Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

The road seemed narrower that morning, as if the world around them were closing in on them. The group moved forward in silence, figures shrouded in black, hooded cloaks, masks obscuring half their faces. The soft gold of the rising sun couldn't break the oppressive aura emanating from them—ordinary travelers would never wear disguises so steeped in mystery. But that was the intention: to appear unremarkable. To become strange enough that no one dared ask questions.

Kael walked ahead, the wind rustling his cloak. His amber eyes, exposed above his mask, were like live coals, attentive to every detail of the road. His every step was firm, measured, charged with tension. Behind, Sylphie moved with an almost supernatural lightness—her feet seemed to be free of the packed earth, and her hood fell over her silver hair like a veil of shadow. Irelia walked more rigidly, her hand constantly close to the hilt of her sword, her eyes scanning the horizon uneasily. Amelia brought up the rear, arms relaxed behind her head, feigning carelessness. But Kael, from the cadence of her steps, knew she was as alert as he was.

The silence was almost suffocating. Only the rustle of grass in the wind and the distant cawing of crows broke the monotony. The world seemed vast and, at the same time, claustrophobic: every bend in the road, every isolated tree could hide a lurking enemy.

It was Amelia who first broke the weight of the march. Her voice was muffled by the mask, but with the same irreverent tone as always:

"It feels like we're in a procession of ghosts."

Kael didn't slow his pace. "That's the idea."

Irelia snorted, lifting her chin as if the mask didn't exist. "I don't know if I like it. Hiding my face makes me feel like a criminal."

"You don't like it because you can't parade around with that air of nobility," Amelia retorted, a smile perceptible even behind her mask.

Irelia's gaze flashed, hard, and she turned her head to face the other. "I'd rather be recognized for what we are than crawl like cowards."

It was at that moment that Kael stopped abruptly. The three of them nearly collided with him. The silence of the road was swallowed by the gravity of his presence as he turned. His amber gaze, icy and implacable, met Irelia's.

"Listen well." His voice didn't need to be loud; the cold firmness was enough to silence them all. "What kills most travelers is not blades, but vanity. You want to be noticed? Then be ready to die on the road. And not just you—all of us with you."

Those words cut like unsheathed steel. Even the wind seemed to cease. Irelia swallowed hard, her fists clenching beneath her cloak. She didn't answer—there was no way.

Kael held her gaze for a few seconds, until he was sure the message had been understood. Then he turned on his heel and started walking again.

Sylphie broke the silence with a calm, almost hesitant voice:

"He's right, Irelia... What we carry is bigger than ourselves. We can't afford to be careless."

Irelia didn't reply. But her steps became more measured, her posture less defiant. The pride was still there, throbbing beneath her skin, but the weight of Kael's words had put her in her place.

Amelia sighed, staring at them both as if watching a storm pass. "You two are so dramatic... It almost feels like we're going to an execution."

"Maybe we are," Kael murmured without looking back.

And silence fell back on the road.

The day crept along. The merciless sun climbed the sky until it settled into a nearly cloudless blue. The heat made the journey even more exhausting, and the masks weighed like burdens. Their stifled breathing made the air seem thicker, and sweat trickled down their temples, sticking the fabric to their faces. Each step felt heavier than the last.

The plains fell away, giving way to a road that narrowed between gentle hills and sparse woods. The damp scent of pine and earth freshly warmed by the sun enveloped the air, blending freshness and density. The trees cast long, irregular shadows across the path, and each gust of wind made the branches creak, as if whispering secrets to one another.

A distant crack echoed—just a twig snapping under the weight of the wind—but Irelia had already reached for her sword, her eyes flashing with alertness.

Kael, leading the way, maintained the same measured pace. His posture seemed unwavering, but the constant movement of his eyes betrayed his attentive vigilance. He absorbed every detail of the path, every shadow, every sound.

"Are we close?" Amelia finally asked, her voice thick with impatience and muffled by the cloth of her mask.

Kael replied without taking his eyes off the road:

"A whole day's march still."

Her frustration came in a dramatic sigh. "So we have another twenty hours of this funeral procession... how delightful."

Sylphie couldn't help but laugh, softly, almost crystal clear beneath the cloth covering her mouth. "Maybe it's for the best. The less we say, the less we attract attention."

"Or maybe we'll go crazy before we get there," Amelia retorted, chuckling to herself at her own observation.

Irelia gave a stern look from beneath her hood, but Kael didn't bother to respond. He simply continued walking, as if he were an extension of the road itself—inevitable, straight, always forward.

At dusk, the road opened onto a small stone bridge that crossed a narrow stream. The water ran clear, shimmering in the golden light, and the constant murmur brought a subtle relief to the tension that had plagued them since morning. The group stopped instinctively, as if the sound were an invitation to rest.

