Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Sylvie's boots made soft, rhythmic sounds against the polished stone path as she made her way across the academy grounds. The golden hues of the evening sun had faded into the pale silver of twilight, and the lamplights along the walkways flickered to life one by one, bathing the campus in a gentle, otherworldly glow.

She pulled her jacket tighter around herself as a cool breeze whispered past. Sunday evening… and she was heading toward the infirmary, not to rest, but to take yet another part of her examinations.

'The Healer practicals,' she reminded herself, exhaling softly.

Unlike the others who only had their theory and combat simulations, the Healer track students had an additional requirement—an applied practical test at the infirmary itself. Real patients, real injuries. No room for textbook-only knowledge. It made sense, of course. Healing wasn't something that could be learned solely from books. But still, the thought of it gnawed at her nerves.

Her fingers fiddled absently with the strap of her bag as she walked, her mind drifting back to the theory exams earlier that week—and the sour taste they left behind.

They hadn't gone well.

It wasn't that she hadn't studied. She had spent countless nights pouring over the textbooks, reviewing healing incantations, memorizing mana circulation diagrams. She had even practiced with Jasmine and Layla whenever she could.

And yet...

'They asked about topics we barely even touched on in lectures,' Sylvie thought with a grimace, her steps slowing slightly as she replayed the feeling of sitting in the cold examination hall, staring down at questions that seemed like they came from an entirely different course.

Advanced regenerative harmonics. Counteracting toxin mana residue. Deep vein mana stabilization techniques.

Of course, she had studied the basics of these topics. Everyone had. But the level of detail they wanted? The obscure case studies they expected them to cite?

'It was almost like they didn't want us to pass,' she thought bitterly.

Sylvie shook her head, forcing the thought away. No good dwelling on it now. What's done was done. All she could do now was focus on the practical—and ace it.

Just then, her steps grew steadier as she approached the infirmary doors, her hands relaxing slightly at her sides. The practical exam— that, at least, she could be confident about.

After all, her training hadn't been normal. Under Headmaster Jonathan's relentless instruction, she hadn't just learned to fight. She had learned to move with precision, to think faster, to weave her mana with far greater clarity. Combat was where the biggest changes were visible—but her healing had also advanced by leaps and bounds.

She could feel it even now, the way her [Enchantments] no longer wavered or sputtered, the way her mana threads slipped into injured tissues with subtle control instead of crude force. Her Restoration Glyphs, once prone to uneven output, were now clean, efficient, and, more importantly—stable.

'Healing is about belief,' Headmaster Jonathan had told her once, his voice low and unwavering. 'You must believe that you will succeed before your mana will obey you fully. Doubt is poison.'

Sylvie let out a slow, steady breath as she reminded herself of those words.

Yes. In terms of technique, she had improved. She knew she had.

But even as she reassured herself, her thoughts—unbidden, traitorous—drifted away from the exam ahead.

Toward Astron.

And Irina.

Her steps faltered for a heartbeat. She caught herself, tightening her grip on her bag again.

'Why am I thinking about this now?' she scolded herself silently, but the question was hollow.

Because the truth was simple: lately, no matter how hard she tried, she felt like she couldn't get closer to him at all.

Whenever she tried to talk to him, to catch a moment alone… Irina was there.

Not deliberately blocking her, not intentionally malicious—just... there. Always nearby. Always stepping in at the critical moments.

And Astron—he didn't seem to mind. If anything, he seemed almost comfortable around Irina now. Their interactions, once tinged with a strange tension, had shifted. They spoke easily. They understood each other's glances, their movements syncing naturally in sparring and strategy meetings.

Sylvie bit her lower lip as she pushed open the infirmary door, the scent of clean mana and herbal wards washing over her.

It wasn't that she hated Irina.

It wasn't even jealousy—at least, not entirely.

It was the slow, aching realization that the distance between her and Astron hadn't closed at all.

If anything… it had grown.

And that thought hurt far worse than she was willing to admit.

She tightened her hand into a small fist at her side.

'Focus. You have an exam to pass first,' she reminded herself, forcing her mind back to the task at hand.

****

The cool air of the infirmary pressed gently against Sylvie's skin as she sat quietly in the examination room, the faint hum of the mana wards a steady backdrop. The practical exam had been long, methodical—and surprisingly exhausting.

Yet she felt it in her core: she had done well.

Better than well.

Across from her, the supervising instructor—a tall man with silver-streaked hair and robes embroidered with the Academy's medical sigil—finished noting something on his tablet before lifting his gaze to meet hers. There was a rare softness in his sharp gray eyes, and then, to Sylvie's surprise, a small smile curved his lips.

"Well done, Sylvie Gracewind," he said, his voice warm but professional. "Truly well done."

Sylvie blinked, sitting a little straighter. "I—thank you," she said automatically, though the words felt small compared to the weight of his praise.

The instructor leaned back slightly, studying her with a thoughtful look. "When you first arrived here, you were too timid. Too cautious. Afraid to trust your own instincts."

He tapped the side of his tablet lightly, his smile deepening.

"But today? You took risks. Necessary ones. You didn't hesitate, you didn't second-guess—and more importantly, you didn't lose control."

He paused, nodding with clear approval. "That is the difference between a competent healer and a true one. You trusted yourself."

Sylvie's chest tightened with a strange warmth—a blend of pride and disbelief. She lowered her gaze for a moment, trying to steady the emotion rising within her.

Hearing those words… it felt real now. Tangible.

She wasn't just surviving anymore.

She was growing.

"Thank you, Instructor," she said again, her voice steadier this time.

The man chuckled lightly as he set his tablet aside. "You don't need to thank me. You earned it. Quite frankly…"

He glanced at the closed doors leading to the other treatment chambers.

"You've surpassed the others by a wide margin."

Sylvie's breath caught.

She had guessed it already.

Being the last student to perform had its advantages—and with her [First Lord's Authority] humming quietly at the edges of her senses, she had observed every healing session before hers. The fluctuations of mana, the rushed applications, the lack of stability under pressure—she had seen it all in excruciating detail.

The others were good, yes.

But none of them had been as fast, as stable, as precise as she had been.

Even without being told, Sylvie knew she had ranked first.

'Finally…' she thought, a quiet, trembling sense of triumph unfurling within her.

Finally, all those endless nights of training, the countless failures, the scars of doubt she carried—finally, it had all meant something.

She rose from her seat with quiet grace, bowing respectfully to the instructor.

"Thank you for the opportunity," she said simply.

He gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Keep walking this path, Sylvie. You're closer to mastery than you realize."

With those words still ringing in her ears, Sylvie stepped out of the examination room, the infirmary halls bathed in a soft golden light from the overhead mana-lamps.

Her bag slung over one shoulder, the cool evening air brushing her face as she left the building—

—for the first time in a long while, Sylvie Gracewind allowed herself a small, genuine smile.

"Ah…"

Just then she met with someone that she didn't expect….