Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls-Chapter 372: Morning with Mom

Kael woke up with a deep pain throughout his body—especially in his hip, as if he had spent the night fighting a titan of pure chaos.

And, in a way… he had.

He let out a muffled groan, pressing his hand against his side, trying to gather the strength he had left after the "lesson" Elion had given him—one of those sessions so intense, so absurdly beyond human limits, that left him unsure whether to thank her… or curse her.

Breathing carefully, he turned his face to the side.

Elion slept there, peaceful, serene, almost angelic—which was such a colossal irony that Kael wanted to laugh.

Nothing about her was angelic.

She was nestled between the sheets, her hair spread out like living strands of light and shadow, her face resting on the back of her hand. Her calm breathing contrasted cruelly with the chaos she had caused him.

"She sleeps as if she hasn't sucked me dry with those sitting positions…" Kael tried to sit up. Slowly. Very slowly.

But before he could complete the movement, a drawling, sleepy—and dangerously possessive—voice cut through the air: "Come back."

He froze.

Elion didn't even open his eyes. He merely reached behind him, finding his chest with supernatural precision, and pushed him back onto the sheets with a gentle but unyielding force.

"I haven't released you yet," she murmured, her voice hoarse with sleep, but firm as an ancient command. "Stay here."

Kael sighed, frustrated.

"Mother… I need to go. Something's happening. Skaldi—"

"Skaldi can wait." Now she opened her eyes—two halves of a bright, lazy chaos.

He swallowed hard.

"You're going away again." Her voice was still low, but there was something about it… something warm, something captivating. "Then stay here with me a little longer."

"I can't stay long," Kael retorted, trying to remain rational. "People are counting on me. There's danger, there's—"

"You've been away too long for too long."

She moved closer to him as if the bed had no weight, sliding down until her head rested on his shoulder. Her hands closed around his waist—not hurting, but holding him.

As if the entire universe could escape from her through him.

"Stay until lunch."

Kael blinked, surprised by the request… and by the almost hidden vulnerability he carried.

"You never ask like that," he murmured.

"Because I don't like to ask."

Her fingers pressed a little harder.

"But… it's been a long time since we've been together. And I want my time with you."

Kael looked at the ceiling, exhaling a defeated sigh.

"…Until lunch," he conceded.

Elion smiled—that satisfied, dangerous, radiant smile—and snuggled closer to him, as if claiming an ancient right.

"Good boy…"

Kael closed his eyes.

He was absolutely certain of one thing:

The world could crumble out there.

But, for now, he was trapped in bed with a primal force that simply refused to waste another minute with him.

And, strangely…

…he didn't care that much.

The comfortable silence lingered for a few moments, until Elion let out a small sound of satisfaction and stretched her arms like a feline awakening.

Then she rose.

In one movement, too graceful for someone who could move mountains with a yawn, she got out of bed. Her feet touched the floor with the lightness of a falling leaf, and her hair spread down her back in a soft sheen.

"Get up," she ordered, pointing at Kael without even looking back. "Go take a shower. You're all sore, sweaty, and… disorganized."

The last word sounded almost offensive, as if her son's disorganization wounded her pride.

Kael let out another sigh—that sigh of someone who simply gave up arguing with a force greater than meteors.

"Okay, okay… I'll go."

"And I'll make breakfast." Her voice came out in an almost sing-song tone, but there was a clear intention there: don't run away.

Kael stood up slowly, feeling every muscle protest. "Are you really going to cook?"

"Mhmm. I want to take care of you a little." She turned her face to him, smiling with a sweetness that only meant danger. "Don't complain."

He raised his hands. "I wouldn't dare."

Elion left the room with light steps, disappearing down the hallway towards the kitchen. The sounds of flasks, pots, and casual magic were already beginning to dance there.

Kael went to the bathroom.

The hot water hit his body like a necessary embrace.

The steam rose slowly, and his muscles finally began to release tension.

"Living goddess…" he murmured, massaging the back of his neck. "I'm going to die before I get to Skaldi."

The water ran down his face, and Kael took the opportunity to activate the small engraved crystal attached to his wrist—a simple and discreet communication spell that shone like a drop of moonlight.

