Valerie was right, it wasn't as difficult as it seems.
Upon entering the training hall, Abel took in his surroundings. The space was similar in size to the Combat Training area, but instead of a single sparring arena, it was divided into multiple stations, each dedicated to a different weapon.
At the front of the class stood their instructor, a woman with purple hair and eyes. She was meticulously polishing a sword so shiny that it gleamed under the lights, as if she were determined to make it shine like a diamond. More than half the class had already gathered before her, waiting for the lesson to begin.
"We'll start now; the others can catch up when they arrive," she announced, her voice confident yet relaxed. "You can call me Rachael, and I'll be teaching you the art of every weapon in this room. Of course, my specialty is the sword, but my passion for weapons led me to master a variety of them." Her pride was evident and rightfully so. Mastering multiple weapons was no small feat, especially by her mid-thirties.
That kind of achievement was nearly unheard of, unless, of course, you were Abel, gifted with an extraordinary gift by the damn creator of this world.
"Alright, get to a station," Rachael instructed, waving the students off before heading toward the sword station, where most of the class had gathered.
Abel, however, made his way to the bow station—the least crowded section. He wasn't entirely sure what specific skill he needed to refine, but he had come to appreciate the value of proper guidance in training he got from Kyle's group.
Picking up a bow and a quiver, he observed the other students. Some demonstrated impressive proficiency, while others struggled in various areas. Abel's focus was on improving his speed and consistency. His current approach was already quick, aim, pause briefly, then shoot, but he knew he could be even faster.
Setting his target at five meters, he swiftly drew an arrow, nocked it, and released. The entire process took less than half a second.
To his surprise, he didn't completely miss—the arrow landed on the black outer ring of the target. A few nearby students chuckled under their breath, clearly unimpressed. For them, hitting a target at five meters was trivial.
Ignoring their amusement, Abel continued practicing. Within five minutes, he hit his first bullseye. Without hesitation, he moved the target back to ten meters and repeated the process, achieving another bullseye in just a few minutes.
Gradually, he increased the distance in five-meter increments. The same students who had mocked him earlier now took notice of what he was actually doing.
"I thought he was struggling with five meters, but… he's doing quick draw and he's already at a hundred meters?" one student murmured.
"I can hit a hundred meters," another admitted, "but definitely not with a quick draw."
Before long, Abel became the center of attention at the bow station. Students gathered around, watching him hit bullseye after bullseye. When he reached five hundred meters, he reset the target to five meters and grabbed two arrows.
Gasps filled the air as he nocked both arrows simultaneously. With the same swift motion, he fired—both arrows striking dead center.
Abel laughed inwardly. 'The author really did give me an overpowered ability. The moment I make a mistake, I instinctively know how to adjust until I get it right.'
Since time was limited, he decided not to dwell on two arrow shots and instead moved on to the spear station.
The crowd at the bow station was visibly disappointed. His display had been more than just entertainment—it was a lesson in skill progression, and many had assumed he belonged in the A-Class. But their surprise only grew when they learned he was ranked dead last. Speculation began to spread about whether his ranking was a mistake.
At the spear station, Abel once again found himself uncertain about the specific areas he needed to improve. Instead, he relied on his intuition, experimenting with different techniques, including ones he had seen in anime.
Just as he was preparing to move to another station, Rachael intercepted him.
"Where are you going, little fella?" she asked, stepping in front of him, arms crossed.
Abel blinked, confused. "Uh… to another station?"
"If you want to master another weapon, make sure you've fully mastered your primary one first," she advised, handing him back the spear. "As your teacher, I can tell you that's the best approach."
Her logic was sound—for an ordinary student. But Abel wasn't ordinary. He could pick up new weapons as easily as learning the alphabet.
"I appreciate your advice, but weapons are easy to me. I can learn them pretty quickly," he responded.
He wasn't concerned about keeping his gift a secret—at least, not entirely. He had no intention of revealing it's full potential, but he saw no reason to suppress his gift completely. He was here to learn, and hiding his gift didn't help.
Plus, his life was on the line. If he didn't make a major change, he'd be dead. If it came down to it, he would reveal his gift's full potential even if it meant attracting the attention of evil individuals.
Rachael, however, didn't take his words seriously. She had encountered many students who overestimated their abilities, only to hit a wall they couldn't surpass. She had once been one of them—convinced that mastering multiple weapons simultaneously was the key to success, only to be forced to confront reality.
"Even if you're talented, you should devote 90% of your time to your primary weapon," she insisted. "In real combat, you'll always rely on the weapon you've mastered. Why waste time on weapons you'll rarely use? Learn others when you reach a level where you can afford to divide your focus."
Abel nodded. He understood her reasoning and even agreed with it—to an extent. But his comprehension ability made his situation different. Still, he decided to heed her advice, at least for now. If he found her method inefficient, he could always return to his own approach.
"Alright, I'll do as you say," he said, setting down the spear and heading back to the bow station.
Rachael raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"
"To train with my main weapon," he replied, picking up a bow.
Rachael's surprise was clear. He was already highly skilled with the spear—far beyond the average academy student—yet he claimed it wasn't even his primary weapon.
Curious, she followed him.
Abel's return to the bow station was met with excitement. Students eagerly gathered around him once more.
Rachael, puzzled by their reaction, turned to a nearby student. "What's going on? Why is everyone crowding around him?"
The student grinned. "Oh, teach, you got here at the perfect time! This guy's bow skills are insane. It took him about thirty minutes to go from hitting a bullseye at five meters to doing the same at five hundred—all while using quick draw!"
Another student chimed in, "Look! He's already at twenty meters shooting two arrows at once! And the crazy part is, you can tell he's never done it before, but he figures it out so fast."
Rachael watched in disbelief as Abel fired another set of arrows, both striking dead center. A few moments later, he did it again.
"The best part is that we can actually see his learning process—the small adjustments he makes to perfect each shot," the girl added. "It's been really helpful, at least for me."
Several students nodded in agreement.