Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

The wind seemed colder here, before the ruined tower. Every stone worn by time exuded forgotten stories of past wars, of watchmen who never returned. The sky, tinged with gray, made the scene even more ominous.

Kael stood motionless at the head of the group, studying every detail of the building. The tower, though deteriorated, still stood firm against the horizon, a solitary sentinel in a sea of ​​silence. No movement. No sound other than the rustling of the grass.

Sylphie, almost voiceless, whispered:

"Are you sure this is it?"

"Absolutely," Kael replied dryly. His amber eyes never left the tower.

It was then that the sound arrived. First a soft noise, like the rhythmic pounding of hooves against the earth. Then the creaking of wheels, muffled by the distance. The group immediately stiffened, hands close to weapons, bodies tense.

From the winding road that skirted the hill, a small covered carriage emerged, drawn by two white horses. The contrast was stark: amid the decay of the tower and the austerity of the landscape, the sight seemed out of place, almost ethereal.

The carriage approached slowly, with no visible guards in front or behind. Only the coachman, a man in dark clothes and a hunched posture, guided the animals with mechanical movements.

Amélia raised her eyebrows beneath her hood.

"Really? A princess, alone, in this remote place? It seems like the perfect beginning for a tragedy."

Irelia didn't comment. Her hand was already resting on the hilt of her sword, her eyes fixed on the approaching vehicle.

Kael, however, didn't move. He waited. He calculated each step of the horses, each sway of the carriage, until it stopped in front of them, a few meters away.

The coachman dismounted, opened the door, and walked away silently.

From it emerged a figure shrouded in pale veils, fluttering in the wind like swan wings. Her steps were firm, but there was a distinct melancholy in her posture. When the hood fell, a delicate face was revealed, with noble features and eyes that shone against the somber landscape.

She was unmistakable.

The princess.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Until Kael broke the silence, his voice thick with caution:

"Before we take any steps, I need to confirm. Is it really you who requested the escort?"

The young woman looked directly at him, her eyes like silent blades. After a moment of hesitation, she smiled discreetly but bitterly.

"Raven didn't fail in her promise, then. She said she would send competent people. And, from what I see, she kept it."

Kael kept his gaze fixed on her, steady as stone.

"Then there's no doubt. You're the one we should escort."

The princess nodded lightly. But before any relief could dawn upon the group, Kael narrowed his eyes and asked the inevitable question:

"Where are the soldiers who should be with you?"

Her smile faded, transforming into something dark.

"Dead."

The word sounded like a sharp blow.

Silence fell heavily between them. Amelia arched her eyebrows in disbelief. Sylphie lowered her gaze, sensing the gravity of the revelation. Irelia tightened her grip on her sword, as if expecting enemies to leap from the shadows at that moment.

Kael, however, was not surprised. His gaze merely narrowed, as if that answer were confirmation of an old premonition.

"How did it happen?"

The princess looked up at the tower, as if the shattered stones still held the echo of the massacre. Her voice was calm, but laced with bitterness.

"They tried to protect me. They fought to the end." But the enemy knew who I was, knew where we would be. I had no choice but to flee. This carriage is all that's left.

"And the coachman?" Kael asked, casting a cold glance at the motionless man near the horses.

"A faithful servant. The only one who survived." There was sadness in his words, but also a strange harshness.

Amélia shook her head in disbelief.

"So, we're here to protect someone who's already lost his entire royal guard. Sounds promising."

Sylphie gave him a reprimanding look but said nothing.

Kael stepped forward, approaching the princess. His presence was like a wall—steady, unshakable.

"If it's true, and I believe you, then the situation is even more dangerous than we expected. That means there are hunters on the loose, tracking your every move."

"Yes," she answered without hesitation. "They won't stop. Not while I'm alive."

The wind blew between them, bringing the scent of distant iron—perhaps just an illusion, or perhaps the ghost of the recent battle.

Kael turned to the group.

"From now on, there is no rest. There is no carelessness. Our mission begins here."

Irelia gritted her teeth but remained silent. Amelia sighed, raising her hands as if surrendering to fate. Sylphie merely adjusted her hood, her eyes shining with concern.

The princess, for her part, watched them silently, as if weighing each of them on her own scale. There was something in her gaze—something Kael noticed but didn't comment on. It wasn't just fear. It was also determination.

