Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 786 Chapter 182.2 - Let's have a talk

Chapter 786  Chapter 182.2 - Let's have a talk

"You mages surely love exerting your aura on others….." 
His gaze remained locked on her, his expression calm and unaffected. "With how things are in the academy," he said, his voice cutting through the cold like a blade, "are you confident that you will not face any repercussions if you do such a thing?" 
Seraphina's eyes narrowed, her frosty aura intensifying for a moment. She leaned closer, her silver eyes gleaming like ice under the sun. "Repercussions?" she repeated, her tone mocking. "You underestimate what I can get away with, Astron." 
"Perhaps," he replied, unfazed. "But even those with power know that the wrong move can cost them everything. Unless you're confident enough to bear that cost?" 
The words hung in the chilled air between them, and for a moment, the frost around Astron lingered, unmoving. Then, slowly, it began to recede. Seraphina sat back in her chair, her smirk returning but her eyes sharp with calculation. 
"Confident as ever, aren't you?" she said, her tone lighter now, though there was a dangerous edge beneath it. "I have to admit, you're not as dull as most." 
"I'll take that as a compliment," Astron replied, his voice steady. 
Seraphina leaned back slightly in her chair, her silver eyes narrowing as she observed Astron. A thought, sharp and undeniable, crept into her mind: 
'He has changed.' 
This wasn't the same Astron she had encountered during the first semester. While his calm demeanor and calculated words were familiar, the way he carried himself now was different—more assured, more unyielding. Back then, his strength had been significantly lower, and though he had tried to hide it behind a facade of confidence, she could see the cracks. 
When she had threatened him before, she remembered the flicker of resistance in his eyes, the way he seemed to consider standing against her. But ultimately, he had forcefully given up on the idea, bowing to the reality of the situation. 
'That was the logical thing to do,' she mused. 'If I were in his position, I would have done the same.' 
After all, clashing with her back then would have been nothing short of suicide. Everyone knew her lineage. She was a child of an archmage, one of the Frostborne, a family whose name carried weight not just in the academy but across the entire magical community. And she wasn't just coasting on her family's reputation—she was the former rank-one student, equal to Victor Langley in prowess. 
But now… 
'Now, he stands here as if he's seen mages like me before. As if he's dealt with them—and worse.' 
Her sharp mind turned over the details. The way he had stood motionless as her frosty aura encased him. The way his purple eyes hadn't wavered, even as the subtle intent behind her aura sought to inflict pain. 
It wasn't just defiance; it was experience. 
Accommodating a mage's aura wasn't something a normal hunter could do so easily. A mage's aura wasn't like the pressure of a brute hunter's raw strength. It was layered, complex, and suffused with intricate mana flows. When a mage released their aura, the effects weren't just overwhelming—they were designed to disorient, to penetrate, to hurt. 
And she had intended it. 
The subtle pain woven into her frosty aura wasn't accidental. It was a test—a small, deliberate sting meant to make him flinch, to remind him of the gulf between them. 
But Astron had stood there, unaffected. 
'He didn't just endure it. He took it as if it was nothing.' 
Her mind raced, analyzing the implications. A hunter accustomed to facing mages, one who could withstand their mana-infused presence, was rare. Hunters weren't trained to deal with the intricacies of mana manipulation. That kind of experience came from exposure—repeated encounters with mages of her caliber or higher. 
'This is no coincidence,' she thought. 'What has he been doing? Where has he been that he's changed this much?' 
In the span of a single semester break, Astron had transformed from a slightly above-average academy cadet to someone whose strength was now obscured—entirely beyond her sight. 
Seraphina's fingers lightly tapped the edge of the frosted table, her silver eyes narrowing in thought. 
'Not being able to see through his strength doesn't necessarily mean he's become overwhelmingly powerful,' she reasoned. 'It could mean something else entirely.' 
As a mage, she understood the intricacies of mana far better than most. While overwhelming strength could obscure someone's parameters, so too could specific abilities or artifacts designed to block perceptions like hers. 
'It's rare,' she thought, recalling the few instances she'd encountered. 'But it's not impossible.' 
Her mind drifted back to her initial encounter with him, before the semester break. Back then, her trait had worked perfectly. His strength was measurable, his potential visible, and his flaws laid bare for her to exploit. She could see the resistance in his eyes when she'd cornered him, the way his logical mind had forced him to submit despite his instincts. 
'He was just another cadet. Ambitious, perhaps, but ultimately predictable.' 
