Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 779 Chapter 180.3 - Confontration, but girls

Chapter 779  Chapter 180.3 - Confontration, but girls

Sylvie's breath caught in her throat as the peculiar scene before her unfolded. She had come to check on Astron, her heart still racing from the brutal images in the video, but instead, she found herself standing frozen at the edge of something far more intense and incomprehensible. 
Irina and Senior Maya stood facing each other in the middle of the infirmary, their postures rigid, the air between them charged with an almost tangible tension. Neither seemed to notice Sylvie's presence, their focus locked entirely on each other. 
Sylvie hesitated, her [Authority] flaring instinctively, pulling her into the storm of emotions that swirled around the two women. What she saw made her chest tighten. 
Irina's Emotions 
They burned bright and raw, a kaleidoscope of vivid hues that seemed to reflect her fiery presence. 
Pride, sharp and unyielding, radiated like a crown atop her head. 
Jealousy, simmering and potent, surged through her aura, directed with unmistakable clarity. 
Love, deep and passionate, wove through the rest, grounding her emotions even amid the storm. 
And then there was ambition, a steely undercurrent that spoke of unrelenting determination. 
The combination was overwhelming, a firestorm of feelings so intense it left Sylvie breathless. But what struck her most was the clarity of it all—there was no hesitation in Irina's emotions, no doubt. Everything she felt, she felt with conviction. 
Then Sylvie's gaze shifted to Maya, and what she saw sent a shiver down her spine. 
Maya's emotions were far more complex, layered in a way that Sylvie had never encountered before. It was as if there were two entirely separate palettes within her aura, each painting a vastly different picture. 
The first palette was warm and familiar: 
Liking, a soft, fond glow. 
Fondness, tender and genuine. 
Desire, pulsing faintly but unmistakable. 
Anxiety, trembling at the edges, as though uncertain of its place. 
But then there was the second palette—darker, more primal, and far more unsettling: 
Anger, the deep, pulsating red of blood, surging in a rhythm that felt almost alive. 
Jealousy, a purple so heavy it seemed to weigh down the air around her. 
Love, bright and vivid, but threaded with something darker, something possessive. 
And beneath it all, obsession and madness, swirling together in a chaotic blend that made Sylvie's chest tighten further. 
The red was unlike anything she had seen before. It wasn't just anger—it was pulsating, alive, almost predatory. It felt like blood itself, seeping into everything, tainting the other emotions with its relentless rhythm. 
Sylvie staggered slightly, her grip tightening on the doorframe as she tried to process the overwhelming flood of emotions. This wasn't a simple confrontation—it was a clash of forces, each woman radiating such intensity that it felt as though the room itself might shatter under the weight. 
Sylvie's breath quickened as the scene in front of her grew heavier, more dangerous with every passing second. Irina's fiery intensity was one thing, but Maya's presence was entirely different—a storm of contradictions and instability that made Sylvie's chest tighten with unease. 
That pulsating red… it wasn't just anger. It was alive, predatory, and it felt wrong in a way that Sylvie couldn't fully articulate. It throbbed in time with something deeper, darker, as though it were connected to a rhythm that wasn't entirely human. And that wasn't the worst of it. 
Maya's second, darker palette struck at her first, like two forces locked in a battle for dominance. Sylvie could feel the instability radiating off her in waves, the clash between the two emotional palettes threatening to boil over. It was like standing on the edge of a volcano, the pressure building with no way to predict when or how it would erupt. 
'This isn't normal…' Sylvie thought, swallowing hard. The nauseating feeling that accompanied Maya's darker emotions was almost too much to bear, making her stomach churn as she tried to steady herself. 'What's happening to her?' 
She glanced briefly at Irina, whose sharp amber eyes hadn't left Maya. Irina's emotions were intense but stable, her resolve clear and unwavering. But Maya… Maya was a storm, and Sylvie had no idea what might happen if the darker palette consumed her entirely. 
'Should I tell the Headmaster?' The thought surfaced unbidden, and Sylvie's fingers clenched against the doorframe. Jonathan Arcwright would know what to do—he always did. But even as the idea took root, her gaze drifted to the far side of the room, where Astron stood. 
