Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

As Sylvie descended the rugged parkour course with Jasmine at her side, she couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of relief. The tension from earlier had begun to ebb, replaced by a comfortable camaraderie as she and her friend navigated the path. Along with them was a new addition to their little group—Layla, one of Jasmine’s regular teammates, who had ended up joining them during the descent.

Layla was a bright presence, her honey-blonde hair tied back in a simple ponytail that bounced as she walked. She had an easy smile that rarely left her face, and Sylvie’s [Authority] detected nothing but positive emotions radiating from her: curiosity, amusement, and the steady warmth of friendliness. It was refreshing, especially after the emotional chaos of earlier events.

"Whew, that was intense," Layla said, brushing some dust off her hands. "I think I’ve got rocks in places I didn’t know existed."

Jasmine laughed, her own auburn hair sticking to her forehead from sweat. "Speak for yourself! I swear, whoever designed that incline was trying to break us."

Sylvie couldn’t help but smile, her gaze drifting between her two companions. For all the challenges of the day, it was nice to end it on a lighter note. Layla’s cheerful energy felt infectious, and for the first time in a while, Sylvie felt herself genuinely relaxed.

As they reached a flatter section of the course, Jasmine glanced sideways at Sylvie, her eyes narrowing playfully. "You know, I’m starting to think I got the short end of the stick."

"Huh?" Sylvie blinked in confusion.

"I mean, you got to ride on Irina’s bus," Jasmine teased, her tone dripping with mock envy. "While the rest of us mere mortals had to scrape by on our own two feet."

Sylvie flushed, waving her hands defensively. "Hey, I wasn’t just riding along! I contributed too, you know."

"Oh, sure you did," Jasmine said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "Just sitting there all regal, smoothing out terrain and letting Irina blaze the trail. Must’ve been so hard."

"It was hard!" Sylvie protested, her cheeks puffing slightly in indignation. "I was using my [Authority] the whole time to make sure the team didn’t lose footing! Without me, they could’ve tripped or worse."

"Uh-huh," Jasmine said, her grin widening. "Keep telling yourself that, princess."

Layla giggled, watching the exchange with amused eyes. "You two are hilarious," she said, shaking her head. "Honestly, Sylvie, it sounds like you did a great job. Irina’s team wouldn’t have made it to the summit first without everyone pulling their weight."

"Exactly!" Sylvie said, pointing at Layla as if she had just been handed undeniable proof of her argument.

Jasmine chuckled, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll admit, you did well this time, Sylvie. Happy?"

Sylvie crossed her arms, though her lips twitched upward in a small smile. "I’ll take it."

As the three continued down the course, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—the difficulty of the course, funny moments from their respective teams, and plans for the evening. Layla’s presence felt natural as if she had always been part of their group, and Sylvie couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride at the growing circle of friends.

She thought briefly of Danielle.

"Gloomy again? What happened this time?"

Sylvie sighed, her gaze momentarily dropping to the rocky path beneath their feet. "I was just… thinking of Danielle."

The name hadn’t even fully left her lips before Jasmine stopped in her tracks, her expression darkening. Her usual playfulness was gone, replaced by a sharp, cold look in her eyes. "Don’t mention that bitch’s name again," Jasmine said firmly, her voice low but carrying a sharp edge. "Remember, she was a Demon Contractor."

Sylvie nodded slowly, understanding the weight of Jasmine’s words. "I know," she said softly, her voice tinged with melancholy. "I don’t miss her. Not after everything she did. But I guess… I miss the time when we were friends."

Jasmine’s eyes softened slightly at that, but her tone remained resolute. "She betrayed all of us, Sylvie. Everything we stood for. Whatever friendship we had with her—it was built on lies."

A moment of silence passed between them before Layla, who had been listening quietly, hesitated and asked, "Umm… Danielle. Was she the one who tried to capture Irina Emberheart? The one… who was killed by her?"

"Yes," Jasmine said curtly, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"I see…" Layla murmured, her usual cheerfulness dimmed by the weight of the revelation. She glanced at Sylvie, who still looked thoughtful, and decided not to press further.

Jasmine, however, wasn’t one to dwell on the past for long. She took a deep breath, shaking off the tension, and clapped a hand on Sylvie’s shoulder. "Those times are behind us now, Sylvie," she said firmly. "You’ve got to let them go. Focus on what’s in front of you."

Sylvie gave her a small, faint smile, the corners of her lips barely turning up. "I know, I know," she replied, her voice steadier now. "I’m just… sorting through it all."

"Good," Jasmine said with a grin, her tone brightening as she slipped back into her usual teasing demeanor. "Because we’ve got better things to worry about. Like the fact that I’m starving, and you owe me snacks for making me jealous earlier."

Sylvie laughed softly at that, grateful for the lighter turn in conversation. "Fine, fine. But only if you stop calling me ’princess.’"

"No promises," Jasmine shot back with a wink.

