Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

The field was empty. Empty of life, of noise, of hope. Just him - Kael - and what was left of the one who had dared to touch Sylphie.

The dark elf was suspended in the air, hanging upside down by the shadows that coiled around him like serpents made of condensed fear. His arms had been dislocated in the initial impact, and the skin under his eyes was beginning to crack from the pressure of the blood accumulating in his head. But Kael was in no hurry.

True revenge is not shouted. It's whispered, slow, precise.

Kael moved closer, and the aura around his body oscillated between absolute heat and a cutting cold, as if nature itself didn't know whether to burn or freeze in front of him.

"You're going to tell me everything."

The voice wasn't loud. But it sounded like a universal sentence. The tone was emotionless, as if Kael was just describing the weather - or the end of the world.

The dark elf tried to speak, but only managed to let out a string of shaky sobs. Kael raised his hand. A small crack resounded. One of the elf's fingers exploded, imploding from the inside out as if it had been crushed by something invisible.

The scream that followed didn't echo - Kael's aura absorbed the sound. There would be no mercy. No witnesses.

Kael took a deep breath and looked into the eyes of the elf, who was now writhing in pain and terror.

"You took part in the attack. You touched her. You saw what they did."

He snapped his fingers again. Another finger went. Then another. And another.

"Every word you don't say will have a part of your body torn off as payment. And I am patient."

Kael knelt in front of the elf, still suspended, and placed his hand on his chest. The invader's eyes widened as he felt Kael's dark, divine energy penetrating his flesh, searching inside.

Kael wasn't just looking for memories now. He was looking for guilt.

"You laughed when she screamed. Don't try to deny it. Your mind is still dirty with the sound. I heard it."

The elf's body began to convulse. Kael was spiritually crushing his heart - keeping it beating just enough to keep him alive, but forcing each beat like a funeral drum.

"Who's the leader? Why now? How did you get into the Inner Realm?!"

The elf shouted, not in resistance, but in despair.

"V-Varkhellion! He promised us ascension! He said that girl's suffering would be the catalyst! She's the... key!"

Kael frowned. His hand squeezed tighter.

"Key?"

"D-The temple! The Temple of Noctharyn! He needs it to break the seal of Dythreus - the exiled arch-demon! He'll use her as a sacrifice!"

Kael let go of the elf's chest and stood up. But the elf wasn't finished yet.

"There was a plan... for you too... they wanted you to see! They wanted to break you! They wanted you... to go mad... and burn the Kingdoms for us!"

Silence.

Kael didn't answer right away.

But then he started to laugh.

Not with joy. Not insanely.

It was a cold laugh. An acceptance.

"So that was the plan..."

He turned slightly, looking at the horizon. The earth was still shaking, echoes of recent battles resounding in ancient whispers.

"They wanted to use me as a catalyst for destruction? So be it."

He raised his arm. The shadows holding the elf began to squirm, squeezing, pulling...

"No! N-No, please! I've said everything! I said it! Kael! Please, have mercy! I regret it! I-!"

Kael turned around, his eyes two blazing chasms.

"Did you have mercy on her?"

The elf's body was shattered. Not exploded, not broken.

Dismantled.

As if each bone had been separated millimetres from the flesh, like a sculpture being carved in reverse.

There was no blood left. Kael had sucked even that up - so that not a single impure particle touched the ground where Sylphie had suffered.

A sacral silence fell over the field.

Kael stood still, his hands trembling not from exhaustion, but from restraint. The fury inside him was like an ocean crashing against an old dyke.

He knew where they were. He knew who the enemy was.

He knew that now there were no more limits.

Kael raised his eyes to the sky. His presence made the clouds drift away. Lightning struck dozens of meters away, drawn by something beyond reason.

"Varkhellion."

The name came out like muffled thunder. Like the final sentence of a god.

"You'll wish I'd never found out your name." Kael's voice wasn't a shout. It was a whisper laden with curses.

His eyes, still tinged by the abyss, burned with something other than fury: conviction.

Then he stretched out his arm.

The aura that rested silently under his skin exploded like a black and gold tide, taking over the skies of Azalith. Like hungry roots, it spread throughout the academy - penetrating every fold of the magical veil, crossing every building. An invisible but unavoidable touch.

'I can finally use a lot of those spells I learned back then. Kael murmured as his mana expanded to completely cover his surroundings.

Searching. Sniffing. Hunting.

"Irelia... Amelia... where?" He looked for her auras again, her magical signature.

And then...

He disappeared.

Yes, teleportation.

Kael tore through space-time.

The air screamed around him as his presence vanished from one point - and collided violently into another.

He appeared in front of Exelia, who jerked back, her military instinct barely contained.

She was holding Amelia in her arms.

The girl was passed out.

But not asleep.

Amelia's body was covered in marks of dark magic: black veins running up her neck, pulsing like worms of corrupted energy. Her half-closed eyes trembled, but there was no focus in them. A mental sealing spell, dense and cruel. His breathing was weak, irregular.

Exelia, normally as cold as tempered steel, looked at Kael with faltering eyes. There was something you rarely saw in her: hesitation.

"Kael..." she began, "they were performing a ritual. I've reached the end. She's still alive... but she's not whole."

Kael didn't answer.

His eyes focused only on Amelia.

The shadows around him twitched, as if they wanted to touch the girl - but they pulled back.

He moved closer. One step. Two. With each step, the ground groaned.

Then he knelt down.

He put his hand on the girl's forehead. He closed his eyes.

Silence.

For three seconds.

And then he saw.

