Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest-Chapter 653 144.1 - Finally

<Friday Morning, Mansion of Emberheart>

Irina sat across from her mother at the long dining table, the morning sun filtering through the Emberheart estate's towering windows, casting a chill despite its warmth. The scent of freshly baked bread and honey lingered in the air, but Irina felt no appetite. After days spent enduring the brutal trials in the Chamber of Emberheart, her body still ached, though it had become stronger in ways even she hadn't anticipated.

But none of it seemed to matter under her mother's gaze.

The Matriarch of the Emberheart family sat silently at the head of the table, her posture impeccable, eyes cold as they regarded her daughter. The faintest twitch of her lips hinted at disapproval. Irina kept her own gaze focused on the table, her fingers poised around her teacup, waiting for her mother's judgment—an inevitable ritual with every achievement, no matter how hard-won.

"Is this all?" her mother finally said, her voice a quiet blade cutting through the silence.

Irina's grip on her cup tightened, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. She knew her mother's expectations well enough by now, yet some part of her had hoped—foolishly—that this time, the strength she'd gained would be enough.

"I completed the Chamber's trials," Irina replied, her voice steady but edged with a restrained frustration. "My reserves have nearly doubled. I've learned the Emberheart Flame Cascade technique. I know it doesn't mean anything yet, but it's progress."

Her mother's gaze didn't waver, and she made no attempt to mask the unimpressed look on her face. "Progress?" she echoed, her tone laced with subtle disdain. "Is that what you call it? You may have endured the Chamber, Irina, but a flame that flickers under pressure is not enough. You will need more than mere progress if you are to carry our name."

The words hit Irina harder than she wanted to admit. For anyone else, surviving the Chamber would have been a mark of accomplishment, but for her mother, it was simply the bare minimum.

"I'm not finished," Irina replied, meeting her mother's gaze with a defiance that simmered beneath her calm expression. "I know what's expected of me, Mother. I'm not asking for approval, just a moment to catch my breath."

A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corners of the Matriarch's mouth. "Approval? You still misunderstand. This is not about approval—it is about readiness." She reached for her tea, letting a measured silence fall between them before continuing. "Do you think your opponents will wait for you to 'catch your breath'? They won't care if you're tired or in pain. You'll either be prepared or you'll be eliminated."

Irina bit back a retort, refusing to let her frustration surface. "I'm well aware of that, Mother. But even you didn't master the Emberheart legacy overnight."

Her mother's eyes sharpened a subtle challenge flashing in them. "I was not distracted by trivial attachments," she replied a clear jab at the connections Irina had made outside their family. "The Emberheart name demands full devotion. You're distracted by those who will only weaken you."

There it was—the criticism that lingered behind every reprimand, every cold look. Irina kept her gaze steady, though the words stung deeper than any training wound.

"Those connections aren't a weakness," Irina countered, keeping her tone measured. "If anything, they've strengthened me."

Her mother's expression remained unchanged, save for the faintest crease of disapproval. "Strengthened? You allow your emotions to cloud your judgment. Sentiment will only drag you down."

The silence thickened, and Irina felt her pulse quicken, anger flickering beneath her calm exterior. She had fought, sacrificed, and bled, all to live up to her family's impossible standards—and still, it was never enough.

The Matriarch's gaze remained fixed on Irina, sharp as ever, her expression unreadable. At Irina's question, "Is that all, Mother?" she simply shook her head, a subtle gesture that sent a wave of tension through the air. Irina's pulse quickened, the silence amplifying her anticipation.

But instead of continuing her reprimand, the Matriarch tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as if examining something beneath the surface. "'That boy,'" she began, her tone deceptively casual. "I remember instructing you to invite him here."

Irina's reaction was subtle but unmistakable—a small, defiant smile brightening her face. She no longer bothered to hide the connection, knowing well that her mother, with all her influence and resources, would discover any hidden ties regardless. There was no point in subterfuge; the truth lay bare between them, and Irina had chosen to meet it head-on.

"Yes, Mother," Irina replied, her tone calm yet tinged with an unmistakable edge of satisfaction. "Just as you requested, I have called him here. He will be taking the portal today."

The Matriarch's expression flickered, a hint of intrigue briefly breaking through her icy façade. "Hmm...he will be taking the portal, today, you say?" The Matriarch's eyes narrowed, her sharp gaze honing in on her daughter with a renewed intensity. So, she thought, this is what you meant by 'requesting free time today.'

It was evident. The moment Irina mentioned that "the boy" would be taking the portal to Etheria Haven, the pieces had fallen into place. Irina's subtle smile, her unusual request for personal time—it all led to one conclusion. She intended to meet him, to personally welcome Astron upon his arrival.

The Matriarch's voice cut through the air, laced with a chilly edge. "You've requested free time today, and he just so happens to be arriving… today?" She leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. "I assume you realize how transparent that looks, Irina."

