Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 840 194.5 - Path

Chapter 840 194.5 - Path

The night was quiet as I walked through the academy grounds, the remnants of the party fading into silence behind me. The air was cool, crisp, carrying the faint scent of the trees lining the pathways. My steps were steady, unhurried, yet my mind was far from still.
Lilia.
I hadn't meant to analyze her this much, but it was inevitable.
She was one of the main cast. In the game, she had been Ethan's ally—a force in her own right, yet never fully in the spotlight. She was important, but not in the way party members were. She wasn't like Ethan, or Irina, or Julia.
She was something different.
An asset, not a constant.
And the reason for that was simple.
The developers hadn't designed her to be a frontline warrior, nor had they given her a role that would demand she be present in every battle. She wasn't a Hunter in the way Ethan was, in the way I was.
She was political.
A strong-willed businesswoman. A strategist. Someone who moved things from the outside.
And in that role, she thrived.
But not because she was great at it.
Because there was no one better.
That was the truth about Lilia. She wasn't incompetent—far from it. But she wasn't exceptional either. Not in management. Not in politics.
She was simply good enough to survive in that world.
Good enough to keep up.
Good enough to carve out her place.
But the thing about being "good enough" was that it wasn't secure.
It wasn't a guarantee.
Lilia wasn't a natural manipulator like Selene. She wasn't a natural leader like Ethan. She wasn't an indomitable force that demanded respect the moment she entered a room.
She worked for every inch of ground she gained.
And that?
That was her biggest flaw.
She still thought that working harder would be enough. That raw ability and determination could push her forward.
She was playing at politics with the mindset of a warrior.
And that was why she lost.
Not because she was weak.
Not because she wasn't smart.
But because she was playing the wrong game with the wrong approach.
I exhaled slowly, my steps carrying me further into the night.
If this were the game, I knew how it would go.
Lilia would continue down this path, facing struggle after struggle, slowly realizing that brute force wouldn't win her the Olympus Vanguard. She would learn, adapt, and eventually change her approach.
She would stop thinking like a fighter.
And start thinking like a ruler.
A ruler's mind.
That's what it took.
That's what Lilia needed.
But the ability to think like a ruler—it wasn't something that could be acquired simply by wanting it.
It wasn't something that could be earned through sheer effort alone.
It required talent.
And talent wasn't fair.
I stopped walking for a moment, glancing across the academy grounds. The lamplights flickered dimly, casting long shadows over the pathways. The distant hum of the city beyond the walls was barely audible, a reminder that the world kept moving even as this place remained frozen in its routines.
I knew how this world worked.
And I knew how Lilia worked.
Because I had seen it before.
In the game, there was an arc. A significant one.
The moment Lilia realized—too late—that she had chosen wrong.
Not that she was bad at being a guild leader. No, she was competent enough to survive, to push forward, to make her presence known. But competence was not the same as talent.
And the harshest truth?
Lilia was a Hunter.
She wasn't meant to be confined in meeting rooms, negotiating contracts, brokering deals like some politician desperate to cling to relevance.
She had talent. Skill.
A natural instinct that made her deadly with a bow.
A warrior's edge that made her dangerous when she fought.
And yet, she had put all of that aside.
Chasing an ideal. Chasing power. Chasing a throne that she thought would allow her to control her own fate.
But this world was past the point where politics alone could save anyone.
And in the game, she realized it.
Late.
Far too late.
The scene was burned into my memory—the moment she confessed it.
The moment she admitted, in a rare lapse of pride, that she regretted it all.
She had spent so much time maneuvering through the games of men, through the bureaucracy of power, that she had neglected the very thing that could have truly made a difference.
She had regretted not training harder.
Not honing her skill as a Hunter.
Not realizing that in the end, all the politics, all the backroom deals, all the alliances—they meant nothing when the true threats emerged.
Because when the world broke, when the monsters came, when the strongest of humanity had to stand and fight—
Politics didn't save people.
Power did.
I exhaled slowly.
That was her fate.
That was how her arc had played out.
But now?
Now, I was standing here.
And that meant the story had already begun to shift.
The only question was—
Would Lilia realize it this time?
Would she recognize the truth before it was too late?
Or would she once again waste her potential, chasing the illusion of control until the world forced her to understand?
I glanced at the empty sky, my expression unreadable.
The answer?
It wasn't up to me.
Not yet.
But at the same time, it was better for her to realize.
Better for her.
Better for the world.
There was no reason to lose talents like Lilia. No reason for her to waste herself in a losing game, pretending that the world still worked the way she wanted it to.
And more than that—
The things that would happen in the future…
They needed to change.
I resumed walking, my steps measured, my mind running through the possibilities. The game's plot was a tool, a guide—one that gave me insight into the grander picture. But that didn't mean it should be followed.
If anything, it shouldn't.
Because the setting of the game?
It was grim.
It wasn't a story about heroes winning a great victory. It wasn't a tale of righteousness triumphing over darkness.
It was survival.
It was sacrifice.
And it was about how much had to be lost before humanity could even have a chance at winning.
In the game, by the time Lilia realized the truth, she had already lost too much. Her allies, her resources, her position in Olympus Vanguard. Even her confidence.
She had been forced into a supporting role—not because she wasn't useful, but because by the time she was ready, the battle had already passed her by.
And that?
That was a waste.
Not just for her.
For everyone.
Lilia, at her core, was strong.
She had talent, skill, intelligence—everything that should have made her a true force in the world. But she had been misdirected, set on a path that had led to nowhere.
And if the game's plot continued as it had before, history would repeat itself.
Unless I changed it.
Unless I forced her to realize it sooner.
The thought settled in my mind like a cold certainty.
This wasn't just about Lilia's personal growth.
It was about preparing for what was coming.
Because when the worst began—when the real threats of this world emerged—
Politics wouldn't save anyone.
And if Lilia Thornheart wanted to stand at the top of Olympus Vanguard, if she truly wanted to be the leader she claimed to be—
Then she would have to understand.
Sooner, not later.
Because if she didn't?
She would be irrelevant in the battles to come.
And I would not let that happen.
"After all, everyone needs to have their own purpose, don't they?"
-------A/N---------