Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls-Chapter 415: Quiet ambition.

The hot water slowly trickled down the black stone floor, disappearing into the enchanted grooves of the royal bathroom. Steam still hung in the air as Kael took his last step out of the tub, feeling his body... light.

It wasn't just physical cleansing.

It was as if something had settled within him during the night—the Chaos, the new organ, the connection to Inari—everything was in balance. For the first time since he had woken up, he didn't feel the constant weight of forces fighting each other.

He took a deep breath.

"...Hah," he let out, running his hand through his still damp hair. "This helps more than I expected."

Two witch-maids waited in respectful silence near the door. They were not young apprentices; their auras betrayed centuries of practice, power contained under absolute discipline. Both bowed slightly as he stepped out.

"Lord Kael," one of them said in a calm voice. "If you'll allow us."

Before he could respond, precise gestures activated subtle enchantments. The steam dissipated, the moisture left his skin, and a soft cloth appeared, drying him without direct contact.

"You are too efficient," he commented, somewhat amused.

"The Queen's order," replied the other witch, without smiling, but with a glint of pride in her eyes.

On an obsidian structure lay the clothes prepared for him.

Kael paused for a moment when he saw them.

It was a deep black kimono, the kind of black that seemed to absorb the light around it. The fabric was unusual—there was mana woven into every thread, resistant like light armor, fluid like silk. Along the sleeves and bottom, ancient demons were carved into artistic patterns, their golden eyes shining discreetly depending on the angle of the light.

Golden dragons snaked between them, not in combat, but in harmony—symbols of tamed power, not chaotic.

"...That's—" Kael whistled softly—"quite luxurious."

The witches began to help him into the garment, adjusting each layer with ritualistic precision.

"It was made in the Arcane Forges of the Old Underground," one of them explained. "Each symbol responds to your aura. The more stable it is, the quieter the suit becomes."

"What if I lose control?" he asked, half-serious.

"Then it will burn before allowing the palace to be affected," the witch replied without hesitation. "Also the Queen's order."

Kael laughed.

"Of course it is."

When the last adjustment was made, an enchanted mirror appeared in front of him. Kael watched his own reflection for a few seconds.

The kimono fell perfectly over his shoulders. It didn't make him look like a traditional wizard... or a warrior.

He looked like someone who didn't need to prove anything.

"My grandmother has an intense sense of aesthetics," he commented.

"The Queen believes that appearance is also a form of language," replied the witch. "And that the world needs to start learning to read you correctly."

Kael was silent for a moment.

Then he nodded.

"Right." He turned. "Let's go find her."

The path to the upper chambers of the palace was quiet, but not empty. Witches from different circles stopped discreetly as he passed. Some bowed. Others just watched, evaluating, curious.

The news had spread.

Kael was awake.

And not only that.

He was... whole.

The large ebony doors opened without a sound.

The Witch Queen's inner hall was not ostentatious. There was no raised throne, no gold scattered about. Just a large circular room, tall windows letting in the afternoon light, books floating slowly in the air, and a huge magic circle engraved on the floor—ancient, deep, alive.

In the center, sitting in a simple armchair, was she.

His grandmother.

The Witch Queen.

She looked up as soon as Kael entered.

And smiled.

"Finally," she said, resting her chin on her hand. "You took your time." Eleonor said, smiling.

Eleanor rested her elbow on the arm of the chair, watching Kael with genuine attention, the kind of look that mixed affection, calculation, and an inevitable hint of pride. Her smile was not just welcoming—it was confirming.

"Finally," she repeated calmly. "You took your time."

Kael let out a short laugh and tilted his head slightly.

"Sleeping after nearly dying tends to do that to people."

"Hmph." She made a vague gesture with her hand. "Acceptable excuse. Just this once."

He approached, sitting down in front of her without excessive ceremony. There was no need. Between them, titles were irrelevant.

"You seem... different," Eleonor commented, her eyes shining slightly as she analyzed his aura. "Not just stronger. More whole."

"It's the best way I've found to describe it too," Kael replied. "The things inside me... they've stopped fighting all the time."

"That's rare," she said. "And dangerous. Balance attracts attention."

"I know." Kael sighed. "That's why I came to talk to you before doing anything."

Eleonor raised an eyebrow.

"Anything" usually means something big when it comes from you.

Kael rested his forearms on his knees.

"I'm leaving soon," he said bluntly. "I'm going to the human realm."

Her smile didn't fade. On the contrary, it became sharper.

"I figured."

"Irelia and Amelia," he continued. "It's been over a year. They don't know I've woken up."

Eleonor let out a low, almost amused laugh.

"Cruel," she said bluntly. "Very cruel."

Kael grimaced slightly.

"I know how it sounds."

"No, no," she raised a finger. "It doesn't 'sound' that way. It is that way. You disappear, leaving two girls believing they've lost you... and when you wake up, you just go on with your life here?"

She tilted her head theatrically.

"If I were them, I'd hit you before I kissed you."

Kael laughed, despite the tightness in his chest.

"I'd deserve it."

Eleonor stood up, walking slowly across the room as she spoke.

