The All-Rounder: Mastery Began with a Bow

"Leave?"

Grant froze like lightning had struck him. His outstretched hand hung stiffly in mid-air. He forced out a brittle smile, his voice trembling slightly.

"Why would you leave... now, of all times? Is it about the meat distribution? If there's any issue, we can talk—just talk, right?"

Anyone could hear it—he was panicking.

Leo's mother clutched her youngest son tightly, her face pale with fear. Her mind went blank. She didn't even know what to say.

Leo himself stiffened.

He remembered what Uncle Zach had said: that the Turner brothers probably wouldn't stay much longer.

'So soon?' he thought. 'It's really happening?'

"It's not what you think, Grant."

A man who looked somewhat like Wayne Turner, but younger, stepped forward—Warren, the younger brother. He didn't meet Grant's eyes.

"We've got no complaints about the meat or how you lead the settlement. We remember how you rallied everyone, dug the trenches, and pushed back the beasts."

"That's right," the other two men behind them nodded firmly.

"Then why… why are you leaving?" Grant's forehead was slick with cold sweat.

The settlement barely had twenty adult men. Losing four all at once—including the Turners—would be a disaster.

Leo's heart climbed into his throat.

He didn't want them to leave either.

Warren glanced at his older brother. Wayne nodded.

"Then I'll be honest, Grant. Please don't be angry."

"Of course not," Grant said, smiling weakly.

But he already knew what was coming. The kind of decision that came after weighing all the options—that kind of decision was unchangeable.

Warren took a deep breath and met Grant's eyes.

"Because… there's no hope left here."

It felt like something cracked in the air—like glass breaking.

"Grant," Warren continued, "we've got a little over a hundred people here at most. Less than twenty adult men. A handful of teens. Everyone else—elderly, women, children. Just a few of us feeding all these mouths? It's not sustainable."

"I know it's hard," Grant said quietly, "but we've made it this far, haven't we? We can keep going."

"And what about us?"

Wayne finally spoke, his voice steady and cold.

"You know the Zhao brothers over at Ironridge? A few years ago, they were just like us—pulling hundred-pound war bows. But now, they're in the late Body Tempering stage. They can pull three hundred pounds, easy. Why? Because they had enough food. If we had the same… we'd be there too."

Grant was speechless. The shame was written all over his face.

Because it was true. Every time they brought back a kill, it was mostly thanks to the Turner brothers. And yet, they'd never gotten more than anyone else.

"Grant…"

Wayne's tone softened. "Look, I get it. I do. But staying here? There's no future. Come with us to Ironridge. There's food, safety, proper training. Out there, if you've got strength, you've got a chance."

"That's right," Warren added, his voice hopeful. "Come with us, Grant. You've done enough for this place."

They had fought hard for this settlement. Their conscience was clear.

But now… it was time to think about their own futures, to get stronger, and give their families a life beyond constant hunger.

Leo looked at his father.

'He's not going with them… is he?'

Grant inhaled deeply. His eyes shimmered, but there was a smile in them.

"I understand," he said. "Ironridge is the smarter choice. I don't blame you. If it weren't for you, this place wouldn't have lasted as long as it has."

Relief washed over the Turner brothers. Still, a flicker of guilt lingered.

"You're not coming?" Warren asked quickly, catching on.

Grant shook his head, glancing toward their home.

"This place… it didn't exist before. We built it together. All of us. And I made a promise—to get everyone through this, together. Some of them are gone now—Quan, Dafey, Marcus—but their families are still here."

He turned back, eyes clear. "I can't abandon them."

Silence fell like a curtain.

The men's eyes turned red.

Wayne stepped forward, his hand firm on Grant's shoulder. "Take care, brother."

He turned to Leo, nodded, then walked out into the night.

"I'm sorry, Grant," Warren said, bowing deeply. Then he followed.

"Take care, Grant!"

"Stay safe."

The other two lingered for a moment, reluctant… then they, too, disappeared into the darkness.

Their footsteps faded. Then, only silence.

Leo watched his father. Grant stood there motionless, like a statue, eyes wet with unshed tears.

'Sometimes doing the right thing… hurts the most.'

Leo couldn't feel the weight his father carried—but he could sense it. And more than anything, he understood one thing clearly:

The settlement was weaker than ever.

He clenched his fists.

'No choice now. I have to level up Basic Archery. Fast.'

"Come eat, Grant." His mother's voice was pale and quiet.

Grant didn't move for a while… then gave a slow nod.

Dinner was the most "bountiful" meal they'd had in months.

But the mood at the table was suffocating.

Leo's mother gently placed extra pieces of rabbit meat into his bowl. "You trained all day, sweetie. Eat up."

"Yeah," Grant added. Quietly, he used his chopsticks to move even more into Leo's bowl.

Leo's little brother watched wide-eyed, his mouth practically watering. He only had two pieces in his own bowl.

"Dad, you eat. You need the strength more than I do," Leo said, flustered. He pushed the meat back toward his father.

"You eat," Grant replied with a faint smile. "I've lost my appetite."

Leo fell silent.

He stared down at the meat. The smell was overwhelming. Just boiled, with a pinch of salt—but so tender, so rich, it made his whole mouth water.

He gave in and took a bite.

Flavor exploded across his tongue.

And then—

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Stat Point +1

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"...Huh?"

Leo froze.