Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls-Chapter 395: Devoured by Chaos

The first sign that something was terribly wrong didn't come from the sky.

It came from the ground.

A dry, deep crack echoed beneath everyone's feet—a sound too deep to be just crumbling stone. It was the noise of something ancient breaking apart, like a continental plate fracturing after enduring pressure for too long.

Kael felt it before he saw it.

The sole of his boot sank an inch into the ground… and froze.

Not ordinary ice.

Not magical ice.

White ice.

The same residue that had remained of Seraphyne.

Only now… it was spreading.

"Shit," Kael muttered, already moving.

Too late.

The entire ground screamed.

Not in sound—in vibration.

A wave of white ice exploded from the palace like an invisible tide, surging across the battlefield in every direction. Wherever it touched, the earth didn't freeze: it was replaced.

Stone turned to opaque crystal.

Grass became brittle blades.

Roots shattered like glass.

Witches on the ground had no time to react.

Some tried to fly—their mana wings froze mid-movement and shattered, hurling bodies from the sky like broken dolls.

Others erected barriers.

The white ice passed through as if they didn't exist.

An entire stretch of the battlefield simply vanished, replaced by an uneven plain of pulsating ice that creaked and grew in real time.

"RETREAT! EVERYONE, RETREAT!" someone shouted from the allied side.

But there was nowhere to run.

The ice grew upward.

Towers of white crystal sprouted from the ground like colossal thorns, piercing entire rows of combatants, impaling black witches and allies alike. The impact hurled bodies into the air, shattering before they even hit the ground.

The sky reacted.

Clouds swirled violently, sucked down as if the earth had created its own gravity. Magical lightning curved, dodging the ice as if avoiding it by pure instinct.

Kael felt his stomach clench.

"This isn't a side effect…" he growled. "It's a chain reaction."

Sylphie grabbed his arm, panic evident in her eyes.

"Kael, the ground—"

"I know."

The white ice was responding.

Responding to the absurd amount of mana and magic being poured into that place.

Responding to the war.

Responding to the rupture Seraphyne had left.

The cracked core in the palace glowed in the distance—and then responded.

A pulse.

Not visible.

But felt.

The entire field trembled as if struck by a divine hammer.

And then… the ground gave way.

A colossal fissure opened, beginning in the palace courtyard and stretching for miles, tearing through villages, walls, and forests like a living scar. From within it, white ice gushed forth, like inverted magma, climbing the edges of the fissure and spreading even faster.

The kingdom was being forcibly rewritten.

Witches in the air began to fall—not from attacks, but because the space around them simply solidified for an instant, trapping them before shattering again.

Screams.

Explosions.

The continuous sound of something enormous breaking without stopping.

Exelia realized it instantly.

She interrupted the combat with the unknown witch, raising her arms, her eyes wide with genuine horror.

"—NO! NO, NO—!"

She cast a gigantic seal, attempting to contain the expanding ice. The seal touched the white surface…

…and shattered.

The other witch—the true leader—watched everything with calm interest.

No hurry.

No surprise.

Like someone watching an avalanche she knew was coming.

She reached out.

The ice responded to her.

Not as a servant.

But as something that recognizes authority.

Kael felt his blood run cold.

"…so that's it," he murmured. "She doesn't just control the witches."

The white ice began to rise.

Not in towers.

In shapes.

Colossal structures, resembling ribs, spinal columns, gigantic limbs emerging from the ground. It wasn't a single monster—it was as if the terrain itself was trying to assume an impossible anatomy.

The realm was transforming into a body.

A body made of Chaos ice.

Amelia fell to her knees, feeling the surrounding mana go mad.

"This… this will destroy everything…"

Irelia stared at the scene through clenched teeth.

"There won't be anyone left."

Kael closed his eyes for a second.

He breathed.

He thought.

The ice wasn't growing randomly.

It followed lines.

Lines of mana.

Lines of conflict.

Lines where combat was most intense.

"…she's using the war as fuel," Kael concluded. "Every spell cast accelerates it."

As if confirming his words, an explosion in the sky made the ice advance even faster, engulfing an entire formation of dark witches and allies, fusing them into a single block that shattered into thousands of glittering fragments.

Exelia shouted desperate orders, trying to reorganize the forces, but it was too late.

The cataclysm wasn't something to be fought.

It was something to be survived.

Kael gripped his sword hilt until his fingers ached.

His eyes fixed again on the unknown witch.

She floated above the chaos, untouched, her cloak billowing slowly, while the world below her crumbled.

"…I understand," Kael murmured, a dangerous smile appearing despite the pain. "You wanted this from the beginning."

The ice advanced toward the palace again.

The cracked core began to vibrate uncontrollably.

If it exploded…

The entire kingdom would be extinguished.

Kael turned to the three of them.

"You need to get out of here. Now."

Sylphie opened her mouth to protest.

He interrupted her with a look.

"That's not a request."

The ground trembled once more.

A wall of white ice rose on the horizon, advancing like a solid tsunami.

