Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest - Chapter 1022

Chapter 1022: Chapter 242.1 – Second
The quiet hum of the evening settled over Sylvie’s dorm room like a soft blanket. Outside, the faint glow of lamplight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting gentle lines across the floor. Her books lay untouched on the desk. The notes she had once reviewed religiously now sat half-open, forgotten.

She sat at the edge of her bed, her knees pulled in slightly, arms resting on them as she stared at the silent mana tablet on her nightstand. The events of the evening played on repeat in her mind—the scouts, the praise, the weight of it all.

Irina’s words, though few, had been steady in her ears all night.

“You’re being watched now. So tread with purpose.”

Sylvie had taken those words to heart. Even now, as she sat alone, she could feel the shift. The way people had looked at her—evaluated her—was different. She wasn’t just “promising” anymore. She was a candidate. A name. A prospect. And that meant… things would change.

‘What should I do?’ she wondered, her green eyes distant.

It wasn’t just about choosing a guild. It was about deciding who she wanted to be. What kind of healer. What kind of cadet. What kind of person.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft vibration of her mana-engraved communicator—an artifact like most advanced students carried, tuned to key channels.

The name on the projection made her straighten instantly.

Headmaster Jonathan.

Or, as she still called him in private—

“Master,” she whispered, her hand already moving to accept the call.

The faint outline of his figure appeared above the tablet: tall, composed, every line of his presence as sharp and immutable as a blade unsheathed. Even through the haze of the projection, his eyes were unmistakable—piercing, focused, and unwavering.

“Sylvie,” he greeted, his tone low but not cold.

Jonathan’s gaze didn’t soften, but his tone did—just slightly. “It appears,” he said, “you’ve made quite the impression today.”

Sylvie flushed, her fingers tightening where they curled over her knees. She looked down, trying not to fidget, though the quiet flutter in her chest betrayed her composure.

“I’ve received a number of calls,” Jonathan continued, voice even. “From scouts. From representatives. Some more professional than others. All of them very eager.”

Sylvie’s lips parted faintly, unsure whether to apologize or bask in the quiet warmth she felt rising in her cheeks. “I… didn’t expect that many.”

“I did,” he said simply.

That made her look up.

Jonathan studied her through the projection, his expression unreadable. “You’ve spent the last two months sharpening more than your magic. You’ve been learning how to move. How to think. How to trust yourself. All I did was remove the excuses.”

Sylvie felt her throat tighten, her chest filling with something close to pride—but steadier, quieter. “Still… I wouldn’t have made it here without your guidance. Master.”

Jonathan didn’t respond immediately. He let the word settle, as if measuring its weight, before inclining his head ever so slightly.

Jonathan’s projection remained still for a moment, the edges of his figure flickering faintly with stabilized mana. Then he spoke again, his voice low and deliberate.

“You’ve earned attention,” he said. “And you’ll earn more.”

Sylvie listened carefully, her posture straightening unconsciously.

“It won’t stop here,” he continued. “In fact, this is just the beginning. That’s why you must get used to it. The weight of being watched. Of being evaluated. Admired. Tested.”

He paused, letting the words sink in.

“You already know your talent. Better than anyone else. That’s why you cannot let their words define you. Not yet.”

Sylvie nodded slowly, her fingers tightening slightly around the edge of her blanket. “I understand, Master.”

Jonathan studied her a moment longer, then gave a faint nod of approval. “Good.”

His hand moved slightly out of frame—adjusting something on his end—and then he said, “For the time being, I’ll block incoming contact requests routed to you from external guilds or organizations. You’ll still receive updates, but there will be no direct pressure. As you already suspect… the best course is to wait. To watch.”

Sylvie let out a small breath of relief. “Thank you. I’d prefer it that way.”

His eyes met hers once more—sharp, unreadable, but steady. “Use this time wisely. Sort through your thoughts. The next steps you take will define more than just your career.”

She nodded again, more firmly this time. “I will.”

With that, Jonathan tapped a control rune on his end. “Good night, Sylvie.”

The projection shimmered once… and vanished.

Leaving Sylvie alone in her room, her reflection dimly mirrored in the mana screen’s fading glow.

But for the first time that night, her heart felt steady.

She knew where she stood.

And more importantly—she knew that others were starting to see it too.

******

The second day of the midterm practicals dawned colder than the first—gray clouds drifting overhead, diffusing the sunlight into a dull sheen across the academy grounds. Yet despite the gloomier skies, the mood around Team Fourteen was more focused than nervous.

They had gathered early, back at their familiar table in the academy café. Gone was the casual chatter of their earlier meetings. This time, their discussions were tight, deliberate.

Irina stood beside the projection glyph with a steaming mug in her hand, her fingers tapping across the floating interface as she reviewed the terrain specs from yesterday’s run. “Yesterday was a ruin-style collapse zone with vertical hazards and open sightlines,” she said. “We should expect something different today. Tighter terrain. Probably corridors, or partial blackout.”

Jasmine nodded, already sketching angles onto a tactical pad. “I’d bet on a fortified interior. If they want to test adaptability, they’ll give us the opposite of what we just cleared.”

Astron, seated with his arms crossed and his usual unreadable expression, gave a faint nod. “Control zones or retrieval missions. One of the two.”

Layla leaned over Jasmine’s shoulder, chewing idly on a piece of energy bread. “Either way, I’ll anchor point. We might get ambushed, so stick tighter during the first few minutes. I can take hits, but I can’t stop a pincer from three sides if you’re all stretched out.”

Sylvie had her tablet open, already adjusting her preset enchantment cycles. “I’ll keep low-light adjustments pre-loaded in case of blackout. If we get closed corridors, I’ll be relying on you two—” she glanced at Jasmine and Irina, “—to control the flow.”

Irina took a slow sip of her drink, lips quirking faintly. “Pressure line’s ready. Just give me an angle.”

“I’ll be center support again,” Astron said, eyes scanning the map without looking up. “If the terrain shifts mid-battle, I’ll flex where needed.”

No one questioned it.

The plan was set with the quiet efficiency of a unit that had already survived one storm together—and had no intention of stumbling through the next.

At 12:40 PM, they stood and gathered their gear.

Armor was checked. Weapons adjusted. Mana reserves confirmed. Each movement was smoother than yesterday. Quicker. Sharper.

By the time they arrived at the briefing zone, they were already being waved in by the coordinator.

“Team Fourteen,” the instructor announced. “You’re cleared. Proceed to Gate B. Today’s parameters will be revealed inside the entrance. Your score and survival conditions will depend on successful retrieval of the core object.”

The scouts were already watching.

Not as many as the day before, but enough.

Still, none of the cadets flinched—not even Sylvie.

Not anymore.

They stepped toward the gate.

And with a final glance between each other—Irina adjusting her gloves, Layla steadying her stance, Jasmine flashing a razor smile, Sylvie exhaling evenly, Astron lowering his gaze to the glyph—they moved as one.

Into the dungeon.

Ready for round two.