Layla watched the two of them with a small, content smile. Though she didn’t know the full story of what had happened with Danielle, she could sense the strength of the bond between Jasmine and Sylvie. Whatever trials they had faced, it was clear that they had come through them stronger—and Layla was happy to be part of their growing circle.

The descent finished in lighthearted banter, with Jasmine and Layla teasing Sylvie as they reached the base of the parkour course. The tension from earlier had dissipated entirely, leaving the three of them laughing as they brushed off the dust from their trek.

"Well, I’ll see you two later," Sylvie said, stepping back slightly as she adjusted the strap of her bag.

Jasmine’s eyebrows shot up, her curiosity evident. "Hee? Who are you meeting with?" she asked, a sly grin spreading across her face.

Sylvie sighed, already bracing herself for the teasing. "It’s nothing like that this time," she protested, crossing her arms. "I’m just going to train! Train, okay?"

Jasmine smirked, clearly unconvinced. "Whatever you say, princess," she replied, her tone dripping with mock disbelief.

Sylvie’s lips pursed, her face flushing slightly. "I mean it!" she insisted, though she quickly realized she wasn’t going to win this one. "Anyway, I really need to go. See you both later."

Layla waved cheerfully. "Good luck with your training!" she said, her bright smile making Sylvie feel a little more grounded.

"Thanks," Sylvie replied with a small, genuine smile before turning on her heel and walking away. The laughter of her friends lingered behind her as she made her way across the academy grounds, her thoughts shifting to the task ahead.

*****

The training facility was tucked away in a quieter part of the academy, its entrance marked by a pair of intricately carved stone doors that radiated faint mana. This was no ordinary training hall—it was a specialized space, built under the Headmaster’s guidance and tailored specifically for her.

Sylvie pushed the doors open, stepping into the expansive chamber. The air inside was heavy with mana, the walls lined with ancient runes that shimmered faintly in the dim light. At the center of the room stood the man who had pushed her beyond her limits time and time again—the Headmaster himself.

"Sylvie, you’re here," he said, his deep voice carrying a quiet authority that made the vast chamber feel even larger.

"Headmaster," Sylvie replied, bowing slightly out of respect. She straightened quickly, her gaze meeting his. His presence always had a way of grounding her, even when her thoughts were a storm of emotions.

It was the time for her training with Headmaster Jonathan.

******

Eleanor sat in her dimly lit office, the holographic display glowing softly in front of her. A steaming cup of her signature coffee rested beside her, its rich aroma filling the room as she leaned forward, her sharp eyes fixed on the training footage playing before her.

The scenes of Astron and Ethan unfolded in silence. Both stood out among the cadets, but for vastly different reasons.

Ethan’s movements were fluid and instinctive, as though he wasn’t navigating the traps and illusions so much as anticipating them. Each step seemed deliberate, his hazel eyes scanning ahead, narrowing occasionally as if he could feel the distortions in the air.

"Intuitive," Eleanor muttered to herself, her voice barely above a whisper.

She rewound a section of the footage, zooming in on Ethan’s posture. It wasn’t something overtly mystical—it was a mixture of sharp instincts and an uncanny ability to sense. A rare gift, if honed properly.

Her gaze shifted to the next segment, focusing on Astron. His presence was starkly different. Calm, composed, and methodical, his purple eyes betrayed no urgency, only calculation. His movements through the traps lacked Ethan’s fluidity, but there was something almost surgical in the way he approached each challenge.

Yet, something about it gnawed at Eleanor’s thoughts. She rewound the footage again, this time isolating Astron’s sequences.

’Why does it feel like he’s holding back?’ she thought, her brow furrowing slightly.

She had been thinking about this for a while, and there was this weird sensation whenever she had watched Astron’s footage.

It was not something that she was sure of, as after all, Astron didn’t show any signs of that. But there was this gnawing feeling that she was getting from Astron.

It was something that eh had developed after watching him and analyzing him all the time.

She felt that his choices were too deliberate, too measured. It wasn’t hesitation—Astron wasn’t the type to falter under pressure. No, it was as if he was deliberately stopping short of revealing his full capabilities.

She tapped her fingers on the desk, the rhythmic sound filling the silence. Her sharp mind worked through the possibilities, piecing together what she’d observed over the semester.

Astron had always been an enigma. His earlier reputation as a troublemaker had painted him as unremarkable, but recent events had shattered that illusion. His involvement in critical situations, his growth in skill, and now this—Eleanor couldn’t shake the feeling that Astron was playing a long game.

Her thoughts turned to why she was reviewing this footage in the first place. The decision was simple, driven by logic and instinct.

"It must be one of the two," she murmured. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the paused frames of Ethan and Astron. The academy needed leaders—figures who could carry the weight of their peers and rise above mediocrity. And in this class, these two were the strongest candidates.

Eleanor leaned back in her chair, her gaze lingering on Astron’s unreadable expression in the footage. Her lips pressed into a thin line as a conclusion began to form.

"I guess that will do it."

She decided to act.

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