Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 1016 Chapter 239.2 – About Sylvie

Irina let out a breath, eyes fixed ahead once more. “So that’s why you acted so close to her.”

Astron didn’t answer right away. He just kept walking, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded under the lamplight.

Then, quietly, he said, “Don’t you already know the answer?”

Irina didn’t respond-but the way her brows drew together, the small, flickering shift in her expression, said she did.

Of course she did.

Because even if Astron was a creature of logic-reserved, analytical, always calculating there were certain things that pulled at him deeper than strategy or self-preservation.

A code.

An instinct.

A debt that couldn’t be left unpaid.

Irina had known that from the beginning. She’d seen it back when they first met, back before the world had burned and reshaped itself around survival. Even then, he had carried that quiet, unrelenting sense of obligation-toward people who helped him. Toward moments he couldn’t forget.

And Sylvie had saved his life.

Of course he would protect her.

Of course he would watch over her, speak to her, keep her in his orbit- however subtly.

Even now, Irina could feel the quiet edge of that guilt-driven loyalty in him. It wasn’t affection. It wasn’t attraction. It was deeper and more rigid. A principle, carved into bone by the kind of life that didn’t allow loose ends when it came to trust.

That was why Maya had always been the hardest part.

Because Maya had helped him too.

And Irina-who knew the person Astron used to be, who knew the weight of his past, the cold logic twisted around his trauma-had always hated how impossible it was to make him let go of people like that. People who, even if they didn’t deserve his loyalty anymore, had once been the hand that reached into his void.

Astron didn’t look at her. Didn’t have to.

He knew what she was thinking.

And Irina, jaw tight, couldn’t stop herself from saying quietly, “It’s really hard, you know. Watching you tie yourself down to old debts like that.”

His gaze flicked toward her.

Not sharply.

Just… knowingly.

And for a moment, neither of them said anything more.

The silence between them wasn’t angry.

But it wasn’t soft, either.

“Tch.”

Irina clicked her tongue and gave a sharp exhale, the tension still coiled faintly in her shoulders. But then she added-half mutter, half challenge-

“I don’t want to mix you with Sylvie. She’s way too cute.”

Astron turned slightly, one eyebrow lifting with visible confusion. “Cute?”

“Yes,” Irina said flatly, as if daring him to argue. “She’s small, she stammers, she heals things with glowing flowers, and she panics whenever someone looks at her too long. You? You’re practically a walking ghost with a blade. The contrast is criminal.”

Astron gave no comment, but the faint crease in his brow betrayed a flicker of amusement. Irina caught it and pressed on, this time her voice easing a little- less guarded.

“There were times,” she said, “when I thought there might be something strange between the two of you. You always kept your distance from people unless there was a reason. But with her… it felt different.”

Astron didn’t reply. His expression remained unreadable.

Irina kept walking, but her gaze flicked sideways. “But now that I’m looking at it again, it’s not like that. You’re not close to her like that… You’re more like-“

She hesitated.

“-a guide.”

Astron’s pace didn’t change, but she saw the shift in his eyes.

“You’ve been preparing her for this. For things like today. Was that why you agreed to teach her close combat?”

A beat.

“What?” Irina pressed, her tone edging toward playful suspicion. “Did I guess too close?”

Seeing the small, satisfied curl at the corner of her mouth, Astron just shook his head and gave a breath through his nose. “You know me well.”

Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

Not a smirk. Not a twitch of the mouth.

An actual, quiet smile.

It was small-barely there-but it was real. And Irina’s steps slowed just a

fraction as she caught it.

It was strange how that slight shift could warm the air around them.

He had been doing that more often lately. Smiling.

And for reasons she didn’t say aloud, it made her happy.

So that was it, then. The bond between him and Sylvie wasn’t something she

had to be wary of. It wasn’t a budding romance or something subtle brewing behind the scenes.

It was respect. Debt. A carefully held promise wrapped in Astron’s quiet sense

of honor.

Irina looked forward again, exhaling softly through her nose, her thoughts laced with something between amusement and wariness.

“Though… who knows what this bastard will do?” she thought dryly.

Now that he had a face like that-softened by a smile, brief but undeniably real -Irina knew she could never let her guard down. Not fully. Astron wasn’t like the others. He never had been. He could be unreadable, distant, careful with his words-and yet, every so often, he revealed something like this. A sliver of warmth. Of honesty. And it made everything more complicated.

Still, for now… things were going fine. There was no need to stir the water.

She let the breeze run past them as they walked down the quiet path, the last of the lanterns flickering to life overhead. The air was tinged with fresh dew and residual mana from the trials earlier, but it was peaceful. Steady. A rare pause between storms.

Irina turned her gaze toward him again, golden eyes sharp beneath the shadows of her lashes.

“So,” she asked, voice casual, “what do you think of the current situation?”

Astron glanced sideways. “Sylvie’s situation?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He didn’t hesitate. “That was bound to happen.” Irina gave a quiet scoff. “You think I didn’t know that?”

“I’m saying you did.”

And she had. From the moment Sylvie had been placed on their team-back

during the second half of the first midterm-Irina had seen it. The way the girl’s magic flexed under stress. Her adaptability. Her raw instinct and control, despite her hesitation. It was just buried under fear, under pressure, under the weight of trying not to be seen. But Irina had seen it. And she’d known where it

would lead.

Still…

Astron’s voice interrupted her thoughts again, low and smooth, almost offhanded. “Seeing you like this reminds me of something.”

Irina blinked, glancing over. “What?”

He didn’t answer right away. He looked up toward the academy lights, hands

tucked into his pockets, the silver of his hair catching under the lampglow.

“That you’re a celebrity too.”

Irina stopped walking.

“What?”

He turned to meet her gaze fully. His eyes-deep purple in the light-held that

usual calm… but beneath it, something more precise. Measured. Intentional. “When you’re in front of a crowd,” Astron continued, “or facing down high-ranking scouts, instructors, even nobles-you shift. Your voice tightens. Your posture becomes precise. There’s weight in your words. Calculation in

your gaze!”

He paused. “It’s… charismatic.”

The word was spoken plainly, as if it were simply the most fitting descriptor available. No embellishment. No hesitation.

Irina’s mouth twitched. Just slightly.

Brutal honesty.

It was one of his more annoying qualities-especially because she still hadn’t figured out how to deal with it smoothly. Astron didn’t say things to flatter or provoke. He said them because they were true. And that always made it harder

to deflect.

“So,” she muttered, glancing sidelong at him with an unimpressed look, “you’re saying I’m not charismatic normally?”