Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 789 Chapter 182.5 - Let's have a talk

Chapter 789  Chapter 182.5 - Let's have a talk

"Do whatever you like with them. I have no intention of 'becoming someone's people.'" 
The statement landed like a crack of thunder, the finality in my voice cutting through the chill in the air. Seraphina's smirk evaporated entirely, replaced by a sharp narrowing of her eyes. Her fingers stilled against the table, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. 
Then, the frost returned. 
The air grew colder, sharper, biting at the edges of my senses. The faint shimmer of frost that had lingered on the table earlier now spread outward, creeping toward me like icy tendrils. Seraphina's aura surged, suffusing the space with an oppressive chill that carried the unmistakable weight of her intent. 
"You're bold," she said, her voice low, dangerous, each word cutting through the cold like shards of ice. "But don't mistake boldness for invincibility, Astron." 
Her frosty aura grew heavier, the temperature in the room plummeting further as a thin layer of frost began to form along the edge of the table. The sharp bite of her mana pressed against me, seeking to unsettle, to force a reaction. 
I met her gaze without flinching, my expression calm as the frost licked at my skin. The air burned with cold, each breath a sharp reminder of the pressure she was exerting. But I held firm, letting her aura wash over me without yielding an inch. 
The time I had spent training over the break… It hadn't been in vain. 
The memory of those days to surface briefly—the grueling hours spent honing my mana control, the countless drills in hostile environments, the deliberate effort to push my limits, to strengthen my resistance against forces like this. The weight of her frost was formidable, but it wasn't unfamiliar. It was something I'd prepared for. 
I held her gaze, letting the frost bite at my skin, then finally, I broke the silence, my voice cutting through the cold like a blade. "If this is how you search for people to 'be your own,' then you're not looking for a person." 
Her silver eyes narrowed further, the frost intensifying slightly, a response to my defiance. 
"You're looking for a slave," I continued, my tone calm but deliberate. "And if that's the case, then you should know—those types of acts were abandoned long ago. Or have you not realized that yet?" 
The frost stilled for a fraction of a second, as though my words had struck a nerve. Seraphina's smirk returned, sharper this time, though there was a flicker of something beneath it—annoyance, perhaps, or something closer to recognition. 
"You think you're clever," she said, her voice soft but cold, her fingers resuming their steady tap against the frosted table. "But words won't protect you, Astron." 
I leaned forward slightly, the frost crackling faintly beneath my hands as I placed them on the table, my purple eyes locking onto hers with unwavering focus. "I don't need words to protect me," I said evenly. "But if you think fear and intimidation are enough to make me bow, then you don't understand the world as well as you think you do." 
The air between us felt like a battlefield, the tension palpable, her frosty aura clashing with the quiet resolve in my presence. She leaned back slightly, her silver eyes gleaming as she studied me, her expression unreadable. 
"You're stubborn," she remarked finally, her voice carrying a faint trace of amusement despite the frost that lingered in the air. "But even the stubborn have limits." 
"Perhaps," I replied, my voice steady. "But those limits aren't where you think they are." 
For a moment, the room fell into silence once more, the frost lingering but no longer pressing as heavily against me. Seraphina's smirk remained, but her gaze carried a sharper edge now, as though she was recalibrating, rethinking her approach. 
"Interesting," she said at last, her tone soft but tinged with something colder. "You're more resilient than I expected." 
I stood slowly, letting the weight of the moment settle. My movements were deliberate, calm, as if the frost-drenched tension of the room meant nothing to me. Seraphina's silver eyes followed my every move, her smirk fading into something sharper, colder, her fingers stilling against the frosted table. 
As I turned to leave, tilting my head slightly, a sharp projectile sliced through the air with a hiss, narrowly grazing past my ear. The icy shard slammed into the wall behind me, shattering on impact and leaving a trail of frost in its wake. 
"I didn't say you could leave," Seraphina's voice rang out, low and dangerous. Her tone carried the chill of her frost but also the simmering heat of anger barely restrained. 
I paused, turning my head just enough to glance at her over my shoulder. My expression remained calm, unshaken by the display. "And I don't remember seeking anyone's permission." 
