Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 787 Chapter 182.3 - Let's have a talk

Chapter 787  Chapter 182.3 - Let's have a talk

I leaned forward slightly, my eyes drifting to the glossy photographs Seraphina had laid on the frosted table between us. The sheen of the prints reflected the dim light, but the images were clear enough. Irina and me, standing close in the Stellamare Museum, no disguises in place. Another showed her hugging me openly at the Etheria Haven spatial gate station. 
My gaze lingered on the photographs for a moment, my expression calm, as though I were admiring art rather than analyzing evidence meant to unsettle me. 
'Interesting,' I thought, noting the fine detail in the images. 'These weren't taken by a mana-infused artifact.' 
If they had been, I would've sensed the mana signature or residual traces. My senses were attuned enough to pick up even the faintest flickers, especially in a controlled environment like the museum. But these? They carried no mana interference, no hint of artifact involvement. 
'An analog device,' I deduced, my eyes narrowing slightly as I examined the photos further. While most people relied on mana-powered tools for such things, there were still those who preferred older, less detectable methods. It wasn't common, but it wasn't impossible either. 
I glanced at the picture from the museum, where Irina and I stood side by side, our expressions relaxed but alert. At the time, I'd noticed faint gazes—subtle, quiet observations. But they hadn't felt intrusive, nor had they given away their presence as anything more than curious onlookers. I'd assumed it was nothing. 
I was wrong. 
'The Matriarch must have noticed this too,' I thought. 'I believed she would block the media from publishing anything, but it seems she decided otherwise. I suppose that makes sense.' 
After all, Irina hadn't exactly been discreet when she'd openly embraced me at the Etheria Haven spatial gate station. That image was now here on the table as well, a bold display of familiarity between us. The fact that the photos were being used now suggested Seraphina had been waiting, biding her time until she had enough to use as leverage—or to make her move. 
'She was accumulating evidence,' I mused, keeping my expression neutral as I straightened slightly in my chair. 
"You seem remarkably calm for someone whose private moments are now on display," Seraphina remarked, her silver eyes gleaming with amusement as she studied my reaction—or lack thereof. 
I met her gaze, my voice steady. "If you've gone through the trouble of collecting these, then it's obvious you already have a purpose in mind for them. My reaction now is irrelevant." 
Her smirk deepened, her fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the table. "You're sharp, Astron. But even you must realize the implications. A close connection with Irina Emberheart? That's not something people will ignore." 
I glanced at the photographs again, then back at her. "And yet, you're the one showing me these. Not the media, not the academy council. Just you. That tells me you haven't made your move yet." 
Her smirk faltered for the briefest moment before she leaned back, her gaze sharpening. "Perhaps I'm giving you a chance to explain. Or perhaps I'm waiting to see how valuable your reaction is." 
"Or," I countered, my voice even, "you're gauging how much I know about your real intentions. After all, gathering evidence isn't your endgame. It's leverage. But leverage is useless if the other party doesn't care." 
Her eyes flickered, the gleam in them momentarily dimming as my words landed. But her smirk quickly returned, more dangerous this time. 
"Maybe," she said lightly, her tone casual but laced with intent. "But even you have limits, Astron. And everyone cares about something." 
I leaned back, letting her words hang in the air for a moment. 
She wasn't wrong. But she wasn't entirely right either. While the photographs were a complication, they weren't an end—they were a means. 
Seraphina leaned forward slightly, her silver eyes gleaming with calculated intent. Her smirk widened, her voice laced with mock concern. "I wonder… what would happen if these were known? Especially by Matriarch Emberheart." 
Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication. The way she spoke, the deliberate pacing of her sentence, made it clear she believed she'd struck a nerve. She thought she understood the situation—that Irina's actions were secret, hidden even from her own family, and that exposing them would create chaos. 
I studied her carefully, my expression calm. It was fascinating, watching her build her strategy, weaving threads of her perceived advantage. But as intricate as her web might have seemed to her, it was riddled with flaws. 
'From the way she acts, it's clear she's reached a conclusion: Irina and I are keeping this from the Matriarch,' I thought, letting my gaze drift back to the photographs. 'And in her mind, the Matriarch wouldn't approve of such a relationship. That's the common perception of Matriarch Emberheart from the outside—a strict, controlling figure who would never allow Irina to engage in something so… unconventional.' 
It made sense, of course, from Seraphina's standpoint. But the cracks in her reasoning were glaring. 