He turned to her again.

"Before we continue, I need to hear it from you. What exactly is the destination?"

The young woman lifted her chin, as if remembering the weight of her position.

"The Academy of Azalith. That's where I must reach. Only there will I be safe."

a blade suspended, threatening to fall upon them all.

The Academy of Azalith.

Kael blinked slowly, and for the first time since their encounter, his mask of indifference faltered. Irelia, who had remained rigid until then, widened her eyes. Amelia let out a nervous, incredulous laugh. Sylphie simply stood still, but the almost imperceptible tremor in her hands betrayed her surprise.

The princess raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Why are they looking at me like that?"

Amelia was the first to react, as always.

"You just said 'Azalith' as ​​if it were the simplest thing in the world." She gestured exaggeratedly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do you really expect us to not react?"

Irelia glared at her, but couldn't form a word.

Kael took a deep breath, letting out a heavy sigh. For a moment, it seemed as if he might question the princess's sanity. His lips parted, but he stopped the words before they could come out. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, assessing her as if searching for weakness in her conviction.

"Are you absolutely certain it's Azalith?"

"Absolutely," she replied without hesitation. Her eyes didn't waver. "That's where I should go."

Silence reigned again.

Kael shifted his gaze to his three companions, and the gesture was enough. None of them needed to speak. They understood immediately.

Because everyone there—Kael, Irelia, Amelia, and Sylphie—carried the same past.

Until recently, they too were students at Azalith Academy.

…

The central tower of Azalith Academy rose against the gray afternoon sky, shrouded in clouds that seemed to gather over its black stone walls. The wind made the institution's banners flap rhythmically, bearing the symbol of the white flame—a symbol of knowledge, vigilance, and power.

Inside the headmaster's office, the atmosphere was silent except for the crackling of the fireplace. Ancient books lined the shelves to the ceiling, and a massive stained-glass window cast golden light onto the navy carpet.

Headmaster Altharion stood before this window. Tall, with silver hair that fell in disciplined strands over his shoulders and eyes of an almost unearthly gold, he exuded the presence of someone who didn't need to raise his voice to assert authority.

Before him, kneeling respectfully, was Lyra, the vice-headmaster and the academy's disciplinarian. Her braided brown hair and impeccable uniform conveyed both rigidity and a serenity that well hid the weariness of exhausting weeks.

"So it's true," Altharion said, his deep voice filling the room like distant thunder. "The princess will come to us."

Lyra looked up, surprised by the almost cold calm in his tone.

"Sir... does that really confirm it? Her presence in Azalith?"

Altharion closed his eyes for a moment, resting his hands behind his back.

"It's good to know that the three human kingdoms have finally decided to coexist." The gold in his eyes gleamed as he looked back at her. "Sending this princess isn't just a search for safety. It's a sign. A silent agreement."

Lyra frowned.

"An agreement that puts us in check, Headmaster. Since the raid incident, it hasn't been easy to calm the students..."

She stood up slowly, her voice firmer now. "Many still have nightmares about the invaders who breached our walls. There's distrust, fear... and some are beginning to question whether the academy is still a safe place. Bringing a princess here could reignite wounds that have barely begun to heal."

Althario remained silent, staring into the flames of the fireplace as if he could read the future.

"The incident..." he murmured, as if chewing on bitter memories. "A cruel reminder that our world has changed."

He walked slowly to the table strewn with documents, lightly touching an open map marked with runes and red lines.

"Still, Lyra, Azalith is the only place that can keep her alive. Whether she or we want it to be."

Lyra clenched her fists.

"What about the students? Many of them are still unstable. Others have lost loved ones. The balance is fragile. If they discover we're protecting a foreign princess, I don't know if we can contain the chaos."

Althario looked up seriously. "That's why you're here, Lyra." He inclined his head slightly, as if weighing the weight of his words. "To maintain discipline. To temper tempers. To prepare the ground."

Lyra hesitated, but nodded silently.

For a moment, the wind blew against the stained-glass windows, as if the world itself were reacting to their conversation.

Altharion then added, in a low, grave tone:

"The princess's arrival is only the beginning. What lies ahead… will test not only the students, but all of us."