Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Eleanor leaned back slightly, the faintest flicker of amusement crossing her expression. Astron’s question hung in the air, his calm voice still echoing faintly in her thoughts.

"Most brilliant..." he had said, his sharp gaze unwavering. "Professor, are you sure you’re not making a mistake?"

She had been expecting it. After all, as the instructor of HA25, she had spent countless hours observing her students, dissecting their personalities, abilities, and tendencies. This was no ordinary class; it was a melting pot of talent, ambition, and exceptional potential. Eleanor often thought of it as if someone had handpicked a cast for a movie—a collection of strikingly different characters, each with a unique role to play. And in that cast, Astron was one of the most enigmatic.

’Heh... as expected,’ she mused inwardly. Astron’s tendency to challenge decisions that didn’t align with logic or his understanding was something she had noted early on. He wasn’t one to blindly accept authority, and Eleanor appreciated that about him.

But more than that, she knew that Astron had been hiding his true strength. He stayed in the shadows, avoiding the spotlight and letting others draw attention while he moved silently, calculatingly, in the background. It was why she had anticipated a response like this from him.

’First, let’s see what you’re really thinking,’ Eleanor thought, her lips curving into a subtle smile. She decided to start with an ignorant act, tilting her head slightly and raising an eyebrow.

"What kind of mistake do you think I’m making?" she asked, her tone light, almost playful, though her sharp eyes betrayed a glint of challenge.

Astron’s gaze didn’t waver, his expression remaining as calm as ever. For a moment, Eleanor thought he might launch into a careful explanation, laying out the logical reasons why her decision could be flawed. It would be typical of him, and she had prepared herself for that—ready to counter his points or even humor his reasoning.

But then, Astron surprised her.

His gaze lingered on hers for a moment longer, and she felt a faint ripple in the air between them. Then, he shook his head slowly, a faint sigh escaping him. "No," he said quietly, his voice measured. "I’m sorry for overestimating myself. I’m sure you have your reasons."

Eleanor froze, the words catching her off-guard. It wasn’t the content of his response but the delivery—the quiet acknowledgment, the almost imperceptible flicker of understanding in his sharp purple eyes. It wasn’t just that he accepted her authority; it was as if he had seen straight through her, as if he knew that she had already seen through him.

’He knows,’ Eleanor thought, the realization striking her like a subtle shift in the wind. Astron’s words weren’t the words of someone conceding defeat or simply deflecting. They were the words of someone who had understood her game and decided not to play it—someone who had acknowledged her insight without giving away more than necessary.

For the first time in a while, Eleanor felt a flicker of something akin to unease. It wasn’t unpleasant; rather, it was the thrill of being faced with someone who wasn’t as straightforward as they seemed.

"Well," she said finally, her voice as steady as ever, though a faint smile played at the corners of her lips. "I’m glad to see you trust my judgment, Astron."

Ethan, who had been watching the exchange with a mix of curiosity and amusement, raised an eyebrow. "What just happened? Did I miss something?"

Eleanor tilted her head slightly, her expression calm as she addressed Ethan’s curious remark. "You missed nothing," she said evenly, the faintest hint of amusement lacing her tone. "Just a simple exchange."

Ethan squinted at her for a moment, his hazel eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to puzzle out the truth behind her words. But then he shrugged, leaning back in his chair with his characteristic grin. "If you say so."

As silence settled over the room again, Eleanor allowed herself a moment to ponder the two cadets before her. Ethan’s reaction—or rather, his sense—had not gone unnoticed. Even though his mind hadn’t fully grasped what had transpired, he had instinctively felt that something had happened. It was a quality Eleanor recognized as one of Ethan’s greatest strengths: his ability to sense shifts in mood, tension, and intention, even when logic didn’t fully explain them.

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’Intuition,’ she thought, her sharp gaze briefly resting on him. It was this instinctive perception, this almost primal sense, that had allowed him to adapt so fluidly during his battles. He didn’t need all the answers to act; he simply knew when and how to move.

