Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 1047

Leonard's boots met the floor with quiet precision, but his stride hitched—barely.

The sensation gripped him not like a blow, but like a hand brushing the nape of his neck. A chill. A ripple. Something he hadn't felt in years.

His breath snagged in his throat.

A tremor—not in the air, but in him.

For a split second, everything in the room dimmed. Not visually. Not magically. But perceptually. As if the balance of things tilted… just a fraction.

He stopped walking.

Not visibly.

Just inside.

A moment's hesitation buried under perfect posture.

Then—gone.

Whatever it was, it vanished like breath on cold glass.

And just as quickly, Leonard's balance returned. His weight settled. His pulse leveled. The strange sensation unwound and left nothing behind.

No threat.

No signature.

No resonance.

Just silence.

He didn't move. Didn't let it show.

But his thoughts sharpened to a razor.

What was that?

It wasn't the artifact. It hadn't stirred. It hadn't responded.

But something had passed through him. Briefly. Unseen.

And in his experience… things like that didn't just happen.

Before he could dwell, Sylvie rose slightly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

"Brother," she said, offering a small motion to the seat beside her. "Come on. You're not just here to stand there and stare at us."

Her tone was easy. Familiar. Comforting in a way he didn't realize he needed.

Leonard blinked once, resetting the tension in his shoulders, then gave her a faint smile.

"Of course," he said, stepping forward and easing into the seat.

The warmth of the table's mana array buzzed faintly beneath his fingertips.

Jasmine grinned across from him, eyes glinting. "So this is the mysterious brother."

Layla leaned slightly across the table, chin resting on her hand as she gave Leonard a slow, thoughtful once-over. Her eyes narrowed—not with suspicion, but appraisal.

"Huh," she said aloud. "Kind of handsome."

Jasmine grinned instantly. "Right? Sharp jawline. Quiet presence. Definitely related to Sylvie."

Irina didn't say anything, but her brow lifted just a fraction—as if conceding a point she wasn't going to voice.

Sylvie blinked. "Excuse me?"

Jasmine shrugged with faux innocence. "What? You're beautiful. It's natural your brother's got the same gene pack."

Layla nodded in agreement. "Silver hair, intense eyes, that brooding 'I-know-something-you-don't' energy… it runs in the family."

Sylvie's mouth opened, but no words came out. A light pink rose to her cheeks before she quickly looked away, trying to hide it behind her glass of water.

Leonard gave the faintest of smirks—just a flicker, just enough for Sylvie to notice.

"Oh no," she muttered under her breath. "Don't you dare start enjoying this."

"Enjoying what?" Leonard asked, voice perfectly composed.

Layla leaned over to Jasmine. "Definitely enjoying it."

Jasmine whispered back, "Ten out of ten, no question."

Then the waiter will enter and they will order their meals.

ChatGPT said:

For a moment, Leonard simply watched.

The light at the edge of the table caught Jasmine's grin, Layla's half-laugh, Irina's subtly arched brow. Sylvie still flushed, muttering something into her glass like it could shield her from reality. Across from her, Astron hadn't moved an inch—but his eyes tracked everything. Quietly. Intelligently.

And Leonard… let out a sound he hadn't made in a long time.

A short laugh.

Low. Brief. Controlled.

But genuine.

It left his chest lighter than he expected.

"This table," he said, settling into the chair beside Sylvie, "might be the most dangerous thing I've seen since I arrived."

Jasmine winked. "We try our best."

"I'm terrified," Leonard deadpanned, setting his coat gently over the back of his chair.

It was strange—how easily the space folded him in. He hadn't relaxed in months. Hadn't allowed himself to. But now, surrounded by warmth and teasing and light tension that meant living, not fighting…

He remembered something.

This was what it felt like to be young.

Before vows and veils and responsibility.

Leonard's gaze flicked toward her for half a second longer than necessary.

There was something different about her.

The others had leaned in with curiosity, with ease, with the kind of warmth born of shared exhaustion and laughter. But Irina's posture remained unshaken. Upright. Alert. Her expression was polite, even friendly—but behind those red-gold eyes was something else.

Calculation.

She wasn't studying him the way a cadet might study a scout.

She was studying him the way one tactician sizes up another.

Cautiously. Deliberately.

Leonard knew that look. He'd worn it himself.

An Emberheart, through and through.

She didn't trust easy—not even across a dinner table.

And she wouldn't just let her team's healer sit beside a man like him without measuring the threat.

Leonard gave her the faintest of nods.

Not of acknowledgment.

Of understanding.

She didn't react. But her gaze eased, just slightly.

Mutual respect. Not camaraderie. Not yet.

But the foundation of something close enough.

Then—

Layla tapped the table again, shattering the tension like a dropped fork in a quiet hall. "So we're on your list or not?"

Sylvie groaned, dragging a hand over her face. "Layla, please."

"What?" Layla grinned. "It's not every day we get a scout's honest attention. Might as well shoot our shot."

Leonard leaned back in his seat slightly, his expression composed but calm. His gaze drifted across the group—not invasive, not cold. Just… reading.

"You're all capable," he said eventually. "Consistent. Adaptive. You function like a team, not a set of individuals. And that alone puts you above most formations I've seen in this cycle."

Jasmine raised an eyebrow. "Is that a yes?"

Leonard tilted his head ever so slightly. "That's an answer."

Layla let out a mock sigh. "Diplomatic. Just like Sylvie."

Sylvie rolled her eyes. "He's worse."

Leonard gave a quiet, unreadable smile. "I take that as a compliment."