Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 948 217.2 - Trails of the past

A pale crescent moon hung over Arcadia like a silent observer, veiled by drifting clouds that moved slowly across the night sky. The towering spires of the world's most renowned academy loomed in the distance-still, silent, and brimming with secrets. Inside a secluded chamber of a rented manor, the soft rustling of parchment filled the dimly lit room. A single candle burned low on a desk scattered with files, photographs, and mana-inscribed scrolls. Leonard sat with his back straight, robes slightly disheveled, his fingers curled around the silver artifact that hung from his neck-the crescent moon softly pulsing, resonating, whispering that the one he sought was near. But near was not enough.

He narrowed his golden eyes on the documents laid before him. Portraits of promising students stared back-young faces filled with ambition, arrogance, or quiet determination.

He exhaled slowly.

"Too many variables. Too many shadows," he murmured.

The Hartley boy was the first he'd investigated. Ethan Hartley. Exceptional skill, natural charisma, a righteous streak that could light a battlefield aflame. But the bloodline was ordinary-traceable, untangled. His essence lacked the lunar resonance. Pure, yes, but not of the moon.

Next came the Middletons. A powerful family with influence spanning multiple provinces, but despite their aura of dignity, there was nothing celestial about them. Leonard had spoken with professors, inspected lineage registries, even traced ancestral graves. Every path ended in mundane soil.

The Arkwrights had intrigued him briefly-Noble lineage, old magic in their veins. There was something ancient in their blood, yes, but not the right kind. Their mana was grounded, earthen. Heavy with tradition, but not touched by the moon.

And then there were the Philips. Scattered over several fields of study. Yet even the most promising among them lacked the spiritual echo he had come to recognize in the Kin.

He leaned back in his chair, hand passing over the artifact. Even now, it pulsed faintly -telling him the truth he couldn't ignore.

The Kin of the Moon was here.

Somewhere inside the walls of that hallowed institution. Watching. Breathing. Hiding.

And the Academy itself... was protecting them.