Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 1017



Chapter 1017 Chapter 240.1 - Saw

"So. You're saying I'm not charismatic normally?"

Astron turned to look at her fully, his gaze calm as ever, but this time there was something undeniably deliberate in his pause-like he was giving her one last chance to brace herself.

"That much," he said flatly, "must be obvious even to you."

Irina stopped in her tracks.

Her eyes narrowed, sharp and glinting with heat. "Obvious, huh?"

Astron met her stare without a flicker of hesitation. "You're too stubborn. Too direct. And your temper flares in under five seconds."

"And yet somehow," she shot back, stepping up beside him again, "people still line up to listen when I speak."

"They're scared of you," he said, almost too fast.

Irina blinked. "Scared?"

Astron shrugged, hands tucked casually in his pockets. "Charisma through fear is still charisma."

"You little-" She exhaled, half-laughing now, trying not to give him the satisfaction. "You really know how to kill a compliment."

"You were the one who asked."

Irina shook her head and smacked him lightly on the arm as they walked. "You know, for someone who barely talks to people, you've got a real talent for getting under their skin."

"I consider it efficient."

She scoffed, but couldn't stop the grin tugging at her lips.

Despite everything-the long day, the tension with the scouts, the uncertainty ahead-somehow, with Astron beside her and his dry honesty filling the air like it always did, the world felt just a little easier to walk through. A little lighter. Warmer.

She smiled, quietly, and didn't bother hiding it.

Inside the simulated dungeon zone, the air was thick with the lingering stench of scorched flesh and mineral-heavy mana. Cracked stone and smoldering embers painted the aftermath of battle across the collapsed corridor walls. The projection sky above-painted with shifting hues of artificial dusk-cast long shadows over the battlefield.

Lucas stood still at the center of it all, the light catching against the blood-slick edge of his sword.

Beneath him, the broken forms of slain monsters lay in heaps-disfigured canines twisted by mana corruption, all bearing the signs of clean, efficient kills. Each strike had been purposeful. Every motion measured.

He exhaled slowly, letting the tension leave his shoulders.

Not bad...

His blue eyes drifted to the blade in his hand, to the gleaming streaks that marked the path of his latest improvement.

It's getting better.

Lucas had spent the last two months refining his sword style, paring it down to its most fluid form. Cutting away waste, stripping off flair, keeping only what mattered. He no longer chased power in brute displays-it was about precision, intention, control.

And the results spoke for themselves.

Just then-

BAM!

A violent tremor shook the stone beneath him as a hammer came crashing down several meters away. The sound echoed through the corridor like a thunderclap. The last monster-a hulking brute covered in thorny bone protrusions-let out a strangled gurgle as its head was pulverized into the ground.

Blood sprayed against the nearby wall like red ink.

Carl stood over the remains, his massive warhammer still humming faintly from the force of impact.

He exhaled with satisfaction, resting the hammer's head against the floor as he straightened up.

"It's finished now."

Carl's hammer slid back into its magnetic holster with a low hum, the glow of its enchantment dimming as the mana settled. His broad frame cast a long shadow against the fractured dungeon wall.

Stoic as always.

Not a smile. Not a word beyond what needed to be said. His expression remained neutral, his posture as steady and unmoved as it had always been.

Lucas glanced sideways at him, the faintest smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Classic Carl.

That silence, that immovable presence-it was just how Carl Braveheart had always been. The type who never wasted energy on words. The type who took hits like a wall and never cracked. But Lucas had known him before. And he knew him after.

He had seen the future where Carl had fought beside Ethan. He had stood with him in the vanguard of desperate battles, had watched him hold the line against demon contractors and aberrants alike.

They had fought side by side often enough that Lucas had grown familiar with the way Carl moved, the way he breathed when strained, the way his mana

flexed under pressure.

And what he saw now...

It's different.

Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly, letting his senses trace the after-echoes of mana in the room. The flow around Carl was cleaner now-sharper, denser. Not refined like a spellcaster's, but thick with reinforced layers. It was the mark of someone whose body had been conditioned to absorb punishment without

breaking down.

He's improving faster.

He didn't need a scanner glyph to confirm it. He could see it in the way Carl's movements were more grounded than before. His timing, too-just slightly