Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 752

"Was the training with the Headmaster helpful?"

The words caught her so off-guard that her grip on the fork wavered, her breath hitching as her thoughts scrambled for an explanation. How could he possibly know? She hadn’t told anyone—not Jasmine, not her classmates, no one. The Headmaster himself had suggested keeping the training discreet, yet here Astron was, speaking as if it were an open secret.

Her emerald eyes widened briefly, betraying her surprise before she could school her expression. She lowered her gaze, carefully setting her fork down to regain some semblance of control. Her heart raced as she tried to steady herself, but the stillness at the table felt oppressive, magnified by Astron’s calm, piercing gaze.

He wasn’t pressing her. He didn’t need to. His silence was enough, a quiet challenge that made her chest tighten. He knows. How does he know? Her fingers curled against the edge of the table, her grip tightening as she fought to suppress her reaction, but even that felt like an admission of guilt. She was trying to act composed, but she had a sinking feeling that Astron had already seen too much.

When she finally looked up, his gaze hadn’t wavered. Those calm, purple eyes were fixed on her, steady and unwavering, as though they were dissecting her every movement. For a moment, Sylvie felt completely exposed, as if the careful layers she had built to protect herself had been stripped away with a single question.

"I… I think so," she said at last, her voice soft, hesitant. The words felt flimsy even as she spoke them. "The Headmaster has been… encouraging."

The second the word "encouraging" left her lips, she wanted to cringe. It sounded weak, vague—nothing like the intense reality of what she had endured during her training. Those sessions had been grueling, pushing her far beyond her limits. They had been transformative in ways she was still grappling with. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to say any of that aloud.

Astron tilted his head slightly, his gaze unflinching. His calm expression betrayed nothing, yet there was something about his posture, the way his attention remained locked on her, that made Sylvie feel like he was unraveling her with his eyes.

"You really… How did you know?" she finally asked, her voice softer now, edged with both curiosity and unease. She hated how vulnerable she sounded, how much the question revealed about her inner turmoil. But she couldn’t help it—she needed to know.

Astron leaned back slightly in his chair, his demeanor as composed as ever. "It was just a guess," he said, his tone calm, deliberate. "And it appears I was correct, thanks to your reaction."

A flush of heat rushed to Sylvie’s cheeks, her embarrassment blooming as her mind raced. A guess? The realization made her stomach twist. She had practically handed him confirmation, and now she felt even more exposed. She shifted in her seat, her hands dropping to her lap as she clasped them tightly together.

Why does he always do this? she thought, biting the inside of her cheek. Why does he always make me feel like I’m under a microscope, even when I’m the one asking the questions?

Her thoughts spiraled as she stabbed absently at her plate, her appetite fading beneath the weight of her unease. She replayed the exchange in her mind, each moment feeling like a quiet defeat. And yet, despite the frustration simmering in her chest, she couldn’t deny the faint thread of admiration she felt.

Astron’s calm was infuriating, yes, but it was also undeniably impressive. The way he read her so easily, the way he seemed so in control of himself and his surroundings—it was unlike anyone else she had ever met. No matter how much he unsettled her, Sylvie couldn’t help but wonder how he did it. And, though she hated to admit it, part of her wanted to understand him better. Because in his unshakable calm, there was a strength she couldn’t help but envy.

Sylvie’s cheeks flushed a deeper red as the weight of Astron’s words settled over her. Her hands darted to her lap, fingers fidgeting nervously as she struggled to process what he had just said. "Oh…" she murmured, her voice barely audible. "I… I didn’t mean to—"

He cut her off with a faint shake of his head, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Sylvie," he said, his voice low but firm, carrying the weight of quiet authority. "You need to be more careful. These types of scenarios are going to happen again—likely with people far less trustworthy than me."

The words struck a chord within her, and she instinctively looked down, her embarrassment morphing into a quieter, deeper form of introspection. Her fingers curled tighter against the edge of the table, the soft hum of her [Authority] brushing against the calm wall of his presence. There was no malice in his tone, only a quiet truth that left her feeling exposed but strangely motivated.

He let the silence linger just long enough before speaking again. "Control over your powers is important," he said, his tone softening slightly, "but control over your emotions is equally important. If you allow yourself to react too openly, people will read you, and they’ll use that against you."

Sylvie’s shoulders stiffened at the gravity of his words. He wasn’t wrong—he never was when it came to matters like this—but hearing it aloud, spelled out so clearly, made her feel like her vulnerability was laid bare. Her chest tightened with a mixture of frustration and resolve. He’s right. I can’t keep letting myself be this easy to read.

Her fingers tightened around the table’s edge again, but this time there was a shift in her posture, a faint but undeniable change. Her spine straightened, and when she finally lifted her gaze to meet his, her emerald eyes held a spark of quiet determination. "You’re right," she said softly, her voice carrying a steadiness that hadn’t been there before. "I’ll… I’ll work on it."

Astron gave her a faint nod of acknowledgment, his expression still unreadable but tinged with the slightest hint of approval. "Good," he said simply. "Awakening your powers has already changed the way others perceive you. Your growth is rapid, and people will notice—friends and enemies alike. The more composed you are, the harder it will be for them to manipulate or predict you."

Sylvie pressed her lips into a thin line, the weight of his words sinking deeper into her thoughts. She could feel the truth of them, not just in the abstract sense, but in the way people had already begun treating her differently. The Headmaster’s training had pushed her into uncharted territory, forcing her to grow quickly and adapt. But it had also placed her under a sharper lens—one that others might use against her if she wasn’t careful.

"I understand," she said quietly, her voice tinged with resolve. "I’ll do better."