Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 1031

Jasmine's blade struck true again—SLASH—carving through a groove in the monster's side that Sylvie had revealed moments earlier with a burst of glyph-light. But the follow-through… didn't land right.

The monster's body twisted—not just in defense, but in response. Its muscle fibers, if they could be called that, bent like molten vines and reformed mid-impact, dampening the strike. What should've staggered it didn't even slow it down.

Sylvie noticed it first.

"That… should've hit deeper," she muttered, blinking hard.

Jasmine didn't answer at first. She leapt back from another swipe, boots skidding across dust-slick stone, her breathing quick and ragged. "I know. I'm not getting through."

She rushed again, pivoted around the creature's flared limb and dove beneath its guard, blade flashing with wind-imbued momentum.

SLASH—KRSSHH!

Another strike, across a thinner joint near the mid-ribs.

It hit—but it slid. Like the monster had anticipated her tempo.

"Something's off," Jasmine hissed. "I can't cut through. Not like this."

Sylvie was already weaving another round of buffs, lips pressed tight. Her hands moved on instinct—Agility Thread, Kinetic Buffer, another Reinforce Bloom on Jasmine's weapon. But even as she cast, she felt it.

She was patching holes in the system, not reinforcing a structure.

They weren't breaking through—they were delaying collapse.

And then, it clicked.

Jasmine wasn't Irina.

She was quick. Deadly. Sharp.

But she wasn't built to be the primary pressure point.

Her strength came in rhythm—with others.

With Layla holding a wall in front of her. With Irina burning a lane that Jasmine could exploit. With Astron in the background, marking the enemy's breathing cycle and whispering "Right leg, behind the plate. Two-second delay before the tail recovers."

There was none of that now.

Sylvie ducked another claw that smashed into the canyon wall beside her—BOOOOM!—and stared into the monster's burning gold eyes as it reared back, its body folding in preparation for a lunge.

She knew it wasn't just Jasmine struggling.

She was struggling, too.

Because Astron wasn't just the center of the formation.

He was the mind of it.

He didn't bark commands or shout orders, but when Astron was around, their movements flowed. He'd say "fall back one step," and a surprise pincer would be neutralized. He'd tell Irina "two seconds to detonation," and the ground would rupture on cue. He saw things—named them.

And he wasn't here.

Sylvie's hands twitched. Her buffs weren't landing with the same precision. Not because she was failing—but because the structure was gone.

There was no Layla anchoring the rotation.

No Irina setting the tempo.

And no Astron reading the battlefield like a book.

It was just them.

Sylvie's eyes locked onto Jasmine—still weaving, still moving, her body slick with sweat and her blade not quite cutting deep enough.

She realized then: Jasmine wasn't losing—but she was wearing down.

"Jasmine!" Sylvie called, voice sharp as steel. "You can't keep pace like this—!"

"I know!" Jasmine shouted, parrying a spined limb before rolling to the left. "But what choice do we have?!"

The creature lunged.

Jasmine barely blocked in time. Sylvie's magic caught the impact—but only just. The feedback nearly knocked her off her feet.

They hit the dirt again, tumbling apart.

The monster's limbs curled, dragging mana from the fractured canyon floor. Shadows twisted. The air compressed.

The intent was clear:

Next strike ends this.

Sylvie gasped, breath catching.

Her heart pounding.

Not from fear—but from clarity.

They were two pieces of a formation that no longer existed.

This wasn't just a strong enemy.

This was a reminder:

They were still a team.

And a team needed its core.

Sylvie's lungs burned.

Her hands shook.

Not from fear—but from the realization that this couldn't continue.

Jasmine couldn't hold the line alone.

Sylvie couldn't support a crumbling rhythm forever.

This wasn't a duel. It wasn't even survival.

It was failure, dragging itself closer with every breath.

And if something didn't change—now—this dungeon would become their tomb.

Her eyes locked onto Jasmine—still moving, still fighting, but every strike was slower, every dodge a fraction too close.

Sylvie's breath trembled as she lowered her stance, hands spreading slightly, fingers glowing with mana. The golden light crackled along her gloves—but this time, she didn't weave a glyph.

Instead, she whispered, low and steady:

"…Alright, Astron. I can't think like you. I can't move like you. But…"

She inhaled.

Then exhaled.

"I'll speak like you."

Her voice dropped, calm, clipped.

Like command distilled to essence.

"Jasmine. Back step. Left side soft—tail recoil is slower than the arms."

Jasmine hesitated—just for a second.

But she moved.

And the monster's tail struck just behind her as she slipped past it, blade slashing along the inner thigh seam the moment it overextended.

CRRRSSH!

A good hit. Not deep. But real.

Sylvie's eyes narrowed.

"Keep your blade close. Don't overextend. It wants you airborne."

Jasmine blinked. Her gaze flicked back—then sharpened.

Sylvie wasn't panicked anymore.

She was guiding.

And then—Sylvie did it.

She reached into herself. Into the mana core she rarely dared to tap fully.

And there—nested deep within her chest—it stirred.

[First Lord's Authority]

Golden mana surged through her veins, coiling up her spine and into her eyes. Her breath caught—and then—

FLASH.

The world slowed.

No—shifted.