He was watching Maya, his sharp purple eyes locked onto her with a cold, calculating gaze. There was no warmth in his expression, no trace of the quiet empathy he often showed Sylvie. And yet, there was something else there—a knowing glint, subtle but unmistakable. 
Sylvie's chest tightened further. 'Does he know?' she wondered, her thoughts racing. 'Does he see what's happening to her? He has to, right?' 
Astron's composure never wavered, but Sylvie knew him well enough to recognize when he was assessing a situation. The way his gaze lingered on Maya, the slight tilt of his head—it was as though he was dissecting her every movement, every word. 
'If he knows, then why hasn't he said anything? Is he waiting for something? Or does he have a reason not to speak?' 
Her thoughts spiraled as she watched him, her trust in Astron warring with her own uncertainty. He wasn't someone who acted without purpose; every word, every decision he made carried weight. If he hadn't addressed Maya's instability yet, there had to be a reason. 
'If it's him, then…' Sylvie thought, her resolve hardening. She had seen Astron at his lowest, had watched him fight his way through struggles that would have broken most people. He had helped her when she needed it most, his quiet strength and guidance shaping her in ways she was only beginning to understand. 
She trusted him. 
More than that, she believed in him. 
'I should ask him first.' 
Though it may not be right now, she promised herself that she would ask him. 
And at the same time, she had also achieved the reason for coming here. 
He was safe. That much she could tell, 
Satisfied that he wasn't in immediate danger, Sylvie turned toward the door, her steps slow and deliberate. The tension in the room pressed against her back as she walked away, the storm of emotions between Maya and Irina still brewing, unresolved. 
As she reached the doorframe, a strange, unexpected feeling washed over her—a faint but unmistakable sense of regret. 
'What is this?' Sylvie wondered, her hand brushing against the doorframe as she paused. The feeling gnawed at her chest, sharp and insistent, but she couldn't quite put it into words. 
Regret. 
That's what it was. But why? What was she regretting? 
The answer came to her like a whisper, soft but undeniable. 'I'm not the one standing by his side.' 
The thought startled her, making her grip on the doorframe tighten. She didn't know where it had come from or why it hurt so much, but it was there, heavy and unshakable. She had been the one to notice him first, to see his strength even when no one else had. She had been the one who cared, who tried to help in whatever small ways she could. And yet now, she stood on the sidelines, watching as others—Irina, Maya—claimed the space beside him. 
'No. Stop it.' Sylvie clenched her jaw, forcing herself to bury the feeling deep within her. It wasn't fair to think like that. Astron had grown so much, had faced his own battles and emerged stronger for it. He didn't need her by his side. He didn't need anyone. That was who he was—calm, steady, and unshakable. 
And yet… 
Sylvie shook her head, cutting off the thought before it could take root. Now wasn't the time for this. There were more important things to focus on—like the dangerous instability she had sensed in Maya, or the clash of emotions between Maya and Irina that could spiral out of control at any moment. 
She straightened her posture, taking a steadying breath as she stepped fully into the hallway. The sterile scent of the infirmary faded as she walked, replaced by the familiar hum of the academy corridors. But the regret lingered, a quiet ache in her chest that refused to fade no matter how much she tried to ignore it. 
'I'll talk to him,' she promised herself again, her steps carrying her further away from the tension she had left behind. 'Not just about Maya, but… about everything.' 
And with that resolve, she buried the regret as best she could, focusing on the path ahead and the growing weight of the questions she still needed answers to. 
******* 
On the other hand, inside a dark room that was save for the pale glow of the monitor illuminating the room, a young man was sitting on a chair. 
He leaned forward in his chair, the tension in his body coiled like a spring. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of his desk as his purple eyes burned with an intensity that matched the hate-filled words scrawled across the photo behind him. 
The video played on his screen. The same scene Irina had just witnessed. But where her reaction had been one of worry and anger for Astron, Trevor's was different—a roiling storm of fury directed at the reactions flooding beneath the video. 
The comments were pouring in, each one stoking the fire in his chest. 
"That's brutal… someone should report those sophomores." 
"Astron's not even fighting back. Is he okay?" 
"Victor Langley is a piece of shit. This isn't the first time he's pulled something like this." 
"Why would anyone target Astron? He doesn't even bother anyone." 
SLAM! 
Trevor's fist slammed against the desk, the sharp crack reverberating through the room. 
"Useless bastards!"