Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 752 171.5 - Catching Up

"Was the training with the Headmaster helpful?" 
The words caught her so off-guard that her grip on the fork wavered, her breath hitching as her thoughts scrambled for an explanation. How could he possibly know? She hadn't told anyone—not Jasmine, not her classmates, no one. The Headmaster himself had suggested keeping the training discreet, yet here Astron was, speaking as if it were an open secret. 
Her emerald eyes widened briefly, betraying her surprise before she could school her expression. She lowered her gaze, carefully setting her fork down to regain some semblance of control. Her heart raced as she tried to steady herself, but the stillness at the table felt oppressive, magnified by Astron's calm, piercing gaze. 
He wasn't pressing her. He didn't need to. His silence was enough, a quiet challenge that made her chest tighten. He knows. How does he know? Her fingers curled against the edge of the table, her grip tightening as she fought to suppress her reaction, but even that felt like an admission of guilt. She was trying to act composed, but she had a sinking feeling that Astron had already seen too much. 
When she finally looked up, his gaze hadn't wavered. Those calm, purple eyes were fixed on her, steady and unwavering, as though they were dissecting her every movement. For a moment, Sylvie felt completely exposed, as if the careful layers she had built to protect herself had been stripped away with a single question. 
"I… I think so," she said at last, her voice soft, hesitant. The words felt flimsy even as she spoke them. "The Headmaster has been… encouraging." 
The second the word "encouraging" left her lips, she wanted to cringe. It sounded weak, vague—nothing like the intense reality of what she had endured during her training. Those sessions had been grueling, pushing her far beyond her limits. They had been transformative in ways she was still grappling with. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to say any of that aloud. 
Astron tilted his head slightly, his gaze unflinching. His calm expression betrayed nothing, yet there was something about his posture, the way his attention remained locked on her, that made Sylvie feel like he was unraveling her with his eyes. 
"You really… How did you know?" she finally asked, her voice softer now, edged with both curiosity and unease. She hated how vulnerable she sounded, how much the question revealed about her inner turmoil. But she couldn't help it—she needed to know. 
Astron leaned back slightly in his chair, his demeanor as composed as ever. "It was just a guess," he said, his tone calm, deliberate. "And it appears I was correct, thanks to your reaction." 
A flush of heat rushed to Sylvie's cheeks, her embarrassment blooming as her mind raced. A guess? The realization made her stomach twist. She had practically handed him confirmation, and now she felt even more exposed. She shifted in her seat, her hands dropping to her lap as she clasped them tightly together. 
Why does he always do this? she thought, biting the inside of her cheek. Why does he always make me feel like I'm under a microscope, even when I'm the one asking the questions? 
Her thoughts spiraled as she stabbed absently at her plate, her appetite fading beneath the weight of her unease. She replayed the exchange in her mind, each moment feeling like a quiet defeat. And yet, despite the frustration simmering in her chest, she couldn't deny the faint thread of admiration she felt. 
Astron's calm was infuriating, yes, but it was also undeniably impressive. The way he read her so easily, the way he seemed so in control of himself and his surroundings—it was unlike anyone else she had ever met. No matter how much he unsettled her, Sylvie couldn't help but wonder how he did it. And, though she hated to admit it, part of her wanted to understand him better. Because in his unshakable calm, there was a strength she couldn't help but envy. 
Sylvie's cheeks flushed a deeper red as the weight of Astron's words settled over her. Her hands darted to her lap, fingers fidgeting nervously as she struggled to process what he had just said. "Oh…" she murmured, her voice barely audible. "I… I didn't mean to—" 
He cut her off with a faint shake of his head, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Sylvie," he said, his voice low but firm, carrying the weight of quiet authority. "You need to be more careful. These types of scenarios are going to happen again—likely with people far less trustworthy than me." 
The words struck a chord within her, and she instinctively looked down, her embarrassment morphing into a quieter, deeper form of introspection. Her fingers curled tighter against the edge of the table, the soft hum of her [Authority] brushing against the calm wall of his presence. There was no malice in his tone, only a quiet truth that left her feeling exposed but strangely motivated. 
He let the silence linger just long enough before speaking again. "Control over your powers is important," he said, his tone softening slightly, "but control over your emotions is equally important. If you allow yourself to react too openly, people will read you, and they'll use that against you." 
Sylvie's shoulders stiffened at the gravity of his words. He wasn't wrong—he never was when it came to matters like this—but hearing it aloud, spelled out so clearly, made her feel like her vulnerability was laid bare. Her chest tightened with a mixture of frustration and resolve. He's right. I can't keep letting myself be this easy to read. 
Her fingers tightened around the table's edge again, but this time there was a shift in her posture, a faint but undeniable change. Her spine straightened, and when she finally lifted her gaze to meet his, her emerald eyes held a spark of quiet determination. "You're right," she said softly, her voice carrying a steadiness that hadn't been there before. "I'll… I'll work on it." 
