Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

The forest seemed to watch them.

Every charred trunk, every branch twisted by Kael's fire, reached out as if to grab them, the fingers of an invisible creature moving alongside them. The sodden ground sucked in their footsteps, spitting out viscous sounds, while even the river in the distance seemed to murmur in a muffled tone beneath the suffocating veil of smoke that still hung in the air.

Irelia led the way, sword in hand, every muscle rigid as stone. There was no room for hesitation. The roar of Kael's flames still echoed behind them, but now it was mixed with other sounds—screams, orders piercing the air, the metallic clang of marching armor. The hunt continued.

They weren't just fleeing. They were being hunted.

The Princess followed close behind, her posture erect even in the chaos. Her torn, blood-stained dress did nothing to diminish her imposing presence; On the contrary, her imperturbable coolness was almost more unsettling than if she'd been gripped by panic.

Amélia followed, practically dragging Sylphie along, who stumbled with every step. The mage's body burned with fever, her skin cold and clammy, her lips murmuring incoherent words—fragments of spells or delusions wrung out by exhaustion. In her eyes, the golden glow flared and faded like dying embers in the wind.

"Don't faint... not now..." Amélia whispered, the plea hidden beneath a desperate rigidity. Her arms were already trembling under her friend's weight, but letting go was not an option.

It was then that a crack echoed to the right.

Irelia raised her hand, and the group froze instantly. Silence seemed to devour the air.

Footsteps. Light, quick, calculated. They weren't animals.

A short whistle cut through the night. Another answered, farther away, on the opposite side.

The circle was closing in.

"Move," Irelia said, her voice low and firm, like a blade against stone. She tugged the princess by the arm and forced her to accelerate. "If we stand still, it's over."

Amélia bit her lip until she tasted the metallic taste of blood. She clutched Sylphie to her and ran after them, her heart hammering so loudly it seemed to betray her position.

When the roar of the water finally grew closer, a wave of hope swept through the group. The river was just ahead, its silvery surface reflecting the light of distant flames. But there was no time for relief.

On the other side of the bank, torches appeared. Tiny orange dots moved like hungry fireflies.

"The river isn't safe," the Princess said sharply.

Irelia gritted her teeth. "We have no choice. They're already after us."

Amelia looked at Sylphie. The mage seemed almost unconscious, her head lolling. If they fell into the water now, she might simply sink.

"I... I don't know if I can carry her with the current," she admitted, her voice trembling.

"We don't need to swim," Irelia replied, her eyes scanning the shore. "We just need to use the river to confuse our tracks."

A sound cut through the air. An arrow.

It struck a tree trunk inches from the princess's head.

"Archers!" Amelia shouted, instinctively raising her free hand. A circle of ice formed in the air, but it shattered before it could complete, cracking like glass. The effort made her falter, nearly knocking Sylphie over.

Irelia didn't hesitate. She leaped forward, blocking another arrow with her sword. The impact echoed in her arms, but she maintained her stance.

"Run! For the shore!"

The riverbank was treacherous. The ground, damp and unstable, was covered in thick roots that emerged like petrified snakes, ready to wrap themselves around ankles. Every step was a trap: stumbles, slips, painful twists that threatened to break the rhythm of their escape.

The Princess fell first. Her knee scraped against a rock, her skin splitting open with blood. She didn't scream. She simply got up silently, brushed the dirt from her hand, and ran again, her gaze cold as if nothing had happened.

Sylphie, on the other hand, was far from in control of her body. Her disjointed words rose in volume, charged with unstable power. The gold in her eyes burned like embers, and the air around her began to tremble, distorted like heat on red-hot iron.

Amélia shook her hard, desperate.

"Shut up... shut up, please..."

But it was useless. Magic pulsed from Sylphie like a drumbeat in the dark, rhythmic, growing, impossible to suppress.

"Irelia!" Amelia gasped, panic nearly breaking her. "She's drawing attention!"

Irelia glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing as she saw the golden glow expanding like a fire about to escape its cage.

"Hold her! Don't let her—"

But it was too late.