"Still," she continued, "it's good that you're going after them. Very good." She stopped in front of one of the windows. "They've grown a lot this past year."

Kael looked up.

"Have you been watching?"

"I watch everything that matters," she replied casually. "Irelia is no longer just talented. She is a blade now. Sharp. Conscious. Her blows carry weight."

Kael smiled proudly.

"That sounds like her."

"Amelia..." Eleonor paused briefly. "Amelia has learned to hide her heart better. But her power has matured in interesting ways. Less explosion, more precision."

Kael was silent for a moment.

"I should have been there."

Eleonor turned to face him.

"Maybe." She didn't sugarcoat her answer. "But the world didn't give you that option."

She approached him again and stopped in front of him.

"What matters now is how you return. Not as someone who needs to be forgiven... but as someone who chooses to stay."

Kael nodded slowly.

"I don't intend to go as king. Nor as a weapon." He took a deep breath. "Just as Kael."

Her gaze softened.

"Good." She smiled. "Because they don't need a savior. They need someone to walk alongside them."

She sat back down, crossing her legs elegantly.

"Still," she added, "don't think it will be easy. A year changes people. Especially when they think they've been left behind."

"I know," Kael said. "But I'd rather deal with their pain than my cowardice."

Eleonor watched him for a few seconds, in absolute silence.

Then she nodded.

"You really have grown up."

She held out her hand, and a small magical symbol glowed briefly between her fingers before fading away.

"When you go," she said, "take this as advice from someone who has buried entire eras: don't try to recover what was. Build what can be."

Kael stood up.

"Thank you, Grandma."

She waved her hand dismissively.

"Go." A mischievous smile appeared. "Before Inari decides to hunt you down for leaving your bed without warning."

Kael choked on his own laughter.

"She wouldn't—"

"Oh, she would," Eleonor interrupted, laughing. "Goddesses are possessive. Foxes? Even worse."

Kael walked toward the exit, lighter than when he entered.

Before crossing the door, he heard her voice once more.

"Kael."

He turned around.

"Bring them back alive." Her eyes sparkled. "And in one piece."

Kael smiled confidently.

"I always do."

...

The scene changed smoothly, as if the world itself had turned a page.

The Emperor's Palace rose in layers of white marble and polished obsidian, gigantic columns supporting ceilings so high that the clouds seemed like permanent guests. Imperial runes were engraved on every arch, every step, pulsing with an ancient authority—not oppressive, but absolute.

Amelia walked down the central corridor alongside her aunt.

Hela Valroth, Advisor to the Emperor.

Tall, impeccably poised, dark green hair pulled back into a severe bun, Hela exuded the kind of presence that made generals shut up before she even spoke. Her gaze was sharp, calculating, but not devoid of affection—especially when it fell on her niece.

Amelia wore an adapted imperial uniform: functional, elegant, made for battle and politics at the same time. She was no longer the girl who followed Kael a few steps behind.

She walked at the same pace as Hela.

"You've been avoiding the subject," Hela commented, without looking directly at her, as they passed through a golden arch. "So I'll ask you clearly.

Amelia kept her gaze ahead.

"Ask what, Aunt?"

Hela smiled sidelong.

"Aren't you going to visit him?"

Amelia's step did not falter.

"Kael is still in a coma," she replied firmly. "At least that's what we know. My teacher hasn't contacted me once since then."

She clenched her fists slightly.

"If anything had changed... I would know."

Hela watched her now, with genuine attention.

"And yet you didn't go."

"No," Amelia confirmed.

Hela raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

The corridor opened onto an inner garden, with fountains of crystalline mana flowing silently. Amelia slowed her pace for a moment, as if organizing her thoughts.

"Because I don't want to return to him the same way I left," she said at last.

Hela stopped walking.

So did Amelia.

The two stood face to face.

"Explain," Hela asked, without harshness.

Amelia took a deep breath.

"When Kael fell..." she began, "I realized something I hated to admit. I depended on him more than I thought. Not just emotionally. In power. In decision-making. In direction."

She looked up, serious.

"I don't want to be someone he needs to protect." I want to be someone he can trust... truly.

Hela was silent for a few seconds.

Then she laughed.

Not a loud laugh—but a genuine, unexpected one.

"Ah..." she said, shaking her head. "You two are really alike."

Amelia blinked, surprised.

"Alike?"

"Proud. Stubborn. And incredibly cruel to yourselves," Hela replied. "Do you think he'd like to know that you're pulling away because you want to be 'worthy'?"

Amelia pressed her lips together.

"It's not worthiness. It's... preparation."

Hela took a step forward and touched her niece's shoulder. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

"Amelia," she said with rare gentleness, "I never knew Kael beyond that encounter when you were little, but I don't think he ever chose weak people to walk beside him. Not you. Not anyone.

She tilted her head, studying her.

"Still..." she continued, "I understand.

Amelia relaxed a little.

"I'm training every day," she said. "Studying. Learning to deal with politics, strategy, applied magic. If he wakes up tomorrow... I want to be able to look him in the eye without feeling like I've stood still."

Hela nodded slowly.

"Quiet ambition." A proud smile appeared. "Very good."