Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 980

A stillness hung in the air as the weight of Instructor Verren’s final words settled over the room.

You are candidates.

Act like it.

The cadets stood straighter, shoulders a little more squared. For a long moment, no one said a word—until a hand quietly rose from the middle of the formation.

It was Mira.

Her voice, while respectful, carried a note of genuine curiosity. "Instructor… what about the duel between Victor and Ethan?"

A hush fell across the room again, sharper this time. Everyone turned toward Verren, eyes narrowing with unspoken tension.

Even Julia, who had been leaning back lazily with arms crossed, straightened slightly.

Victor’s name still carried an unnatural weight—and Ethan’s fight had been the quiet thunder hanging behind every match.

Verren didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he stared down at his tablet for a long beat, as if gathering his thoughts—or perhaps deciding what to say. Then, finally, he let out a deep, restrained sigh.

"…Ethan Hartley fought as close to his limit as anyone could ask," Verren said, his voice lower now, more grounded. "He held his stance, made no critical errors, responded to overwhelming pressure with composure. That in itself is commendable."

Ethan, who had remained silent, kept his gaze steady, though the memory of the fight still pulsed faintly in his jaw and ribs.

"But," Verren continued, lifting his gaze to meet the room again, "that match serves as a lesson of a different kind."

The students listened with breath held. Even Astron looked up.

"There are times when you will do everything right," Verren said, "and still lose."

The words struck hard. Clear. Unapologetic.

"You may face a monster," he said slowly, "that you can’t outrun. Can’t outfight. One that stands too far above you—individually or even as a team. No weakness to exploit. No obvious path to victory."

He paused. The room remained silent.

"In that case," Verren said, his voice like steel against stone, "you’ll need to understand something many hunters refuse to accept."

He stepped forward, his gaze unrelenting.

"You will need to make a choice."

Another pause.

"Not how to win—but what you’re willing to lose in order to survive."

His next words cut even deeper.

"Sometimes, you must make sacrifices."

The cadets shifted uncomfortably. No one dared speak.

"Maybe it’s letting go of pride. Maybe it’s leaving behind a teammate. Maybe it’s yourself."

Victor, still leaning against the far column, remained motionless, his gaze flicking once—only once—toward Ethan.

Verren’s eyes scanned the room once more.

"I don’t say this to scare you. I say this because one day, it will be real. You’ll be standing at the edge of something greater than you. And you’ll need to ask yourself, not just ’Can I win?’…"

He turned away, walking slowly back to the center of the room.

"…but ’What am I willing to lose in order to survive?’"

Silence reigned.

It was no longer just a combat class.

It was a war room in disguise.

Verren nodded once more.

"Class dismissed."

The moment Verren uttered the words—"Class dismissed"—a quiet, heavy exhale swept through the room. Not relief. Not fatigue.

Weight.

The cadets began to move, slowly, hesitantly, like gears reluctantly turning in a long-dormant machine. Conversations that might’ve sparked after an intense match were nowhere to be heard. There were no light jokes, no friendly shoulder-pats, no post-fight banter.

Just silence.

Thick. Lingering.

Even the sound of boots against the polished floor felt subdued, as though the hall itself had chosen to mourn something unspoken.