Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

The forest seemed darker than before.

Kael ran ahead, his breathing controlled, his eyes narrowed. Exelia followed close behind, her sword still stained with illusory blood, her feet light as shadows. Liora brought up the rear, but her normally serene face now bore a look of unease that Kael rarely saw in her.

They had won—or thought they had. The battle against the succubus was over, the blood and pain still fresh on their skin... but it wasn't real.

The illusion was perfect.

So perfect it hurt to the bone.

"There's something very wrong going on in the midst of this civil war," Kael murmured, his voice low but firm. "That wretch was trying to do something."

"That illusion was too perfect, I myself thought we were inside the Elven Kingdom..." commented Exelia, her blue eyes vibrating with coldness. "That thing, there's something strange about it. It creates illusions that create illusions... that's bizarre. The one we killed was just demonic energy."

"Let's focus, we have to move on," said Liora, as she quickened her pace through the forest.

The group advanced through the branches as if the entire forest was conspiring to block their path. The roots seemed to rise, the trunks closed in, but they still ran—fast, determined. The Kingdom of the Elves was already visible in the distance, just a few minutes ahead...

Until Kael stopped abruptly as he emerged into a clearing.

"Stop!" he said, his voice sharp as a blade.

Exelia and Liora stopped instantly, alert. Kael kept his gaze fixed on the sky, his eyes half-closed, his muscles tense.

"That there..." he pointed upward, "isn't normal, is it?"

The two followed his gesture with their eyes.

A dark spiral rose on the horizon, dense and irregular.

"Smoke...?" Exelia murmured, frowning.

"But... we don't use fire," whispered Liora, feeling a chill run down her spine. "All our energy comes from magic... there's no way something like this could happen..."

She didn't finish her sentence.

Her face paled, her eyes widened. The smell was now unmistakable: ashes. Old wood being devoured. Blood in the breeze.

"It's an attack!" she shouted. "LET'S GO! NOW!"

Kael ran ahead, as if propelled by the wind itself. The trees whizzed by in green and black blurs, the forest darkening with every step. The smell of smoke and blood guided the trio like an invisible current pulling them into chaos. None of them spoke, but the tension was thick, almost tangible.

When they finally crossed the last barrier of thick branches and reached the hills surrounding the Elven Kingdom, they stopped at once. What they saw before them took their breath away.

The elven city was burning.

What had once been a sanctuary of crystal towers and enchanted streets was now engulfed in chaos. Elves ran in all directions, screaming, fighting. But the strangest thing was... they weren't soldiers. They weren't guards. They were civilians. Men, women, young and old, all entangled in a bloody battle.

And worse: against each other.

High Elves, their ceremonial robes stained with blood, faced Dark Elves like enraged animals. Spells exploded in the air with an irregular glow, formless, uncontrolled. There was no tactic. There was no command. It was as if everyone there had gone mad.

Kael felt his stomach churn.

"Where are the royal guards?" he asked, his voice low, almost afraid of the answer.

Exelia gripped the hilt of her sword.

"This... this isn't right. There's no organization, no purpose. They're just... killing."

Liora fell to her knees and touched the ground. Her eyes closed for a moment, seeking the natural flow of magic. But upon making contact with the magical currents around her, she recoiled with a low cry, as if she had touched red-hot iron.

"They're all under an illusion," she gasped. "But it's not like the succubus's. This is... it's more primitive. More chaotic. As if something had broken the barriers of the collective mind."

Kael crouched beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Are they trapped inside this? Do they feel like they're being attacked?"

Liora nodded.

"Worse. They feel like they're right. Each of them thinks they're fighting for justice. For revenge. For some twisted truth."

Exelia watched the battlefield below, her eyes narrowed. She was trying to understand the patterns, but there was no logic to it.

"This is unlike any magic I know. It wasn't made to dominate. It was made to... contaminate."

Kael narrowed his eyes, taking it all in. Then he spoke: "This isn't a civil war. This is a cultivated massacre. Someone wants them to destroy each other."

In the center of the city, something glowed. A black stone tower, which had not been there before, rose between the temples of the High Elves. Its top pulsed with a greenish light, like a poisoned heart beating to the rhythm of destruction.

"That," Liora pointed. "That is the epicenter of the distortion. I can feel it. The illusion did not come from the mind of an elf. It came from something external... something buried there."

Kael stood up. "We have to get there."

