Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 976

The afternoon sun hung lower now, casting golden beams through the tall windows of the training hall as the final echoes of the last spar faded. The mana barriers surrounding the platforms dimmed one by one, signaling the end of the day’s practical lesson.

Students began to gather near the central open space—some stretching, others chattering excitedly about the matches they’d witnessed or fought in. Weapons were sheathed, towels slung over shoulders, and the ambient tension gradually eased into the casual buzz of worn-out satisfaction.

Most of the group regrouped as usual near one of the marble pillars at the edge of the dueling floor.

Ethan was already there, seated on the bench, arms resting on his knees. Irina stood nearby, speaking quietly with Carl. Lilia approached last, water bottle in hand, eyes sweeping over the group before zeroing in on Julia.

Julia stood with her arms crossed, weight shifted onto one leg, brows knitted together as she stared at nothing in particular. Her usual fire had dimmed into a faint scowl.

Lilia tilted her head. "What’s with the grumpy face?"

Julia didn’t answer.

Lilia leaned in slightly, smirking. "You won against him, didn’t you? Just like you wanted. Why so sour now?" Her tone turned playful. "Don’t tell me—you’re mad because you couldn’t prove your ladylike charm?"

That earned a visible twitch from Julia, who scoffed audibly and looked away. "Tch. Don’t be annoying."

"Oh, come on," Lilia teased, but didn’t press further when Julia’s eyes didn’t meet hers.

Irina glanced over, sensing the edge in Julia’s mood but choosing to stay silent. She understood that expression well enough. It wasn’t pride. It wasn’t anger. It was something else—deeper. She made a mental note to keep an eye on her later.

Before the conversation could stretch thinner, the side door to the instructor’s hallway opened, and Astron emerged.

He looked no different than usual—uniform neat, expression unreadable, steps calm. His silver hair caught the light, his eyes half-lidded with that same distant attentiveness he always wore.

But the moment he entered the room, several cadets turned toward him.

"That was amazing—seriously, I thought Julia had you at one point."

"Your reads were unreal. You didn’t even cast and still kept up."

"Are you really a dagger specialist? You looked like a trained swordsman out there."

Astron offered them a simple nod, nothing more. No thanks, no false humility—just acknowledgment.

This kind of attention had become a common occurrence.

Astron, for all his quietness, had become one of those names people whispered about in sparring halls and during training evaluations. No matter how intense the matchup, he remained calm, unreadable. The other cadets didn’t mind the way he brushed off praise—they knew by now that Astron simply wasn’t the type to talk more than he needed to.

He moved through the room with his usual, collected pace, his eyes not lingering on anyone for more than a second. With quiet purpose, he headed to the far wall of the hall, where the less crowded section of the seating was.

But before he could settle in properly, Irina appeared at his side, as if she’d timed her approach perfectly.

"Quite a nice work you had there," she said with a half-smile, tilting her head slightly as her eyes glanced toward him.

Astron barely reacted. "It was mostly Julia’s repression of strength."

Irina clicked her tongue. "Yeah, yeah... We both know that’s not true."

Astron didn’t respond.

Just the faintest pause.

Irina caught it instantly. Her smirk widened. "See?"

Without waiting for permission, she slid into the space beside him, brushing his arm slightly with her shoulder before nudging him to sit.

He complied—perhaps because he didn’t mind, or perhaps because resisting Irina’s insistence usually took more energy than it was worth.

Once seated, Irina turned toward him a little more, resting her elbow casually on the bench behind him.

"Did you watch my fight?"

"I did."

His answer came without delay.

Irina raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

She wasn’t fishing for praise. Well… maybe a little. But mostly, she was curious—because Astron didn’t just watch fights. He analyzed them.

Whatever came out of his mouth next, she knew it would be honest.

And she wanted to hear it.

Astron shrugged lightly, eyes trained forward as though still watching the afterimages of the match unfold on the wall.

"I don’t have much to comment."

Irina blinked. "Huh. That’s it?"