Irina's smile didn't falter. She held her mother's gaze, a hint of defiance sparking in her eyes. "Yes, Mother. I'm aware."

The Matriarch's lips pressed into a thin line, her displeasure evident. "So you mean to show everyone your… connection to him. You intend to let it be seen—this attachment of yours?"

Irina's expression remained calm, but her tone carried an undeniable strength. "He is mine, mother. Someone who will be on my side, and the same for me. My loyalty to him isn't a weakness; it's a choice. One I won't hide."

The Matriarch's fingers tapped lightly on the table, her gaze growing colder. "Your choices are becoming increasingly bold, Irina. But remember, every connection you make binds you. And the Emberheart legacy cannot afford bonds that weigh it down."

Irina's gaze didn't waver as she met her mother's cold, scrutinizing stare. "Then perhaps, Mother, when he arrives, you can see him yourself," she said, her tone unwavering. "I'd wager you may regret those words once you do."

The Matriarch's eyes flashed, a faint smile curling at the edges of her mouth. It was a smile devoid of warmth, one that held a glint of both irritation and amusement. "Regret?" she replied, her voice laced with ice. "I don't regret anything I do, Irina. That is the Emberheart way. It is the reason I took control of this family and built it into what it is today."

Her mother leaned back, her expression darkening as she recalled her own rise to power. "In my youth, I fought for succession with my siblings, clawing my way to this seat. I did whatever was necessary to secure our legacy. I have no regrets, no matter the price. And I expect the same resilience from you."

Irina held her ground, a flicker of defiance still in her eyes. But she knew better than to press further. Her mother's ascent had been built on calculated choices, many of them ruthless. The Matriarch expected her to follow the same path, to be unyielding, unshaken by sentiment.

The Matriarch's faint smile faded, her expression hardening as she eyed Irina with a touch of annoyance. "But understand this," she continued, her tone sharp and unforgiving, "even if I did wish to see this boy, I must uphold the dignity of this family."

She leaned forward, her gaze narrowing with a cold fire. "The heir of the Emberheart family does not lower herself to welcome someone of no standing. It is unacceptable for you to go there yourself, and I expect you to understand that."

Irina's jaw clenched, the familiar frustration simmering beneath her calm exterior. Her mother's words were a reminder of the rigid expectations placed upon her—a constant weight, a line that could not be crossed without consequence.

But that did not mean she did not have her own argument.

Irina's gaze sharpened, a flicker of challenge lighting her eyes as she met her mother's unyielding stare. Her tone was calm, yet there was an undeniable edge to it as she replied, "That might be the case, Mother… for someone who is weak. But for someone with true talent, the act of receiving him in person demonstrates strength—a declaration of whom he stands with, and to whom he owes his loyalty."

The Matriarch's expression didn't soften, but she didn't interrupt, her eyes narrowing as Irina continued.

"Anyone can bow to a lion when it's fully grown, acknowledging its power once it's already risen. But the one who claims its loyalty, who earns its respect, is the one who stood beside it when it was just a cub. That's the respect that matters, and that's what I want from him."

For a moment, silence reigned between them, thick and charged with unspoken tension. Irina had spoken boldly, and she knew her mother would not appreciate the comparison—or her challenge to the Emberheart traditions.

"You have indeed grown up."

The Matriarch's faint smile remained, her gaze shifting from cold disapproval to a glimmer of curiosity. Irina's words had been bold, brimming with conviction, and the Matriarch couldn't ignore the fierce loyalty her daughter displayed toward this boy. It was unusual—and intriguing.

"You speak of him with such certainty, Irina," she said, her tone softer but no less calculating. "You've shown a tenacity I have rarely seen, even within our family. Perhaps there is something to this boy, after all."

Irina felt a faint sense of victory, but she kept her expression steady, waiting for her mother's response.

"Very well," the Matriarch continued. "I will allow you to do as you please this time. Go, welcome him as you wish." She leaned back, her eyes narrowing, the coldness in them returning with a sharp edge. "But mark this: if he fails to meet my expectations, if he proves to be anything less than what you so adamantly promise… I will not tolerate a disgrace. Not again."

Her words were a thinly veiled threat, each syllable laced with the weight of Emberheart tradition and the ruthless expectations she held over her daughter. Irina knew well the implications. Her mother was granting her the freedom she sought, but only on the understanding that failure would bring consequences—and that her mother would not hesitate to cut any ties that weakened their legacy.

"I understand, Mother," Irina replied, her voice steady. "I know the weight of the Emberheart name, and I assure you, he will not be a disappointment."

The Matriarch's expression softened, but only slightly, a hint of approval in her gaze. "See that he isn't. I will be watching."

Irina inclined her head, respectful but resolute. She turned to leave, her heart racing but her mind focused. She had won a small victory, but she knew this was only the beginning. Astron would need to prove himself worthy, not just to her but to her mother and the entire Emberheart legacy.

'Well, he is more than enough for this.' ----------A/N--------