He whispered: "Grandma… everything's under control. Elion is… hm… less explosive than I expected. She's keeping me here until lunch. I'll go to Skaldi as soon as she releases me."

The crystal's light blinked once—receiving.

Blink twice—message arriving.

And then, Eleonor's soft, powerful voice formed within his mind, like mist taking shape:

"Kael, my dear, relax. You have plenty of time before things get worse over there."

Her voice came so calmly, so confidently, that Kael felt some of the tension evaporate with the steam from his bath.

"I've already sent Exelia to do reconnaissance around the Kingdom of Skaldi. When you return, you'll have fresh information. Enjoy your creator a little. She misses you."

Kael closed his eyes.

For a moment, emotional exhaustion hit harder than physical exhaustion.

Eleonor always had that touch of reality—firm, welcoming, without drama. The perfect opposite of the storm called Elion.

He replied, in a thought sent back:

"Okay… I'll try to relax a little. But I hope Exelia doesn't mess things up. And… thank you, Grandma."

The connection dissolved slowly, like ink dissolving in water.

Kael rested his hands on the living stone walls of the bathroom, taking a deep breath.

"Enjoy Elion… until lunch." He chuckled weakly to himself. "This is riskier than facing half a dozen Black Witches."

When he finally finished his shower, he felt… a little less broken.

He dried himself off, put on clean clothes conjured from the house's magic, and took a deep breath before opening the door.

From the kitchen came the most chaotic, delicious, and dangerously aromatic smell he had ever experienced.

And her voice, singing something indecipherable… or perhaps conjuring.

Kael didn't know exactly what to expect when he turned the corner—maybe Elion in an apron, maybe her manipulating magic to make the ingredients levitate… something like that.

But not that.

He stopped at the door. And for a moment forgot how to breathe.

Elion was facing away from him, leaning over the counter as she stirred something shiny in a pan—and dressed in white lingerie that seemed designed not to conceal, but to suggest. The fabric was too thin, the lace almost translucent, embracing her body as if made of woven light. The straps crossed her back like an X in the sky, leaving practically all her skin exposed.

And that body…

Curves sculpted like a dangerous promise, a slender waist, strong hips, thighs that could intimidate an entire army, and skin illuminated by the kitchen fire and the violent contrast of her long, red hair, loose almost halfway down her back.

She looked like a newlywed on an endless honeymoon.

Or a deity who had discovered the pleasure of provoking a mortal simply because she could.

Kael felt his heart pounding in his neck.

"…Mother?" he managed to say, but only air came out, almost a whisper.

She turned her face slowly, very slowly, as if she already knew she was being watched—and that was precisely the purpose.

The smile came first: lazy, confident, deliciously dangerous.

"Ah…" she hummed, in that tone that flowed like warm honey, "you finally got out of the shower."

Her eyes traveled down his body, assessing, appreciating, without any shame.

"Better." She licked the corner of her lips, softly, almost imperceptibly. "You look presentable."

He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

Elion tilted his head, and his red hair slid like wildfire over his bare shoulder.

"What is it?" she teased, taking a step closer, letting the light reveal even more of the fine lace clinging to his skin. "Didn't you like it?"

Kael almost laughed, incredulous:

"Like it? Mom… don't tell me that…" he swallowed, "You want more?"

She raised her eyebrows, innocent as a predator playing with its prey.

"Lingerie. For you. I thought it would be… appropriate. Since you were leaving after lunch." She took a step, then another, until she was close enough for him to smell her warm perfume, something between flower and storm.

Her voice lowered, scratching the air:

"I said I wanted my time with you."

Her hand touched his chest—light, warm, claiming territory.

"And you know I don't waste opportunities."

Kael took a deep breath—or tried to—because the world had shrunk to fit the distance between them.

"You're going to kill me," he murmured.

"Not before lunch." Her smile widened, feline, delicious. "Then… we'll see."

She walked past him slowly, the lace brushing against the air, too delicious to be accidental.

"Sit down," she ordered with the sweetness of someone who knows she'll be obeyed. "The coffee's almost ready."

Kael sat down.

'Shit… my dick's hard again…'