Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

The academy café was quieter than usual, the low hum of mana lamps casting a warm amber glow across the room as afternoon light filtered through the tall windows. The same large table near the back corner had become their unofficial meeting spot—tucked away, with just enough space to spread out notes, holo-screens, and half-finished drinks.

This time, the group had arrived with more efficiency, sliding into their seats without hesitation, their bags dropping with familiar weight onto the wooden floor.

“Alright,” Jasmine said, tapping her fingers against the table rhythmically. “Let’s not waste time. We already know the basics this time around, so we can start placing people right away.”

Layla nodded, arms crossed as she leaned back in her seat. “Five-person formation, Tri-Layer Pressure. That means front line, mid-pressure, and support.”

“Right,” Irina said, eyes already scanning a digital map projected from her tablet. “Three layers. And it’s about pressure points, not just raw defense or offense.”

Astron, already seated with his usual composed air, didn’t speak. He simply watched, arms resting on the table, his sharp purple eyes observing as they moved into discussion. He didn’t interrupt. Not yet. This was a test in itself—and one they needed to navigate.

Sylvie adjusted her sleeve and leaned in, voice calm. “So who takes the front line?”

Layla raised a hand without hesitation. “That’s me. No question.”

“Agreed,” Jasmine said. “Layla’s our shield. She anchors the formation.”

Sylvie nodded. “Then Irina and Jasmine should be second line. You two apply pressure while rotating between support and direct offense.”

Irina raised an eyebrow. “You’re putting me in the mid-line? Not rear?”

“You’re too aggressive to sit in the back,” Jasmine replied, smirking. “Let Sylvie handle that. She can multitask between enchantments and support control better than anyone.”

Irina huffed softly. “Fair.”

“What about the last spot?” Layla asked, looking around. “That leaves Astron.”

All eyes shifted to him.

He didn’t respond immediately—just looked up, meeting their stares with a faint glint in his gaze.

“You tell me,” he said simply.

They blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

Jasmine tilted her head, thoughtful. “Mid-line. Between me and Irina. You cover the flanks, adapt to enemy positioning. You’re fast enough to rotate front to back if needed.”

“Agreed,” Sylvie said. “You’re flexible and fast. You’ll reinforce wherever the cracks start to form.”

Astron gave a small nod. “That’s correct.”

He didn’t praise them—but the absence of critique was enough. They’d done well.

Irina leaned back in her chair, a slow smile creeping across her lips as she looked around the table. The group was focused, composed, and—more importantly—cohesive.

“This is going to be a breeze,” she muttered, mostly to herself, but loud enough for the others to hear.

Layla snorted. “Don’t jinx it.”

Jasmine grinned. “Nah, let her. I kinda like confident Irina. She makes things more fun.”

Sylvie just offered a soft smile, but her gaze flicked toward Astron for a second—quietly confirming that he seemed content with the decisions they’d made. He gave no indication of disagreement. Just a slight shift in his posture as he began shutting off his tablet.

Irina stood, brushing a hand through her hair. “Well then. Shall we?”

They all rose one by one, drinks forgotten as they grabbed their bags. Outside, the sky had begun to dim just slightly—long shadows cast by the academy buildings stretching across the stone paths. The walk to the simulation gate was familiar now. Almost comfortable.

When they reached the entrance to the Mana-Linked Dungeon Arena, the energy was already different.

The crowd of cadets waiting their turn was buzzing with tension—some teams huddled in last-minute strategy whispers, others nervously glancing at the rotating roster display projected in the center of the plaza. Mana screens hovered above the area, showing shifting glimpses of the ever-changing dungeon layout beyond the gate.

Layla whistled softly. “Looks like it’s already intense in there.”

“They’ve definitely increased the difficulty,” Jasmine muttered. “That last team barely lasted ten minutes.”

Sylvie’s hands instinctively brushed against the clasps of her gloves, adjusting them in slow, practiced movements. Her mana was calm. So was her breathing.

Astron said nothing, but his gaze was fixed on the simulation gate, already analyzing. Already visualizing. Waiting.

Irina cracked her knuckles with a grin. “Let’s make this clean.”

A sharp tone echoed from the system console, and the instructor near the entrance raised a hand.

“Team Fourteen—report in.”

That was them.

Without hesitation, the five of them stepped forward. No nerves. No wasted movement.

The gate hissed as it activated, glowing blue mana spiraling around its archway.

As they stepped through into the light, the hum of the crowd faded behind them—and the chaos of the dungeon began.

******

The moment they stepped into the dungeon, the shift was immediate.

Light fractured around them—warped geometry, dense mana pressure, shifting terrain. The simulation had begun.

A wide, angular corridor greeted them first. Its walls pulsed faintly with red sigils, and the floor beneath their boots gave a subtle tremble, as if echoing something moving far below. Stone underfoot was slick in places, half-wet from condensation. Already, it was clear: this wasn’t a clean run.

“Tri-Layer Pressure formation,” Astron said without raising his voice. His tone was even, but final.

“Right.” Layla stepped forward without hesitation, shield already in hand, mana reinforcing her stance. The faint sheen of energy traced along her bracers as she crouched into a semi-defensive stance—low enough to anchor, light enough to move.

Irina and Jasmine fell into step behind her, slightly spread—just far enough apart to manage their respective lanes.

“I’ll take left,” Jasmine muttered, her blade humming softly as it ignited with mana. “Covering tight angles.”

“I’ve got center burn,” Irina added, palms flickering with fire. Her hair, caught in a low updraft of ambient mana, seemed to shimmer like a slow-burning fuse.

Sylvie stayed at the rear. She didn’t speak—just raised her hand slightly as yellow mana laced along her fingers. Small glyphs flickered across her gloves, cycling through light-based patterns. Her job wasn’t to deal damage—it was to amplify, to reinforce, and, if needed, to collapse collapsing lines.

Astron took position to the right of Irina, angled just behind Layla. From here, he had visual on both front and rear. A balancing point.

The system pulsed.

“Wave One: Initiated.”

The dungeon rumbled—then screamed.

From the corridor ahead came a flood of noise: clattering claws, guttural howls, and the heavy thud of weight against stone. Pale shapes lunged from the shadows, bodies flickering between physical and spectral. Wraith-hounds. Fast, slippery, and smart. Their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, and their eyes glowed with fragmented blue light.

Layla stepped forward with a grunt, shield raised as the first hound leapt.

Clang!

The impact drove her back half a step, but her heels dug in.

“First pressure point—engaged!” she called.

Irina didn’t wait. A coil of fire lanced forward, threading through the narrow gap between Layla’s shoulder and shield. The flame struck the side of the wraith-hound, causing it to recoil with a shriek.

“Left!” Jasmine shouted.

Astron was already moving. A second hound had slithered low along the left flank, angling around the central line. Jasmine moved to intercept, blade cutting a wide crescent—but the creature was fast, bending away from her strike at the last second.

Before it could land, Astron was there. His dagger flashed once—twice.

Thunk.

The creature’s body collapsed, dissolving into static ash.

“Backline tremor,” Sylvie announced calmly. Her fingers flicked once, and a glyph pulsed through the air—golden, geometric. A flash of light shot forward, colliding with an invisible shape behind Layla. A hound had attempted a shadow-phase, but was forced back with a shriek.

“You’ve got that read now, huh?” Irina muttered, lips twitching.

“I’ve been practicing.”

Indeed, she was not staying idle.

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