Her gaze shifted to Astron. ’Logic and observation,’ she mused silently. Where Ethan relied on intuition, Astron was a different kind of genius altogether. His meticulous attention to detail and analytical nature allowed him to dissect situations, anticipate outcomes, and execute with precision. He never acted without understanding the full picture—or, at least, as much of it as he could piece together.

Two sides of the same coin. Eleanor found herself wondering, not for the first time, which quality was superior. "Logic and observation," she murmured softly, her eyes flicking back to Ethan. "Or instinct and intuition?"

Both cadets glanced at her, but she didn’t elaborate. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studied them.

"And I wonder," she said aloud, her tone almost thoughtful, "what will happen when they’re pushed. How far can they go?"

Ethan tilted his head, clearly curious, though he remained silent. Astron, as always, gave no outward reaction, his sharp purple eyes remaining steady on hers.

For Eleanor, it was a question that demanded an answer. Over the past semester, she had carefully observed all of her students. HA25 was a class filled with exceptional talent—cadets who, under the right circumstances, could become legends in their own right. But among them, these two had stood out, not just for their skills but for what lay beneath them. The way they approached the world, the way they adapted, the way they thought—it was as if they were built for something greater.

’And now,’ Eleanor thought, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly, ’I’ve narrowed my search to these two.’

There was no doubt in her mind that Ethan and Astron represented her best hope. But which of them would rise to the top? Which of them could truly embody the qualities she sought? It was a question she needed to answer, and soon. The stakes were too high to leave it to chance.

"Let’s hope," she murmured to herself, her gaze distant as she studied the two cadets, "one of these two... is the one."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, glancing at Astron as if to gauge whether he had caught what Eleanor had said. Astron, however, seemed unfazed, his calm demeanor unbroken.

"Well, if you’re done being cryptic, Professor," Ethan said with a lopsided grin, "anything else we should know, or are we free to go?"

Eleanor coughed softly into her hand, the faintest hint of color rising to her otherwise composed face as she realized she had let a slip of thought escape her lips. Quickly recovering her composure, she straightened in her chair and addressed the two cadets with her usual calm authority.

"Now," she began, her tone deliberate, "while I am confident in my skills as one of the best instructors in this academy, it is also true that, with this decision, I am limiting your ability to make your own choices."

Her gaze flicked between the two of them, pausing briefly on Ethan, whose grin had returned, and Astron, whose expression remained as unreadable as ever.

"It is, in some ways, unfair," she continued, her voice steady. "The other cadets in your year will have the freedom to select their mentors, hunters who align with their goals or who they believe will bring out the best in them. That right has been taken from you."

Ethan’s grin faltered slightly, replaced by a thoughtful expression as he leaned forward. Astron’s sharp eyes remained on Eleanor, his silence unbroken.

"Therefore," Eleanor said, allowing a small, almost imperceptible smile to play on her lips, "it’s only fair that you receive some form of compensation."

Ethan’s gaze narrowed slightly at her smile, a flicker of suspicion crossing his hazel eyes. "Why does it feel like we’re being played?" he muttered, half to himself.

Eleanor’s sharp glare snapped toward him, her piercing eyes narrowing just enough to silence him. Ethan immediately sat up straighter, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Ahaha—joke," he said quickly, laughing nervously. "It was just a joke, Professor."

Satisfied, Eleanor’s gaze softened—slightly—and she turned her attention back to the discussion. Ethan glanced at Astron, silently pleading for support, but Astron merely averted his gaze, refusing to engage.

Ethan groaned softly under his breath. "Traitor," he muttered, though it was barely audible.

Eleanor resumed speaking as though the interruption hadn’t occurred. "For most of the freshmen cadets, the mentorship program will be limited in scope. The hunters assigned to them will, understandably, focus more on the junior and senior cadets—those who are nearing graduation and preparing for their futures. Freshmen will typically have no more than one hour a day with their mentors."

She allowed her words to settle for a moment before continuing. "However, the two of you will be different."

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