Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls-Chapter 388: Starting the Chaos

The pulsating heat of the core oscillated like a giant heart about to collapse, but the witch before it noticed none of this. All her attention was focused on the ritual—on the torrent of boiling mana coursing through her body, burning from within as if each nerve were an incandescent thread of liquid metal.

At her feet, dozens of kneeling witches trembled, sweated, wept, but remained bound to the mantra that fueled the core. The black mana poured from them like dense smoke, snaking across the floor before rising through the hollow crystal where the king was chained.

The solitary figure raised a hand, drawing more power to herself. Her closed eyes glowed a deep red—not the red of the crimson ice around her, but the vivid red of embers.

It was then that she felt it.

A gigantic pressure.

An invisible weight filled the entire hall, as if a colossal hand had been placed over the kingdom and squeezed.

Her eyes snapped open violently.

The mana flowing within her jolted and threatened to collapse.

"…What…?"

She turned so quickly that the white ritual cloak fell from her shoulders, sliding to the ground like melting snow.

Now exposed, her appearance was revealed in details that seemed almost unreal.

Her skin was too pale—not white, but something close to the glow of a winter moon. There was a slight rosy tint to her cheeks, like freshly stirred blood. Her lips were full, red as dark wine, forming a smile that seemed both tempting and cruel.

Her body was slender but defined, with sharp curves and an upright posture that exuded confidence. The dress beneath the cloak was as black as the bottom of a lightless cave, clinging to her body as if painted on her skin, with long slits that revealed her firm thighs. Red lace climbed up her arms and neck like bloody vines. Her hair flowed in soft waves to her waist—a deep red, like molten rubies, shimmering under the chaotic light of the hall.

And her eyes…

Ah, her eyes were a spectacle in themselves.

Red, but not naturally so—there was a living, almost liquid fire within them, as if embers were trapped in glass spheres.

She surveyed the hall with a single turn.

"The kingdom's mana… has shifted." Her voice was velvety, low, with a dangerous purr. "Be alert. Something… has happened out there."

One of the nearest witches raised her head, her face drained.

"Mistress Seraphyne… do you feel this? It seems the kingdom is…"

"Being sealed," Seraphyne finished, narrowing her eyes. "Yes."

She turned her body completely, staring at the hall's vaulted ceiling. The white mana of the core vibrated, trembling as if sensing the presence of a predator.

The air shifted.

The red ice cracked.

And Seraphyne felt a shiver run up her spine, slow, precise, almost sensual in its subtlety.

"We have invaders."

The kneeling witches hesitated in their ritual, but before they could fully react—

A sound cut through the air.

It wasn't a scream.

It wasn't a magical attack.

It wasn't even a crack.

It was just nothing.

An instant of such absolute emptiness that the world seemed to hold its breath.

And then—

Seraphyne simply vanished.

Her teleportation was so quick it left a trail of scarlet smoke. She reappeared three meters to the right, her hair billowing in the warm air.

At that exact same instant, something passed through the space where she had been before.

Something fast.

Something cold.

Something lethal. A black blade sliced ​​through the air with murderous precision, cutting the void where her neck had once been.

The witches gasped.

And Kael appeared.

He didn't appear.

He didn't walk.

He didn't invade.

He appeared—as if he had always been there.

His feet rested softly on the ground. The blade, still bent from the missed blow, darkened like solid smoke. His presence was a punch against the warm air of the hall, so cold it seemed to draw the heat to itself.

Seraphyne blinked once.

"…You tried to cut my neck."

It was a sentence, but it sounded like an amused statement.

Kael looked up at her.

His gaze was completely unwavering. No disturbance. No emotional glint. Just pure, freezing focus.

"That was the initial plan—he replied, as if commenting on the weather."

Seraphyne smiled.

The kind of smile that could make someone forget to breathe.

"And who, exactly, are you?"

Kael didn't move.

"The last person you'll see today."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Audacity is charming. But useless."

The ground vibrated beneath her feet as her mana surged. A vein of red light coursed down her arm, leaping like a lightning bolt trapped in flesh.

She raised her hand.

Or tried to.

In fact, Kael saw the gesture—saw the intention—and her magic died instantly.

Literally.

The red mana faded like a flame suffocated without oxygen. The entire hall seemed to lose its color. The core trembled, choking on the abrupt change.

Seraphyne took a deep breath, genuine surprise appearing for the first time.

"What…?"

Kael tilted his head, as if observing a laboratory test.

"You can't use magic here. Neither can your subordinates."

Her eyes widened slightly.

The dark witches around her tried to conjure—he could see it in their hesitant gestures, in their attempts to draw mana from their veins. But nothing happened. Not a spark. Not a whisper of energy. The air seemed dead to them.

Seraphyne let out a low, incredulous laugh.

"A sealing… within my ritual? Who are you, really?"

"It doesn't matter," Kael replied.

Seraphyne bit her lower lip, like someone finding something interesting during a deadly dance.

"If I can't use magic…" she murmured, taking a step forward, slow and feline, "…then I'll simply rip your heart out with my bare hands."

Kael didn't blink.

Seraphyne's smile widened—dangerous, beautiful, full of perfect teeth.

Then she raised her voice.

"KILL HIM!"

There was no hesitation.

The order was a trigger.

The witches rose in unison, even without magic, even exhausted, driven by a blind loyalty and a fanaticism that Kael had seen before—the kind of devotion cultivated with iron and blood.

They advanced.

Screams tore through the air.

Bare feet ran across the incandescent floor.