Astron gave her a faint nod of acknowledgment, his expression still unreadable but tinged with the slightest hint of approval. "Good," he said simply. "Awakening your powers has already changed the way others perceive you. Your growth is rapid, and people will notice—friends and enemies alike. The more composed you are, the harder it will be for them to manipulate or predict you." 
Sylvie pressed her lips into a thin line, the weight of his words sinking deeper into her thoughts. She could feel the truth of them, not just in the abstract sense, but in the way people had already begun treating her differently. The Headmaster's training had pushed her into uncharted territory, forcing her to grow quickly and adapt. But it had also placed her under a sharper lens—one that others might use against her if she wasn't careful. 
"I understand," she said quietly, her voice tinged with resolve. "I'll do better." 
Astron studied her for a moment longer, as if measuring the sincerity of her response. Then, with a slight nod, he returned his focus to his meal. He didn't press her further, his calm demeanor unshaken, but the weight of his words lingered in the air between them. 
Sylvie returned her attention to her plate, her appetite now a distant thought as her mind churned with the implications of their conversation. Astron's insight, as always, was precise and unflinching, and while it stung to have her weaknesses laid bare, it also sparked something deeper—a drive to prove herself. To the Headmaster, to herself, and most importantly to this guy. 
Sylvie set her fork down, her fingers resting lightly on the edge of her tray as she steadied her nerves. Astron's calm composure had always felt like an impenetrable wall, but now that the conversation had shifted toward her training and growth, a spark of determination ignited in her chest. If he had noticed her changes so easily, she had every right to question his as well. 
She took a quiet breath, gathering her thoughts, before speaking. "Astron," she began, her voice soft but steady. His purple eyes flicked up to meet hers, calm and attentive as always, though she noticed a faint glint of curiosity in his gaze. 
"What kind of training did you go through over the break?" she asked, keeping her tone light but deliberate. "You've changed a lot too. Just like how you've observed my improvements, it's hard not to notice yours." 
For a moment, Astron didn't respond, his gaze fixed on her as though weighing the intent behind her question. Then, he leaned back slightly, setting his spoon down with a quiet clink. "You've noticed, huh?" he said, his tone even, though there was a faint hint of amusement in his words. 
Sylvie nodded, feeling a mix of relief and tension as he acknowledged her observation. "It's not just physical," she added quickly, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly. "You're stronger—not just in terms of power, but… presence. You carry yourself differently now." 
Astron's calm purple eyes held Sylvie's gaze for a moment longer before he spoke. "You've improved a lot," he said evenly, his voice carrying a faint hint of approval. 
Sylvie's lips curved into a small smile at his words. There was something gratifying about hearing that from him, given how much she had pushed herself during the break. But she wasn't about to let him shift the focus. Not now. 
"I'm glad you think so," she replied, her tone light but deliberate. "But you're not getting off that easily, Astron. I asked about your training. I'm not letting you dodge the question." 
Astron's lips quirked slightly, not quite a smile but close enough to make Sylvie blink in surprise. "You're persistent," he said softly, leaning back in his chair. His sharp gaze remained on her, steady and thoughtful. 
"I trained," he began simply, his voice low but carrying a quiet weight. "And it was… difficult. Gruesome, in some ways." 
Sylvie frowned slightly, her curiosity piqued but tinged with concern. "Gruesome?" 
Astron nodded, his expression calm but distant. "You wouldn't want to know the details," he said matter-of-factly. "Let's just say it wasn't the kind of training most people could endure." 
Sylvie's chest tightened at his words, the quiet certainty in his tone leaving no room for doubt. Knowing Astron, she didn't question him. He wasn't someone who exaggerated or sought attention. If he said it was gruesome, she believed him. 
Her gaze softened slightly as she studied him, the faint tension in her shoulders easing. Astron had always been someone who could endure pain and hardship without complaint, someone who carried his burdens with a quiet strength that set him apart. It was one of the things she admired most about him, even if it sometimes made him feel distant. 
"I believe you," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of sincerity. "You're the type who could handle that… even if you shouldn't have to." 
Astron tilted his head slightly at her words, his expression unreadable. "Pain is just another form of growth," he said simply. "You either endure it and become stronger, or you let it break you. There's no in-between." 
Sylvie felt her chest tighten again, her thoughts flickering to her own struggles during the break. The Headmaster's relentless training, the moments when she thought she couldn't push any further, only to find herself standing at the edge of a breakthrough. She understood what Astron meant, even if the way he said it felt almost too detached, too matter-of-fact. 
"I get that," she said quietly, her gaze dropping to her tray for a moment before she looked back at him. "But- " 
Her words were stopped by someone. 
"Junior." 
By a voice, to be exact. Nôv(el)B\\jnn