Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest - Chapter 1044 247.2 - Brother

The observation chamber had fallen silent.

Not in awe.

In analysis.

Every scout, every mage, every contractor now sat motionless, screens dimmed to a low glow, their eyes not on data—but on memory. Replaying what they’d just seen.

Velvetin’s voice came first—quiet, but sharp with amusement.

“Well.”

A soft hum. “I suppose you were watching her this time.”

Leonard didn’t respond.

His gaze remained on the main feed, where the last echoes of golden glyphs still faded from the scorched platforms.

His fingers were loose at his side, but his grip on control was absolute.

Sylvie.

She hadn’t hesitated once.

Not even when the formation collapsed.

Not when her mana strained.

Not when she pushed beyond the standard support role she’d been buried in for months.

He felt it then—not as a scout, not as an observer.

As a brother.

A brief, quiet pulse of pride.

Small.

Contained.

But undeniable.

And yet—

He heard the murmurs now spreading across the rows.

“That archer…”

“He broke the tempo, didn’t he?”

“I didn’t even realize he was controlling the flow until the last five minutes.”

“Support class? No—tactical recon. Maybe a lieutenant archetype.”

Astron.

Leonard allowed his gaze to shift, just once, to the nameplate flickering beside the replay feed.

Natusalune, Astron.

Still nothing that suggested lunar heritage. No divine resonance. No prophecy-laced echoes.

But people were noticing.

He’d stepped into the rhythm, not over it.

And from there, directed the entire fight like a conductor behind the curtains.

Leonard breathed in slowly, his thoughts aligning.

He had failed to find the Kin.

Not because he’d misread signs.

But because, for now—

The signs simply weren’t there to read.

If the Kin of the Moon truly walked these halls, they remained buried. Suppressed. Unawakened.

Which meant the search would take longer.

And if that was the case—

Then there was no harm in honoring what came before the mission.

“I’ll speak with her,” he murmured, more to himself than to Velvetin.

“It’s about time.”

Velvetin turned slightly, one dark brow arching. “Hmm? Shifting targets already?”

He gave her a look—just sharp enough to warn, but not provoke.

“A promise.”

She smiled like that answer amused her more than anything else could have.

“Ah. The rarest kind of vow.”

Leonard rose.

The other scouts didn’t stop him—though a few cast long glances his way.

Solstice Dawn didn’t move without reason.

But he had one.

And it was simple.

He would meet his sister.

This time, not as a watcher.

Not as a ghost in the rafters.

But as her brother.

And while he was at it…

He might as well meet her teammates.

Especially him.

Astron Natusalune.

He was almost certain now—this was the boy Sylvie had mentioned before.

The one she wouldn’t name, but didn’t need to.

Exactly.

He had come to Arcadia with the singular goal of uncovering a celestial threat—the Kin of the Moon. And for weeks, that purpose had ruled every motion. Every spell. Every breath. He had filtered the world through that lens.

But that was only part of why he was here.

There were debts not yet paid.

Bonds not yet honored.

And a sister he had left behind, too many times, in silence.

Not because he didn’t care.

But because caring made him hesitate.

And in his world, hesitation could be fatal.

But now?

Now, she had grown into someone he hadn’t accounted for. Not just a cadet. Not a talent. Not even a rising name.

She was a presence.

And she had done it without his help.

Without his oversight.

‘Yep. Let’s move.’

Just as Leonard turned toward the threshold of the chamber, cloak falling back into place over his shoulder, Velvetin’s voice followed after him—silken and laced with mirth.

“Where are you going, Sunwatcher?” she asked, not quite loud enough for others to hear—just enough for him. “Off to play big brother?”

Leonard didn’t stop.

But she wasn’t done.

“If it’s Sylvie Gracewind you’re after,” she added, reclining slightly in her chair, “you may as well give up now. That girl hasn’t shown her face in a single scout-allowed wing since yesterday. Not in the lounges. Not in the cafeteria. Not even the post-trial recovery zones.”

A beat of silence passed.

Then she tilted her head, eyes glinting.

“Very well hidden. Too well, in fact. One might think someone’s teaching her how to avoid us.”

Leonard’s stride didn’t break.

But inwardly?

He smiled.

That would be the Emberheart influence, he thought. Of course.

Irina Emberheart wasn’t just talented—she was politically sharp, born to a world that taught her early how to maneuver the battlefield off the field as much as on it. If Sylvie was now under her wing, even in friendship, then of course she wouldn’t be allowed to wander into zones where scouts could pluck her away with promises and contracts.

He didn’t blame her.

In fact, he approved.

Still, Velvetin wasn’t entirely wrong.

He wouldn’t find Sylvie by wandering the public halls or hoping she showed up in one of the casual post-exam circles.

But he didn’t need to.

After all, he could just call his sister.

*****

The cooling dusk rolled in soft over the outer training grounds, dyeing the stone paths in hues of lavender and gold. Team Fourteen walked slowly, not with urgency or discipline—but with the weightless fatigue of victory and the quiet satisfaction that came after surviving something relentless.

“Finally,” Jasmine groaned, rolling her shoulders with an audible crack. “No more daily dungeon crawls. I was about to start dreaming in grid layouts.”

Layla grinned. “You mean you weren’t already? I’ve been seeing hitboxes when I blink.”

Irina scoffed lightly, adjusting the strap on her burnt cloak. “Honestly, it’s about time. Seven days, seven different constructs, variable conditions… they wanted to break us.”

“They didn’t, though,” Sylvie said softly, her voice tired but calm. “We adapted.”

Astron didn’t say anything. As always, he walked at the edge of the group, scanning their surroundings even when they were supposedly safe. But something about his posture was looser now. Less calculating. Just… present.

“We should get food,” Layla announced. “Like, real food. No nutrition cubes. No mana-gel packets. Something with flavor.”

“Seconded,” Jasmine said. “Irina, your pick. You won last night’s bet.”

“I did,” Irina said, flashing a rare smile. “But I’m not feeling picky. Something quiet. Somewhere with actual chairs.”

As they turned toward the outer ring path, Sylvie’s mana communicator buzzed faintly in her coat pocket.

She paused.

The name on the call sigil glowed clearly:

[Brother].

Layla leaned over immediately, eyes gleaming. “Ohoho… someone’s getting a call this late? Who is it?”

“Definitely not a sponsor,” Jasmine chimed in, waggling her eyebrows. “Unless they label themselves ‘Brother’ now. Bold move.”

Irina gave a subtle snort, not quite a laugh—but her smirk was audible in the way she said, “Tell him we’re busy glowing in post-victory glory. He can leave a message.”

Sylvie flushed slightly—not from embarrassment, but from the sudden warmth in her chest. She didn’t reply to them at first.

Instead, she glanced at the communicator, thumb hovering over the response glyph.

Then, softly—

“I’ll take this one.”

Astron’s gaze flicked to her—not sharp, not suspicious. Just… attentive.

And then he gave the slightest nod.

Sylvie stepped off the path, boots tapping softly over the stone as she made her way toward a quiet bend in the walkway where the light from the academy spires didn’t quite reach. The golden haze of sunset framed her back as she raised the communicator to her ear and activated the call.

A soft pulse of mana.

Then—

“Sylvie.”

Leonard’s voice. Low. Steady. Familiar.

She breathed in—steady.

“…Brother.”

———-A/N———–

I have an exam tomorrow, wish me luck.

The whole recent chapters that I had written yesterday were bugged on OneDrive because of an issue on the servers and my school’s registration.

And now I am writing them again….zzz….