"In the middle of this hell?" Exelia retorted, her eyes still on the crazed crowd. "If we go in now, we'll be part of the illusion too."

Kael turned to her, determined. "Then we'll find a way not to get caught. But if we don't destroy that, this war will never end."

Liora stood up, still panting, but steady.

"I can try to seal our consciousnesses with an anchor. A link between the three of us. If one of us starts to fall into the illusion, the other two can bring them back. It's risky... but better than nothing."

Kael nodded immediately. Exelia hesitated for a second, then snorted.

"I hate mind tricks... but let's end this."

Liora took a small enchanted stone from her belt and crushed it between her fingers. A blue glow appeared in her hands, and she divided it into three fragments of light that floated to each of their chests. The lights merged with their bodies like embers sinking into their skin.

"We're connected now. One pulls the other if they fall. No lone heroes. We're in this together, right?"

"Always," Kael replied.

"Until the end," said Exelia.

With the decision sealed, the three began their descent into the Elven Kingdom.

The city entrance, once guarded by crystal sentinels, was deserted. Corpses lay on the stone steps, some still with their eyes open, staring into the void. Inside, the chaos was even worse. The trio infiltrated the alleys and ruins, dodging stray spells, screams, and spears that appeared out of nowhere.

Each step was a battle against illusion.

Kael saw, for a moment, the image of his mother running toward him, shouting his name. But the fragment of light burned in his chest, and the image dissipated like smoke.

Exelia saw the face of her former master, accusing her, but she ignored it. She felt the touch of the other two on her consciousness, like a taut thread preventing her from falling.

And Liora saw the Kingdom at peace, her parents smiling... but the taste of blood in her mouth brought her back.

Finally, they reached the steps of the black tower. The air around them was heavy, as if reality itself were fragmented there. Ancient magic dripped from the walls like black tears.

"This is not the work of elves..." Kael muttered, his eyes fixed on the insane chaos ahead—civilians killing each other like beasts, their eyes empty and their mouths foaming incoherent incantations.

The bitter taste of truth rose in his throat.

"Fuck it," he growled, and in a burst of energy, his feet left the ground.

In an instant, he took flight with a burst of compressed wind, the air around him trembling with the force unleashed. The dark canopy of the forest opened up below him as he gained altitude, and soon he hovered over the Elven Kingdom like a luminous omen.

Kael, with his current body—shaped by years of condensed study, pain, and accelerated improvement—was not just a wizard. He was a sorcerer, the last to bear that title, and the most powerful since the extinction of the great Arcane.

Trained by Eleonor, his grandmother, the Queen of Witches herself, Kael mastered spells that no one else dared even attempt. And yet, not all his power came from his lineage. There was also the System—that silent entity that now remained absent... but which, even in silence, continued to recognize him as the Hunter.

He reached out his hand to the gray sky, and the magic responded like muffled thunder.

"Luminience," he invoked.

Instantly, a magical dome rose with a pearly white glow, covering the entire territory of the Elven Kingdom. The darkened sky trembled as the magic anchored itself in the winds and settled in space, like a spiritual dome. The light was serene—it did not burn the eyes, but gently pressed upon reality. An ancient spell, designed to isolate... and protect.

The elves below hesitated. Spears paused for a second. Eyes widened. But the madness did not cease.

"It's not enough..." Kael muttered, his teeth clenched.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, like a silent conductor about to conduct the final note of a symphony of war.

"Luminus."

The name of the magic was whispered with precision. And the world shone.

A flash erupted from the center of the dome, expanding in all directions. It was not heat, nor explosion—it was clarity. It was as if truth itself had been cast as a spell. The light pierced through houses, fields, bodies.

And then—like a single held breath being released—silence fell.

Bodies fell to the ground. One by one. Like puppets whose strings had been cut. No screams. No cries. Just the soft sound of falling and the rustling of leaves.

All the elves, High and Dark, fell as if they had been freed from the weight of insanity — and their unconscious bodies now looked like children sleeping amid the ashes of destruction.

Kael hovered in the sky, alone, like a broken deity. Sweat dripped from his forehead. The magic drained him, pulling more from him than it should, and yet he remained standing — because there was no one else who could do what he had just done.

Below, Exelia and Liora watched in astonishment, enveloped by the dull light of the dome. The war had ceased... but it was not over.

Not really.

Because something—or someone—had caused all of this.

And Kael felt it.

The presence.

Hidden. Cold. Cynical.