Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 406

Chapter 406 92.2 - Hidden Currents

Everyone has their regrets.

Things that they wanted to do but weren't able to?

Wrong choices. Wrong time. Wrong acts.

In the end, it is always something that is wrong.

For some people, it is engraved in their lives.

For Lucas, who had lived his whole life under the shadow of other people, there were countless of those.

The moment when he first lost to Julia.

The moment when he collapsed from overworking and understood it was his limit.

The moment when he lost in the duel against Damien.

The moment he died for the sake of the other people and received nothing.

Those were all regrets.

He had seen all of his future regrets and promised himself he would change them.

To change the future that was awaiting him. To become the star of the light.

Yet, aside from those future regrets, there was always one thing that had been haunting him.

A person.

"Lucas."

White hair tied at the back of his neck.

Cold blue eyes piercing one's own existence.

A pressure that even breathing is hard before it.

A presence for which the world needs to show respect.

Fergus Middleton.

His father.

"Yes, father."

He was one of the strongest beings of his generation. Someone who reached the pinnacle of the world.

Someone who stood at the top of many monsters, many demons. Blade Demon.

Someone who earned such a nickname.

Yet, for Lucas, the existence of Fergus meant something different.

He was the reason Lucas was like this. From the moment he was born, Lucas was always subjected to the ideal of a perfect heir.

Julia was not that different.

The two were raised by constantly being compared to each other, someone else.

If one asked Lucas what his biggest regret was, that would be the fact that he had never once heard praise from Fergus' mouth.

Not even once.

No ounce of acceptance.

For Fergus, only results mattered, and Lucas wasn't able to show any good results at all. At least, the results he had shown had always fallen short compared to the ones that Julia had.

As a swordsman, Julia was superior. Her talent was slightly higher than his, and that slight difference was all that mattered.

At the end of the day, he never was able to get any sort of compliment.

Even when he died, he felt like Fergus was disappointed in him.

As Lucas stood before his father, Fergus Middleton, the weight of years of unspoken expectations hung heavy in the air. Fergus's presence alone demanded respect, his stature and cold blue eyes piercing through any facade.

Lucas swallowed his nerves, bracing himself for whatever words his father would impart.

Even now, he couldn't stand in his presence completely devoid of anything.

"Lucas," Fergus's voice was deep and commanding, cutting through the arena's lingering cheers. "You did well today, choosing the heir of 'those.' You've shown that Middletons are not to be trifled with."

Lucas inclined his head slightly, a mix of relief and pride swelling within him at his father's acknowledgment.

'Finally.'

It was a rare moment, and he savored it, hoping it marked a shift in their strained relationship.

For the first time in his life, things were starting to get in his way.

"And your swordsmanship," Fergus continued, his tone shifting subtly. "Combining the illusion blade of the Arkwrights with Middleton techniques. What prompted that choice?"

Lucas straightened, seizing the opportunity to explain his strategy, eager to demonstrate his thoughtfulness and skill. "Father, I thought—"

Before he could finish, an overwhelming pressure emanated from Fergus. It was as if the very air around them thickened, making breathing difficult. Lucas instinctively took a step back, his heart racing as he met his father's intense gaze.

"What made you think that we, as Middletons, would need to resort to the puny tactics of the Arkwrights?" Fergus's voice cut through the room, each word laden with disappointment and disapproval.

Lucas felt a pang of dread.

'Huh?' He had hoped for approval, for validation, yet here he stood, once again facing his father's unyielding standards.

'But, you didn't show the same reaction when Julia was the one that did it.' He couldn't understand.

What was this supposed to mean? Didn't he do a good thing by creating a new technique for himself?

Why?

"I... I thought it could add unpredictability," Lucas stammered, struggling to maintain composure under his father's scrutiny. Even after all this time, it seemed he was still not strong enough to go against his words.

"Since a straightforward sword won't help us facing human enemies." "So you are saying that our family's sword is weak?"

Lucas clenched his jaw, suppressing the urge to argue. He knew better than to challenge his father's beliefs, forged through years of battle and leadership.

Yet, the sting of disappointment cut deep, reigniting familiar doubts and regrets.

"T-that….That wasn't what I intended to imply." Lucas managed, his voice barely above a whisper. He bowed his head in deference, masking the turmoil within him.

Something. When he looked into Fergus' eyes, he could see something that he had always seen.

Disappointment.

'Why?'

"It is fine," Fergus muttered, his voice strong. And then, he waved his hand, opening the door.