But Kael…

…Kael merely released a breath through his lips, as if finally accepting that the work will require more effort than planned.

The shadows around him trembled.

Irelia, Sylphie, and Amelia—still hidden at the edge of the room—saw the darkness rippling like black ink in boiling water.

And Seraphyne saw it too.

Her smile faded.

Because Kael did not retreat.

He did not adopt a defensive posture.

He did not retreat an inch.

He advanced.

Directly against dozens of witches without magic…

…and against Seraphyne, the most dangerous woman in that kingdom.

And the entire hall trembled as the massacre began.

The hall exploded in motion.

Kael advanced like an invisible gust of wind—the black blade describing an arc so swift it left a dark trail in the air, like ink being torn. The first witch who tried to intercept him barely had time to raise her arms. The blade pierced her body in a clean, unresistant blow, as if flesh were merely a thick mist.

She fell before she even realized she had been hit.

The others hesitated—but only for a second. The fanaticism etched in their eyes overcame the instinct for survival. They attacked all together, screaming, advancing with sharp claws and improvised weapons made of crimson ice ripped from the very ground.

Kael spun his body.

The movement was too elegant to belong on a battlefield, but too deadly to be called beautiful. The shadow beneath his feet expanded and rose up his legs like living smoke. At the same time, his arm traced a semicircle—and five witches were felled simultaneously, severed from collarbone to hip.

The sound of the impact on the ground echoed.

Seraphyne's eyes widened, genuine surprise glistening behind the red of her irises.

"He… cuts without mana?"

Kael didn't look at her. He didn't need to.

Another witch clung to his back, trying to immobilize him out of sheer desperation. He simply leaned forward and launched himself, rolling. In the movement, the shadow on his back solidified like thorns. The witch screamed as strands of darkness pierced her skin and threw her away.

The body fell hard to the ground.

Three others tried to attack him from the flank.

He raised his left hand.

The shadows obeyed.

Five black spears shot from the ground like obsidian stakes. They pierced the witches through the chest, impaling them before their feet could stop. The shock etched on their faces lasted less than a second before their eyes went blank.

Kael continued advancing.

He was a pure execution machine.

—

It was at that moment that a scream cut through the air, coming from the top of the staircase leading to the hall.

"KAEL!"

Sylphie leaped into the room, roots snaking behind her like green snakes. The natural mana she could still use—since it wasn't dark magic—flowed across the floor and grabbed two witches by the ankles, lifting them into the air and hurling them against the incandescent wall.

The impact cracked the crimson ice.

Amelia appeared right behind her, breathing rapidly, staff raised. With her magic restricted, she focused on smaller spells—concentrated bursts of light that acted like blinding grenades. An intense flash exploded in the center of the group of witches, and at least four stumbled, clutching their eyes.

Irelia was the last to enter.

But her entrance… was that of a warrior.

She advanced low, her sword shimmering with a silvery glow. The first movement was a horizontal slash that ripped the arm off a witch trying to surprise Kael from behind. The second was a perfect thrust, straight to the heart of another. Irelia kept her guard up, her teeth clenched.

"Kael! Don't let any of them get up!"

"It was already planned," he replied dryly.

Sylphie swallowed hard at the sight of the floor soaked in black blood. It was horrible. It was necessary. And Kael… Kael didn't hesitate.

The next wave of witches came with wild screams, surrounding them from all sides.

Amelia spun her staff and projected a small barrier of wind to push some of them away.

Irelia cut down another that tried to leap over the wall of melted ice.

Sylphie pulled roots from her own blood, the natural magic flowing even under the seal—green whips that lashed, bound, and broke bones.

Kael…

Kael made the hall tremble.

He plunged the blade into the ground.

A wave of shadows spread like a night sea, covering everything within a ten-meter radius. The shadows rose up the witches' legs, trapping them, suffocating them, stealing their breath.

And then…

The ground exploded.

The shadows became blades rising like the teeth of giant predators.

When the wave passed, half the witches were dead.

The silence that followed was filled with the smell of warm blood and steam.

Seraphyne, breathing faster now, kept her eyes fixed on Kael. Something between fascination and hatred mingled on her face.

"What… are you?"

Kael was about to answer—when a crack ripped through the air.

Seraphyne stopped.

She felt it.

Her face paled.

She raised her hand, trying to draw mana again—and for the first time realized that the sealing wasn't coming from the room.

It was coming from outside.

A gigantic barrier of anti-black magic enveloped the entire kingdom like an impenetrable cocoon.

Exelia and the witches outside were closing in.

Seraphyne swallowed hard.

"They… are surrounding me? Those damned…!"

The core trembled behind her, responding to her despair with internal cracks. The heat intensified so much that the air shimmered.

Trapped.

Without magic.

Outnumbered. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

And with Kael walking towards her like a death sentence.

Seraphyne felt an emotion she wasn't used to feeling.

Fear.

"Tsk…"

She took two steps back.

She looked at the core.

She looked at the cracks.

And then, something dark and unstable gleamed in her eyes.

"If I can't use my magic…" she whispered, with a smile that was half madness, half dark delight, "…then I'll use something none of these idiots dared touch."

She reached out and touched one of the incandescent cracks in the core.

Sylphie's eyes widened.

Amelia gasped.

Irelia took a step back.

Kael narrowed his eyes.

Seraphyne smiled, seductive and cruel.

"The Ice of Chaos…"

The crack exploded like a white sun.

"…will fight by my side."

And the entire hall trembled as if the kingdom itself screamed.