Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 956

Emily stood just beyond the rows of bookshelves, her grip tightening unconsciously around the books in her arms. Her gaze had landed on him the moment she stepped in—Ethan, seated in the golden hush of the library beside a girl with quiet eyes and a calm presence.

Jane, she remembered her name vaguely. One of the upperclassmen. A senior, known for her composure and sharp analysis in both combat and theory.

They looked… close. Not overly so. But close enough.

Ethan leaned slightly toward her, their conversation low, unforced. There was an ease in the way he smiled, in the way Jane met his gaze and spoke to him with quiet familiarity. The kind of familiarity that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. The kind that built slowly, brick by brick, with time and trust and long conversations not everyone got to hear.

Emily’s throat tightened.

"Ethan?" she managed, the name slipping out before she could stop it. Her voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it echoed through the silence like a stone dropped into still water.

Both Ethan and Jane turned to look at her.

His eyes met hers—those hazel eyes she’d grown far too familiar with—and for a moment, everything else dimmed. Emily’s heart skipped a beat.

To her… Ethan was more than just a friend. More than just the boy who had helped her when she needed it most.

He was a savior.

Back when her guild had been collapsing, when her father was overwhelmed and the walls were closing in, Ethan hadn’t hesitated. He stepped in with his resources, his name, and more importantly—with his sincerity. He hadn’t asked for anything in return. No favor. No public acknowledgment. He simply helped.

He had been there. Consistently. Warm, kind, and principled.

Ethan, with his gentle strength and infuriating sense of responsibility.

Ethan, with that soft but steady voice that made her feel less alone.

Ethan, with a face carved from patience and a body forged from discipline.

And the worst part?

She couldn’t stop being drawn to him.

It was never just about gratitude. The more time she spent near him, the more she noticed the way he treated others, the way he carried himself—not just as a Hartley, not just as someone powerful, but as someone… good.

And it made things harder.

Because no matter how much she liked being around him—how much she caught herself waiting to see him, how much his words lingered long after he was gone—Emily knew the gap between them was vast.

He was a Hartley.

One of the Pentagon families. Raised in power, surrounded by influence, trained by the best.

And she… she was from a guild barely surviving.

Her talent, while decent, wasn’t exceptional. Her background, while honorable, wasn’t elite. She didn’t carry a legacy. She carried responsibility.

The weight of it pressed down on her shoulders every day.

And now that she saw him sitting beside Jane,

something deep inside Emily twisted.

It wasn’t just bitterness or jealousy—she knew better than to indulge those feelings so carelessly. But it was hard to ignore the silent ache rising in her chest, the quiet question that kept echoing no matter how many times she tried to suppress it:

Why does it hurt so much to see him with someone else?

It wasn’t even about what they were doing. They were just sitting, talking quietly, their notebooks open, their bodies angled toward each other in that natural way people share when they’re used to each other’s presence. Comfortable. Familiar.

But that comfort—that familiarity—was what struck Emily the hardest.

Because she wanted to be in that chair.

She wanted to be the one sitting beside him like that. Laughing with him quietly. Studying next to him. Talking about nothing and everything.

And the worst part?

She didn’t even have the right to feel this way.

"I—uh… you know me?" she asked, her voice quiet, almost uncertain.

It wasn’t the response Emily had expected from someone like her. From the way people spoke about Jane—sharp, analytical, the type who always had a plan—Emily had assumed she would be more composed, unreadable. But in this moment, Jane looked… almost embarrassed. Her fingers toyed with the rim of her tea cup, and her gaze briefly dropped to the table before flicking back up again.

Ethan looked between the two girls, his brows rising faintly in surprise. "That’s rare," he said with a soft chuckle, clearly picking up on Jane’s uncharacteristic shyness.

Emily coughed lightly into her hand, hoping to dispel the sudden awkwardness she hadn’t meant to create. "Well… I mean, everyone in the class knows who you are," she said, giving Jane a small, almost sheepish smile.

Emily turned her gaze toward Ethan, a small, teasing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "And… I guess it helps that Ethan’s pretty famous too. Everyone kind of knows who he is."

At that, Ethan blinked and let out a quiet, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Come on, I’m not that well known…"

But the faint pink rising in his cheeks betrayed the humility in his tone, and it made Emily’s smile soften—just a little.

The atmosphere hovered there for a second—warm, but weirdly awkward. None of them quite sure what to say next.

So Ethan, trying to break the silence, turned slightly toward Jane and gestured toward Emily. "Right—uh, I don’t think you two have formally met yet."

He gave Emily a brief glance before returning to Jane. "Jane, this is Emily Anderson. She’s… a friend."

Friend.

The word settled into Emily’s chest with more weight than it should have. She didn’t know why she expected him to say anything different. It wasn’t like she was hoping for a title, or for something more intimate. But the way he said it—so easily, so casually—cut deeper than she thought it would.

Just a friend.

Her fingers curled slightly against her books, but her smile didn’t falter. Not yet. freewebnøvel.com

"She’s the one I mentioned before," Ethan added. "The guild… the one that was going through a hard time a few months ago."

At that, Jane’s eyes widened slightly, her expression shifting into something softer.

"Oh… that was you."