Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 788 Chapter 182.4 - Let's have a talk

Chapter 788  Chapter 182.4 - Let's have a talk

Seraphina's smirk widened the moment Astron fell silent, the faint rhythm of her fingers tapping against the frosted table resuming with a steady beat of satisfaction. In her mind, the game was already over. 
'He knows he's cornered,' she thought, her silver eyes gleaming as she watched him. 'Smart as he is, even he must understand that there's no path forward for him without my help.' 
She studied him carefully, taking in his calm demeanor and the faint contemplative expression on his face. To anyone else, it might have seemed like he was weighing his options, calculating his next move. But Seraphina was certain that no amount of calculation would change the outcome. 
After all, no matter how strong Astron had become, no matter what mysterious abilities he had developed, he was still bound by the reality of their world. And in that reality, the Matriarch Emberheart's words were law. 
'He's smart enough to know this much,' Seraphina mused, her confidence unwavering. 'Defiance isn't an option. Not against the Matriarch. And if he's smart, which I know he is, he'll understand that aligning with me is his best chance.' 
The silence stretched between them, and Seraphina allowed it to linger, savoring the moment. Her silver eyes glinted with quiet triumph as she leaned back in her chair, exuding the poise and control of someone who believed they held all the cards. 
But then, Astron spoke. 
"What if I refuse?" 
For a moment, the tapping of her fingers stopped. Her smirk remained, but the faint flicker of surprise in her silver eyes betrayed her momentary disbelief. 
'Refuse?' The thought repeated in her mind, sharp and incredulous. 
Seraphina tilted her head slightly, her silver hair cascading like frost over her shoulder as she regarded him with a curious, almost condescending gaze. "Refuse?" she echoed, her tone soft but laced with danger. 
She leaned forward, the air around her growing colder, a faint shimmer of frost dancing along the edge of the table. Her silver eyes locked onto his, gleaming with the promise of retribution. 
"Let me make one thing clear, Astron," she began, her voice low, commanding, and tinged with frost. "This isn't a matter of preference. It's reality." 
Her smirk returned, sharper now, her confidence unshaken. "I'm offering you a way out. A way to protect yourself and whatever it is you're hiding. Refusal? That's not a smart move, is it?" 
Astron's calm, unyielding gaze didn't falter, and for the first time, Seraphina felt a faint twinge of unease. He wasn't reacting as she expected—no hesitation, no fear, no signs of the vulnerability she thought she'd exposed. 
Seraphina's smirk twitched, her silver eyes narrowing as she studied Astron's unflinching expression. For a fleeting moment, a thought crossed her mind, sharp and unsettling. 
'He doesn't care about himself.' 
It was a possibility she had encountered before—stories of men who held no regard for their own well-being but would move mountains for those they cared about. She had always found such people fascinating, their unwavering resolve both inspiring and dangerous. Dangerous because their strength wasn't rooted in their own survival but in the protection of others. 
'And that,' she mused, her smirk returning with a sharper edge, 'is the biggest weakness of all.' 
She leaned forward, her presence commanding as her silver hair shimmered faintly in the frost-laden air. Her voice softened, taking on a tone that was almost conspiratorial, as if she were sharing a well-guarded secret. 
"Ah, I see now," she murmured, her eyes gleaming with calculated intent. "You're not afraid because you don't care what happens to you, do you?" 
Astron's calm gaze didn't waver, but Seraphina caught the faintest flicker of something in his eyes. It wasn't fear or hesitation—it was an acknowledgment. He wasn't denying her observation, and that only emboldened her further. 
Her fingers resumed their rhythmic tapping on the frosted table as her smirk deepened. "But you see, Astron," she continued, her voice smooth, deliberate, "that's precisely why you're at a disadvantage here." 
She tilted her head slightly, her silver eyes locking onto his. "Because while you might not care what happens to you, I'm willing to bet that Irina does. And more importantly…" 
Seraphina paused, letting her words hang in the air like the weight of an unsheathed blade. 
"…you care what happens to her." 
The room seemed to grow colder as her words settled, the frost around them intensifying. She leaned back slightly, her smirk widening as she watched him. "You can withstand the consequences of defiance, can't you? But Irina? I wonder how much she'll be able to endure." 
