Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 633 139.3 - Prepare

n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Power of the Void.

A concept so elusive, yet foundational. I couldn't help but ponder it as I traced the intricate lines of the necklace again.

Void isn't like space or time—two concepts bound by linearity and dimensional constraints. Space can be bent, stretched, and manipulated, and time is a flow we either travel with or attempt to bend backward. But Void? Void is different.

Void, by its very nature, is emptiness. It's nothing. A vacuum devoid of form, substance, or existence. But that's what makes Void power so unique, so dangerous. In the game, the concept was executed in a way that elevated it beyond the usual metaphysical ideas. Void wasn't just emptiness; it was the power of nullifying.

Nullifying everything.

Void power could erase an attack before it even reached you. It could nullify defenses, rendering even the most impenetrable barriers meaningless. It didn't matter what form it took—be it a trait, an ability, a skill, or a passive—it could be undone, negated, swallowed by the Void's endless hunger. The concept itself was boundless. A formless power that could assume any shape, any function, and then… remove it.

In a way, Void power wasn't about what it was—it was about what it wasn't. It didn't create or destroy; it simply removed the existence of whatever stood before it. And that's why it was so terrifying. It wasn't bound by the limitations of the physical or magical world. It could nullify a sword mid-swing, erasing its edge and leaving nothing but a handle. It could cancel out the most complex spell formations, reducing them to nothingness in an instant.

Endless. Infinite. And entirely without form.

The very idea of Void power was that it could be anything or nothing. That was the paradox—an endless concept capable of turning anything into a void of non-existence. No matter how strong an enemy was, or how complex their abilities were, the Void could always find a way to nullify them.

That was why I needed to kill the Void Dragon ahead of the timeline. Acquiring [Voidborne] wasn't just about obtaining an overwhelming power—it was about having the time to cultivate and refine it. Even with the ability to control the void, traits like [Voidborne] were not instantaneous sources of strength. They were growth-type abilities, just like my existing [Shadowborne].

Traits, by their very definition, required cultivation. They weren't passive gifts bestowed upon the wielder, but abilities that needed to be honed, trained, and expanded over time. Proficiency wasn't immediate; it had to be earned. And the earlier you acquired a trait, the more time you had to increase your mastery over it. The sooner I obtained [Voidborne], the sooner I could begin that process of refinement.

Just as [Shadowborne] had grown alongside me—allowing me to manipulate shadows, move unseen, and blend into the darkness—[Voidborne] would need the same careful attention. Mastering the power of void wasn't something that could be rushed. It was a concept that required discipline, control, and understanding.

The more time I had to develop the trait, the stronger it would become.

'And there's also this,' I thought, recalling a critical concept in my mind—the ability to freely command Void-attributed mana. That was the cornerstone of this entire plan, the reason I was willing to take all the risks combined. Commanding void mana was key to opposing whatever lay ahead, and with the world already diverging from the original timeline, I needed a power that would let me adapt.

'With how the world is shifting, there's no guarantee that whatever happens next will remain within my grasp.' The plot of the game was accelerating faster than expected, and there were already signs that events could spiral out of control. If something emerged that was beyond my current abilities, something nearly invincible, I needed to be prepared. I needed something that could match and surpass it—something like Void power.

Victor's powers. The thought of him….

In the game, he had been one of the rivals of the main character and the most dangerous villain, a force of destruction that had left scars on both the world and the main cast. He wasn't alone, either. Many others, villains like Victor, had wielded abilities that threatened to upend everything. Each time, the player barely scraped by. That was why I needed [Voidborne], why I needed a power capable of countering threats like him.

But I wasn't blind to the risks. Even if the Void Dragon was still in its growth phase, not yet fully developed, it was still a dragon. The power it held, even in a weakened state, was nothing to take lightly. One wrong move, and I could end up as nothing more than a footnote in the dragon's path to full strength.

With my current abilities, going against a primordial dragon was still a gamble. Even with the strategic advantage of striking early, the risk was undeniable. But that was exactly why I couldn't wait.

'It is hard to describe this exact feeling, but I feel like things will no longer be the same from the second semester.'

And since that would be the case.

