Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 950

A new wave emerged—more this time. Twelve total, coming in from the forward corridor and two side crevices that hadn’t been there seconds ago.

"Spread is increasing," Astron observed. "They’re adapting. Stay tight."

Layla stepped forward again, knees bracing, shield held high. "Ready!"

Jasmine grunted, "More than ready," and surged slightly forward—but just to the edge of her zone.

Irina lifted both hands, and heat flooded the tunnel. Her fire didn’t blast forward yet—but hovered in orbit, waiting. "This next burst is mine," she said. "You’ll feel the air drop right after."

"Noted," Astron replied, his stance lowering.

Sylvie’s mana shimmered again, this time latching onto Irina’s flames—not with raw power, but control. The spiraling fire tightened, became denser, as if molded through glass.

"Second pressure point locked," Sylvie announced.

Then the wave hit.

The hounds came faster, now overlapping each other, some leaping over fallen bodies, others diving low. Irina moved first, sending the compressed heat wave forward. The air bent visibly. Several creatures incinerated instantly—but two phased right through the flames.

"Spectral-grade. Non-impactable by elemental burn," Astron said. "Rear incoming."

"I see it," Sylvie replied, a sharp flick of her hand sending three focused bursts backward. They didn’t explode—but pierced. The rear corridor flickered as a shrieking shape twisted mid-air and collapsed, its form warping mid-dissolution.

Layla was beginning to slow—her stance growing heavier as repeated clashes shook her core.

"Frontline weakening," she gasped. "I need someone to intercept upper jumps!"

"On it," Jasmine barked.

She surged forward within formation bounds, slashing upward as a hound launched from a wall toward Layla’s head. The slash didn’t just cut—it stunned. Layla caught the rest of the blow with her shoulder, then drove the beast back with her shield.

"Adjusting position!" Astron called, stepping past Irina just slightly—half-body lead. "Jasmine, fall to third line after this wave. Irina, you hold second."

"Excuse me?" Irina snapped, but her flames still danced to his command.

"Mid-line pressure’s shifting. They’re targeting your zone more. You’ll bait better with a forward lean."

Irina’s eyes narrowed—but her hands rose nonetheless.

The second wave collapsed moments later under their pressure, the last hound impaled mid-leap by a golden bolt from Sylvie.

Silence followed.

Their breathing steadied. Layla’s shield dropped slightly, her arms trembling from impact absorption.

Astron glanced around. "Good spacing. Adjustments were clean."

Sylvie spoke softly. "Third wave will be specialized. Maybe a Phase Beast."

"Or a redirector," Jasmine added, panting.

Irina cracked her neck. "Let it come. I’ve got something saved."

Astron gave a small nod, his purple eyes gleaming faintly beneath the pulsing dungeon light.

"Hold position. Reinforce zones. Next round will test our gaps."

And behind them, the dungeon ceiling began to twist, glow, and split.

The next wave was coming.

****

The third wave fell harder, faster, but it barely made a difference.

Monsters burst through from shifting side corridors and jagged ceiling vents—spectral beasts fused with crystalline plating, their limbs flickering with red-glowing sigils. But the team didn’t falter.

Each role locked in.

Layla’s shield held the center like a living wall, intercepting claw swipes and slamming back force with reinforced mana. Jasmine rotated through flanks with precise footwork, her blade carving clean lines through exposed gaps. Irina’s fire painted the second line in waves of pressure, incinerating the bulk of forward threats before they could break formation.

Astron—quiet and ever-moving—patched cracks with surgical cuts and repositioned fluidly, acting as a pressure valve whenever a line wavered.

But more than anything, the formation held because of Sylvie.

Her position at the rear should’ve been passive—meant for barrier support and healing calls. But she was doing more.

Far more.

Glyphs laced the air behind the group, delicate and fluid, adjusting in real-time to enemy movement. Buffs rippled across their armor—speed, tension reduction, mana syncing. But it wasn’t just enchantments.

Sylvie’s hand flicked, and a whip of yellow light slashed a Phase Beast that tried to curve around Jasmine’s blind spot. Her footwork was crisp, her aim unnervingly precise.

She was fighting.

Like a mage.