Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 772  Chapter 178.2 - Previous undercurrents

The semester might have changed, the rankings might have shifted, but I hadn't. Improvement wasn't a matter of sudden bursts; it was built on consistency, on maintaining routines that grounded progress. And so, as usual, I found myself heading to the training grounds. 
The walk there was quiet, the crisp morning air carrying the faint hum of mana that always seemed to permeate the academy. The training hall loomed ahead, its tall, clean structure reflecting the subtle glow of the rising sun. As I stepped inside, the familiar scent of polished wood and faint mana traces greeted me. 
The hall wasn't crowded, just as I'd expected. At most, around ten percent of the stations were occupied. A few students sparred in the central ring, their strikes ringing out as their weapons clashed. Others worked with dummies or practiced channeling their mana into controlled bursts. The air was alive with muted focus, but it lacked the intensity it should have had. 
I paused near the entrance, surveying the scene. The ratio was too low for what the academy expected of its students. A faint frown tugged at the corner of my mouth as the realization set in. 
"They still didn't get the seriousness back," I murmured to myself, my voice barely above a whisper. "It appears the academy still hasn't managed to instill that sense of urgency." 
In a way, it wasn't surprising. For many students, the stakes didn't yet feel real. The rankings, the lessons, the spars—it was all part of a system that felt distant from the harsher realities beyond the academy's walls. They weren't truly feeling the weight of what awaited them outside—monsters, demons, the unpredictable chaos of the world. 
But for those who understood, for those who could see the storm brewing, there was no room for complacency. Every minute here mattered. Every ounce of effort was a step closer to survival.