Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 608

Chapter 608 135.6 - The Banquet

Silas Vayne—no, Zharokath—moved through the grand ballroom with the calm, measured grace that was expected of a man of his stature. His sharp, calculating gaze swept over the lavish surroundings, noting the opulence of the Cox estate, the glittering chandeliers, the polished marble floors, and the carefully curated gathering of influential figures. He observed it all with mild interest, but beneath the mask of composure, he felt nothing but disdain.

'Humans and their need to display wealth and power, as if it means anything,' he mused, his thoughts laced with contempt. 'These creatures believe that money and influence elevate them, make them important. How foolish.'

In his guise as Silas Vayne, Zharokath had spent years infiltrating human society, meticulously building connections and manipulating those around him to further his own agenda. He had cultivated the perfect identity—one that was respected, feared, and above all, trusted. But to him, this facade was nothing more than a convenient tool, a means to an end.

'If only they knew what truly lurks beneath the surface of their fragile little world,' he thought, a faint smirk threatening to tug at the corners of his lips. 'They prance about like kings and queens, but they are nothing more than insects—easily crushed underfoot.'

The Cox family, in particular, amused him. Gerald Cox had risen to power with unnatural speed, thanks in no small part to the quiet manipulations Zharokath had orchestrated behind the scenes. But the man, like so many others, had no idea that he was merely a pawn. Even now, as Gerald played host to some of the most influential figures in the Federation, he was blissfully unaware of the demon who stood among his guests.

'Every time they think thy are in control,' Zharokath mused, his eyes flicking briefly toward the host. 'He believes he has secured powerful allies, that tonight will solidify his position among the elite. How amusing. He does not realize that his every step is guided by my hand.'

As Zharokath glided through the room, his attention shifted to the other key players in tonight's event. Argen Delvora, the ruthless businessman whose wealth and political influence extended far beyond the Federation, stood in conversation with Vivienne Althea, the cunning socialite who controlled the flow of information and rumors with a mere whisper. Both were important pieces in the game he was playing.

'They serve their purpose well enough,' he thought, eyeing them from a distance. Argen, with his ambition, and Vivienne, with her ability to manipulate.

'But like all humans, they are short-sighted. They believe they are making deals for wealth and power, but they cannot see the true nature of the bargain they are striking.'

The deal Zharokath was here to conclude tonight was of far greater importance than any human could comprehend. It wasn't simply about money or influence—it was about control. Control over the humans who would unknowingly serve his clan's greater purpose, control over the Federation's political landscape, and control over the demonic forces already creeping into their world.

And yet, Zharokath knew he had to be cautious. He was not so arrogant as to believe that he could flaunt his true nature openly.

The Void Clan, to which he belonged, needed to operate in the shadows since, from the moment their biggest strength had been injured, and needed to reincarnate and create a new body for himself.

'Tch...To be looked down and forced to come to this place….'

Because there were many other clans that were hunting his clan, he was forced to come to this human domain.

Zharokath had no intention of becoming one of their trophies.

And for that to happen, he needed to recover his strength as well as the strength of the great one.

As Zharokath's gaze flickered across the room, it briefly settled on the small, ornate necklace hanging from his neck. Its dull, unremarkable appearance masked the immense significance it carried—within the necklace, a fragment of the Void Clan's greatest power lay dormant, waiting to be revived. He reached up, fingers brushing against the cool metal, and his lips curled into a faint sneer of contempt.

'Great one, it will not take long. Don't worry,' he mumbled under his breath, the words barely audible, but laced with reverence. 'Soon, we will recover our strength. And once we do, no one will dare hunt us again.'

The thought filled him with a surge of dark satisfaction, but his arrogance was tempered by the weight of caution. The Void Clan had once ruled over realms far beyond this insignificant human world. But now, they were hunted, forced to hide in the shadows, their greatest strength injured and scattered. Zharokath had taken it upon himself to ensure their survival, to rebuild what had been lost. That was why he had come to this human domain—an exile of sorts, but a necessary one.

His eyes shifted again, drawn to a particular corner of the grand ballroom where most of tonight's attention seemed to gather. There she was—Maya Evergreen, the young lady of the powerful Evergreen family, standing amidst the crowd.

Zharokath's eyes narrowed as he studied her. Maya Evergreen… He had not expected her to attend this banquet. It was, after all, hosted by a lower-ranked noble family, a far cry from the kind of gatherings her status usually demanded. For a moment, her presence seemed out of place, almost suspicious.

But then, as he glanced over her file in his mind, the pieces began to fall into place.

'Of course,' he thought, his arrogance briefly giving way to a calculated understanding. 'The Evergreens are preparing her, easing her into environments like these to adapt. To observe.'