Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

The smell of freshly baked bread and boiling broth filled the air of the Raven Inn, mingling with the lingering aroma of charred wood and dust—still lingering remnants of the second floor's destruction. Raven, as always, dealt with the catastrophe practically and directly: she repaired the walls with her magic, reinforced the beams, and decreed that, since Irelia and Sazhara were partially responsible for the damage, they would both serve as waitresses until their debt was paid off.

Which meant that, this morning, Kael was bent over a table, cloth in hand, wiping glasses and wooden boards with an efficiency that bordered on tedious.

Not that he minded all that much—after battling monsters, gods, and the System itself, scrubbing tables seemed therapeutic. But still, there was an air of irony in seeing the "legendary swordsman" acting as a tavern hand.

From the counter, Raven watched silently. Her scarlet eyes, always half-closed in a mixture of calculation and boredom, followed Kael with discreet interest.

After a few moments, she broke the silence:

"Kael," she called, her voice drawling but firm.

He stopped cleaning, setting the cloth on the edge of the table.

He turned to face her, his amber eyes glinting in the candlelight.

"What is it?" he asked unhurriedly.

Raven rested her chin on her hand, leaning against the counter. A subtle smile curved her lips, the kind that never boded well.

"I want to ask you something."

Kael arched an eyebrow.

He didn't answer immediately, just crossed his arms, waiting for her to elaborate.

She had learned that Raven rarely spoke without a reason—and when she said "ask you something," it was best to prepare for the worst.

Raven blinked slowly, like an owl sizing up its prey.

"I want to hire you."

Kael showed no surprise. Nor interest.

His gaze only narrowed slightly, and he draped the cloth over his shoulder like a makeshift apron.

"And what exactly do you want to hire?" he asked, his tone thick with disdain. "Because if it's waiting tables, I'm already busy."

Her smile widened slightly.

"Not just you," she said, ignoring the sarcasm. "I want to hire you, Irelia, Amelia, Sylphie… and even Sazhara."

Kael blinked once.

The corner of his mouth curved into a skeptical half-smile.

"…That doesn't sound good at all," he murmured.

Raven didn't deny it.

She straightened, her fingers drumming on the counter in a rhythmic rhythm, as if savoring her own anticipation.

"You're escorting a princess."

The words fell on the tavern's thick air like a bucket of cold water.

Kael blinked again. For a few seconds, he just stood there, his amber eyes fixed on her, as if processing the absurdity of it.

Then, slowly, he let out a deep sigh and rubbed his face with his hand.

"...Of course," he muttered, almost to himself. "Of course that would be it."

He dropped the cloth on the table and stared at Raven with a blank stare, devoid of any enthusiasm.

"And why, exactly, should I take a job like that?" he asked, his voice thick with boredom. "Princesses are walking problems. They're easy targets, they have too many enemies, and someone will invariably try to kill me in the process."

Raven leaned her elbow on the counter and smiled with that venomous charm only she possessed.

"Because the reward is too good to refuse."

Kael snorted.

"Money? I don't need it."

"Connections, then." Raven retorted, still smiling. "That contract came straight from the court. A job like that opens doors."

Kael tilted his head to the side, studying her.

"And you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "Since when is Raven, the shadow queen of her own tavern, interested in doing favors for the court?"

She laughed softly, the sound low and almost seductive.

"I'm not interested in the court. I'm interested in what I can gain from it," she replied bluntly. "But to seize this opportunity, I need a trustworthy group. And, believe me, after what I've seen... you're the most trustworthy I have."

Kael let out a dry laugh.

"Trustworthy?" he repeated, incredulous. "You just saw Irelia and Sazhara destroy the upstairs of your tavern."

Raven shrugged, as if that were just a detail.

"Trustworthy in what matters," she retorted. "When it's time to fight, I know none of you run away."

Kael stared at her for a few seconds in silence.

She wasn't wrong.

From upstairs, a soft rumble echoed, followed by Sazhara's muffled voice complaining and Irelia's grumbling in response.

Kael sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"...And when would this 'real work' be?" he asked reluctantly.

"In three days," Raven replied without hesitation. "The princess will arrive in disguise in the city, and you must escort her safely to the eastern border."

Kael narrowed his eyes.

"Which princess?"

Raven hesitated for a moment—a rare occurrence. Then, his lips curved into a smile that blended defiance and amusement.

"I'll only tell you that if you accept."

Kael snorted loudly, disbelief written all over his face.

"...Unbelievable. You expect me to drag three girls—a delaas, the elven princess, and a chaotic succubus—to escort a mysterious princess, without even knowing who she is?"

"Exactly," Raven replied matter-of-factly, as if offering a glass of water.

Kael rubbed his face again, feeling a headache coming on. The System, as if to make matters worse, flashed discreetly before his eyes:

[Available Quest: "The Mysterious Princess's Escort"]

[Reward: ???]

[Hidden Reward: ???]

