Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

Kael hovered in the air for a few more moments, silently observing the ruins of the once magnificent Elven Kingdom. The dome of Luminiência still pulsed faintly around him, like the last breath of a candle about to be extinguished. Sustained by his willpower, the magic acted as a tenuous shield between sanity and madness. But he knew—it was only a bandage over a much deeper wound.

He sighed.

Long. Heavy.

He closed his eyes, and then... he dove in.

His aura exploded out of his body like a silent storm—an ethereal wave that spread throughout the elven capital. Invisible to ordinary eyes, it danced through the broken streets, penetrated the shattered stones, enveloped the twisted branches, and touched the sleeping bodies with the delicacy of an ancient lament.

But Kael wasn't looking for magic.

She was looking for intent.

She was looking for the mental signature of the one who sowed chaos.

With every passing second, her energy searched deeper: she read the memories that still lingered in the air, the emotional remnants that clung to the walls, the psychic traces left by mental battles.

And then... it happened.

Her aura stopped.

As if she had collided with something that shouldn't have been there.

It wasn't magical resistance. It wasn't a counter-spell.

It was absence.

An absolute vacuum, a region where her consciousness could not penetrate — where reality itself seemed bent, sealed by an invisible force.

His eyes opened, intense as restrained lightning.

"There..." he murmured, his voice low but heavy with steel.

Kael descended slowly from the sky, floating like a leaf defying the wind. His feet touched the ground lightly, but the tension on his face weighed like steel. Exelia and Liora ran to him, both visibly alert, their hands already close to their weapons.

Without saying a word, Kael raised his hand and pointed to the east, his eyes fixed on a distant point on the horizon.

"My aura does not extend in that direction," he murmured, his voice low, grave, and full of certainty.

Liora followed his gesture with her gaze, her eyes narrowing.

"That is where the Tharnys are. A small clan... isolated, neutral elves. They have never been involved in any war. Not even in the uprisings against the Lunar Council. They avoid everything and everyone."

Kael turned slowly toward her. "And how long has it been since we've had direct contact with them?"

Liora hesitated. An uncomfortable silence fell between the three of them. "...Years," she replied at last. The word sounded like a failure.

Kael nodded, his eyes still turned to the east.

"Then it's past time we paid them a visit."

He raised his right arm.

The air around him trembled.

Pure mana began to condense like electric mist around his body, swirling in tight spirals. The ground vibrated. A deep hum filled the space, as if reality itself were receding in fear. The energy gathered there was not just magic—it was a statement.

In seconds, the mana took shape: a colossal mace made of pure arcane light. The edges of the weapon glowed with raw intensity, and ancient runes lit up on its surface like living scars. It was beautiful and terrifying. A tool of judgment.

Exelia instinctively stepped back, her face tense.

"Kael... are you really going to use that?"

He did not answer.

His silence was more eloquent than any statement.

With a muffled cry, he hurled the mace with all the strength of his soul.

The weapon tore through the skies like a bolt of vengeance, tracing a straight, relentless line toward the east. There was no sound. There was no resistance. It was as if the world itself had held its breath.

And then, at the exact point indicated by Kael... something impossible happened.

The air bent. The light faltered. The mace, which contained enough energy to break through arcane fortresses, was swallowed without sound, without explosion, without reverberation.

It was gone.

It did not dissipate. It did not break. It was erased. As if it had never existed.

Liora took a step forward, stunned.

"That wasn't an ordinary shield... There was no magical echo. I can't even feel the residue from the impact."

Kael clenched his fists, his eyes fixed on the absolute void.

"I knew it..." he whispered. "That's not just protection. It's denial. A deliberate blind spot... A dimensional fold stuck inside our world."

Exelia looked at him, worried.

"Do you think the Tharnys... are behind this?"

"No." The answer came quickly, coldly. "I don't think the Tharnys exist anymore."

Silence.

Kael knelt down, touching the ground with his palm. Spiritual energy spread in a circular pattern around his body, like invisible roots diving into the earth.

"There's something there," he said. "Something that erased that place from the memory of the earth, the winds, and even the echoes of magic. And if that was done... it wasn't by an ordinary mortal."

