Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls
Chapter 226 226: Strange

The crash of light cast by Exelia still reverberated off the walls when Kael stood up straight, his eyes fixed on the creatures emerging from the forest. The darkness no longer hid anything—not anymore. The grotesque bodies emerged with calculated slowness, as if savoring the terror they left behind. But Kael did not wait.

In one swift, fluid motion, he drew the long sword strapped to his back, its darkened steel blade sliding out with a metallic clang. Exelia also drew her weapon—a curved, swift blade, forged to cut with precision rather than force. Liora, still shaken, gripped the hilt of her short sword, trembling but determined.

"Triple formation," Kael said firmly. "I'll hold the center. Exelia on the left. Liora, you cover our flank."

The creatures began to advance more quickly, as if the proximity of combat excited them. No sound, no battle cry. Only the sound of heavy bodies tearing through the vegetation, crushing the flowers of the hanging gardens, like a silent avalanche.

Kael did not wait for them to arrive.

He advanced.

The first enemy tried to strike him with one of its black claws, long as a scythe. Kael ducked in a spin, feeling the wind from the attack pass over his head, and in one continuous motion, he raised his sword in a vertical cut that pierced the creature's torso from top to bottom. The thing's flesh was hard, almost stone-like, but the blade penetrated with the harsh sound of stone breaking. The creature shuddered and collapsed with a dry sound.

Beside him, Exelia was pure movement. She dodged with short, precise turns, her cloak fluttering with each evasion, and counterattacked with quick cuts, aiming for the creatures' joints and articulation points. One of them tried to grab her with both arms, but she jumped over the freak's shoulder, spinning in the air and burying her blade in the base of the creature's skull before landing on her feet, light as a cat.

Liora took a little longer to get into the rhythm. Her first blow was hesitant, barely scratching the skin of the creature she faced. But when the second charge came, with a deep roar and misshapen arms trying to crush her, she screamed and counterattacked with a precise sideways slash, opening the creature's side from hip to shoulder. Thick, black blood spurted like paint, and the creature fell.

The air in the garden already smelled of rotten blood, and the ground was beginning to be covered with deformed bodies.

Kael took two steps back, just enough to breathe, wiping the blade on a fold of his cloak. Ten more were coming down the stone path. With each passing moment, the horde grew.

"Retreat to the bridge!" he shouted. "Chokepoint!"

Exelia nodded and pulled Liora by the shoulder. The young woman hesitated, but ran with them.

The arched stone bridge connecting the inner gardens to the outer courtyard was narrow and flanked by low railings. The perfect place to contain a horde—where the creatures couldn't attack all at once.

Kael positioned himself in the center, sword in hand, standing firm like a living wall. Exelia and Liora stood behind him, ready to intervene and attack anything that tried to get around him.

The first creatures arrived, two at a time, forced to squeeze through the narrow passage. Kael struck the first one directly in the neck, piercing the weak spot between the shoulder and the skull. The second one advanced immediately and was impaled by the precise thrust he was already preparing. The weight of the bodies pushed the enemies against each other—making his task easier.

But it was exhausting.

A third threw himself onto the bridge in an almost suicidal manner, trying to push Kael back. He barely had time to dodge, and in the momentum, his sword got stuck in the enemy's body. Without wasting time, he dropped the weapon and drew a dagger from his waist. With two quick movements, he plunged the curved blade into the creature's neck and twisted it, separating the head from the body.

Before the next one could reach him, Exelia intercepted it with a sideways leap, burying her sword in the creature's flank and knocking it off the bridge with a kick to the chest.

Liora covered the right flank, swinging her short sword in defensive arcs, preventing any enemies from climbing up the sides of the bridge.

"We're losing ground!" she shouted, her voice breaking.

Kael retrieved his sword, pulling it from the corpse beneath his feet. "We can't hold on forever. We need to knock down part of the bridge!"

"You're right," said Exelia, her eyes scanning the stone structure.

She ran to the center of the bridge, stuck her sword between two slabs, and shouted to Kael, "Hold the edges!"

Kael and Liora wedged their blades into the cracks and pushed hard outward. The stones creaked. The cries of angry creatures grew louder behind them. With one last synchronized push, part of the bridge gave way—the side arch collapsed with a crash, taking several creatures with it.

Those behind them were forced to stop. Momentarily.

Kael fell to his knees, breathing heavily. He was covered in blood that wasn't his. Exelia was also panting, and Liora was trembling, her eyes fixed on the void before them.

The silence after the bridge collapsed was heavy, tense, as if the whole world were holding its breath.

Kael staggered to his feet and looked beyond the newly created chasm. The creatures were on the other side — some still trying to climb, others just watching. And among them, standing still, was a figure.

Tall. Hooded. But different from the others.

The figure walked calmly among the distorted creatures, and they, around him, recoiled as if paying him respect—or fear.

The armor it wore was a dark mixture of blackened leather and black iron plates, ornamented with bone fragments held together by thin silver strips. A heavy cloak, the color of wet shadow, trailed down to its ankles. When it lifted its hood, what was revealed was not a monster. It was a man.

Human. But the eyes...

Red as burning embers. Alive, but empty. Familiar emptiness.

Kael gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, his muscles taut as strings. He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on that face.

"You..." he murmured, unable to hide the resentment growing in his chest.

The man smiled. A serene, controlled smile—and therefore more threatening than any scream. Each syllable that left his lips seemed to tear something in the air around him, as if his voice had weight.

"We finally meet," he said.

Exelia approached slowly, her hand on the hilt of her sword. Liora, behind her, took a step back. The silence that fell was oppressive.

"Who are you?" Kael asked, his voice like a blade about to be unsheathed.

The stranger bowed his head slightly, almost like a gentleman, before replying with cruel serenity:

"A gardener. And I'm here to pull the weeds."

For a moment, the world seemed colder. Kael felt a chill run up his spine like liquid ice. It wasn't just provocation. It was a truth spoken with relish.

Exelia stepped forward, not taking her eyes off him.

"Is he responsible for all this?" whispered Liora behind them, her voice choked with fear.

"Not alone," Kael replied firmly. "But he is one of the drivers."

The man raised a single hand.

Immediately, the creatures stopped.

All of them.

As if obeying a single mind.

"Today, I will not kill you," he said, his voice low but clear as a blade scraping metal. "Today is only the beginning. Just a warning. You have seen the tip of what is to come. Elen'Thalas will fall. Aelirenne will fall with it. And when it falls... the forest will follow. Sylphie will be next."

Kael took another step forward. He was close enough to see every detail of those burning pupils. The man's face was smooth, without scars, but there was something deeply ancient about his posture. Something disturbing, without it being possible to explain why.

"Tell me your name," Kael demanded, his voice low and firm. "So that I can bury it."

For a moment, the man did not respond. He just watched Kael as if weighing his soul. Then he smiled—a slow smile, laden with something almost... paternal.

"My name doesn't matter," he said at last. "But if it helps you sleep tonight, you can call me Vareth."

The name fell like a stone on the floor. Heavy. Cold.

Kael engraved it as if carving it into the blade of his own memory.

"So, Vareth," he said, each word like a step toward the promise. "The next time we meet, you won't walk away."

Vareth raised an eyebrow slightly, mockingly. His smile became a thin line of disdain.

"We'll see."

And then, without another word, he turned and began to walk into the forest. The creatures parted silently around him, like a sea of shadows retreating before an emperor.

When he disappeared completely among the trees, the silence that remained was different.

It was not peace. It was the suspended breath of a world about to fall.

Kael did not move.