Harem Training System: Every Girl I Train Makes Me Stronger!

Lia stared at the wooden ring in her palm, her thumb tracing its rough edge. Her mind was already working, decomposing the problem into its most basic components: distance, gravitational pull, the friction coefficient of the wooden surface, and the optimal release point.

’Kaela’s approach was flawed,’ Lia thought, her inner voice cold and analytical even amidst the festival’s chaos. She relied on raw momentum and aggressive wrist snap... that’s so her, alright.’

’Too much power, and yet... not enough finesse...’

’She compensated for the error with luck... Luck is not a sustainable strategy.’

"What are you doing?" Kaela asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the stall’s counter, a smirk playing on her lips despite her earlier victory. "You’re staring at that ring like it’s a tactical map of an enemy stronghold."

"Just throw the goddamn thing already."

Lia didn’t respond. She shifted her weight slightly, testing the cobblestones beneath her boots.

She squared her shoulders, her spine straightening with a military crispness that made several passing festival goers glance nervously at her. Her breathing slowed, becoming shallow and controlled, a technique honed through years of holding positions under enemy fire.

"Lia, seriously, you’re making this weird," Kaela muttered, though she couldn’t help but lean forward, curious. "It’s a piece of painted wood, not a consecrated relic."

Lia ignored her. She narrowed her eyes, focusing on the center bottle until the rest of the world—the screaming children, the lute music, the smell of fried dough—blurred into insignificance.

Her entire universe narrowed down to a single point: the neck of that glass bottle.

’Release at forty-seven degrees.’

’Compensate for the slight incline of the table...’

’Arc trajectory: parabolic.’

’Force: minimal but sufficient.’

With a motion so smooth it was almost imperceptible, Lia flicked her wrist. There was no dramatic grunt, no aggressive posture.

Just a clean, surgical release. The ring sailed through the air in a perfect, silent arc, cutting through the stale festival air like a blade.

Clack.

The ring settled around the neck of the center bottle with disturbing precision. It didn’t wobble; it didn’t bounce.

It simply landed, claimed the territory, and stayed there.

For three seconds, there was only silence between them.

"That’s... not fair..." Kaela said immediately, her voice rising an octave in outrage. "That’s fucking cheating!"

"That’s not playing the game, that’s... that’s tactical warfare! And we aren’t doing that right now, you dumbass!"

Lia turned her head slowly, meeting Kaela’s indignant gaze with terrifying calm. "I do not understand the complaint."

’I performed the action required by the parameters of the game..."

"The outcome was successful."

"You can’t just apply combat calculations to a carnival game, you absolute nerd!" Kaela threw her hands up in exasperation. "The point is to throw it and hope for the best, not to calculate the wind resistance of a piece of cheap timber!"

"You’re upset because I succeeded," Lia stated flatly, though there was something dangerously close to amusement dancing in the depths of her dark eyes. "Well... can’t blame it on you."

"I’m not upset about the success!" Kaela raised her voice. "I’m upset because you’re turning fun into a goddamn competition again!"

Kaela stepped closer, pointing an accusing finger at Lia’s chest. "This was supposed to be a break, Lia."

"A moment where we pretend we aren’t trained killers who could dismantle this entire square in under ninety seconds."

"You started the competition," Lia countered, stepping forward to match Kaela’s proximity, her voice lowering to that commanding register that usually made soldiers tremble. "You declared your ’victory’ and challenged my capability."

"In any other context, that would be considered a challenge to my honor."

"That’s completely different!" Kaela shouted, though she was fighting back a grin. "When I throw a ring, it’s a celebration!"

"When you throw a ring, it’s a declaration of dominance!"

"If you cannot handle a simple demonstration of superior physics, perhaps you should reconsider your approach to all future engagements," Lia said, reaching for another ring with deliberate slowness.

"Oh, you want to go there, huh?" Kaela’s eyes lit up with the familiar spark of rivalry. "Alright then, we’ll have it your way."

"Another round... But if I win this one, you have to admit out loud, in front of everyone, that ’fun’ is a valid concept that doesn’t require a tactical assessment."