Her eyes burned now, a glint of rage flickering behind the icy composure she fought to maintain. The frost around her intensified, spreading further across the table, creeping toward the floor. The room felt colder than ever, her mana suffusing the space with a sharp, biting chill. 
"You think you can just walk away?" she said, her voice rising slightly, the frost in her tone unmistakable. "After everything I've said—everything I've offered—you dare to turn your back on me?" 
"Yes." 
Her expression faltered for the briefest moment, her anger warring with disbelief at my sheer audacity. Then the frost around her flared again, the temperature in the room plunging further as her frustration surged. 
"You're a fool," she hissed, her silver eyes narrowing. "Do you really think you can stand against me? Against the forces I control? I could crush you here and now." 
"But you didn't," I replied, my voice calm and unyielding, carrying an edge of certainty that cut through the frost like a blade. 
Seraphina's eyes narrowed further, her frost-laden aura flaring momentarily as if in response to my defiance. "And why do you think that is?" she asked, her tone sharp and biting, laced with dangerous intent. "Showing you good hospit-" 
"Because it's not cost-efficient." 
The words hung in the frozen air, quiet but heavy with implication. Her reaction was subtle—a slight twitch in her fingers, the faintest flicker of something in her silver eyes. She was too experienced to let her mask slip completely, but I could see the gears turning behind her sharp gaze. 
'If this were before,' I mused inwardly, my expression betraying nothing, 'perhaps it might have been worth the effort for her to crush me. But as of right now, it isn't.' 
I could read Seraphina like an open book—not because she was careless, but because I understood her type. People like her operated on logic, efficiency, and calculated outcomes. Every action had to serve a purpose, align with a broader strategy. Wasting resources, drawing unnecessary attention, or taking reckless risks? None of it fit within their framework. 
'And people who operate within a purely logical framework,' I thought, my gaze steady, 'always have the limitations of logic.' 
She leaned forward slightly, her fingers resuming their faint tapping against the frosted table. The sound was sharp, deliberate, a rhythm meant to project control. "Cost-efficient," she echoed, her tone laced with derision. "You think I'm sparing you because of some calculation?" 
"Aren't you?" 
Her smirk returned, sharper now, but there was a flicker of hesitation behind it. She wanted me to doubt my own reasoning, but I knew better. I could see the unspoken truth in her actions, the precise control she maintained even in the midst of her anger. If crushing me were truly in her best interest, she wouldn't have hesitated. But the fact that I was still standing here, facing her without consequence, said everything. 
"You like to believe you're in control, Seraphina," I said, my tone steady, measured. "That every move you make is deliberate, calculated. But here's the thing about calculations—they're only as good as the data they're based on. And you? You're working with incomplete information." 
Her smirk faltered slightly, though her frosty demeanor remained intact. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice quieter now, tinged with an edge of curiosity she couldn't quite suppress. 
"It is." 
Seraphina's fingers stilled against the frosted table, her sharp silver eyes narrowing as she studied me. "What information do I lack, then?" she asked, her voice quieter now, tinged with both curiosity and irritation. 
I paused mid-step, turning back just enough to meet her gaze over my shoulder. 
"That," I said, my tone deliberate and unhurried, "is, once again, for you to find out." 
The words hung in the air, sharp and final, as I turned back and continued toward the door. This time, I didn't stop, didn't look back. The frost still lingered in the room, the chill brushing against my back as I stepped out, but I paid it no mind. 
The sound of her sharp tapping resumed faintly behind me, echoing against the cold silence I left in my wake. She wouldn't follow—this wasn't her way. Seraphina Frostborne didn't chase; she calculated. And now, she'd be left with the pieces of her own game to sort through. 
I stepped into the hallway, the air warmer, and lighter, a stark contrast to the cold tension I'd just left behind. 
I really felt like laughing. 
"This whole scenario," I couldn't help but mumble…. 
"Feels like a skit to me. A performance that you've written for an audience that doesn't exist. You are just underestimating Irina, Seraphina. And that's your mistake. And well, until you learn this, you will just flutter on your own."