Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls
Chapter 225 225: Problems came back quickly

Hours later, Kael was in his new quarters in the palace of Elen'Thalas.

The room was luxurious, but not cozy. Elven tapestries embroidered with threads of light hung from the walls, and an enchanted fountain murmured softly in the corner, its waters shimmering in shades of sapphire. The tall windows offered a view of the hanging gardens—beautiful, perfect, but too still. As if frozen from within. The opulence was evident, but the feeling was that of a decorated tomb.

Kael removed his still-dirty cloak and threw it over an ornate chair. He crossed the room to a small marble table and filled a goblet with thick, sweet silver wine. He took a sip, then walked over to the darkened mirror on the wall.

He made a gesture with two fingers—and the reflection trembled.

A shadow appeared behind him, inside the mirror, like living smoke taking shape. Silver eyes opened in the darkness. Umbra.

"You took your time," Kael said, without turning around.

"You are surrounded by silk and gold. I was respecting the moment," Umbra replied, her voice soft and high-pitched, as if made of echoes and sighs.

Kael turned slowly, leaning against the table. "You felt it, didn't you?"

Umbra slid out of the mirror like smoke escaping from a bottle. Her form was slender and indistinct, with fragments of a silhouette that oscillated between feminine and androgynous. Silver eyes shone like headlights in a storm.

"Of course I felt it. This place pulses with veiled corruption. It hides beneath the stones, behind the tapestries. There is something... rotting behind this beauty."

Kael took another sip of wine. "Aelirenne seems determined to face it, but... everything here feels fake. Controlled. As if someone or something is trying to keep an illusion alive."

Umbra approached, her feet never touching the ground.

"Because it is. The palace itself is a focus of magical containment—ancient, powerful, but saturated. The walls are no longer protecting Elen'Thalas. They are imprisoning the worst within it."

Kael frowned. "Do you think the corruption has already reached the throne?"

Umbra was silent for a moment before replying:

"Aelirenne still shines like a full moon. But there are shadows on the walls of the throne. I see no darkness in her... but I see something trying to envelop her. Like tentacles of smoke trying to silence her judgment. Perhaps it is not she who is compromised. But those around her."

Kael closed his eyes for a second. He felt the weight of responsibility grow once more. "There are others who need to be watched. The Arcanists. The nobles of the inner circle. If any of them are compromised..."

"Not 'if any,' Kael," Umbra cut in. "Who."

Kael walked to the window and looked out at the glittering city below. The lights from the magical streetlamps flickered like fake stars. Everything seemed too quiet. Too far from what was real.

"What do you feel now?" Kael asked, without taking his eyes off the horizon.

Umbra approached, floating beside him like a living shadow.

"The same as you," she replied in a low, whispering voice. "Something is coming. Something crawls beneath the stones, like worms under marble. There is haste in the air. That kind of silent urgency that always precedes an attack."

Kael clenched his fist. "They know we're here."

Umbra watched him from the side, with that look that was neither quite human nor entirely spectral. Then she smiled—a smile that was as much affectionate as it was ironic.

"You know how these things are, Kael. But still... I don't fully understand why you came. You could have been far away from here. Training. Getting stronger. Instead, you threw yourself into the nest of elven vipers."

Kael slowly turned his face, meeting her silver eyes.

"Because it's better to pull out the root of the problem before it devours the entire forest," he replied firmly. "And as I suspected, the origin of all this—including what they did to Sylphie—is linked to the High Elves. They wanted her dead. Not for what she did, but for what she could become."

Umbra hovered in silence for a moment, then spoke in a more serious tone:

"You're trying to put out the fire before the spark turns into hell."

Kael nodded. "Exactly. If I eliminate those behind it all, perhaps the agreement with Yggdrazil will become... less turbulent. Less demanding. At least until Sylphie reaches a level where she no longer needs me as a shield."

Umbra slowly crossed her arms, as if wrapping herself in her own shadows. "You care more than you should."

Kael gave a slight, weary smile. "That's why I'm here. And not hidden away in some tower trying to find power in old books. Protecting her... maybe it's the only thing that still makes sense."

Umbra lowered her eyes for a brief moment before disappearing again, like smoke blown away by an invisible wind. Her voice, however, lingered in the air—soft, melancholic.

"Just don't forget that even roots can bleed, Kael. And some bite back."

Kael stood motionless for a moment, listening to the echo of Umbra's last words dissipate in the thin air of the room. The opulence of the palace could not hide the suffocating weight that pressed down on his chest.

Slowly, he turned to the window, his eyes fixed on the flickering lights of Elen'Thalas. Among the hanging gardens, shadows moved—not the shadows of the night, but those that no one wanted to see: intrigues, betrayals, shady pacts.

A cold sensation slid down his spine when the silence was broken by a distant sound: a warning bell, the sign that something was about to happen.