But now… 
Now, he was an enigma. An unknown. 
And Seraphina Frostborne despised unknowns. 
'It's like Schrodinger's Box,' she mused, recalling the theories of a revolutionary mage who had once shaken the foundations of magical society with his work on mana psions. Schrodinger had proposed that the strength of a psion, much like mana itself, existed in a dual state within a concealed entity until observed. The act of observing defined its state—until then, it was a mystery. 
'Without looking inside the box, I can't understand his strength. And I hate not understanding.' 
She leaned back in her chair, her silver hair spilling over her shoulders like a cascade of frost. The faint chill she'd exuded earlier had completely dissipated, replaced by the quiet intensity of her focus. 
Astron wasn't just hiding something—he was something. 
Whether it was newfound power, a rare artifact, or an ability specifically designed to counter her trait, she didn't know. But she intended to find out. 
Her gaze flicked back to him. He sat there, calm and composed, his sharp purple eyes betraying nothing. It was as if he had mastered the art of masking not just his strength but his very presence. 
'Where have you been, Astron Natusalune?' 
The thought gnawed at her. Whatever had happened during the semester break, it wasn't ordinary. A leap like this wasn't natural, not without external factors—training, encounters, or perhaps even a benefactor. 
She smirked to herself, her curiosity burning brighter. 
"You're an interesting one," she said suddenly, breaking the silence. 
Astron raised an eyebrow, his expression calm but questioning. "I'll take that as a compliment," he replied evenly. 
"It is," she said, her voice light but laced with intent. "But it's also a challenge. I dislike mysteries, Astron. And right now, you're the biggest one I've encountered in a while." 
"Is that why we're here?" he asked, his tone carrying a faint trace of amusement. 
Her smirk deepened. "Partly. Though I don't think you'll mind. After all, you're hiding something, aren't you?" 
He didn't flinch, didn't falter. His gaze remained steady on hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw the faintest trace of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. 
"I suppose that depends on what you think I'm hiding," he said. 
His words were careful, deliberate, and they only intrigued her more. 
'You're good,' she thought, her silver eyes gleaming. 'But everyone has a limit. Even you.' 
Seraphina leaned forward slightly, her presence sharp and commanding once again. "Well, Astron," she said, her tone casual but laced with challenge. "Let's see how long you can keep me out of your box." 
The game had officially begun. And Seraphina intended to win. 
Astron leaned back in his chair, a faint glimmer of amusement flickering in his otherwise calm expression. "It's true," he began, his tone steady, unhurried. "One cannot know what's inside the box without looking. Schrodinger's thought experiment makes that point quite clear." 
Seraphina raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden willingness to engage. 
"But then," Astron continued, his gaze steady on hers, "there's something often overlooked in the analogy. Schrodinger knew beforehand that there was a cat and poison inside the box. That was the premise." 
Seraphina's smirk faltered slightly, her eyes narrowing as she listened. 
"Now consider this: what about those who've never seen inside the box? Those who have no evidence of its contents beforehand? How can they affirm the possible conclusions with certainty? Without prior knowledge, wouldn't the same idea of the unknown also apply to their assumptions?" 
His voice remained calm, his words deliberate, as he continued, "Would you be able to confirm that your assumptions—your 'premise'—aren't things you've made up on your own?" 
The question lingered in the air, sharp and challenging. 
Seraphina's eyes flickered, her mind turning over his words like a puzzle. He wasn't just playing defense; he was countering her challenge with one of his own. 
'He's clever,' she thought, a mix of admiration and annoyance flickering through her. It wasn't often someone dared to turn her logic back on her, much less with such precision. 
Her smirk returned, though this time it was sharper, tinged with a hint of frustration. "Touché, Astron," she said smoothly, leaning back in her chair. "You make a fair point. But that doesn't change the fact that you are hiding something." 
"Am I really?" 
Seraphina tilted her head, her silver eyes gleaming. "Oh, you are. Whether it's strength, knowledge, or something else entirely… you can't convince me there's nothing inside your box. And eventually, I will find out what it is." 
"What makes you this sure?" 
"Heh….." Hearing Astron's calm question, Seraphina's smirk widened into a grin, her silver eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table, her fingers interlaced as if she had been waiting for this exact moment. 
"Because of this," she said smoothly, her voice dripping with triumph. 
From a small folder she had kept at her side, she pulled out a few glossy photographs and laid them on the frosted table between them. 
In those pictures, one could see. 
One young man and one young woman. 
And rather intimate.