Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest - Chapter 1056 250.1 - Prophecy

The night had not quieted.

Even with Leonard gone—his footsteps vanished into the mist, his presence bled from the air like a broken incantation—something still clung to the edge of Astron’s senses.

They stood in silence for a beat longer. The group hadn’t yet broken formation, as if waiting for a cue that hadn’t come. The moonlight filtered soft and silver across the academy paths, catching the tips of leaves and the glint of mana wards embedded in the brickwork.

Eleanor White stood just a step ahead of them now, her back to the departing mist, her presence still pressing faintly outward in slow pulses.

Not hostile. Not violent.

But… unmistakably heavy.

Even Layla, usually the first to crack a joke, said nothing. Jasmine shifted once beside Irina, whose lips were set in a calm, contemplative line. Sylvie didn’t speak either—her gaze half-cast downward, as if trying to calculate the weight of what hadn’t been said.

Astron remained still.

But inwardly—

Something just happened.

His mana.

Not all of it.

Just one part.

The core of him that remained still even in heat, even in trial. The part that resonated not with attributes, but with rhythm. With memory.

His Lunar Mana.

It reacted.

Not flared. Not surged.

But responded.

Why?

Leonard hadn’t done anything overt. No bloodlust. No magic drawn with hostile intent—not in a way that could be sensed. But Astron had felt it.

A pull. A tremor. Like an invisible string had been plucked, resonating softly in the well of his being.

It had happened just as Leonard moved his mana—not when he cast the spell. That part had been simple to analyze. A structured offensive model, with lattice logic and displacement intent. Impressive, yes, but predictable.

But after…

That was different.

Astron could still feel it. A whisper in his blood, a kind of echo his [Lunar Mana] had never made before. A resonance not like a warning—but a call and answer. Like recognition. Like—

Like something else had seen it.

That had never happened.

Not even with Irina’s domain. Not even when he stood beneath the moonlight with the Moonstone embedded in his palm.

And now?

He had no answers.

Only the lingering awareness that for a brief moment—his mana had moved on its own.

Why?

His thoughts looped, not frantically, but methodically.

There was only one conclusion.

Whatever Leonard was—whatever his mana carried—it wasn’t ordinary.

And even more troubling…

Eleanor.

He could feel her pressure even now. Still focused. Still controlled. But layered in that terrifying stillness of a hunter who had decided not to strike, but hadn’t disarmed either.

Her mana was like a vice.

Tight. Cold. Silent.

But aimed.

She hadn’t looked at Astron more than once since appearing—but that meant nothing. That pressure had shielded him. Pressed into Leonard like a warning carved in stone.

She knew something.

Not everything. But something.

And she had acted fast enough to stop a man who had hidden his intent from everyone else at the table.

Astron didn’t speak. But his hand brushed briefly across the side of his coat. Near the chain of his hidden pendant.

The Moonstone was quiet.

But not cold.

It was warm.

Still.

Still reacting.

He exhaled softly.

No one else noticed.

But Astron did.

And his thoughts didn’t stop.

Leonard knew something he shouldn’t. Had moved mana in ways few could sense. Had prepared threads of observation too refined for coincidence.

No proof.

No confirmation.

But his instincts were screaming.

And his mana?

It had already chosen.

Astron turned his eyes slightly toward Eleanor. She was quiet still, listening now to Sylvie as the girl gave a careful explanation, voice low and even.

Astron said nothing.

But his thoughts turned cold.

‘Something about this is not right…’

Eleanor’s voice cut through the silence like a glass blade.

“Recklessness,” she said, her tone as level as ever, but lined now with something sharper—icier. “If this was the outer wards, I would’ve detained him on the spot. If any of you had responded with mana—instinctively, reflexively—you’d be in the infirmary. Or worse.”

Her eyes swept the group, but the weight of her judgment wasn’t evenly distributed. It lingered where Leonard had stood, even though he was long gone now. Her jaw was tight. Her shoulders held like iron—not braced for battle, but reining something in.

Irina offered a calm, respectful nod. “Understood, Professor. No excuses.”

Jasmine gave a sheepish “Yes, ma’am,” and Layla, unusually quiet, simply looked down.

But Astron…

Astron didn’t move. Not visibly.

Internally, though—he was burning.

Not with emotion.

With data. With reaction. With the cold, quiet fury of someone who had almost lost control.

Because that—that was what had truly shaken him.

He had almost lost it.

The mana had flared.

Not wildly. Not in a violent surge. But in a break. A split second of misalignment that could’ve unraveled everything. His control, his disguise, his rhythm—all of it nearly undone in the span of a breath.

All because something—something—in Leonard’s presence had touched his Lunar Mana. Not like a hand. Like a mirror. Like something unspoken had stared back at it across a divide and said, “I see you.”

It had forced a response.

And that alone was unacceptable.

His hand, still resting at his side, clenched slightly.

This can’t happen again.

That phrase looped through his mind like a mantra.

This cannot happen again.

Astron had trained for months under pressure.

He had faced Reina’s projection drills, Eleanor’s suppression fields, and the backlash of his own experimental weapon cores.

But none of those had made his mana slip.

This did.

And what’s worse—

He hadn’t sensed killing intent.

Not from Leonard. Not even in the moment before Eleanor had arrived.

There had been no signal. No pressure.

Only that tingling sensation—that ripple against the current.

Subtle. Almost beautiful in its symmetry.

But it had set off something deep. Something quiet.

Like a distant scream inside a locked chamber.

Even now, the Moonstone was warm. Not alerting him, not resonating wildly—but alive in a way it hadn’t been in months.

And Eleanor?

She still hadn’t looked at him directly.

But Astron knew her tells.

The way she had stepped forward—shoulders square, angle of defense precise, not wide enough to guard the whole group but just enough to cover him. The way she had entered with that particular rhythm of silence, the kind she used when she wanted to unnerve a threat.

And the way she had spoken—too cold. Even for her. Her words weren’t just punishment.

They were warning.

Not to them.

To Leonard.

She knows.

Maybe not the truth.

But enough.

Astron took a slow, silent breath through his nose.

It didn’t calm him.

But it centered him.

There would be no second chance. Not next time.

He would not be caught off guard again.

He would train. Harder. Deeper.

Beyond Void. Beyond Shadow. Even beyond the familiar edges of Lunar flow.

If his control had slipped even for a second—

If Eleanor hadn’t arrived at that precise moment—

Maybe he would have lost control there?

‘What would have happened then?’

The answer to that was something that he didn’t know.

And he didn’t like it.