Kael raised his hand, the gesture firm and curt.

"We'll stop here for an hour." His voice carried the same authority as always, impossible to question.

They settled in the shade of a nearby tree. Amelia was the first to drop her pack, sighing with relief. She took out the leather waterskin and drank long gulps before passing it to Sylphie, who received it silently and drank sparingly. Irelia remained standing, arms crossed, her gaze lost on the horizon as if searching for invisible enemies.

Kael, on the other hand, didn't stop. With his sword at his waist, he walked in circles around the perimeter, his eyes trained on the ground, the marks on the trees, the watercourse. Every detail seemed to pass through his sieve—footprints, broken branches, even the direction of leaves blowing in the wind.

Sylphie, after observing him in silence for long minutes, finally asked:

"You never trust anywhere, do you?"

Kael stopped moving and stared at her. His amber eyes reflected the twilight.

"Places don't worry me. People do."

Amelia let out a muffled laugh, leaning her head back against the tree.

"That was almost poetic... if it weren't so depressing."

Kael didn't answer. Irelia remained silent too, but her gaze followed his every step for far too long, as if trying to understand something he would never put into words.

Night fell quickly, dyeing the sky a deep blue. Stars lit up slowly, dotting the darkness like diamond dust scattered by divine hands. The group set up a simple camp, without a fire, just their cloaks pulled tightly around their shoulders to brave the gathering cold. The silence of the night was filled with the rhythmic sound of crickets and, in the distance, the solitary howl of wolves.

Lying close together, each sought rest in their own way. Amelia murmured something indistinct, already half asleep. Sylphie remained still, though her pale eyes gleamed open beneath her hood. Irelia rested on her side, but the rigidity of her posture betrayed that she, too, was awake.

Kael, however, remained seated. His back leaned against the tree, his wooden sword resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on the darkness. His body seemed immobile, but his senses worked tirelessly.

Unable to contain herself, Sylphie whispered,

"Kael… why do you always insist on keeping watch alone?"

He was slow to answer. The wind blew through the trees, making the leaves tremble as if they were whispering voices.

"Because I don't trust anyone else for this," he finally said, his voice deep, calm, but heavy.

Amelia, half-awake, murmured slowly,

"Do you trust us so little…?"

Kael raised his eyes to the stars, as if searching for an answer above, and his expression hardened even further.

"Trust has nothing to do with it." His voice was low but firm. "I just can't afford to rest."

The words fell like stones into the silence. No one dared respond. Even Amelia, already nearly asleep, fell silent. The weight of those words echoed deeper than any distant howl.

Eventually, the group fell asleep in fragments of restless dreams. But Kael remained awake, as if part of the night—a shadow among shadows, doomed never to let his guard down.

...

The next dawn brought a biting cold. Everyone rose, tired but ready to continue. Masks returned to their faces, and the march continued.

Now, the road led them through a denser forest. The sun's rays barely penetrated the treetops, and the constant gloom created an oppressive atmosphere. Every sound seemed amplified: the hooting of owls, the snapping of twigs, the rustling of leaves.

Kael raised his hand, signaling for them to stop. The group froze. Their eyes scanned the ground ahead, where fresh marks interrupted the moss. Human footprints.

"They passed this way recently." His voice was low but sharp. "If they're merchants, there's no danger. If they're bounty hunters..." He didn't need to finish.

Sylphie pulled her hood tighter. Amelia craned her neck, curious, but not daring to speak loudly. Irelia, on the other hand, placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, her eyes fixed on the path ahead.

Kael signaled for them to proceed in silence. Now, each step was measured, each breath held. The weight of the possibility of ambush hung over them.

For long minutes, they advanced like this. But nothing appeared. Only the silence of the forest.

When the woods finally began to lighten, Kael slowed his pace. An open field stretched out before them, and in the distance, on the slopes of a hill, an ancient, ruined watchtower could be seen.

He stopped and pointed.

"That's the meeting point."

The three of them followed his gaze. The tower looked like a broken tooth raised against the sky, solitary and imposing despite its decay.

Amelia arched an eyebrow. "What a pleasant place to arrange a meeting. Nothing suspicious."

Kael ignored her.

"From now on, stay alert. If it's a trap, we won't have a second chance."

The group advanced slowly across the field, their black cloaks fluttering in the wind. The sound of each of their hearts seemed to echo louder than the rustling of the grass beneath their feet.

As they approached the tower, the silence became almost unbearable. There was no sign of life, only moss-covered stones and the wind whistling through the cracks.

Kael raised his hand, ordering them to halt. His eyes scanned every shadow, every possible ambush point. Then he took the first step forward.

The encounter was about to begin.