Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 749 - 171.2 - Catching Up

"Astron." 
Sylvie's voice broke through the quiet hallway, steady but with a slight tremor that betrayed her nerves. She saw him pause mid-step, his head tilting slightly as he turned to face her. His calm, gray eyes met hers, and for a moment, the air between them seemed to still. 
"Sylvie," he said evenly, his tone soft but carrying its usual weight. He acknowledged her with a simple nod, his gaze steady yet somehow different—sharper, more defined. Or was it something else entirely? 
Sylvie's breath hitched as she took in his features. She had noticed them before in passing—the faint change in his posture, the subtle confidence in his demeanor—but now, standing directly before him, the difference was undeniable. There was something new about him, a quiet intensity that bordered on… charm? The line of his jaw seemed more pronounced, his expression more refined, his presence more commanding. It wasn't just physical—there was an aura about him, something she couldn't quite put into words. 
For a fleeting moment, she felt herself falter. Her lips parted slightly, but the words didn't come. She quickly shook herself, forcing her thoughts back into focus. This wasn't the time to lose her composure. 
"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice firmer now, though her pulse still raced beneath her calm exterior. 
Astron studied her for a second, his gaze unwavering but not unkind. "To the cafeteria," he said at last, his tone as steady as ever. 
"The cafeteria?" Sylvie echoed, her mind racing. Her nerves flared, but she pushed through, unwilling to let the moment pass. "Then… may I come with you?" 
Astron raised an eyebrow slightly, the faintest hint of curiosity flickering in his expression. "Are you hungry?" 
"I am," Sylvie replied quickly, then added, "I didn't have a good breakfast." It was a lie, but one she didn't feel the need to justify. She met his gaze, willing herself to appear composed even as her heart thudded in her chest. 
For a moment, Astron simply looked at her, his expression unreadable. Then, with a small nod, he turned and gestured down the hallway. "All right. Let's go." 
Sylvie fell into step beside him, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly in the otherwise empty corridor. Her grip on her bag tightened as she tried to steady herself, the faint hum of her [Authority] at the edge of her awareness. She could sense his calm, measured emotions—quiet and steady like a still lake. It was grounding in its own way, even if it made her feel a little self-conscious. 
As they walked side by side, Sylvie found herself glancing at Astron now and then, the silence between them stretching out. It wasn't uncomfortable—at least not for him. His steady, unhurried pace and calm expression made it clear he was perfectly fine with the quiet. But for Sylvie, the silence felt heavier with every passing second, pressing against her like an unseen weight. 
She knew Astron wasn't much of a talker. He never had been, not in the classroom or outside it. But now, with so much she wanted to ask him—about the academy, about Irina, about himself—the quiet felt stifling. 
Her grip on her bag strap tightened as she tried to think of something to say, something casual that wouldn't feel too intrusive. Finally, she took a deep breath and forced herself to break the silence. 
"What do you think about the recent changes at the academy?" she asked, her voice light but steady. "It's been a lot, hasn't it?" 
Astron glanced at her, his purple eyes calm and unreadable, before returning his gaze to the path ahead. "It has," he said simply, his tone thoughtful. 
Encouraged by his response, Sylvie pressed on. "I mean, with the new curriculum, the increased security, and all the changes to the tournament schedule, it feels like everything's shifting all at once." 
Astron nodded slightly, his gaze distant as he considered her words. "The academy's adapting," he said after a moment. "They're preparing for something it appears." 
"Something?" Sylvie asked, tilting her head curiously. "What is it?" 
Astron shrugged, his expression as calm as ever. "That's something we'll find out sooner or later," he said. "At the end of the day, we're the ones being trained for it." 
Sylvie nodded slowly, his words settling heavily in her mind. She didn't press further, sensing that he wouldn't elaborate even if he knew more. Astron wasn't one to speak unnecessarily, and she had come to respect that about him, even if it left her with more questions than answers. 
As they continued walking, the weight of his statement lingered between them. Sylvie's thoughts drifted to her training over the break, the headmaster's grave expression as he explained the shifting tides of their world. He hadn't been explicit—Jonathan rarely was—but the undertones of urgency in his voice were impossible to miss. 
"Sylvie, the world is not as stable as it seems. Changes are coming—greater than what you've seen, greater than what you can imagine. You must be ready to face them, to rise above them. That is why I've pushed you so hard." 
Those words had stayed with her, resonating alongside the newfound power of her [Authority]. She had felt it in every fiber of her being during those grueling sessions, in the way her connection to the ancient force she wielded had grown sharper, more defined. The world was changing, and she was changing with it—whether she wanted to or not. 
