Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 797

"What happened to Senior Maya?"

Astron’s sharp purple eyes locked onto Sylvie’s the moment she spoke, his expression calm but his gaze piercing in a way that made her breath hitch. The silence that followed her question was heavy, weighted with the unspoken tension between them.

"What happened to her?" Astron repeated, his voice measured. He tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze unyielding. "What do you mean by that?"

Sylvie straightened in her seat, gripping her teacup tightly to steady herself. She knew Astron well enough to recognize that he was being deliberately evasive. He was hiding something—he always did when he felt the need to shield others from the truth. But not this time. This time, she wasn’t going to let him deflect.

She took a deep breath, her fingers tracing the edge of her cup as she tried to gather her thoughts. "Astron," she said, her voice firm but not accusatory. "There’s something inside her. Something that isn’t normal. I can feel it."

Astron’s gaze didn’t waver, but she caught the faintest flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or recognition. "What do you mean, feel it?" he asked evenly.

Sylvie hesitated, the words catching in her throat. She had never openly discussed her [Authority] with him, but she had a feeling he already knew more than she had let on. And now, there was no point in hiding it.

Sylvie swallowed hard, her grip on the teacup tightening as she forced herself to meet his gaze. "I can feel it," she said simply, her voice steady but edged with an undercurrent of tension.

Astron’s sharp purple eyes bored into hers, unyielding, as if searching for something beneath her words. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating, until he finally nodded, the faintest tilt of his head.

"With your changes…" he murmured, his tone calm but tinged with an almost imperceptible weight. "It is understandable that you can feel something like that."

Sylvie’s chest tightened. She had expected him to question her further, to probe for more details, but his words carried a quiet certainty that caught her off guard. He knew—maybe not the full extent, but enough to understand what had happened to her.

Enough to believe her.

Astron leaned back slightly, his gaze still locked onto hers, unrelenting in its intensity. But Sylvie had no intention of backing down or changing the subject. Not now.

She set the cup down gently on the table, her fingers brushing the rim as she took a deep breath. "There’s something inside her," she began, her voice lower now, as if the weight of her words demanded restraint. "Even though it’s not something I’ve encountered before, I can understand it to some extent."

Astron remained silent, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he listened. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t push her to elaborate, but she could sense the tension in the air between them.

Sylvie’s hands clenched into fists on the table as she leaned forward slightly. Her voice grew firmer, more resolute, as she described what she felt. "It’s… bloody. Thirsty. Hungry. And inhuman."

She paused, her breath catching as she forced herself to say the words that had been clawing at her mind since she first sensed it. "Demonic energy."

The words hung in the air like a stormcloud, heavy and foreboding. For a moment, Astron’s expression didn’t change, but the subtle shift in his posture—a faint straightening of his back, the way his hands relaxed slightly on the table—spoke volumes.

"Demonic energy," he repeated, his voice quiet but sharp, like the edge of a blade. His gaze flickered briefly, as though piecing something together in his mind. "You’re certain?"

Sylvie’s voice didn’t waver, even as her chest tightened. "Yes. And you know about it as well, don’t you?" she asked, her tone sharper now, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of vulnerability.

There’s no way he doesn’t. Not with his perception. He sees through everything, even the things others don’t want to reveal.

Astron’s gaze remained steady, his sharp purple eyes unwavering as he leaned back in his chair. His expression, as always, was calm—too calm. Then, after a long moment, he nodded.

"I knew," he admitted, his voice low, carrying the weight of a truth he had no intention of hiding.

Sylvie felt her breath hitch, her hands tightening into fists on the table. The confirmation wasn’t unexpected, yet it still sent a shiver down her spine. Of course, he knew. He always knows. But if he knew… why didn’t he do anything?

"Then… why?" she began, her voice trembling slightly despite her efforts to steady it. "Why didn’t you—"

Astron’s hand lifted, a subtle but firm gesture that stopped her mid-sentence. His calm gaze softened slightly, but there was no room for argument in his tone as he spoke. "Because," he said, "I don’t make it a habit to speak about other people’s lives unless it’s absolutely necessary."