Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 927

Eleanor walked briskly through the academy halls, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floors as she made her way toward the Headmaster’s office. The corridors were quieter than usual—most students were still in their designated areas, training or attending lectures—but the silence only served to amplify the thoughts swirling in her mind.

The call from the Headmaster had been expected, yet the timing of it was… suspicious.

She could already guess the subject.

The growing divide between the freshmen and sophomores had been simmering for some time now, but these recent spikes in aggression? They weren’t natural.

This wasn’t just a case of upperclassmen asserting dominance.

Someone was pulling the strings.

She knew it. The academy knew it. But no one could prove it—not yet.

Too Many Incidents. Too Many Patterns.

In the past three weeks, tensions had escalated rapidly.

Several fights had broken out, all conveniently in places where faculty intervention was delayed.

Three cadets had already been expelled—all of them sophomores.

Yet, even before today’s case with Ethan, multiple disciplinary actions had been taken against both sides—but disproportionately against the first-years.

The academy wasn’t turning a blind eye to it. They were taking action—but was it enough?

Eleanor exhaled slowly, adjusting the cuff of her uniform as she turned a corner.

The freshmen are being pushed into a corner.

And what happens when people are pushed too far?

They start fighting back.

That’s what someone wanted. Not discipline. Not control. They wanted a full-blown confrontation.

Someone was deliberately provoking this conflict.

And if it wasn’t stopped soon, it wouldn’t be just fights in the hallways.

It would be something worse.

Ethan Hartley: A Naïve Fool, or a Future Problem?

Despite the bigger picture, her thoughts kept drifting back to one person.

Ethan.

Naïve. Frustratingly naïve.

Strong, yes. But naïve.

He was getting stronger too quickly, and he was doing it without realizing what that meant. He was the kind of person who thought that being right was enough to win. That strength alone could change the outcome.

That kind of thinking?

It was dangerous.

Eleanor had seen too many cadets like him before. The ones who rose too fast, too young, too unprepared for the political and strategic games that came with power. Some of them survived. Some of them even thrived.

But most?

They burned out.

Or worse.

She sighed through her nose, rolling her shoulders slightly to ease the tension creeping into them.

Ethan was strong. There was no denying it. His physical potential alone put him on track to be an elite-level Hunter, and his instincts—while undisciplined—showed raw promise.

But if he didn’t learn how to navigate the battlefield outside of combat?

He’d end up like so many others before him.

And Eleanor?

She didn’t have the patience for wasted potential.

*****

Eleanor pushed open the heavy doors of the meeting room, stepping inside with purpose. The large chamber, typically used for strategic discussions among faculty, was already filled with the murmurs of gathered professors and instructors. The long, rectangular table at the center was lined with neatly stacked files—student profiles, incident reports, and records of disciplinary actions taken over the past month.

The Headmaster sat at the head of the table, his sharp eyes scanning the room as he waited for silence. The tension was palpable. This meeting had been called with urgency, and everyone knew why.

Eleanor quickly took her seat, eyes flicking across the room. Some professors looked concerned. Others looked frustrated. A few looked outright defiant.

The door shut with a soft thud behind her, signaling the beginning of the meeting.

Jonathan leaned forward, folding his hands over the table. His voice, when he spoke, was low but carried the unmistakable weight of authority.