Now, walking beside Astron, she couldn't help but feel a faint echo of that same urgency. He carried himself differently now, his presence more commanding, more purposeful. Whatever had happened to him over the break, it had shaped him just as her training had shaped her. And yet, he seemed so calm, so steady in the face of it all. 
Sylvie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "You don't seem worried," she said softly, half to herself. 
Astron's gaze flicked toward her briefly before returning to the path ahead. "Worrying doesn't change anything," he replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "It's better to prepare." 
His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made Sylvie's chest tighten. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't make the uncertainty any less daunting. 
The cafeteria doors came into view, the faint hum of conversation spilling out as they approached. Sylvie let out a quiet breath, the heaviness of the conversation giving way to a lighter, more immediate focus. 
The cafeteria doors swung open, and Sylvie and Astron stepped inside. The room was alive with the buzz of conversation and laughter, a patchwork of voices blending together in a lively hum. Long tables filled with students stretched across the space, groups clustered together by years or classes, exchanging notes, gossip, or simply unwinding after the day's lessons. 
Sylvie's eyes swept across the bustling room. Despite the vibrancy of the scene, she could see the divide among the students. While many were here enjoying the standard cafeteria fare, a significant portion of their peers preferred the high-end restaurants scattered throughout the Academy grounds. Those with family money or status often avoided this communal space altogether, leaving behind a mix of students from various backgrounds—those who valued practicality, camaraderie, or simply didn't care for the Academy's classist divide. 
As she and Astron joined the queue, Sylvie felt a momentary sense of ease. The cafeteria's warm, noisy atmosphere was a comforting contrast to the heavy silence of their earlier conversation. But just as quickly, that ease dissolved as a strange hush began to ripple through the room. 
It started subtly—a few heads turning their way, whispers spreading like wildfire. Then, it grew louder, or rather quieter, until the familiar hum of the cafeteria was replaced by a growing silence. Sylvie stiffened, her [Authority] flickering at the edge of her awareness. She didn't even need it to sense the shift; the weight of all those gazes was unmistakable. 
She turned her head slightly, scanning the room. Dozens of students were looking in their direction—not at her, but at him. Their stares ranged from curiosity to suspicion, from admiration to unease. Some whispered among themselves, their voices too low to make out but their intent painfully clear. 
'Again…' Sylvie thought, her chest tightening as she caught the faintest threads of emotions emanating from the crowd. Curiosity was the strongest—an electric buzz of interest that seemed to ripple through the air. But there was more, deeper beneath the surface. Resentment. Wariness. Awe. 
Astron, as always, remained unfazed. His expression didn't change, his pace didn't falter. If he noticed the stares—and he had to, given how intense they were—he didn't show it. He simply stood in the queue, waiting for his turn with the same calm demeanor he always carried. 
Sylvie, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel the weight of it. Her [Authority] made it impossible not to notice the subtle currents of emotion swirling around them, each one tugging at her like faint echoes in the back of her mind. 
Jealousy, from a group of upperclassmen near the corner, their sharp glances betraying their frustration at his sudden rise. 
Admiration, from a few younger students, their gazes wide-eyed as they whispered among themselves. 
Unease, from a cluster of older girls who glanced at Astron with narrowed eyes, as though his presence alone disrupted the natural order of things. 
And then there was envy, faint but pervasive, coloring the air around them like a shadow that wouldn't fade. 
Sylvie glanced at Astron again, marveling at how unaffected he seemed by it all. 
Does he really not care? she wondered, though she already knew the answer. This wasn't the first time she had seen people react to him this way, and it wouldn't be the last. His calm, enigmatic nature had always set him apart, but now, with his refined demeanor and newfound presence, it seemed impossible for anyone to ignore him. 
"You must not be swayed by other people," Astron said suddenly, his calm voice cutting through Sylvie's turbulent thoughts like a steady breeze through a storm. 
Sylvie blinked, startled by the unexpected words. She raised her head to look at him, her emerald eyes searching his face. His gaze was still fixed ahead, his expression unchanging, yet there was something in his tone—something resolute and unwavering. 
"No matter how strong you get in terms of power," he continued, his voice low but firm, "if you keep being swayed by other people, you will always be in shackles, regardless of how strong you are." 
Sylvie felt her breath hitch at the weight of his words. She opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, but no immediate response came. Instead, her mind raced, his statement echoing in her thoughts like a distant thunderclap. 
"...T-that…" she finally stammered, her cheeks warming slightly. She gripped the strap of her bag tighter, her gaze dropping for a moment before she forced herself to meet his eyes again. "That's… easier said than done." 
Astron turned his head slightly toward her, his calm purple eyes meeting hers. There was no judgment in his expression, only a quiet understanding. "It is," he agreed. "But it's necessary. If you spend your energy worrying about how others see you, you'll lose sight of what matters." n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om