The explosion wasn't devastating, but it was enough. A golden wave spread through the air, illuminating the shore like a flash of thunder. The forest, previously shrouded in shadow, revealed itself for an instant—twisted trees, black roots, the river water reflecting the glow in shimmering waves.

And then the cry came, dry, cutting through the night:

"There!"

Torches flared in response. The sound of dozens of running feet spread through the forest like a swarm.

Amélia felt her heart drop. She bit her lip until the taste of blood invaded her mouth and, in a desperate gesture, summoned ice. The air crystallized around her, and a low wall rose above the stones of the bank. The ground became slippery, covered in a translucent film.

The first pursuers advanced, and the instant their feet touched the ice, they skidded. Bodies slammed into rocks, armor clashed, and some were swept away by the icy current, screaming as they disappeared into the river.

But the effect would not last.

"Let's go!" Irelia roared, not looking back. Her sword gleamed in her hand, but it was the command in her voice that spurred them all to action. "Now!"

Amélia clutched Sylphie to her chest and ran, feeling the ice behind them already begin to crack under the weight of their enemies.

They advanced along the bank, but the river offered not only escape—it also offered hidden enemies.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, blocking their path. A tall man in dark leather armor, his face covered by a simple iron mask. In his hands were two short blades that gleamed in the moonlight.

He didn't speak. He just advanced.

Irelia stepped forward, blocking the initial attack. The man's blades were swift, precise, each strike targeting vital points. She retaliated, sword against blade, the metallic clang echoing in the air.

"Run!" she ordered, without looking back.

"I won't leave you alone!" Amelia protested, but the princess grabbed her arm.

"She's not asking. She's ordering. If we hesitate, we all die."

Amelia felt her heart break, but she knew the princess was right. She dragged Sylphie along and ran along the bank, her breath shallow and desperate.

Behind her, the sound of battle continued—blows, clangs of metal, gasps for breath.

But Irelia didn't scream.

And that frightened her more than anything.

The smoke seemed to dissipate as they moved away from the center of Kael's hell, but the forest was no less hostile. With each step, the terrain became more uneven, roots and rocks intertwining in a natural maze.

The princess ran steadily, but Amelia was almost out of strength. Sylphie could no longer keep her eyes open, muttering only one word:

"Roots... roots..."

"She's talking about the cave," the princess said, her gaze fixed ahead. "That's what Kael said. An entrance beneath the roots."

"But where?" Amelia gasped in despair. The river stretched endlessly beside them, each bend hiding new shadows.

Then they heard it.

A sharp whistle, coming from behind. Followed by another, ahead.

They were surrounded again.

Amelia felt her legs tremble. Desperation gripped her chest like claws. If they were caught now, everything Kael was fighting for would have been in vain.

"Keep running," the princess said, her voice as icy as ever. "He gave us time. Let's not waste it."

It was Sylphie who saw it first.

Her eyes, half-closed, snapped open, and she raised a trembling hand, pointing. "There... there..."

Between the massive roots of a willow tree, bending over the river as if to embrace it, was a dark opening. Almost invisible, covered in moss and shadows.

Amélia ran, tears streaming down her face. She pushed the princess inside first, then Sylphie. The mage nearly collapsed, but Amélia held her until she was safe.

She herself entered last, falling to her knees on the damp cave floor. The sound of the water echoed, drowning out the noise of the chase.

For a moment, all that existed was silence.

Then Irelia appeared in the entrance. Bleeding, her face smeared with ash, her sword still stained. She staggered in and fell to her knees, breathing heavily.

Amélia ran to her, tears in her eyes. "You—"

Irelia held up her hand, stopping her. "No... not now. We're inside. That's what matters."

The princess, leaning against the stone wall, watched silently. Her eyes reflected the red light of the flames in the distance, but her expression was unreadable.

Amélia looked at Sylphie, who trembled in her arms. The golden glow in her eyes finally faded, replaced by an exhausted emptiness.

"And Kael...?" Amelia whispered.

Irelia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. A trickle of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

"He's still out there."

Silence fell over them like a shroud. Only the river spoke, murmuring eternally, while the distant fire roared, as if it wanted to devour the entire world.