Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 720

Chapter 720 164.2 - The Attack

Irina exhaled slowly, her body steadying as she forced the chaos out of her mind. Smoke swirled around her, debris clattering to the floor, but her focus remained unshaken. She was an Emberheart, heir to one of the strongest families in the world. She had faced danger before-and survived.

This was no different.

Her hazel eyes sharpened as she pushed herself up, her stance steady. Astron was already in front of her, his daggers drawn in a reverse grip, their edges gleaming faintly even in the dim, smoke-filled gallery. His disguise had vanished, revealing his striking purple eyes, glowing faintly with mana. It was a startling contrast to his usual calm demeanor, his aura now charged with quiet intensity.

Irina tried to summon her own mana, reaching for the familiar flames that always answered her call. Nothing. Her connection to her core felt distant, suppressed. "They've laid out mana suppression fields," she murmured, her voice low and measured.

Astron glanced over his shoulder, nodding in acknowledgment. "Clever. Designed to weaken Awakened. They're trying to nullify your flames."

Irina's jaw tightened, her hazel eyes narrowing. 'Figures,' she thought bitterly. "They came prepared! She had faced suppression fields before, but this one was more sophisticated, more oppressive than most. It wasn't just limiting her mana-it felt like it was actively smothering her connection to it.

Astron's sharp gaze swept the room. "They're closing in. Twenty-five operatives, five elites. Fire-resistant armor. We're in their web."

Irina smirked faintly despite the situation. "You counted them already?"

He didn't reply, his focus already shifting to the approaching figures. The faint shimmer of cloaking devices in the haze made it clear that the operatives were professionals, moving in coordinated formations. Their presence exuded the calculated precision of hunters used to high-stakes missions.

Irina straightened, her fiery confidence returning despite the suppression fields. She might not have her flames, but she wasn't defenseless. Her eyes flicked to a shattered display case, where the fragments of a ceremonial dagger lay among the broken glass. With a quick, fluid motion, she grabbed the blade, testing its weight. Not ideal, but it would do.

Astron's voice broke through her thoughts, low and calm. "Can you fight without mana?"

Irina inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling as she forced herself to steady her

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mind. Her pride-normally a cornerstone of her demeanor-was not what mattered now. If she allowed it to blind her, it would only hold her back. This was not the time for bravado or stubbornness; this was survival.

Her grip on the ceremonial dagger tightened as she met Astron's steady gaze. "No," she said simply, her voice firm and resolute. "I can't fight like this."

Astron nodded once, his purple eyes gleaming in the dim, smoke-filled gallery. His gaze held none of the condescension she might have feared before, only sharp focus and acknowledgment. "Good," he said, his voice low but decisive. "That makes this clear. My main objective is getting you out of here."

Irina stiffened slightly but forced herself to stay calm. "What about you?"

His expression didn't change. "I'll handle what I can, but don't try to play hero. Your job is to survive. No matter what happens, you stick to that."

Irina felt her jaw tighten, her pride bristling for a fleeting moment before she crushed it down. His words weren't meant to belittle her-they were logical, brutally so. The field suppressing her flames was crippling, and in her current state, she wasn't at full strength. Astron's abilities were far less reliant on mana, making him the better combatant in these conditions.

Her hazel eyes flickered with reluctant acceptance. "Fine. But if you think I'm just going to cower behind you-"

"I don't," he interrupted, his tone sharp but calm. "But your survival comes first. They're targeting you. Use that brain of yours and stay one step ahead. Let me do the

rest."

Irina hesitated, then nodded. "Alright," she said, her voice quieter but no less resolute. "I'll trust you."

"Good," Astron replied, already turning his attention back to the approaching operatives. His daggers glinted faintly in the low light, their edges sharp and poised for action. "Stay close."

And then in an instant, he took out something from his spatial bracelet.

FOOOSH!

It was a device.

'A smokescreen?"

Just as the attackers were using the smoke as a measure of attack, Astron did the same. Smoke started rising all around covering everyone's vision.

TAP! TAP!

The air around them thickened, the oppressive silence broken only by the faint hum of suppression fields and the distant crackle of debris settling. Irina's grip tightened on the ceremonial dagger as shadows emerged from the smoke-silent, calculating figures moving with predatory intent.

Four operatives closed in, their weapons glinting faintly in the dim light. Irina felt her heartbeat quicken. They weren't rushing in recklessly; their movements were methodical, and coordinated, like a pack of wolves circling their prey.

"Target found," one of them muttered, his voice carrying a cold certainty as his eyes locked onto Irina. She shifted her stance, preparing herself, but even as she moved, she realized something strange.

Where is Astron?

In that split second, she lost track of him. Her sharp senses, trained through years of combat and intense training, couldn't pinpoint his presence. It was as though he had vanished completely, swallowed by the smoke and shadows.

The operatives moved closer, confident in their advantage. One raised his weapon, a sleek, enchanted blade designed to nullify defensive magic. Another pulled out a suppression baton, the faint hum of its enchantment crackling in the air.

Irina tensed, her mind racing. 'No flames, no mana. I'm cornered, but I can still-'

"Kurghk-!"

The sound shattered the oppressive quiet, a wet, choking noise that came from somewhere behind the operatives. One of them staggered forward, clutching his throat as blood sprayed from a precise slash across his neck. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud, his weapon clattering beside him,

"What the-?" one of the remaining operatives began, spinning around, but he barely had time to react before a dagger flashed through the haze, embedding itself into his chest. The man stumbled, gasping as the weapon's sharp edge pierced armor and flesh alike, before collapsing to his knees.