Edit Chapter 1019

Hunter Academy Revenge Of The Weakest

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<h1>Chapter 1019 - 241.1 - You Are Not The Only One</h1>From his seat near the upper western arc of the observation chamber, Leonard Elric sat quietly—hands folded, eyes narrowed in calm focus.The insignia of Solstice Dawn gleamed faintly on his coat, understated but respected. His posture was relaxed, diplomatic even, blending seamlessly with the other seasoned scouts. He played his role well—curious, reserved, just another mid-tier recruiter seeking rising stars to polish and invest in.But beneath the polished mask, his mind worked in silence.Not for contracts.Not for fame.But for something far older. Far more dangerous.The Kin of the Moon is within these walls.Of that, he was now certain.His artifact—tucked beneath his tunic, masked by a mana-muffling weave—had resonated faintly the moment the practicals had begun. It wasn't strong, not yet. The wards surrounding the dungeon floors dulled everything. But it was enough to confirm proximity.Still, "proximity" was a word that meant little in a place as vast as Arcadia.Two thousand cadets.Six combat divisions.Three administrative blocks.And over forty-eight registered squads running rotations through the dungeon rings.He would need time. Precision.And he would need to watch.Not for dramatic flares of power—that was the fool's route. The Kin of the Moon wouldn't be broadcasting their presence with flashy spells and grand declarations. No… they would be quiet. Interwoven. Hiding within the weave of others.Like silver threads hidden in a tapestry of fire and stone.He leaned back in his seat, one hand ghosting across the interface rune built into the projection console. His slate shifted, pulling up isolated feeds from teams that had already passed through the early dungeons: Team Twelve, Team Seventeen, Team Twenty-Nine.Each one bore names with promise—powerful bloodlines, curious anomalies, or students who had demonstrated irregular combat patterns in previous terms.He had his filters.Mana types. Lunar sensitivity.Unregistered spells with resonance feedback.Cadets whose medical or family records were redacted beyond standard privacy norms.So far? Nothing.He observed a cadet from Team Seventeen—Rivas Moor, descendant of a forgotten archmage line. His fire techniques were refined, yes. But his mana bleed was too harsh, his resonance far too volatile.Not him.Team Twenty-Nine showed an interesting anomaly—a girl whose lightning output showed strange color shifts on saturation. But her signature was sharp, angular. Solar-aligned, possibly storm-touched. She lacked the layered harmony the moon often demanded.Not her either.Cadet after cadet. Team after team. Slowly crossed from his internal list.The process was meticulous by necessity. The artifact could only guide him so far within these walls. He needed behavior. Data. Subtle shifts in spellcraft that indicated spiritual convergence, not just strength.He paused briefly as his feed rotated again—Team Eight, engaging a deep-surface elemental trap.A cadet at the rear was weaving complex sigils—fluid, practiced. Their spell composition held notes of old-world discipline, possibly traced through one of the hidden academies in eastern Arcadia. Interesting… but no lunar trace. Their mana lines were rigid, not cyclical. Their resonance sharp, not layered.Leonard shook his head once, barely a motion."Not this one either."He tapped a glyph on his slate, filtering the cadet out with a flicker of red light. Another name gone.This isn't working. Not well enough.The artifact under his tunic remained inert. Dormant. There were too many barriers—enchanted filters, suppression fields, mana noise from other casters. And more importantly, he was too far. Not just in distance, but in alignment. Without direct exposure to a concentration of Lunar Mana, the artifact couldn't properly attune itself to trace the resonance he was hunting.It wasn't meant to be used passively.It was meant to be pointed. Focused.Directed toward a known signature—something the Kin would naturally carry once their awakening progressed.He was close. He could feel that.Even now, the list was shrinking. Already, he had ruled out more than a hundred potential matches. Every filter narrowed the path. Every scan made the signal more visible beneath the noise.Still, he needed to get closer.Closer to the cadets. Closer to the core.Just as his fingers moved to tag the next team for analysis, a soft flicker of perfume cut through the crisp air.And then—A voice, low and velvet-smooth, murmured beside him."Now this is a surprise. I didn't think Solstice Dawn played the long game."Leonard turned his head slightly.She was seated beside him as if she had always been there—her arrival unannounced, her presence wrapped in practiced ease.Long legs crossed beneath sleek crimson fabric. A faint silver tattoo shimmered along her collarbone, half-veiled by her coat—something old, arcane, deliberately visible. Her hair was a cascading shade of obsidian with streaks of amaranth, and her lips curved with the confidence of someone used to being noticed.Leonard's gaze flicked toward the crest pinned to her shoulder—a stylized mirror etched in onyx and pearl, subtle yet elegant. It didn't match any of the major guilds he'd been briefed on. Not in the primary tier. Not even in the regulated freelance networks.He committed it to memory anyway.He didn't recognize her.Didn't recognize her guild.And he didn't like that.Because Leonard Elric—scout of Solstice Dawn in name only—wasn't a man who left variables untracked.Still, he kept his voice smooth. Measured."I'm afraid I don't recognize your badge."She smiled."Oh, I'm not surprised. Solstice Dawn is rather… insular these days." Her tone was amused, but layered—like she was playing a private game.Leonard tilted his head slightly, still watching the screens. "I'm new to fieldwork.""Ah," she said, as if that explained everything. "That makes more sense."She leaned in just a little, as though confiding something. Her perfume was faint—sandalwood and something darker beneath."You wear the guild colors well," she said with a lazy sort of admiration. "But you don't move like one of theirs."Leonard didn't respond.She didn't seem to mind."Solstice Dawn is old. Careful. They don't usually send pretty faces without a deep portfolio." She paused, then added thoughtfully, "Though if Asvel sent you, I suppose you're a special case."Leonard's expression didn't change.But inwardly?A beat.Asvel?He didn't know the name. Not in connection with Solstice Dawn, not anywhere.And that told him something very important:She did."Didn't think he still recruited personally," the woman continued, tapping one manicured nail against her projection rune. "He's grown boring in his age. All temples and thesis circles now. But I suppose every relic needs a sharp edge."She gave him another glance—this one longer, assessing."You don't talk like the others either. No market slang. No investment lingo. No regional drawl. So…" she tilted her head, her tone almost teasing, "why are you really here, Leonard?"He met her gaze evenly. "To watch. Just like you."She laughed—soft, sharp, like glass chiming."Watch what, though?" Her tone shifted slightly, her smile curving into something more knowing."I am really curious on that."

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Word Count: 1,191

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Reading Time: 6 minutes

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Updated: Oct 21, 2025 13:32

Created: Oct 21, 2025 13:32