Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 1068

Chapter 1068: Chapter 253.1 - Mission

The week that followed was quiet only on the surface.

But beneath the stillness—beneath the day-to-day routines of academy life and guild briefings—the world was shifting.

It began with scattered reports. One or two new dungeon formations per region. Nothing alarming, not at first. The Association logged them as "routine anomalies" and flagged them for inspection. The guilds responded with cautious interest. Field teams were dispatched. Preliminary scans were conducted.

And then came the refusals.

Gates that wouldn’t open.

Teams of experienced Hunters—men and women with years of battle behind them—stood before dungeons that pulsed with power, only to be denied entry without explanation or resistance. Their mana signatures were acknowledged. Their presence was marked. But the gates simply... remained still.

Unmoving.

Untouched.

Waiting.

At first, the Association thought it was a classification error. Then a spectral distortion. Then a calibration bug. But none of their solutions worked.

And then, one by one, low-ranked scouting teams—comprised almost entirely of youth—began to report successful entry.

The pattern became undeniable.

Only cadets were getting through.

By the fourth day, a wave of new dungeons surged across the northern zones. Stabilized, active, and unmanned. The Association scrambled. By the sixth day, more had emerged in the western reaches—some within proximity of critical cities. Still inert to senior hunters.

And by the seventh day, the situation turned critical.

The number of active dungeons had exceeded any predicted growth model.

At the headquarters of the Central Arcane Analysis Division, the overlays showed red warnings blinking across a third of the continental grid. The Association was no longer able to dispatch teams fast enough—nor did they have enough eligible personnel to respond.

Many guilds, particularly those outside the urban strongholds, simply didn’t have young enough hunters to deploy. Rural sectors, elite-focused guilds, research dominions—none of them had anticipated this kind of restriction.

Unowned dungeons meant unsealed threats.

And unsealed threats meant destruction.

That was when the Organization stepped in.

The order came from above—one of the highest encrypted protocols reserved for global contingency responses. Every operative with the rank of Watcher or higher received the directive:

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CLASSIFIED ORDER – LEVEL 2

Subject: [Resonance-Selective Dungeon Crisis]

Directive: Activate Protocol ORBITAL FOLD

Priority: Immediate

Authority: Anchor Consensus

Identify viable Adept-level assets under 21.

Reclassify qualified personnel from passive to active status.

Begin regional dispersal and gate-claiming operations.

Field control to be executed by designated Watchers.

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Reina received the notification in her office at midnight.

The glyph seal pulsed once—deep crimson, laced with triple-binding encryption.

She opened it without hesitation.

Her eyes moved swiftly across the scroll of data. Coordinates. Names. Known unclaimed gates. Cross-referenced age compatibility logs. Even before the final instruction had finished materializing, she was already calculating.

Then came the voice through the encrypted channel—calm, neutral, commanding.

"This situation is now under Organization jurisdiction. All affiliated Watchers are hereby tasked with assembling field-ready candidates from existing rosters and provisional reserves. Selection is to be completed within forty-eight hours."

The message had arrived only minutes ago, but already the Watchers’ internal channels were alive with movement.

Secure comm-lines flickered with chatter. Directives routed. Names cross-referenced. Clearance levels overridden. Every Watcher stationed at the Arcadia-adjacent base had received the same order—Protocol ORBITAL FOLD was now in effect, and the world’s rhythm was no longer dictated by strategy or politics.

It was dictated by urgency.

Reina stood before the vertical interface wall, the cool blue light casting long shadows across her office. Lines of names, classifications, training timestamps, and mana profiles scrolled down the translucent screen, each tagged with identifiers: APPROVED, INELIGIBLE, PENDING VERIFICATION.

Seven full rosters were already under evaluation across the facility.

Watchers from other departments were working with haste—combing through candidate lists from their own trainee divisions. The week-long combat assessments they’d run just prior had proven unexpectedly valuable. Field-readiness scores, mana synchronization rates, emotional stability under duress—all now elevated from internal metrics to live deployment filters.

Teams were beginning to take shape.

Pairs. Trios. Tactical squads. All under twenty-one. All trained.

Reina’s fingers moved with clinical precision across the interface, scrolling past regional restrictions and command overlays. She opened the Adept classification list—updated just hours ago with the newest integration data.

Her gaze swept past familiar names.

Each of them flagged as AVAILABLE. Each a potential asset in this global pivot.

Natusalune, Astron.

—Override: Temporary Vacation Active – 9 Days remaining

Temporary Vacation Active – 9 Days Remaining.

Arcadia Academy Mid-Term Format:

Now, it made too much sense.

And they’d prepared quietly.

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