Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 790

Seraphina stared at the door long after Astron had left, her silver eyes locked on the space he had occupied mere moments ago. The frost on the table remained, a stark reminder of her frustration. Her fingers tapped against its icy surface in a rhythm she didn’t even notice, her thoughts churning as she tried to piece together what had just transpired.

’Did he… just reject me?’

The thought was sharp, cutting, as if it didn’t belong in the same realm as her reality. Seraphina Frostborne, heir to one of the most powerful mage families, had just been defied outright.

Her silver eyes narrowed, her tapping fingers stilling as her mind replayed the encounter in vivid detail. His calm demeanor, his unflinching gaze, the way he had dismissed her frost as if it were no more than a passing chill—all of it clashed with her understanding of people.

’Doesn’t he care about Irina? Doesn’t he realize the consequences of his refusal?’

She clenched her hand into a fist, the frost intensifying momentarily before she forced herself to relax. But the questions wouldn’t stop, spiraling through her mind like an endless storm.

’He should have cared. He should have folded. I gave him every reason to comply.’

Seraphina leaned back in her chair, her smirk long gone, replaced by a thoughtful, almost troubled frown.

’Did I miscalculate?’

The possibility was as foreign as it was unwelcome. She prided herself on her ability to read people, to predict their actions, and to manipulate their weaknesses. But Astron…

’He’s either a fool or something far more dangerous.’

Her fingers resumed their rhythm, slower this time, the tapping a reflection of her inward struggle. She had been so certain that he cared for Irina, that his actions would be driven by a desire to protect her. And yet, he had walked away, calm and resolute, as if her threats were little more than noise.

’Could he be selfish?’

The thought lingered, unwelcome but persistent. Perhaps she had misjudged him entirely. If he didn’t care about Irina—or anyone else, for that matter—then her leverage was meaningless.

’But no… that doesn’t make sense,’ she countered herself, her silver eyes narrowing further. ’If he were truly selfish, he wouldn’t have built such a bond with her. Irina isn’t the type to invest in someone who doesn’t reciprocate.’

The more she thought, the more tangled the web became. Her evaluation of Astron was fracturing, the conclusions she had drawn suddenly feeling shaky, incomplete.

’Have I underestimated him? Overestimated him? Or am I simply missing something?’

She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the frosted table, her fingers steepled as she stared down at the photographs still spread before her. Irina’s smile, her relaxed posture near Astron—they told a story, one that didn’t align with the man who had just walked out of the room.

’Is there really something that I don’t know?’

The thought stung, and for a moment, her fingers stilled against the frosted table. Her sharp mind, honed through years of calculated maneuvers and intricate social games, couldn’t grasp the gaps in this encounter. And that sting—the bitter taste of an unanswered question—only fueled the fire burning within her.

Slowly, her eyes drifted from the photographs to the frost spreading faintly across the edges of the table. She clenched her fist, her nails digging into her palm as anger surged within her.

’Besting me twice… First Irina, now him.’

The memory of Irina’s rise still grated against her pride, a wound that had yet to heal. And now Astron, with his calm defiance, had reopened it, cutting even deeper.

’It’s infuriating,’ she thought, her teeth clenching as her emotions surged. ’He dares to reject me, to walk away as if I’m nothing?’

The frost around her pulsed faintly, spreading further across the surface of the table. She stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor with a sharp, jarring sound. Her hand brushed against the table’s edge, the frost crackling faintly beneath her touch.

’Fine,’ she thought, her anger coalescing into a cold, sharp resolve. ’If he wants to reject me, then it’s time for him to face the consequences.’

She turned sharply on her heel, her silver hair trailing behind her like a cascade of frost, and began walking toward the exit. Before she left, she paused near the counter, reaching into her coat pocket. She pulled out a few neatly folded bills, her movements brisk and precise.

The cafe owner, a middle-aged man with a calm demeanor, took the money silently, a faint smile crossing his lips. He glanced at the faint frost still lingering in the air and offered her a polite nod, as if to acknowledge the unspoken arrangement.

Seraphina said nothing, her eyes glinting coldly as she turned and stepped out into the bustling streets. The warm sunlight contrasted sharply with the frost still clinging to her aura, a testament to the storm brewing within her.