Astron's expression remained calm, but Seraphina didn't miss the faint tightening of his jaw, the subtle shift in his posture. It was slight—barely perceptible—but it was enough to confirm her suspicions. 
'Got you,' she thought, the thrill of control surging through her. 
"Think about it," she said, her tone almost casual. "The Matriarch Emberheart is not someone to trifle with. If she finds out about these… moments between you and Irina, do you think she'll only punish you?" 
Her silver eyes gleamed, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "No, Astron. Irina will bear the brunt of it. Her reputation, her standing, her future—all of it will come crashing down. And it will be because of you." 
Seraphina leaned back in her chair, exuding the confidence of someone who believed she had sealed the deal. Her frost aura receded slightly, the chill in the air softening but still palpable. "So, Astron," she said smoothly, her smirk firmly in place, "what will it be? Will you protect her… or let her suffer the consequences of your pride?" 
She watched him carefully, certain that she had cornered him once again. After all, men like Astron, who cared more for others than themselves, always crumbled when the safety of their loved ones was at stake. 
But Astron's response would be far from what she expected. 
******** 
I shook my head slowly. Seraphina's words hung in the air, heavy with the confidence of someone who thought they'd cornered their opponent. But to me, the whole situation felt like a poorly executed skit, one where she believed she held the script, yet couldn't see the cracks in her own performance. 
'The Matriarch Emberheart is not someone to trifle with,' I echoed inwardly, suppressing the urge to laugh outright. 'If she finds out about these… moments between you and Irina, do you think she'll only punish you?' 
Her question wasn't just misguided—it was laughable. This wasn't the question that needed to be asked at all. The real question, the one that mattered, was something entirely different: 
How would Irina take it if the Matriarch knew? 
And the answer? Oh, I already knew that answer far too well. 
'She likes it,' I thought, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my lips as memories of Irina's antics resurfaced. I could practically hear her voice, bold and unflinching as she stood before the Matriarch in the Emberheart Mansion, her fiery determination blazing brighter than ever. 
The Matriarch, a figure so many viewed with fear and reverence, wasn't a wall Irina sought to climb over or avoid. No, Irina treated her like a battlefield to be won, an audience to dazzle. The thought of her fiery grin and the unapologetic confidence in her stance was enough to make Seraphina's current attempt at intimidation feel almost comical. 
'If Seraphina knew how Irina truly acted in front of her mother, she'd realize just how misplaced her threats are,' I mused, inwardly shaking my head. 
I straightened slightly in my chair, my gaze calm as I locked eyes with Seraphina. The frost in the air, her poised demeanor, her calculated words—they were all so… hollow. She didn't realize that her supposed weapon was nothing more than a dull blade. 
"You're asking the wrong questions," I said at last, my voice steady and faintly bemused. 
Her smirk faltered slightly, the rhythm of her tapping fingers pausing as she tilted her head. "Oh?" she said, her silver eyes narrowing. "Enlighten me, then. What are the right questions?" 
I allowed the silence to linger for a moment, as if weighing her challenge, though inwardly I was already reveling in the absurdity of it all. "The question isn't what the Matriarch would do if she found out," I said, my tone deliberate. "It's what Irina would do." 
Her smirk returned, though it lacked the earlier sharpness. "And what would she do, Astron?" she asked, her tone dripping with condescension. "Cry for you? Plead with the Matriarch for mercy?" 
I couldn't help it this time. A faint chuckle escaped me, quiet but unmistakable. "Cry for me?" I repeated, shaking my head. "No, Seraphina. She'd laugh." 
That caught her off guard. For the first time, Seraphina's expression flickered with genuine confusion, her silver eyes narrowing further as she tried to parse my words. "Laugh?" she echoed, her voice losing some of its edge. "What do you mean by that?" 
I held Seraphina's gaze, letting the faint confusion in her silver eyes linger as she processed my words. When her question finally came, sharp and demanding, I simply smiled—a calm, faint curve of my lips that betrayed nothing. 
"That," I said evenly, my tone unhurried, "is for you to find out." 
Leaning back in my chair, I settled into a relaxed posture, one that belied the tension in the room. "And as for those pictures," I continued, gesturing lightly toward the glossy prints on the table, "do whatever you like with them. I have no intention of 'becoming someone's people.'"