Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

A woman approached from the far end of the street. Yellow hair pulled into a clean, high tail that didn’t sway with her steps. Pale skin. Blue eyes that didn’t glow—but cut. Her presence was not that of a hunter stepping into a scene.

It was the arrival of gravity.

“What is going on here?” she asked, her voice level—flat as a drawn blade laid on silk.

The group froze.

Even Layla—normally the first to tease or deflect—stood straighter.

Irina’s expression sharpened with recognition. “Professor.”

Jasmine sucked in a breath, wide-eyed. “Wait, wait—Eleanor White?”

Leonard blinked.

He knew that name.

Everyone in the field did.

Eleanor White.

The youngest hunter in modern history to be ranked on the top-ranker lists—Stage 7 by nineteen, battlefield-cleared by twenty-one, offered high-command contracts by twenty-three… and rejected them all.

He had never met her in person.

She wasn’t supposed to be active.

Let alone stationed here.

Let alone walking directly toward this table.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move.

Because Eleanor’s eyes were already on him.

And they did not blink.

“You flared a top-tier offensive spell inside Arcadia Hunter Academy bounds,” she said to Leonard. “There are safeguards. Alarms. Restrictions. Explain yourself.”

Her tone never rose. But Leonard felt the same weight that monsters must feel when they realized too late what kind of predator they had tried to challenge.

Eleanor White didn’t raise her voice.

She didn’t have to.

The pressure in the air was already enough to press against the bones of the street itself—silent, refined, and absolute. The lanterns above flickered once, not from wind, but from the mana in the atmosphere recoiling like it knew better.

Leonard stood calmly beneath it. Externally composed.

Internally?

His mind was still locked on the thread of mana he’d felt from Astron.

That single flicker.

That single betrayal of stillness.

The artifact was still faintly warm beneath his coat. His fingers rested near it—not in preparation now, but in thought.

Should I kill him?

He could.

Right here.

Right now.

The spell was still burned into his reflex. It would be faster the second time. Cleaner. If Astron truly was the Kin of the Moon, Leonard couldn’t risk delay. Couldn’t allow time for awakening. Couldn’t allow time for realization.

But…

Eleanor was here.

And not just here—standing between.

The others were beginning to speak now, cutting in quickly.

“It was us,” Layla said, her voice rising just slightly. “We asked him to show us something. It wasn’t an attack, Professor, I swear.”

“He was just demonstrating,” Jasmine added, hands slightly raised. “No targets. No harm done.”

“He didn’t aim at anything,” Irina said, quietly but firmly. “And the spell ended cleanly.”

Sylvie’s voice came last—calm, low. “It’s my fault. I was curious.”

Eleanor didn’t even blink.

“You were curious,” she repeated, gaze never leaving Leonard. “So he flared a battlefield-grade displacement piercing spell in open airspace. Inside academy wards.”

Leonard didn’t defend himself.

Not because he couldn’t.

But because his mind hadn’t left Astron.

If she wasn’t here…

He could’ve moved already. The others wouldn’t have seen it coming. Astron would’ve died before the truth surfaced. Before the prophecy could lock itself into reality.

But Eleanor was not just present.

She was watching.

And Leonard knew her by more than just rank.

The Invoker.

A title earned—not given. Her control of mana wasn’t just technical—it was strategic. Tactile. She could sense fluctuation before a spell even fully formed. Could split channels in open space. Could dismantle layered magic with nothing but a gesture and a breath.

And she didn’t just outrank him.

She was the worst match for someone like him.

For someone whose spells required precision, stealth, time.

And judging by her posture—by the way her stance had shifted subtly toward Astron, as if to intercept—she wasn’t here by coincidence.

She had come for a reason.

‘She felt it too,’ Leonard thought grimly. ‘She’s not just here for the spell.’

His lips pressed into a flat line. The pressure hadn’t lifted. She was still measuring him. Still waiting for a misstep.

And he felt it now.

Not the dread of being caught.

The certainty of being outplayed.

He wouldn’t win this fight.

Not with her here.

So… he would wait.

Astron lived—for now.

But Leonard’s thoughts were already shifting.

‘If the Kin is walking in plain sight, cloaked like a sleeper—then I need to change everything.’

He slowly relaxed his shoulders, gaze meeting Eleanor’s.

“I accept the reprimand,” he said evenly. “You’re right. I acted beyond protocol.”

“Good,” Eleanor replied without pause. “Then you can leave campus within the next five minutes. Your assignment window ends at dusk.”

Leonard bowed slightly. “Understood.”

Eleanor didn’t dismiss him. She simply turned—back straight, pace crisp—and began walking into the mist-thinned path beyond the lanterns. Her presence faded not like a retreating threat…

…but like a trap resetting itself.

And Leonard?

He remained still just a few seconds longer, the artifact no longer trembling—but burning cold against his skin.

Kin of the Moon.

His eyes found Astron again—still unreadable, still standing as if none of this had changed anything.

But Leonard knew better.

Something had changed.

Everything had.

Leonard’s boots made no sound as he stepped into the cooling mist, but the weight he carried now was heavier than any he had borne since arriving.

He knew.

No more doubts. No more uncertainty. No more scanning crowds or chasing phantom signals through false awakenings and dead relics.

Astron Natusalune.

That was his target.

The Kin of the Moon.

The very thing Leonard had been dispatched to find, warned against in prophecies disguised as riddles, hunted in ruins where celestial glyphs still burned beneath dust.

And now?

He wasn’t hidden behind veils or sealed in temples. He wasn’t surrounded by cultists or protected by divine terrain.

He was… Sylvie’s teammate.

Her friend.

Leonard’s lips twitched—not into a smile, but something more bitter. More complicated.

“Haah…”

A quiet exhale, breath folding into the damp night.

To think that the Kin of the Moon ended up beside Sylvie… of all people.

The very girl they had once considered disposable.

Sold off in silence to fulfill a contract.

A gamble made in shadows by people who thought fate could be bought with pain.

If they hadn’t done that…

If they hadn’t nulled the contract—then none of this might have happened, in this manner….

The contract would have gone through.

And the Kin of the Moon…

Leonard’s fingers brushed the edge of the artifact again.

“It was never necessary…” he murmured, voice low, distant. “The contract… none of it. Fate had already moved.”

And now?

“Ahahahaha….”

Now he didn’t have to search anymore.

It really was just too funny…

He just needed time.

Time to confirm. Time to test. Time to kill.

It wouldn’t be hard to arrange.

Not now. Not when Astron was already close to Sylvie. Not when he was part of her circle. Part of her trust.

All Leonard had to do was ask for a meeting.

A shared training session. A quiet walk. A moment where no others watched. Where no one could see what needed to be done.

The closer he was to Sylvie, the easier it would be.

The irony bit deep.

The sister they had cast aside had walked fate back into their hands.

And she didn’t even know it.

Leonard stepped into the night, breath steady, eyes sharp.

Next time, there would be no hesitation.

He knew his target.

And now?

He only needed to choose the right moment…

to end him.