Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

"KAEL!"

The shout echoed through the forest, interrupting his thoughts. It was a familiar voice, but filled with irritation and authority.

"Damn... she seems to be upset," Kael muttered to himself, before sighing deeply. "Better go before it gets worse."

He started walking toward the voice, the shadows around him still faintly pulsating, as if reacting to his newly awakened magic. When he reached a clearing, his mother, Elion, was there, standing with her arms crossed and an expression that mixed exasperation and frustration. Her elegant dress fluttered slightly in the breeze, and the mana around her was almost palpable, like a contained storm.

"KAEL!" she shouted again when she saw him. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Kael raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "Calm down, Mom! What's going on this time?"

"THIS TIME?! Do you have any idea the damage you've caused?" She pointed beyond the clearing, where some trees were still leaning or had deep marks of cuts. "I spent hours restoring the forest with magic after your last disastrous training! And now you're destroying everything again!"

Kael looked at the ground, scratching the back of his neck, trying not to meet her gaze directly. "Well, technically, it wasn't my fault... Grandma provoked me, and then things... kind of... got out of control."

"Provoked?! Kael, you cut down almost fifty trees! That's not getting out of control, that's pure destruction!" Elion said, narrowing her eyes. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but it was clearly not working. "You have no idea the work it takes to fix this!"

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll be more careful next time," he said, raising his hands as if surrendering.

"Next time?!" Elion huffed, shaking her head. "There won't be a next time here, Kael. You're going to the Azalith Academy soon, and there you can train and destroy whatever you want without giving me a headache."

Kael raised his eyebrows, surprised. "So it's official? I'm really going to Azalith?"

"Yes, official and decided," Elion replied, crossing her arms again. "I've made the arrangements. You'll start in a few months. There you'll have the resources and space you need to train, learn, and maybe, just maybe, stop destroying entire forests in the process."

Kael paused for a moment. He knew Azalith Academy was one of the most renowned in the continent, known for producing the greatest mages, warriors, and strategists. But he also knew it would be a completely new environment, full of challenges and... social complications.

"I get it. I guess it's for the best," he said, sighing.

"And don't think this means you'll be free of responsibilities," Elion added, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Azalith isn't just a school; it's a battleground to prove your worth. You'll learn to control your power and act like someone worthy of the lineage you carry."

Kael raised his hands again, trying to placate her. "Okay, Mom, I get it. I'll behave... as much as possible."

Elion narrowed her eyes at him, as if not fully believing his words, but she eventually shook her head. "I just hope Azalith can handle you. Now, go help clean up the mess you made. Consider it practice for the challenges ahead."

Kael sighed but didn't argue. He knew deep down that his mother only wanted the best for him... even if that meant constantly reprimanding him for his actions. "Azalith will be interesting," he thought. "Maybe it's exactly what I need to grow even more." He thought...

...

The sound of the embers crackling in the fireplace filled the silence of the vast office. Books and scrolls lay in organized piles on an ebony table, illuminated by the flickering light of ancient candelabras. The man behind the table, Altharion Von Drakhar, director of the Azalith Academy, adjusted the fine glasses on his face and opened the thick scroll he had just received.

His golden eyes glowed with a mix of interest and calculation as they scanned the list of names written in magical ink. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping on the polished wood, and began to speak, his voice deep and laden with authority.

"Ah, the start of another school year. Always the same ritual... New talents, new promises... And, of course, new threats." He paused, his eyes narrowing as he examined the first name on the list.

"Sons of nobles and second-rate aristocrats, always thinking their family titles will be enough to make them stand out. Most will be crushed by reality before the first semester ends. As always, few of them deserve any real attention." He huffed, rolling the list with his fingers.

His eyes fixed on a particular name, and an eyebrow arched.

"Kael Scarlet... The young heir of the Scarlet lineage. A heavy surname, full of stories and secrets. They say he's a beast at mana control, but also a walking disaster. Is he a prodigy, or just another arrogant boy who believes the world owes him something? Hm, I hope he's the first. Azalith is no place for the weak of spirit... or the weak of mind."

