Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 1017 Chapter 240.1 – Saw

“So. You’re saying I’m not charismatic normally?”

Astron turned to look at her fully, his gaze calm as ever, but this time there was something undeniably deliberate in his pause-like he was giving her one last chance to brace herself.

“That much,” he said flatly, “must be obvious even to you.”

Irina stopped in her tracks.

Her eyes narrowed, sharp and glinting with heat. “Obvious, huh?”

Astron met her stare without a flicker of hesitation. “You’re too stubborn. Too direct. And your temper flares in under five seconds.”

“And yet somehow,” she shot back, stepping up beside him again, “people still line up to listen when I speak.”

“They’re scared of you,” he said, almost too fast.

Irina blinked. “Scared?”

Astron shrugged, hands tucked casually in his pockets. “Charisma through fear is still charisma.”

“You little-” She exhaled, half-laughing now, trying not to give him the satisfaction. “You really know how to kill a compliment.”

“You were the one who asked.”

Irina shook her head and smacked him lightly on the arm as they walked. “You know, for someone who barely talks to people, you’ve got a real talent for getting under their skin.”

“I consider it efficient.”

She scoffed, but couldn’t stop the grin tugging at her lips.

Despite everything-the long day, the tension with the scouts, the uncertainty ahead-somehow, with Astron beside her and his dry honesty filling the air like it always did, the world felt just a little easier to walk through. A little lighter. Warmer.

She smiled, quietly, and didn’t bother hiding it.

Inside the simulated dungeon zone, the air was thick with the lingering stench of scorched flesh and mineral-heavy mana. Cracked stone and smoldering embers painted the aftermath of battle across the collapsed corridor walls. The projection sky above-painted with shifting hues of artificial dusk-cast long shadows over the battlefield.

Lucas stood still at the center of it all, the light catching against the blood-slick edge of his sword.

Beneath him, the broken forms of slain monsters lay in heaps-disfigured canines twisted by mana corruption, all bearing the signs of clean, efficient kills. Each strike had been purposeful. Every motion measured.

He exhaled slowly, letting the tension leave his shoulders.

Not bad…

His blue eyes drifted to the blade in his hand, to the gleaming streaks that marked the path of his latest improvement.

It’s getting better.

Lucas had spent the last two months refining his sword style, paring it down to its most fluid form. Cutting away waste, stripping off flair, keeping only what mattered. He no longer chased power in brute displays-it was about precision, intention, control.

And the results spoke for themselves.

Just then-

BAM!

A violent tremor shook the stone beneath him as a hammer came crashing down several meters away. The sound echoed through the corridor like a thunderclap. The last monster-a hulking brute covered in thorny bone protrusions-let out a strangled gurgle as its head was pulverized into the ground.

Blood sprayed against the nearby wall like red ink.

Carl stood over the remains, his massive warhammer still humming faintly from the force of impact.

He exhaled with satisfaction, resting the hammer’s head against the floor as he straightened up.

“It’s finished now.”

Carl’s hammer slid back into its magnetic holster with a low hum, the glow of its enchantment dimming as the mana settled. His broad frame cast a long shadow against the fractured dungeon wall.

Stoic as always.

Not a smile. Not a word beyond what needed to be said. His expression remained neutral, his posture as steady and unmoved as it had always been.

Lucas glanced sideways at him, the faintest smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Classic Carl.

That silence, that immovable presence-it was just how Carl Braveheart had always been. The type who never wasted energy on words. The type who took hits like a wall and never cracked. But Lucas had known him before. And he knew him after.

He had seen the future where Carl had fought beside Ethan. He had stood with him in the vanguard of desperate battles, had watched him hold the line against demon contractors and aberrants alike.

They had fought side by side often enough that Lucas had grown familiar with the way Carl moved, the way he breathed when strained, the way his mana

flexed under pressure.

And what he saw now…

It’s different.

Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly, letting his senses trace the after-echoes of mana in the room. The flow around Carl was cleaner now-sharper, denser. Not refined like a spellcaster’s, but thick with reinforced layers. It was the mark of someone whose body had been conditioned to absorb punishment without

breaking down.

He’s improving faster.

He didn’t need a scanner glyph to confirm it. He could see it in the way Carl’s movements were more grounded than before. His timing, too-just slightly

earlier, just slightly tighter.

He’s at least reached Rank-6 now. And some of his stats… Lucas’s eyes flicked to the faint aura residue trailing from Carl’s shoulders. May even be Rank-7 at

this point.

Most wouldn’t notice it. But Lucas had lived those fights before. The vision-no, that other future-had burned itself into his muscle memory. And now, with each interaction, he could feel the deviations stacking.

He could compare. He could measure.

He’s becoming stronger than he was back then. Earlier too.

Lucas inhaled slowly through his nose, letting the information settle. The

threads were shifting again.

Which means I’m not the only one getting stronger ahead of schedule. of footsteps echoed lightly across the cracked r-swift, deliberate, but unburdened by caution. Lucas glanced over his shoulder to see

ust

the rest of his team approaching.

Tarin, the team’s speed-type swordsman, arrived first. His dual blades were already sheathed, but his face still gleamed with residual adrenaline. He wore that lopsided grin of his, the one that always followed a clean run.

“Whew. That’s the fastest we’ve cleared a zone this week, yeah?” he said, swiping his brow with the back of his glove. “Feels like we’re finally getting into

a rhythm.”

“About time,” came Eliane’s voice, calm and crisp. The mana archer fell into step beside Tarin, her long ponytail swaying as she scanned the cleared corridor one last time. Her expression was composed, but there was a quiet spark in her amber eyes-one that hadn’t been there before. “Execution’s tightening. We didn’t waste a single volley.”

And trailing just a few paces behind them was Ryn. The team’s support-channeler was always a bit more reserved, but even now, he wore a

rare, contented smile. His gloves were still glowing faintly from mana residue, but the glow was steady-unstrained. “Shield timings were clean. Didn’t have to

overcharge once!”

Lucas looked at the three of them-Tarin, Eliane, Ryn.

Three more variables.

Three more people he had quietly scouted after the break, when he began to

see just how different the future was becoming. None of them had been particularly noteworthy in the vision-skilled, yes, but not important enough to leave any lasting imprint.

And yet… they too had changed.

They were developing faster. Sharper reflexes. Tighter coordination. Mana

signatures more polished than what they should have been at this point. That

was what drew Lucas to them in the first place.

Were they the ones?

He had wondered.

But no… after weeks of observation, analysis, and pressure testing, Lucas was

confident now. They weren’t the cause. They were simply caught in the same current-pushed forward by the same invisible force that had twisted the

future’s threads.

The real culprit was still out there.

And his attention kept returning-again and again-to the same anomaly.

Astron Natusalune.

Lucas’s expression didn’t shift. He nodded once at his teammates, calm and composed. “Good work.”

“Hey, that’s practically praise coming from you,” Tarin grinned, nudging Ryn in

the ribs.

Lucas didn’t respond. Instead, he tapped a command onto his wrist glyph, pulling up the operation console. A faint pulse of green lit the extraction rune embedded in the stone floor beneath them.

“Dungeon operation complete,” he announced. “Extraction in thirty seconds.”

The team relaxed slightly, the charged atmosphere easing now that the mission had been cleared. Eliane already began reviewing her spell logs. Carl remained

a silent wall beside Lucas. Tarin leaned back and cracked his neck with a sigh. Ryn checked his mana reserves and nodded with quiet satisfaction.

And Lucas?

He just stared ahead at the closing dungeon walls, his thoughts already

elsewhere.

The simulation faded around them-stone giving way to light, blood and ash replaced by polished floor tiles as the extraction runes engaged.

In the seconds before they were fully transported, Lucas closed his eyes

briefly.

The threads are still unraveling.

And someone is still pulling them.

He opened his eyes again just as the world flickered into white.

Time to move forward.