'First, she doesn't understand how real-world information works,' I mused. 'An informant doesn't serve just one master. They weave webs across multiple factions, feeding information selectively to maintain their relevance and value. The Matriarch's network would have already accounted for anything truly critical.' 
My gaze shifted back to Seraphina, who sat there, confident and composed, as if she held the entire situation in her hands. 'Secondly, she overestimates her own web of information. She might be a Frostborne heir, but she's still just an heir. Her reach is far from absolute.' 
I leaned back slightly, my expression unchanging, my tone measured. "That's an interesting assumption, Seraphina. But assumptions can be dangerous." 
Her smirk deepened, her fingers tapping lightly against the frosted table. "Is it an assumption?" she asked, her tone casual but pointed. "The Matriarch has a reputation, after all. Strict, calculating, a woman who values control above all else. Do you think she'd approve of her heir parading around with someone like you?" 
The condescension in her voice was deliberate, a sharp edge meant to provoke. But I didn't flinch. 
I allowed a faint pause, letting her words hang in the air as if they carried a weight I hadn't anticipated. My expression remained calm, but I tilted my head slightly, as though considering her point. 
"The Matriarch…" I began, my voice measured, "is indeed someone like that." 
I let the words slip out slowly, carefully, and then, intentionally, I added a faint crack to my voice, just enough to suggest hesitation. The kind of hesitation that might betray someone grappling with an inconvenient truth. 
"If she were to find out…" I trailed off, lowering my gaze slightly, as though weighed down by the implications. "The fate awaiting me… would undoubtedly be harsh." 
The moment the words left my mouth, Seraphina's silver eyes flickered, her sharp gaze locking onto me with renewed intensity. Her smirk widened slightly, satisfaction creeping into her expression. She leaned forward ever so slightly, sensing what she believed was a crack in my facade. 
'Indeed,' I mused inwardly, keeping my expression neutral, 'you are definitely better than Irina when it comes to observing people.' 
But observation alone wasn't enough. Seraphina might have sharp eyes, but she didn't know what to do with a misleading clue. And that would be her undoing. 
Her voice softened, almost conspiratorial, as she pressed further. "That's why," she began, her tone carrying a mix of triumph and feigned sympathy, "it's better to deal with these things quietly. After all, the Matriarch is not someone to cross lightly." 
She leaned back slightly, her fingers still tapping on the frosted table. "But I'm not unreasonable, Astron. I could help you… navigate this delicate situation. All it would take is a little cooperation." 
'Ah, there it is,' I thought, watching her carefully. She thought she had me. The momentary crack in my voice, the hesitance in my response—it had all been enough to embolden her, to convince her that I was vulnerable. That I would capitulate if she pushed just a little harder. 
"Cooperation," I echoed, my voice steady once more, as though I were turning the word over in my mind. I met her gaze, my purple eyes calm and contemplative. "And what exactly would that entail, Seraphina?" 
Her smirk deepened, and she leaned forward again, her silver hair catching the light like a cascade of frost. "It's simple," she said smoothly. 
Seraphina leaned closer, her silver eyes gleaming like polished ice as she locked her gaze with mine. Her smirk deepened, a faint glint of triumph flickering across her face as she spoke with deliberate precision. "It means exactly what it says," she began, her tone smooth, almost soothing, but laced with authority. "From now on, you'll be one of my people. Stay under my protection, and I'll ensure these photos never see the light of day." 
Her expression sharpened slightly, her smirk twisting into something closer to a grin. She truly believed she'd already won, that this was a matter of formality now—a sealing of the deal she assumed I had no choice but to accept. 
I met her gaze evenly. Inwardly, though, a quiet thought unfolded. 
'This is exactly why people like you fail, Seraphina. Those who think arrogantly, who assume they are untouchable, inevitably overreach. You might be clever, but your hubris blinds you. And in that, Irina has already surpassed you far more than you realize.' 
Her calculated confidence was almost impressive, but it was also her greatest weakness. She saw leverage as absolute, forgetting that power often shifted in the subtleties she ignored. 
I leaned back slightly, letting her words hang in the air as if giving them weight. My silence seemed to embolden her further—her smirk grew sharper, her fingers resuming their tapping against the table in a faint rhythm of victory. 
'That is why, in order to grow, you must understand. A leverage from your perspective might not be one from others.  
Then, I spoke, my voice calm, measured, and deliberate. 
"What if I refuse?"