Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 794

The opulent room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting a warm amber hue over the lavish furnishings. Ornate carvings adorned the dark wood furniture, and luxurious velvet curtains framed the tall windows. The air was scented with a faint trace of expensive cologne, mingled with the lingering scent of intimacy.

In the center of the room, a massive bed with silk sheets lay in disarray. Zafira reclined against the pillows, her raven-black hair spilling over her bare shoulders like a dark cascade. Beside her, a young man slept soundly, his face serene but his body showing signs of exhaustion. His chest rose and fell steadily, the sheets barely covering his well-defined physique.

Zafira’s lips curved into a satisfied smile as she glanced at him. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the intricate patterns on the silk sheets. The room’s opulence, the man’s identity, none of it truly mattered to her. What mattered was what she had achieved.

Her crimson eyes gleamed with triumph as she reflected on the events that led her here. She had infiltrated the academy during the final exams, sensing the faint yet unmistakable energy of Belthazor. But despite her efforts, she hadn’t been able to confirm the true owner of that power. It was fleeting, elusive, slipping through her grasp like smoke.

’A one-time opportunity wasted,’ she thought, her smile fading for a brief moment. ’That’s why I needed a more secure foothold. Something more... permanent.’

She turned her gaze to the young man sleeping beside her. His identity wasn’t important, just as his actions during their encounter weren’t. What mattered was his position—a hunter with credentials, and more importantly, someone with an inroad to the academy.

Her smile returned, this time laced with wicked satisfaction. ’Taking the body of another hunter… it’s almost too easy. Their ambition, their pride… they make for such willing tools.’

Leaning closer to the man, she weaved her hand around him, her fingers tracing the lines of his tired body. "You have proven to be quite useful…" she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper. "And you were quite fine in bed too…"

Her smile widened, cold and merciless. "Though sadly, this is the end."

With a flick of her wrist, a faint pulse of dark energy emanated from her fingers, flowing into the man’s forehead. His body twitched slightly before falling still, his peaceful expression undisturbed. His memories of the night—of Zafira’s presence, of everything they’d shared—were wiped clean in an instant.

Zafira sat up, her movements fluid and deliberate. She dressed swiftly, her mind already focused on the next step of her plan. As she adjusted her attire, she cast one last glance at the man who had unwittingly served his purpose.

"Thank you," she said softly, her tone almost mockingly tender. "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten… for as long as I need it."

With that, she slipped out of the room, her presence fading into the shadows. The rich hunter would wake up hours later, disoriented but none the wiser, and Zafira would be long gone. But now, she had what she needed—a solid position within the academy and a path closer to her true objective.

As she walked into the cool night air, her smile returned. The hunt was far from over, but the pieces were falling into place.

**********

A vast chamber stretched out in shadowed grandeur, a Gothic masterpiece bathed in the pale kiss of moonlight. The ceilings arched impossibly high, their darkened spires vanishing into an inky void, as if trying to pierce the heavens themselves. Silver beams filtered through stained glass windows, depicting twisted yet awe-inspiring tales of ancient saints and sinners, their intricate colors muted by the night.

Stone columns lined the cathedral, each a towering sentinel carved with grotesques—some angelic, others monstrous, their gazes eternal and unyielding. Between them hung black iron candelabras, their wax-dripped candles snuffed out long ago, leaving the hall to echo with an eerie, sacred silence.

Artifacts were scattered throughout like forgotten relics of a bygone age. A gilded chalice rested atop a marble pedestal, its edges encrusted with jewels that caught the moonlight like tiny stars. Along the walls, towering suits of armor stood at attention, their hollow visages staring forward as though keeping a vigil. A massive organ loomed at the far end of the hall, its pipes gleaming faintly, promising a thunderous hymn that might shatter the stillness if played.

And there, amidst the majesty and the shadows, a man stood.