Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

The entire field seemed to tremble with the clash of weapons. Blood already stained the earth as if a new macabre painting were being created before everyone's eyes. The sunset dyed the sky red, and the contrast with the agonized screams of the enemies transformed the place into a veritable hell.

Kael expected nothing less. His amber eyes glowed with flames as he launched himself at the next group.

The first bandit raised a makeshift wooden shield, trying to resist. Kael didn't stop. His sword pierced the shield like paper, ripping the man's arm clean through. The scream was cut short when Kael swung the blade and decapitated him in one swift motion. The head rolled across the ground, wide eyes frozen in terror.

"Next!" Kael roared, spitting blood and dust.

Two came together, one from each side. An axe blow sliced ​​through the air, trying to strike his ribs. Kael spun instantly, blocking with his blade and dodging the second, who attempted to pierce him with a spear. Kael grabbed the spear shaft with his free hand and pulled the enemy toward him. Before he could react, Kael impaled him with his own weapon, piercing his chest.

The second, still locked on Kael's sword, tried to retreat—but the warrior advanced. A brutal kick crushed the man's jaw, shattering bones, and without wasting time, Kael swung his sword and slit his throat. Blood gushed in a grotesque arc, splattering the wreckage of the carriage.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Amélia trembled with exhaustion. Her body could barely stand, but she raised her hands anyway. The ground froze beneath the feet of five bandits advancing from the flank, and in the snap of a finger, enormous ice spears shot upward, piercing their entrails. The men screamed, writhing, until their bodies were impaled and lifted into the air like crystal trophies.

"Sleep in the cold…" Amelia whispered, nearly falling to her knees.

Irelia gave no quarter. A man got too close to the princess, and that was her final mistake. With a quick swing, her sword slashed open his abdomen, letting his entrails cascade down. The bandit fell to his knees, his hands trying to hold back what could no longer be contained. She finished with a slash at the nape of his neck, wiping the blade on her bloodied cloak.

"No one touches her." Her voice was as cold as steel.

Sylphie, sweaty and with tears in her eyes, held up the shield of light. The arrows continued to fall, but none reached the princess. The shield trembled, cracked in places, but held. She screamed with all her might:

"Try again, you cowards!"

And, with a burst of magic, he released some of the accumulated energy. A golden explosion erupted outward, burning the nearest archers. The arrows ignited in the air and fell like embers. The men screamed, trying to extinguish the flames that devoured their skin.

Kael didn't stop. He was the center of the massacre.

Three advanced at once, one with a sword, another with a dagger, and the third with a mace. Kael dodged the sword, blocked the dagger with his bloodied arm, and used his own enemy as a shield against the mace blow, which crushed his skull with a horrific crack. Without hesitation, Kael shoved the dead body against the third and, with a horizontal slash, tore off his leg. The man fell screaming, rolling in the blood and mud.

The last man tried to flee. Kael reached him in two strides, grabbed him by the hair, and plunged his sword into his spine, running him through. The agonizing scream died away in a gurgle, and Kael kicked the corpse to the ground.

"All of you…" he whispered, breathing heavily, his eyes glowing like fire. "You will die here."

The bandits began to hesitate. Some retreated, murmuring among themselves. The massacre was obvious. Kael was alone, wounded, bloodied, but it was like a living storm. The girls, even exhausted, still resisted. The destroyed carriage was now an altar of bodies.

"It's him…" one of the men stammered, pale. "He's not human…"

Before he could finish, an ice arrow pierced his throat. Amelia smiled weakly, her eyes half-closed with exhaustion.

Kael swung his sword, blood running in rivers down the metal. He advanced again, ignoring the pain searing every muscle. The blade became an extension of his fury, ripping throats, splitting chests, crushing skulls.

The ground was no longer a road. It was a river of blood.

A group of five tried to form a line against him, as if they could contain him. Kael just smiled.

The first fell with a vertical gash, split from head to belly. The second was pierced through the stomach and used as a human shield against the blows of the other three. Kael twisted his body and wrenched the sword from it with such force that it hurled itself against its companions, knocking them down. Instantly, Kael advanced on the fallen and finished them all off with swift, brutal blows—severed necks, pierced eyes, crushed bones.

Within minutes, the field was nothing but screams, groans of pain, and mutilated bodies.