[Failure Penalty: Catastrophic]

Kael froze.

His amber gaze shone with an irritation that was almost comical.

"…'Catastrophic'?" he muttered softly to himself. "This System really wants to bury me."

Raven arched an eyebrow, intrigued by the murmur, but didn't ask.

She simply leaned closer to the counter.

"So?" she teased. "Are you going to accept it or not?"

Kael remained silent. Part of him wanted to simply get up, walk out the door, and never look back. But another part—the stubborn part, which the System seemed to manipulate like a puppet master—knew there was no escape.

He took a deep breath and crossed his arms.

"I'll talk to the others," he said finally, his voice slurred. "But if this princess causes us half the headache I'm anticipating… you'll pay double."

Raven's smile widened triumphantly.

"Deal."

Upstairs, another crash echoed, louder this time, shaking the tavern's rafters.

Kael closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as if praying to the heavens for patience.

"…And I'll still have to convince these three," he muttered, defeated.

Raven just chuckled, satisfied, as she went back to organizing glasses behind the bar.

Kael picked up the cloth again and resumed wiping the table, his gaze lost in space.

Escorting a princess.

With Irelia, Amelia, Sylphie… and Sazhara.

"…This is going to be a disaster," he concluded quietly.

The System, as if mocking him, blinked one last time:

[Mission Accepted.]

Kael closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

There was no escape.

…

The morning wind blew steadily through the narrow towers of the secondary palace, a hidden refuge on the outskirts of the capital. There, far from the gilded ostentation of the court, silence reigned—interrupted only by the rhythmic sound of small boots crossing the inner courtyard.

The young princess walked alone, her delicate hands clasped behind her back, her posture erect as if she were a living statue. There was something in her face that belied her youth: a calculated rigidity, as if every movement were studied. Even her steps—restrained, firm—recalled the rhythm of a soldier on the march.

The stone walls, still damp from the night's dew, reflected the pale glow of dawn. Two guards accompanied her at a distance, attentive, but not daring to break the silence. The order was clear: not to disturb the princess in her moments of introspection. She always demanded it, even when she didn't say it aloud.

Yet, behind that impeccable discipline, there were subtle signs of something greater. The way her fingers would sometimes twitch, as if holding an invisible sword. The way her eyes—large and intensely colored, almost glassy—scanned everything around her as if searching for flaws, points of attack, avenues of escape.

The princess wasn't just serious.

She was too attentive.

She stopped before the courtyard's central fountain, where the crystal-clear water reflected her young face. The surface cracked in the wind, distorting her image into ripples. She took a deep breath, adjusting the simple cape that covered her traveling dress—none of the regal pomp she usually wore.

There, without crowns, without jewels, she looked more like a traveler than someone born to the throne. But the rigidity in her shoulders left no doubt: she knew who she was.

"Your Highness." a low voice called behind her.

The princess didn't turn around. She simply lifted her chin, looking at her reflection in the water.

"What is it?" she asked, her tone too cold for someone so young.

One of the guards approached, bowing. His helmet creaked with discomfort, as if even the soldier had difficulty speaking in such a presence.

"Lady Raven confirmed it," he said firmly. "The group has already been contacted. They should arrive in three days."

The princess's gaze didn't change. No flicker of relief, no flicker of anxiety. Just a slight flicker, as if she'd already expected this news.

"I see," he replied.

He paused for a long time. The fountain water continued to dance, illuminated by the rising sun.

"And... are they trustworthy?" he asked finally, his voice carrying a maturity that belied his age.

The guard hesitated. He glanced sideways, as if searching for a more certain answer than he had.

"Trustworthy enough for Raven to bet on them," he said finally.

The princess closed her eyes for a moment. A soft sigh escaped her lips—not of impatience, but of weariness. Like someone carrying more than they should.

"Then that's enough," she murmured.

The second guard, who until then had remained as still as a shadow, took a step forward. His voice was grave, but also worried:

"Your Highness... isn't it too dangerous to trust foreigners? Especially at this moment?"

She opened her eyes. She turned, facing the soldier head-on. Her gaze was intense, hard, like the cold steel of a blade.

"It would be dangerous not to act," she replied without hesitation. "You know as well as I do: the court is full of eyes, ears... and hidden knives."

Those words, spoken so clearly, sounded too heavy coming from someone her age. But there was no tremor in her voice. No doubt.

The guard lowered his head, overcome by her determination.

The princess approached the edge of the fountain and touched the surface of the water with her fingertips. The ripples spread, distorting the reflection of the towers, the walls, even her own.

"If I must risk it… I prefer it to be outside these walls," she said softly.

For a moment, the serious mask wavered. Her eyes, reflected in the water, revealed something deeper: a silent heaviness, a suppressed sadness. But it lasted only a second. Soon, the rigidity returned.

She stepped away from the fountain and adjusted her cloak again.

"Get everything ready," she ordered, resuming her firm posture. "In three days, we will depart."