Fragments of the ritual, engraved like scars on her soul. Arcane circles. Chains of black ether. A symbol burning in blue flames. Laughter. Screams. The smell of sulphur and the golden eyes of a man in a purple cloak, watching it all.

Kael turned away as if he had been burned. His eyes wide, pupils pulsing.

"They weren't just trying to corrupt her," his voice was almost inaudible. "They were trying to... transform her."

Exelia clenched her fists. "And Irelia?"

Kael was silent.

For a moment, nothing existed.

Then he stood up.

And the ground beneath his feet cracked.

"Stay with Amelia. Take care of her. Protect her with your life. She's not in mortal danger, so take her to the nurses and other doctors of Azalith." He said seriously.

"I said..." he turned his face slowly. His eyes were abysses where no stars shone. "...Stay."

Kael's aura pulsed again. But now, it was different. Focused. Precise.

He wasn't looking anymore.

He knew.

Where Irelia was.

Where the ritual continued.

Where those responsible were waiting for him.

With a simple snap of his fingers, Kael summoned the energy he needed to leave - not like a desperate man, but like a judgment walking to the altar of punishment.

Before disappearing, he spoke, not to Exelia - but to the world: "Now... it will be the end of an entire kingdom."

Space folded.

The air sizzled, and with a dry crack like choked thunder, Kael appeared on the battlefield.

The setting was a ritualistic circle of dark stone, built in the heart of an ancient crypt, deep beneath the land of Azalith. The runes on the floor were still smoking with the heat of the recent invocation. Hooded figures were scattered across the field, shrouded in dense shadows, attacking without mercy. The smell of blood, burnt magic and sweat permeated the air.

There were Azalith teachers there - four of them. They fought like cornered lions, surrounded by seven cult members.

One of them, the Archdemon of Golems, Master Valric, lay on the ground with half his chest open. Another, Master Silana of Runic Theories, was casting defensive spells in a desperate sequence, conjuring shields like unstable crystal walls. They were on the verge of collapse.

Irelia, tied to an obelisk in the center of the ritual, floated a few meters off the ground. Streams of black mana surrounded her, draining her. Her skin was pale. Her eyes were closed. But her chest still rose and fell with difficulty.

Kael saw it all... in half a second.

His eyes passed over the cultists. The altar. The teachers. Irelia.

And something inside him broke.

Not a fragile part. But a lock.

A prison.

The seal that still kept him human.

His feet touched the ground without a sound, but everyone's eyes turned away instantly.

Because the air became too heavy to breathe.

"It's... him." muttered one of the cultists, his voice trembling. "The heir..."

Kael raised his head.

And then he spoke - and his voice seemed to echo inside the chests of everyone present, as if it were being spoken from within their souls.

"You... hurt her."

The sentence was said without shouting. Without drama.

But his eyes... burned.

Like two collapsing black stars.

"And you... will pay for it."

The first cultist stepped forward. A fool.

He brandished a cursed staff, conjuring a storm of corrupted ether blades.

Kael didn't move.

The blades came within an inch of his body... and shattered in the air, imploding like dust sucked into an invisible vacuum.

"Q-what...?"

Kael held out his hand. He made no gesture. He didn't conjure a rune. He just wanted to.

The cultist's body exploded backwards, smashing against the stone wall with such force that his bones were pulverized.

The others hesitated. For a second. Just a second.

But it was enough.

Kael moved.

Not like a warrior.

Not like a wizard.

But as a primary force of reality.

He appeared in front of another cultist - and touched his throat with a finger. The man froze, wide-eyed. And then he began to disintegrate from the inside out, turning to black dust, trying to scream, but with no mouth.

Two others tried to conjure a barrier together - but Kael just looked at them, and the magic melted in their hands, burning them alive with their own ebb and flow of mana.

Master Silana stopped casting, wide-eyed, trembling.

"He... he's not channeling." she whispered. "He doesn't conjure. He just... does."

Another teacher fell to his knees.

"It's not magic anymore. That's..."

"Brute will." completed the last of them. "He's become an entity."

The last two cultists ran.

A gesture.

Two arcane circles appeared beneath their feet.

Ethereal claws grabbed them by the legs.

Kael walked. Slowly. Like death coming.

He stared at them - and asked:

"Who was the leader?"

"We don't know!" whimpered one of them, dragging himself along, trying to break the magical prison. "We only take orders! We swore allegiance, but we never saw his face!"

Kael looked at the other, who was crying, teeth clenched.

"He... had golden eyes." he whispered. "Always hidden under a veil. He called himself... Augur. The Prophet. He said that Azalith would fall, and that his star would die first. It was the girl. The star."

Kael's eyes shone like ebony spears.

"Sylphie."

And then he tortured them both.

Not with blades.

Not with fire.

But with his mind.

Kael reached out - and invaded the souls of the two men, opening up every memory, unfolding every thought, like a cruel librarian turning pages with claws. They screamed. And screamed. And they kept shouting. Until their voices didn't come out anymore.

And then they were still.

Not dead.

But empty.

Without identity.

No memories.

Carcasses.

Kael turned around.

He crossed the field.

He walked to the obelisk, where Irelia was floating.

The chains still pulsed. But with a single gesture, they went up in smoke.

He held her carefully, as if touching glass.

She was light. Fragile. But alive.

The teachers watched him - not daring to speak. Not daring to move.

Kael looked up, at the ceiling of the chamber, and sensed where the leader was. Where that "Augur" was hiding.

"I think I'm going to kill them all." Kael spoke and all the cultists' bodies simply exploded. "You useless bastards," Kael said to the teachers, "start killing, what are you teachers for? Protect the students, you disgusting scum." He spoke before teleporting away.

He now had clear objectives. Two Names.