Kael turned back to the battlefield—to the burning sky, to the shattering world, to the true enemy observing everything with absolute calm.

And he thought, with cold clarity: So that's it. If the kingdom is going to fall… it will fall fighting.

He advanced.

The world began to die from the bottom up.

It wasn't a sudden explosion, nor a grandiose roar announcing the end. It was a dry, deep crack, coming from the bowels of the kingdom—like the sound of something ancient finally giving way after bearing too much weight for too long.

The white ice on the ground trembled.

Then, it sank.

Kael felt it first at his feet. A subtle, almost imperceptible tug, as if gravity had decided to test new rules. The cracks in the ground widened in curved lines, forming concentric circles that converged on a central point—exactly below the ancient palace.

"No…" he murmured.

The ice of Chaos began to melt in reverse: it didn't turn into water, it didn't evaporate. It disintegrated into fragments of white light that were sucked down, ripped from the world as if something were breathing beneath the crust of reality.

And then the ground opened.

Not like a crater.

But like an eye.

A colossal opening tore open in the earth, revealing a spiraling void, too deep to measure. In the center of that abyss, something pulsed—a core of Chaos, far greater than anything Seraphyne had ever been able to sustain.

It didn't explode.

It drew in.

The air was pulled in first. Then the light. Next, the sound began to distort, stretching into deep wails. Nearby trees bent violently, ripped from the ground. Towers collapsed into the chasm like forgotten toys.

And then…

The witches began to be sucked in.

"WHAT IS THIS?!" someone screamed from the heavens.

Dark witches, at the height of their spells, were ripped from the air like insects trapped in an invisible whirlpool. Some tried to resist, driving magic into space, creating anchors of shadow, blood, and hatred.

Nothing worked.

The core devoured everything.

Bodies stretched impossibly before being shattered into fragments of mana and identity. Screams were cut off in half, swallowed by the white vortex that grew with each passing second, becoming denser, brighter, more… conscious.

Kael felt an absolute chill run down his spine.

"This isn't a side effect," he thought, his eyes wide.

"This is a mechanism."

The core wasn't collapsing.

It was activating.

— "RETREAT!" Kael shouted, his voice tearing through the chaos of the battlefield. "EVERYONE OUT OF THE ATTRACTION ZONE! NOW!"

Exelia heard.

She turned in mid-air, her face smeared with blood and soot, and the instant she felt the absurd pressure pulling even her magic away—she understood.

"Retreat!" she yelled, amplifying her voice with pure mana. "ALL RANKS, IMMEDIATE WITHDRAWAL!"

Barriers rose. Portals were hastily opened. Allied witches began to flee, dragging the wounded, abandoning positions, abandoning pride.

Some couldn't.

They were sucked in.

The core grew.

Each devoured dark witch made the vortex pulse stronger, more stable, more dangerous. Ancient symbols began to spiral around the opening—runes that Kael recognized with a shudder.

Runes of existential anchoring.

"If this is completed…" Kael thought.

"This becomes a fixed point of Chaos. Permanent."

He took a step forward, ignoring the body screaming in pain.

"Kael, NO—!" Sylphie screamed behind him.

But he was already looking at the core, calculating something impossible.

"Maybe… if I cut the flow—"

That's when the world vanished.

There was no warning.

No detectable hostile presence.

No mana displacement.

Just… impact.

Something pierced Kael like an invisible meteor.

The blow struck him in the abdomen with enough force to completely pierce his body. Not a cut. Not an explosion.

A hole.

Flesh, shadow, and bone were pierced in a single instant. Kael felt the shock before the pain—the absurd sensation of being lifted off the ground, the world spinning violently as air escaped his lungs in a silent gush.

His body was thrown backward.

No—thrown.

He flew toward the core of Chaos like a broken projectile, blood scattering in the air in droplets that were immediately sucked into the vortex.

The pain came next.

Overwhelming.

White.

Kael tried to breathe.

He failed.

He tried to move.

His body didn't respond.

"Shit…" was the only thought he could muster.

As he spun in the air, on the verge of being devoured by the core, he saw—for a fraction of a second—the silhouette of his attacker.

A woman.

She appeared out of nowhere, as if she had always been there.

Tall. Elegant. Barefoot in the air.

Her dark hair floated slowly, completely ignoring the suction force that ripped buildings from the ground. Her eyes gleamed with a cruel, almost intimate pleasure.

She laughed.

Not a loud laugh.

A lewd, low, satisfied laugh—like someone who had finally managed to touch something they had wanted to break for a long time.

Kael tried to focus his vision.

It was impossible.

He felt no mana.

No Chaos.

He felt absolutely nothing coming from her.

This terrified him more than the pain.

"Who…?" he tried to think.

She tilted her head slightly, watching him being pulled toward the abyss, as if appreciating a work of art.

And then she spoke—not loud enough for the others to hear, but perfectly audible to him:

"Oops." She smiled.

Kael was swallowed by the darkness of the core.

And the sky above the kingdom tore open.