Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest-Chapter 1001 - 235.1 - Practical Mid-terms

The late afternoon sun dipped low across the academy grounds, painting the cobbled walkways and high towers in deep gold. Students filtered into the central lecture amphitheater, filling the wide, semi-circular rows with the subdued buzz of conversation.

The air, though heavy with tension, carried a crackle of excitement too—the kind of tension that only came before major announcements.

At the podium stood Instructor Verren, stone-faced as always, accompanied by Vice-headmaster Amelia and Professor Eleanor, whose presence at any briefing was enough to make even the most casual cadet sit up straight.

The room dimmed slightly as the projector glyphs activated overhead, casting a faint silver glow across the crowd.

With a curt nod from Eleanor, Verren stepped forward, his voice slicing cleanly through the murmurs.

"Attention, cadets."

Silence descended.

"Today you will be briefed on the structure of your upcoming Practical Examination."

A pause, as a new glyph appeared—rotating symbols of squads, gates, and observation arrays.

"As you are aware, scouts from multiple guilds and affiliated organizations will be present. They will observe your performances from designated stations. They will not interfere. They will not coach. They will only watch."

The words "observe" and "watch" hung in the air like a heavy warning.

Julia, seated near the middle, whispered under her breath, "So basically, don't embarrass ourselves."

Ethan shot her a sharp look. "This time it's not just about passing. It's about who's watching when you do."

Verren continued, unbothered by the underlying current of unease building in the room.

"Unlike last semester's individual duels, this practical will focus on team operations and coordinated combat. You will not be graded purely on personal strength. You will be graded on adaptability, tactical cohesion, and battlefield decision-making as a unit."

The glyph shifted to show team formations, colored indicators flashing through simulations.

"You will compete in your pre-registered teams from the Team Operations and Unit Specialization course. Those who failed to register for teams prior to this point will be assigned provisionary units."

A small ripple of movement—some cadets sat up straighter, reassured; others shifted uncomfortably, realizing what was coming.

Julia leaned toward Lucas with a grin. "At least we picked early. No randoms for us."

Irina remained composed, fingers tapping lightly against her knee in thought.

Astron, seated in the row just behind her, remained perfectly still, watching the projected glyphs rotate without blinking.

Verren's gaze swept the room again.

"Each team will be deployed into controlled simulated zones. Some of these zones will mimic hostile environments—fortified terrain, high-mana distortion fields, partial blackout conditions. You will be given mission objectives at the start of each round: control, retrieval, extraction, or survival."

The word survival made a few cadets stiffen unconsciously.

Verren let that sit before adding,

"There will be no direct eliminations. If you are critically wounded or deemed incapacitated by the assessment array, you will be removed from the field immediately. Teams will be graded on completion efficiency, casualty management, and strategic clarity."

A murmur rippled through the room.

This was no simple exhibition.

This was a field simulation of real hunting operations.

"There will be five rounds total," Verren continued.

"Teams must complete at least three rounds successfully to pass. Special commendations will be awarded to teams that complete all five with minimal casualties."

At that, a few competitive sparks lit up across the room.

Jasmine leaned forward, whispering to Layla, "We're gonna have to be perfect. No room for heroics this time."

Layla nodded grimly. "Tight and clean. That's the only way."

Verren tapped his tablet once, bringing up a timer glyph.

"The first wave of practicals begins in three days. You have until then to solidify your strategies and prepare your equipment. There will be no changes to team rosters past tonight."

He stepped back.

Professor Amelia moved to the front, her voice softer but carrying a distinct firmness.

"Remember—this practical is not just about passing."

"It's about who notices you."

The scouts.

The guilds.

The opportunity—or the mistake—that could define their careers before they even graduated.

And finally, it was Eleanor who spoke last, her gaze sweeping across the assembled cadets like a silent blade.

"When you enter that field, act like you belong there. Or you will be remembered for the wrong reasons."

Her tone was cutting, final.

The room breathed as one, the weight of reality sinking into them like stone.

This wasn't just a practical anymore.

It was a proving ground.

Verren gave a single nod.

"Prepare yourselves. Dismissed."

The glyphs faded.

Chairs scraped quietly against stone as cadets began filing out—quieter than usual, with tighter postures, minds already racing toward tactics, supplies, and team drills.

******

As the mass of cadets began to spill out of the amphitheater, breaking into small, buzzing groups of their own, a natural pull brought Astron, Irina, Jasmine, Layla, and Sylvie together near the side corridor—away from the heavier foot traffic but close enough to still feel the charged energy lingering in the air.

Irina was the first to speak, unsurprisingly. She folded her arms across her chest, her fiery red hair catching the faint light as her golden eyes gleamed with sharp focus.

"Tch. Didn't expect this level of seriousness for a mid-term," she muttered, voice low but strong enough for the group to hear. "Guild scouts, five full rounds… they're basically throwing us into a real battlefield." She huffed, straightening her posture. "But it doesn't matter much anyway."

Jasmine, standing to her right, offered a crooked smile. "I mean, it's a bit more pressure, sure. But we've already got something most teams are scrambling for."

Layla nodded, resting a hand casually on her hip. "Yeah. We actually work together." She glanced at the others. "Most teams are either glued together at the last second or still arguing about who should lead."

Sylvie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her voice calm as she added, "We've already built a foundation. Between the Kalthor's Method drills and the Tri-Layer Pressure formation practice… we know how to cover each other."

Irina smirked faintly at that, a rare glint of satisfaction flashing across her face. "Yeah. We're miles ahead of the average."

Astron, who had been silently observing as usual, gave a slight nod—an approval subtle enough that only those familiar with him would notice it.

Jasmine crossed her arms and rocked on her heels. "Still... this is gonna be rough. Five different types of objectives, changing environments. We can't just brute-force everything."

Layla gave a small chuckle. "Well, maybe not everything. But we've got enough flexibility to handle it."

Irina turned her head slightly, her fiery red hair catching the fading light filtering through the corridor windows. Her golden eyes locked onto Astron, a playful glint hidden behind their sharpness.

"And what about you, Mr. Silent Strategist?" she asked, her voice light but carrying a familiar edge of curiosity. "What's your grand opinion about all this?"

Astron met her gaze evenly, unfazed. He leaned back slightly, resting his hands casually in his jacket pockets. His voice, when it came, was as steady and grounded as ever.

"At the end of the day," he said calmly, "there's no need to overthink it."

The others blinked, surprised by how simply he phrased it.

Astron continued, his sharp purple eyes sweeping across the group. "An exam is an exam. You prepare. You show up. You do what you can. That's all there is to it." His tone remained neutral, almost matter-of-fact. "We go in, move the way we've trained, and adapt as needed."

Irina's lips curled into a smirk, a spark of amusement flickering across her face. She gave a small nod of approval. "Agreed," she said, her voice firmer now. "No point stressing about what-ifs. We're ready."

Jasmine let out a mock groan, throwing her hands up. "Ugh. You two are impossible sometimes. It's like you live in your own little world where nothing shakes you."

Layla snorted, crossing her arms. "Yeah. Must be nice being built out of pure confidence."

Sylvie, standing a little behind the others, said nothing. But her green eyes narrowed slightly, and she couldn't help but glare quietly at the two of them—Astron and Irina standing there, looking so sure, so steady.

A flicker of something stirred in her chest—something she didn't fully understand.

She quickly pushed the feeling down, smoothing her expression before anyone could notice.

They had a mission to focus on.

Personal feelings could wait.

"Whatever," Jasmine said, waving a hand dismissively. "As long as you two can back it up when we're knee-deep in trouble, I'm fine."

"We will," Irina said confidently, flashing a sharp grin.