Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

"Just endure this for as long as you can."

Before either of them could process the meaning of those words, it hit.

A force unlike anything they had felt before.

An unbearable weight crashed down upon them.

Ethan barely had time to react before his knees buckled under the sheer magnitude of it. His breath hitched, eyes widening as an unseen force crushed against his body, sending waves of pain through every fiber of his being.

"Urghk—!" A strangled gasp escaped his lips, his body instinctively fighting against it.

And then—cough!

Blood splattered onto the polished floor.

Ethan's body convulsed slightly as he hunched forward, his arms trembling as they barely held him upright. His vision blurred at the edges, the sheer pressure making his bones feel like they were grinding against each other.

What the hell is this?! his mind screamed. It wasn't just mana pressure—it was something else, something far more refined, far more controlled. It wasn't just an oppressive force—it was a scalpel, dissecting every weakness he had and pressing into them mercilessly.

Beside him, Astron was still standing—but just barely. His body was rigid, every muscle locked in place as if his sheer will alone was keeping him upright. His breathing was shallow, controlled, but Eleanor could see the faint quiver in his fingertips, the slight tremble of his jaw as he clenched his teeth to endure.

The difference between the two was clear.

Ethan, for all his instinct and adaptability, was still reacting. He was trying to resist the force like an external attack, as if it were something he could push back against.

Astron, on the other hand, was enduring. He wasn't wasting his energy fighting it head-on—he was adjusting, recalibrating, shifting his center of gravity in the smallest, most efficient ways possible. He was already trying to understand the force bearing down on him.

Eleanor rested her chin against her palm, observing them both with a calculating expression.

"Not bad," she murmured.

Ethan let out a low growl, forcing his head up to glare at her. "Not bad—? What the hell is this?!" he rasped, his voice strained.

Eleanor didn't answer right away. Instead, she leaned forward slightly, her golden eyes gleaming.

"This," she said slowly, "is gravity."

Ethan's eyes widened, realization dawning even as his body screamed in protest.

She was increasing the gravity in the room. Not in the usual way—this wasn't just some heavy weight being pushed down on them. No, this was precise. Tailored. Every part of their body was feeling a slightly different level of pressure, forcing them to compensate in ways that normal combat scenarios would never demand.

It was training at the most brutal level of control.

Astron, through gritted teeth, finally spoke. His voice, though strained, remained steady. "How much… is it?"

Eleanor tilted her head slightly. "Currently? Roughly 13 times standard gravity."

Ethan let out a choked laugh, part disbelief, part frustration. "Five—? Oh, great. Fantastic." His arms trembled violently as he struggled to push himself upright. No wonder it feels like my organs are about to burst.

Astron, despite his better endurance, was still visibly strained. His usual calm expression was lined with tension, his sharp purple eyes narrowed as he recalculated his breathing pattern.

Eleanor watched them both, gauging their limits. Five times gravity is already beyond what most cadets could withstand. But… how far can they really go?

She leaned back slightly, a faint, almost amused smile on her lips.

"Shall we go higher?" she asked.

Ethan's head snapped up, his eyes wild. "Wait, what—?!"

And then the pressure increased.

Eleanor tapped a single finger against her wrist, and the pressure surged.

Fifteen times standard gravity.

Ethan let out a strangled gasp as the crushing force intensified, his muscles screaming in protest. His hands slammed against the ground to brace himself, his entire body shaking violently under the weight. His vision blurred at the edges, his heartbeat pounding like a war drum in his ears.

Astron remained standing, but just barely. His stance shifted again, his breathing becoming more controlled—deeper, slower, deliberate. Even still, a faint tremor ran through his arms, a sign that even he was reaching his limit.

Eleanor, watching from her seat, was not impressed.

"I hope you're beginning to understand," she said, her voice cool and unwavering, completely detached from the suffering in front of her.