The last bandits retreated, trying to escape through the hills. But Kael wouldn't let them.

"No one escapes." His voice sounded low, like a verdict.

He advanced, a blur of blood and steel. The fugitives screamed, but they were cut from behind, their throats mercilessly slit. The smell of iron permeated the air, mingled with the golden smoke of Sylphie's magic and the deadly cold of Amelia.

When silence finally fell, only the sound of dying horses and the wind rustling through the trees remained.

Kael stood amidst the carnage, covered in blood from head to toe, his sword dripping in heavy drops. His breathing was ragged, but his eyes still burned.

Behind him, Irelia held her sword in her hand, but there was nothing left to cut. Amelia fell to her knees, nearly fainting, and Sylphie let her shield disappear, falling to her feet, tears streaming down her face.

The princess watched them silently. Her expression was cold, but her eyes—oh, her eyes—were wide with shock.

Kael turned slowly, his gaze fixed on her, sword still in hand.

"And so…" he said, spitting blood onto the ground, "…is how one deals with the unexpected."

The silence after the carnage was almost more disturbing than the massacre itself. The field, once filled with screams, now held only the distant echo of crows beginning to approach, drawn by the metallic scent of blood that permeated every leaf, every stone, every fragment of wood from the destroyed carriage.

Kael remained motionless for several seconds, his breathing ragged, his chest rising and falling sharply. His entire body trembled, but not from weakness. It was the fury still pulsing through his veins, the instinct to kill that refused to subside. Blood dripped from the tip of his sword, marking the ground in slow, almost ritualistic intervals.

Behind him, Sylphie swallowed hard. She had never seen anything like it. Even accustomed to battle, nothing compared to what Kael had just done alone.

"He... he finished them all," she whispered, her voice trembling, more to herself than to anyone else.

Amélia, still kneeling, wiped blood and dust from her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes fixed on Kael, and as much as she wanted to deny it, a strange sensation ran down her spine. Respect, yes. But also fear.

"If a man is capable of this..." she murmured softly, "...I don't know whether we should thank him or fear him."

Irelia didn't look away. Sword in hand, she stood her ground, protecting the princess, but her blue eyes were fixed on the warrior. There was no judgment in her expression, only a silent assessment, like someone gauging the strength of a storm.

The princess, for her part, was the only one to step forward. Her eyes, which had previously shone with shock, now revealed something different: curiosity. She watched Kael as if he were a rare creature, something beyond human.

"Impressive," she said finally, her voice calm, almost cold. "You follow him without question... now I understand why."

Kael didn't answer. He simply wiped the blade on a piece of cloth torn from one of the corpses, then returned it to its sheath. His amber eyes, however, still burned with that fierce light.

He approached the group, limping. His left shoulder was useless, blood dripped from cuts on his arm and face, but he showed no sign of pain. He simply stopped in front of them and said,

"We need to get out of here. Others might be coming."

Amélia tried to get up, but staggered, nearly falling again. Sylphie rushed to her and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"You can't stay like this. You need to rest."

"Rest here?" Kael growled, nodding toward the field strewn with bodies. "Within an hour, this place will reek of death and attract more enemies than you can count."

Irelia tightened her grip on her sword. "He's right. We must leave now."

The princess sighed lightly, as if watching a play in progress. "And where will we go, with no carriage, no driver, and wounded?"

Kael looked at her directly, without flinching. "It's not 'where' that matters now, Your Highness. It's survival."

The title escaped her mouth with a slight venom, as if it were an unwanted word. The princess raised an eyebrow but didn't respond.

Sylphie better adjusted Amelia, who was nearly fainting from exhaustion. "If we walk a few more miles, perhaps we can find shelter." She looked at Kael. "You must know somewhere."

Kael nodded. "There's a cave to the west, near the river. It's hidden, good for resting without being easily found. But we need to move. Raven gave me a lot of information about places where witches have facilities."

He looked at Amelia. "Can you walk?"

She took a deep breath, leaning on Sylphie's arm. "I can. Even if I'm dragged, but I can."

A brief silence followed. The wind blew, carrying the scent of blood. Ravens were already circling overhead, cawing like a death omen.

Kael looked up at the red sky and murmured, "The sun is setting. We have little time."