Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 947 217.1 - Trails of the past

<Arcadia Hunter Academy - Southern Training Courtyard>

The sun hung high over the sprawling courtyard, casting long shadows beneath the watchful gaze of the academy's towering spires. The training grounds buzzed with the voices of cadets, the clash of wooden weapons, and the crackle of controlled magic. Among the chaos stood a woman in a sleek black coat, her posture relaxed but authoritative, eyes sharp as they swept over the gathered cadets.

Selene Kaclith was a name many cadets had begun to whisper in both awe and uncertainty. She had only arrived a few days prior, but her reputation was already solidifying. Calm, poised, and exacting, she carried herself with the confidence of someone who had seen far too much of the world-and walked away from it stronger. "Form ranks," she said calmly, but her voice cut cleanly through the noise. The cadets obeyed without question.

Most of the students standing before her were second-year sophomores-those with some experience, whose egos had been tempered by failure and whose instincts had begun to sharpen. But sprinkled among them were eager freshmen, their eyes wide with curiosity, uncertainty, and in some cases, blind admiration.

Selene walked along the line of cadets, hands folded behind her back. Her cold violet eyes-an unusual trait attributed to some distant bloodline-moved from face to face with analytical precision. Some students stood taller beneath her gaze. Others shrank slightly, as if her mere presence invoked pressure.

"Good," Selene Kaelith said, her voice even and cold. "Now that you've finally learned how to stand in straight lines, let's move on to something with actual value."

She raised her hand, and with a flick of her fingers, the world around her shimmered. A moment later, a phantom version of herself stepped away from her side-identical in every detail. The cadets instinctively straightened, eyes widening as the illusion moved with perfect fluidity, mirroring Selene's breath and subtle motions.

"I am not here to teach you brute force," she said. "You will find plenty of other mentors willing to scream at you about posture and fireball angles. I specialize in something different."

The illusion circled the group, weaving between cadets before dispersing into a cloud of petals.

"I teach misdirection. Manipulation. Control. The art of illusion is not about tricking the eye-" she tapped her temple with a single black-gloved finger, "-it's about controlling perception. Your enemy cannot counter what they cannot see, or worse... what they misunderstand."

Murmurs swept through the group. Some cadets looked excited. Others skeptical.

"Today, we begin with projection. You will form teams of two. One of you will be the caster. The other will be the target. The goal is simple-create an illusion convincing enough that your partner acts on it, instinctively. No verbal communication. No obvious cues. Just magic."

She paused to let the instruction settle, then narrowed her eyes as she surveyed the forming pairs. Most cadets hesitated, choosing friends or familiar faces. She expected that. Predictability always reigned at the start.