Liora approached, kneeling beside him.

"What do you intend to do?"

Kael looked toward the horizon, his gaze hardening.

"Find out who dared to hide from me. And why."

Exelia clenched her fists and took a step forward, her eyes fixed on the void.

"Then let's go. If there's something there, the sooner we get there, the better."

Kael remained motionless.

He looked at her, his eyes flashing in the warm light of the magical dome.

"No. You're not coming with me."

Exelia frowned in surprise.

"Kael..."

"This isn't a mission for three." His voice was firm, unwavering. "And more importantly, something is wrong here. Very wrong."

He turned, facing the devastated surroundings of the elven capital. Empty streets. Destroyed buildings. No guards in sight. No sign of organization. No control.

"Where are the soldiers?" he muttered. "This city is dead inside... but not because of the fighting. There aren't enough bodies to justify this silence. They disappeared before the fall."

Liora turned pale.

"Do you think something took them?"

"Or made them disappear from within." Kael turned his gaze back to the two of them. "You go to the Elven Palace. Check the situation. Find the Queen. If she's alive, keep her safe. If she's not..." He took a deep breath, his eyes hardening. "You know what that would mean. The end of the elven bloodline. And perhaps the beginning of something much worse."

Exelia hesitated, pride battling reason, but she didn't argue. She just nodded, tense.

"And you? Are you going alone to the Tharnys?"

"I'm not going to the Tharnys." He slowly walked away. "There are no more Tharnys. Only a trail of darkness and a cursed signature that I recognize all too well."

He paused for a second, looking over his shoulder.

"The succubus who disappeared. Hers is the presence I felt here... cold, deceitful, full of poison."

Liora's eyes widened.

"I thought she was dead."

"Professional illusionist," Kael said, his back already turned, his cloak billowing in the wind. "But a creature like her doesn't die easily. She changes. She adapts. She waits."

"And you're going after her alone?"

Kael did not turn around.

"I am only an envoy from the Kingdom of Witches. This land is not mine. But while I am here, I will not allow this evil to grow in the shadows."

He paused, the air around him condensing with a subtle shiver.

"If it's really her... it won't be a hunt. It will be a reckoning."

Exelia and Liora watched him leave, his steps silent but laden with a firm promise.

In the distance, dark clouds began to form over the east.

Kael walked straight into the eye of the storm.

"Who am I kidding..." He muttered, letting out a small smile...

[Main Quest: Possess a Succubus.]

[Reward: Incubus Bloodline]

...

The air was thick and purple, rippling with raw magic. The interior of the cave—or what appeared to be a cave—was a distortion of organic shapes and impossible angles, as if space itself obeyed impure desires. The walls breathed silently, pulsing with a lively and indecent cadence.

In the center, seated on a throne of bones and black petals, the succubus smiled.

Her eyes burned crimson, and her skin shimmered like velvet under the light of candles that never melted. Around her floated dozens of illusions—floating images, shaped by her magic, like liquid mirrors.

Scenes of the destruction of the Elven Kingdom repeated before her like projected memories. The collapse of the arcane towers. The absolute silence after the fall of the soldiers. The spells implanted in the blood of civilians. Everything meticulously orchestrated. Each death, each despair, a note in her dark symphony.

She watched with pleasure. Like someone revisiting a newly completed masterpiece.

But then, one of the illusions changed.

The image of a red-haired man walking steadily amid the devastation appeared. His eyes were like incandescent steel, and even shrouded in dust, magic, and ashes, he moved as if he did not belong to that plane—like a spear destined for its target.

The succubus' smile widened.

"Kael..." she whispered, almost affectionately.

She leaned forward slightly on the throne, her chin resting on her hand. A giggle escaped her lips. Sweet. False. Sharp.

"Being so beautiful is a crime." She crossed her legs slowly, as if savoring the thought. "This is going to be fun."

With a gentle gesture, all the illusions dissipated like smoke, except one: the one showing Kael. She enlarged the image, focusing on his eyes.

"Come to me, darling," she whispered, her eyes shining with cruel lust. "I want to see how far your courage will take you before it turns to desire."

The magic around her pulsed in response, hungry.

And very, very alive.