Ethan barely managed to lift his head, his hazel eyes glazed with pain. "Understand…?" he choked out, his voice strained.

Eleanor's golden eyes gleamed. "The force pressing down on you right now? It is gravity, yes. A physical force. And if it were only that, perhaps you could endure it with enough raw strength, enough physical fortitude."

Her fingers tapped against the console, and the pressure shifted again—not in weight, but in sensation.

Ethan and Astron both felt it immediately. The crushing weight no longer just pressed down on them—it began to bend, to twist around their bodies unnaturally, like invisible hands manipulating their very balance. Their equilibrium warped, their bodies refusing to move the way they expected.

Astron's breathing hitched for the first time.

Ethan's arms buckled further, his shoulders shaking violently. "Wh—What the hell now?" he rasped, trying and failing to keep the panic out of his voice.

Eleanor's expression remained impassive. "I told you before," she continued, "mana presence—this force you are feeling—is not just material."

She gestured around them, as if motioning to something unseen. "Gravity is a force, bound by the physical rules of this world. A measurable concept, one that physics can define and understand.

"Yet—" her golden eyes sharpened, her voice dropping slightly in tone, "—whenever you face a high-ranking Hunter, or a mana beast, or any being with an overwhelming mana presence, you should never think of it as just a physical force."

The weight pressing on them shifted again, subtly changing direction in pulses, forcing their bodies to adjust every fraction of a second.

Ethan's body spasmed from the unnatural sensation, the sheer unpredictability making it impossible for him to stabilize himself. His instincts, the very thing he always relied on, were being turned against him.

Astron, for all his composure, finally gritted his teeth. He was adapting—calculating, even—but Eleanor could see it now. The strain creeping into his expression. The moment-to-moment mental adjustments were beginning to tax him.

Eleanor's lips curled into the faintest smirk. Good.

"Mana itself is not bound by physical rules," she stated. "We have learned this for countless different times. In the classroom, in the lectures."

Eleanor's gaze flicked between the two cadets, her sharp golden eyes studying them both with analytical precision. Ethan was visibly struggling, his body trembling under the crushing force, while Astron—though also affected—was holding out significantly better.

She tilted her head slightly before speaking, her voice calm yet instructive. "Ethan."

Ethan gritted his teeth, barely managing to lift his head to meet her gaze.

"You have a stronger body than Astron," she stated plainly. "In terms of pure physical capability—if we were to compare raw strength, endurance, and overall body durability—you would win."

Ethan let out a strangled chuckle, wiping the small trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. "Well, that's… great to know, Professor. Doesn't really feel like it helps right now."

Eleanor ignored his sarcasm. "Yet, despite this advantage, he is resisting the pressure better than you."

At that, Ethan's eyes flicked toward Astron.

Indeed, Eleanor's words rang true. Astron was still standing. His body was taut, his fingers slightly trembling, his breath carefully measured—but he was holding. Enduring. While Ethan, for all his natural physical superiority, was barely keeping himself from collapsing.

"How…?" Ethan rasped, frustration creeping into his voice. "How the hell are you—?"

"You're asking yourself how," Eleanor interrupted, her voice smooth and knowing. "How is he resisting it better than you?"

Ethan didn't respond immediately, but the flicker of frustration in his hazel eyes made it clear—that was exactly what he was thinking.

Eleanor's lips curled slightly. "The answer lies in yourself."

Ethan's breath was ragged, but he managed a glare. "You wanna be a little less cryptic and just tell me?"

Eleanor leaned back slightly, resting one arm on her knee. "Use your mana."
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Ethan blinked. For a second, his mind felt sluggish, but then realization hit him. Mana. Of course. His body wasn't just fighting against physical pressure. This was mana manipulation—a presence, a force beyond mere weight.

Gritting his teeth, he focused inward, drawing from the well of energy within him. His mana flared, a golden hue crackling around him, wrapping his body in raw power.

And yet—

Nothing changed.