He continued, moving down the scroll more carefully.

"Amelia Valroth, a direct descendant of the House of the Celestial Guardians. A paladin in training, they say she can already summon sacred armor before even turning fifteen. Raw talent, but will her unwavering morality withstand the chaos of Azalith? Power rarely allows purity and efficiency to coexist."

Another name caught his attention, and he tilted his head, intrigued.

"Leorak Tindrel... the famous boy from the Shadaran tribe, wielders of the ancient storm magic. They don't accept outsiders, but here he is, the first of his lineage to cross our gates. What secrets will he bring with him? And which ones will he try to hide?"

He slightly turned his chair, his eyes resting on the enchanted glass window that showed the towers and fields of the academy. The morning mist was beginning to dissipate, revealing the grounds that would soon become the stage for great conflicts and achievements.

"Another generation of promises... and problems. Some of these young ones will carry the fate of the world on their shoulders, while others will fall before even learning the basics. It's always like this. However... something about this year feels different."

His eyes returned to the scroll, and he ran his fingers over the names, feeling the faint magical pulse emanating from some of them.

"The magic surrounding these young ones... it's restless. It's as if destiny itself is bending its rules, concentrating its will on this generation. Something grand is about to happen... and, from experience, I know that greatness never comes without destruction."

He slowly closed the scroll, his eyes focusing on a distant point.

"Well then, foolish and ambitious youths... Let the pawns, queens, and kings of this great board enter. Azalith is ready to shape them... or destroy them. The choice will be theirs alone."

A subtle and cold smile curled Altharion's lips as he put the scroll away. It was the omen of a year he knew would be unforgettable.

"D-Director... you're... monologuing again..." said the voice, trembling but with a playful tone. It was clear this wasn't the first time she had found him in this situation.

Altharion immediately stopped, his expression of deep calculation and authority turning into something between embarrassment and impatience. He slowly turned his head towards the voice that had interrupted his dramatic moment.

The young assistant, Lyra Faelbright, was standing at the entrance of the office, a stack of scrolls in her arms, her cheeks flushed. Her glasses were slightly sliding down her nose, and her green hair, tied in a loose bun, gave her an adorably clumsy appearance.

Altharion sighed, leaning back in his chair and massaging his temple with two fingers. "Lyra, we've discussed this. They're not monologues... they're strategic reflections."

"Reflections you make out loud, Director," she retorted, unable to hold back a small smile. "And anyone passing by could hear them."

"I like to keep my thoughts organized," he replied, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "Would you prefer I write them down and lose the spontaneity?"

"I'd prefer you didn't scare me with phrases like 'let the pawns of this board enter' while I'm standing outside, waiting to deliver documents." She rolled her eyes slightly, but there was affection in her voice.

Altharion couldn't help but let out a small smile. Lyra had a special talent for disarming his seriousness—something he wouldn't admit aloud, of course. He gestured for her to come closer.

"So, what have you brought this time, my dear 'reflection interrupter'?" he asked, his tone wavering between sarcasm and lightness.

Lyra placed the scrolls on the table with a sigh, organizing them into a neat pile. "The latest enrollment confirmations for this year. Some new names and... apparently, a special request from the Council."

"Special request?" Altharion leaned forward, his expression once again focused. "What do they want now?"

Lyra hesitated, her brown eyes shining with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Something about closely supervising certain students... it seems they expect potential problems. Especially involving... the young Kael Scarlet."

The director narrowed his eyes, his mind immediately starting to calculate possibilities. "Interesting..." He looked back at Lyra, with a small, teasing smile. "Seems like my reflections weren't so far-fetched after all."

Lyra just rolled her eyes again. "Of course, Director. As always, you're right." But she couldn't help the amused smile as she picked up another scroll from the pile. "Just don't start another monologue, alright? I have a lot of work today."

"We'll see," Altharion replied, his voice heavy with humor as he unrolled the next document, already diving back into his analysis.

---

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