'The risks are worth it,' I reminded myself. I needed to strike before it became fully awakened. If I succeeded, the power of the void would be mine. If I failed… Well, failure wasn't an option.

That was why I had laid everything out before me. Five rare herbs, scattered around in a calculated pattern on the table. Each one had been difficult to acquire, but the preparation was worth it. Their potency, when combined, would give me an edge against the Void Dragon.

I glanced over the herbs, naming them silently as I assessed their quality:

Celial Nightshade – A plant said to bloom only under the light of a blue moon, its toxic essence potent enough to disrupt mana flow in any creature.

Voidroot – Dark as the void itself, a root that grows deep in desolate wastelands, known for its ability to absorb and nullify surrounding mana.

Hernetrgrass – A shimmering, silver plant that resonates with dimensional magic, often used in spells that distort or fold space.

Dokebloom – A rare flower found in dragon territories, its petals imbued with a faint essence of dragon's blood, effective against draconic creatures.

Rostglow Moss – A cold, blue moss that thrives in the harshest conditions, its chilling effects capable of slowing down even the strongest regenerative abilities.

Why were they scattered here in front of me?

Because combining all these herbs using just a small amount of Drakenvenom, a highly volatile liquid known for its mana-reactive properties, would create a concoction—one that could pierce through the defenses of a Void Dragon.

In the game, this concoction was called Void's Bane. It wasn't something easily stumbled upon. Players who completed a specific side mission—one tied to the history of the Void Clan—would discover it. The side mission revolved around an ancient alchemist, a man whose life had been consumed by his desire for revenge against the Void Clan after they wiped out his family. His final creation was this poison, specifically designed to weaken the Void Clan's most powerful creatures.

The note found during the mission had always stuck with me. The alchemist had written, "For every ounce of suffering they inflicted, I will return it tenfold. Let this be my final strike against the darkness that devoured my world."

I had managed to acquire all the ingredients and the Rakenvenom, knowing full well that it would give me the edge I needed.

I had already tested a lesser version of this poison against Zharokath. That had been the real reason why he couldn't expel it from his body or even sense it was there. The principle behind the concoction—its ability to nullify mana at a fundamental level—was what made it so dangerous. And Zharokath, weak as he was compared to the fully awakened Void Dragon, didn't stand a chance once it took hold.

Now, looking over the rare herbs before me, I carefully checked their conditions one final time. The Celial Nightshade's dark petals were intact, the Voidroot still held its dense, mana-absorbing properties, and the Dokebloom's draconic essence was potent as ever. Each herb was in the precise condition I needed them to be.

Satisfied, I began placing the ingredients back into my spatial bracelet. I didn't have the necessary equipment to brew the concoction yet—that part would come later today, once I reached the right facility. For now, the materials were safe, and the plan was coming together.

I glanced at the other item I had prepared for this mission. A small, unassuming pill. But the cost of that pill was anything but insignificant—5 million Valer. Expensive, but necessary.

[Overdriving Pill]

This pill was designed to boost an Awakened's stats by a staggering 35% for about three minutes. In a battle against something as dangerous as the Void Dragon, every second mattered, and that kind of boost could tip the scales. However, there was a price to pay for such power. Once the effects wore off, the body would suffer from intense strain, leaving the user weakened and vulnerable.

I turned the pill over in my fingers, feeling its weight.

I'd only use it as a last resort. In a fight where timing and precision meant everything, it was a gamble—but one I couldn't afford not to have on hand.

'Everything has a cost,' I reminded myself, placing the pill carefully into my supplies. The battle with the Void Dragon wouldn't just be about strength; it would be about how much I was willing to risk.

I had also considered contacting Sylvie. Her blessing, far superior to any temporary enhancements like the [Overdriving Pill], offered a significant boost without any of the drawbacks. It lasted for over two hours, and when it ended, there were no side effects—just pure, sustained power. It was a gift she could bestow with ease, one that could potentially turn the tide in a battle against the Void Dragon.

But then, almost immediately, I dismissed the thought. It was a stupid idea.

Relying on Sylvie would mean more than just asking for her help. Besides, I couldn't afford to become dependent on her power. The risks I was taking were mine to bear, and this fight was something I had to handle on my own terms.

'No,' I decided, shaking the thought away.