Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 1029

Marked.

But he stopped there.

Even this was risky.

He could mark no more than one at a time—two, if the academy's detection wards weren't finely tuned that day.

But today?

They were.

He could feel it in the ambient air pressure. The subtle resistance of arcane scrutiny drifting just beneath the casual weight of sunlight. The Arcadia wards had grown sharper.

More alert.

Probably due to the scouts.

Probably because of people like him.

If he overcast—if his mana dipped just a bit too high—someone would notice.

And he could not afford notice.

He rolled his shoulder slightly, adjusted his collar, and kept walking.

Two marked.

That would have to suffice for now.

Leonard flexed his fingers once—lightly, casually, as though stretching—and felt the resistance in the air press just a little tighter against his skin. Yes. That was the limit.

Any more, and the Arcadian ward lattice would notice. Not an alarm—not a blaring siren—but a nudge. A whisper to the on-site surveillance teams that someone was casting without declaration.

He wasn't ready for that attention.

Not yet.

So he moved.

His coat trailed behind him as he descended the stairwell into the student-level walkways—elegant stone corridors curved with gentle arches and gilded mana-lanterns, each tuned to adjust to cadet energy levels. The academy's infrastructure hummed with quiet life.

Leonard tracked the first signature, his steps light, mind already constructing the cadence of the encounter—

—when it hit him.

A pressure.

Not direct.

Not sharp.

But sudden. Wide.

His foot paused mid-step.

And his body stiffened.

A wave of raw mana had rippled through the ether—not in his direction, not near him—but large enough to touch everything in the quadrant. Like a tremor rolling beneath the stone, barely felt, but too unnatural to mistake.

Leonard's breath stilled.

'What…?'

It wasn't pain.

It wasn't even destabilization.

It was disruption.

As if two forces had collided—not violently, but deeply. Not a clash of spells, but of principles.

Two sources of mana—vast, tempered, and opposing—had brushed against one another.

And it had sent a cold shiver up his spine.

Leonard's gaze darted toward the sky for a split second.

Then down the length of the corridor.

There was no explosion. No screams. No announcements.

Just that pressure, and now—nothing.

'Was that… the Headmaster?'

It was possible. Jonathan Hartley was no ordinary mage. If someone had triggered a defense ward near his proximity…

But no.

That wasn't a solar pattern.

The mana wasn't light-based.

It wasn't lunar either.

It was older. Broader.

Elementless in the worst kind of way—like something not meant to be shaped.

Leonard stood still, his heartbeat steady, even as his mind raced beneath his still exterior.

Was something happening?

Had something awakened?

Or worse—

Had something recognized him?

He didn't know.

Behind them, Irina stepped forward into a geyser's burst, using the vapor to mask her ignition point. She didn't call her spell this time—she just raised a hand, and three spiraling orbs of fire curved outward in a perfect arc, one for each approaching shadow on the opposite ridge.

The beasts didn't scream.

They simply ceased.

"Irina, rear left!" Sylvie called, already weaving a sigil mid-air.

Irina pivoted as a fourth harrier dove through the mist—but before it could strike, a glowing tether lashed around its body, jerking it sideways. Sylvie's binding glyph yanked the beast mid-flight, off-course and into a pillar of burning stone left behind by Irina's previous strike.

"Beautiful," Irina muttered.

Astron moved through the middle of the formation, not drawing attention—but always where he needed to be. A claw strike aimed for Sylvie's blind spot—parried. A beast slipping past Jasmine—stabbed mid-air before it landed. A mana surge from the canyon floor? Already marked, already called out.

But this time, he didn't command the team.

He worked with them.

The formation shifted like gears—rotating smoothly as monsters flanked from the upper ridges and tunnel mouths. Sylvie fell back without prompting when pressure rose, and Irina slid in, not to save her—but to replace her position. Layla didn't have to shout anymore—when she staggered from a blow, Jasmine was already there with a reverse grip catch, intercepting the next attacker.

It wasn't perfect.

They were bleeding. Panting. Tired.

But their rhythm was exact.

Monsters fell in sets of two, then four, then clusters—overwhelmed not by raw strength, but precision.

Jasmine cut through another beast with a tight, clean flourish—her strikes no longer wild, but paced, calculated, efficient.

"I think…" she panted, ducking beneath a collapsing ridge as Astron covered her retreat, "I'm starting to enjoy this."

Layla laughed, short and tired but bright. "That's because we're not scrambling anymore."

From behind, Sylvie's healing pulse washed through them, mending bruises, restoring movement, and reinforcing aura flow. Even her enhancements now anticipated shifts—buffing Irina's power just as she cast, boosting Jasmine's speed just before she engaged.

They were tired.

But they were sharp.

And as the final wave of monsters surged from the far canyon ridge, jaws open and wings spread wide—

The team reformed without speaking.

WHOOOOOOOM!

The monster wave surged over the ridge like a flood of fang and talon—eight, ten, fifteen of them. Winged lizard-kin with serrated tails and molten orange eyes, their scaled bodies reinforced by mana plating that shimmered beneath the canyon haze.

But Team Fourteen was already in motion.

Layla stepped forward, boots grinding into the cracked stone as she slammed her shield into the ground with a resonant KLANG!—activating her skill Anchor Pulse. A radiant ring of force erupted outward, slowing enemy momentum within a ten-meter radius and dragging the first two beasts into her zone of control.

One lunged—she caught it mid-air, her shield erupting with glowing runes as she met its jaw with a forward bash. THUMP! The creature's skull snapped sideways.