Kael clenched his fist, still tasting the bitter wine in his mouth. "The attack is about to begin," he muttered to himself.

Without hesitation, he put on his cloak again, this time with a determination that burned in his soul. Sylphie needed him. The forest needed him. And perhaps more than anything, he needed a chance to prevent the shadow that was creeping over Elen'Thalas from consuming everything.

Before leaving the room, he glanced one last time at the darkened mirror. One last promise—not of victory, but of struggle.

"To the end," Kael said softly.

A discreet but insistent knock broke the heavy silence of the room. Kael frowned, still absorbed in his thoughts, and walked to the door.

"Who's there?" he asked, his voice firm.

"It's me, Exelia," replied a soft voice, laden with restrained tension.

Kael unlocked the door and opened it. Exelia appeared in the doorway, wrapped in a dark cloak, her eyes shining with concern.

"May I come in?" she asked, almost in a whisper.

He gestured briefly, motioning her in. As soon as she entered, Kael closed the door behind her, the sound echoing through the room.

"What's wrong?" he asked, examining her face closely.

Exelia walked to the window, her eyes fixed on the distant lights of Elen'Thalas, as if trying to find strength in the landscape.

"I'm worried," she began, without looking away. "I saw strange figures prowling around the palace tonight. They weren't guards or nobles. They were stealthy, almost like shadows, watching everything from afar, with an unsettling attention."

Kael felt the weight of the threat tighten his chest even more.

"Strange people?" he asked, narrowing his eyes, trying to understand the gravity of the situation.

"Yes. Silent, but not ordinary. They seemed to know exactly where to be, as if waiting for something—or someone."

He took a deep breath, the flame of determination reigniting within him.

"They came for something... or someone," he murmured, his voice grave.

Exelia turned to him, her expression resolute.

"We need to prepare. This is bigger than we thought."

A sharp scream cut through the air, coming from outside the palace, breaking the tension that hung in the room like a sharp blade. Kael and Exelia looked at each other immediately, their hearts tightening at the familiarity of that sound.

"Liora!" Kael exclaimed, already moving toward the door.

Exelia stepped forward beside him, her expression tense and her eyes wide.

The scream repeated, desperate, coming from the hanging gardens. An echo of terror and urgency reverberated through the ancient walls.

Kael opened the door and the two ran through the ornate corridors, the tapestries swaying as if the palace itself were breathing in agony. They passed guards who merely looked surprised, unable to comprehend the gravity of the call.

Arriving at the gardens, the scene was chaotic. Liora was on the ground, trembling, her hands trying to ward off something invisible, her eyes wide with terror. Behind her, shadows crept through the flower beds, dark and distorted figures that seemed to be made of smoke and stone, advancing slowly, like silent predators.

Kael stepped forward, reaching out to Liora.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern.

She could barely speak, gasping for breath.

"They... they came from the woods. They're... they're not human. They're here to attack," she murmured, the words coming out in sobs.

Kael looked in the direction Liora was pointing, his gaze narrow and his jaw clenched. The air around him seemed to grow heavy for a moment—and then rarefy, as if time were holding its breath. He closed his eyes, felt the ground beneath his feet, the ancient whisper of magic in the elven stones. He extended his right arm, palm forward, and pulled the air with his other hand as if opening an invisible curtain.

Kael's aura expanded.

It was like a silent explosion. Waves of dark golden energy, speckled with blue flames, spread like a ring of fire, sweeping across the garden with an almost unnatural glow. The leaves trembled. The fountains flickered. The shadows themselves hesitated.

And then he saw them.

More than a hundred figures emerged from the woods beyond the palace walls—creatures that seemed to be a fusion of flesh, mist, and blackened stone. As tall as an elf, but hunched, with arms too long and eyes without irises, just milky white globes. Some had spikes protruding from their backs. Others had mouths where there should have been none.

"By the Circle..." Exelia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "They've already crossed the barriers."

Kael kept his hand outstretched, feeling the crushing weight of the enemy's presence. The forest was being corrupted — not just touched by dark magic, but subjugated by it. This was no simple attack. It was a coordinated advance. A statement.

"These are no ordinary invaders," he said, turning partially toward Exelia. "They are being guided. Someone brought them here."

Liora groaned on the ground, still shaken. Kael knelt beside her, placing a hand on her forehead. A breath of restorative energy passed through his fingers. It wasn't a complete cure, but it was enough to calm the panic in her mind.

"You did well to scream. You saved lives tonight," he said softly.

Liora blinked hard, trying to nod.

Exelia raised her arm, conjuring a sphere of purifying light, and threw it upward. It exploded like a beacon in the night sky, a signal to the palace's defenders.

"Aelirenne needs to know immediately," she said.

Kael stood, his eyes fixed on the enemies approaching with heavy, ominous footsteps. Around him, the air seemed to vibrate in response to his aura—a storm about to break free.

"She will know," he replied. "But first... let's hold them here."