Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 1012

The gateway shimmered softly as the team emerged one by one, the ethereal glow of the mana-transition fading behind them.

The moment their boots touched the polished stone of the academy's central staging plaza, a subtle breeze swept past—cool, fresh, and so different from the heat-choked fog they had just left behind. The contrast was sharp enough to feel like a physical shift. Real space. Real ground.

And despite the ache in their limbs and the wear in their joints—there was a buzz among them.

Adrenaline hadn't quite faded yet.

"Well," Layla said first, adjusting her shoulder strap and exhaling hard, "that went way better than I thought it would."

Jasmine groaned, flexing her neck. "I still have no idea how you keep tanking that crap and walk out without falling over."

"Years of spite and training," Layla said with a smirk.

Irina stretched her arms, a faint sheen of sweat still on her brow, but her posture was unmistakably relaxed—confident. She'd landed the final blow, and she knew it. But it wasn't smugness. It was satisfaction. Controlled. Tempered.

Sylvie's voice was soft, but sincere. "Your spell... really was incredible."

Irina turned toward her, eyebrows arching slightly.

"I've seen it before," Sylvie continued, "but that precision, that compression—it wasn't just strong. It was elegant."

Jasmine let out a low whistle. "Yeah, that beam is insane. I don't even know how you manage to keep it that narrow without blowing yourself up."

Irina smirked slightly, rolling her shoulders. "Years of practice," she echoed Layla's earlier words, but there was something lighter in her tone this time. "And control blocks. And focus loops. And... maybe a little divine inspiration."

Sylvie chuckled faintly, while Jasmine shook her head. "No wonder the scouts are always talking about you."

Behind them, Astron said nothing—but his glance toward Irina held a subtle flicker of approval, just for a moment, before fading beneath his usual composed demeanor.

They stood there for a few seconds longer in silence, the relief settling in, their teamwork still fresh in their minds. No one had made a critical mistake. Every role had been played clean. The synergy was real.

"Hey," Layla said suddenly, brightening a little as she adjusted her gloves, "we just crushed a dungeon and didn't fall apart doing it. Don't you guys think we deserve something for that?"

Jasmine raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"A meal," Layla said, grinning. "I'm starving."

Sylvie blinked, but nodded. "I could eat."

Irina shrugged, folding her arms. "I'm not saying no."

All eyes shifted to Astron.

Astron's gaze swept across the group—taking in Layla's hopeful grin, Sylvie's quiet nod, Jasmine's raised brow. But it was when his eyes met Irina's that he paused.

She wasn't smiling.

But her golden eyes carried a certain weight. Expectation. Challenge. Maybe something else, just beneath the surface.

It wasn't demanding. It wasn't pushy.

It was… deliberate.

She was watching to see if he'd say no.

Astron held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

Then, quietly, without much inflection, he said, "Fine."

Layla blinked, eyebrows lifting slightly—not at Astron's answer, but at the unspoken exchange she'd just witnessed. She glanced from Astron to Irina, watching the way Irina's lips curled into a small, almost smug smile.

'...Seriously?' Layla thought. 'What's going on between those two?'

She didn't voice it.

Jasmine clapped her hands together, breaking the moment. "Perfect. I know a spot nearby—nothing fancy, but the food's hot and filling."

"I'm in," Layla said, stretching her arms overhead.

Sylvie gave a small smile. "Lead the way."

Irina fell into step beside Astron, her expression relaxed, that earlier fire subdued now into something quieter—self-satisfied. "See? Not so hard."

Astron didn't reply. But the corner of his mouth twitched. Barely.

And that was enough.

But at the same time, his eyes silently turned to the side.

Where he saw some gazes.

'I guess, it starts now.'

****

The restaurant was nestled beneath the outer ring of Arcadia's eastern faculty towers, tucked behind rows of stone-floored vendor stalls and low ornamental lanterns. The Hollow Hearth wasn't glamorous, but it was a favorite among cadets for one reason: no questions asked.

Warm lamplight flickered off brass-banded wood. The scent of roasted meat and herbs hung heavy in the air, and the low murmur of clinking utensils, quiet laughter, and exhausted chatter formed a familiar rhythm.