Lia’s grip tightened on the next ring. "And if I win?"

"Then I’ll buy you whatever overpriced, sugary garbage you want from the food stalls."

"Deal."

Kaela didn’t wait for a countdown. She snatched up three rings at once, holding them like throwing knives.

"First blood or first ring is mine!" she declared, launching the first one with a theatrical grunt.

It sailed wildly to the left, nearly clipping the ear of a passing merchant selling candied apples. The merchant shrieked, nearly dropping his tray.

"Target acquired! No wait, wind correction needed!" Kaela yelled, already fumbling with the second ring.

Lia watched the near disaster with a look of profound disapproval. "Your technique is deteriorating under pressure, Kaela."

"You’re overcompensating for the loss of the first attempt by increasing your throw velocity... You’re throwing with emotion rather than precision."

"Shut up! I’m not under pressure; I’m passionate!" Kaela fired the second ring.

This one landed on the table with a pathetic thud, rolling uselessly off the edge. "Okay, that one was... a test run."

"For the third one."

"A test run that resulted in zero progress," Lia noted.

She stepped up to the line, her posture so perfect she looked like she was standing at attention during an imperial inspection. She picked up a single ring, holding it between two fingers.

"Observe."

Lia didn’t just throw; she executed. Her wrist flicked with the economy of motion seen in a master fencer.

The ring hummed through the air, landing with a satisfying click on the second bottle.

"Two for two," Lia said, her voice devoid of boastfulness, which somehow made it infinitely more infuriating to Kaela. "The sugar-based bribe is now a tactical necessity."

"You’re doing it again!" Kaela groaned, grabbing the last ring. "The ’I’m so calm and better than you’ face!"

"It’s disgusting, Lia! It’s unnatural!"

"It’s called composure," Lia replied. "Perhaps if you practiced breathing exercises instead of shouting at wooden objects, you would see better results."

"Breathing exercises? I’m a swordswoman, not a monk!" Kaela lunged forward, throwing the final ring with enough force to break a wrist.

It didn’t just miss; it struck the bottle with such violence that the glass shattered. A spray of amber liquid and glittering shards exploded across the stall.

The stall keeper froze. The crowd went silent.

"Uh oh," Kaela whispered, her bravado evaporating instantly as she stared at the broken glass.

Lia didn’t flinch. She simply looked at the wreckage, then at Kaela.

"Your ’passion’ has just destroyed the equipment. I believe that constitutes a forfeit."

"No fair! The bottle was defective!" Kaela turned to the horrified stall keeper, waving her hands frantically. "Sir! It was the physics!"

"This asshole here distracted me with her... her terrifyingly perfect posture! It was a psychological attack!"

The stall keeper blinked owlishly. "You broke my bottle, girl."

Lia stepped forward, reaching into a pouch at her belt. "Payment for the damages is being rendered immediately."

She produced several silver coins and placed them on the counter with the same exactness she used when counting ammunition. "My associate has demonstrated a catastrophic failure in equipment handling."

"Consider this compensation for the loss of property and the emotional distress caused to your establishment."

Kaela stared at Lia’s back. "Emotional distress? Lia, we’re in a festival, not a diplomatic summit!"

"The merchant’s livelihood is not a game, Kaela," Lia said without turning around. "Though your ability to play one is clearly subpar."

"Oh, you want to play?" Kaela’s eyes narrowed, a competitive fire reigniting despite the awkwardness. "Fine... New game."

"Strength testing... That hammer thing over there!"

"Unless you’re afraid your ’composure’ will crack when you realize you can’t swing a mallet without breaking a nail."

Lia turned, one eyebrow raised in a challenge that was almost playful. "Strength testing relies on kinetic transfer and proper center of gravity."

"I assure you, my grip strength exceeds yours by at least fifteen percent."

"Fifteen percent? Oh, it is ON now, Lia!" Kaela shouted, already sprinting toward the strength-testing hammer. "Prepare to eat my dust and my superior muscular leverage!"

Lia followed at a measured pace, already mentally calculating the optimal swing angle for the hammer. "Your confidence is statistically unwarranted, Kaela."

"Prepare to purchase my sweets."