Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls-Chapter 429: Meeting!

Kael was silent for a few seconds after the memory hit him.

The carriage.

The uneven sway of the road.

Younger Eva, sitting haphazardly, looking out the window… and saying it with the nonchalance of someone commenting on the weather.

"When you grow up, we'll get married."

At the time, he had laughed. Nervous. Too confused to take it seriously.

Now, standing before the gravestone, the phrase took on a completely different weight.

"Ah…" he murmured, scratching the back of his neck. "Another one of those things I conveniently pushed to the back of my memory."

Eva raised an eyebrow, amused.

"You do that with a lot of important things."

"I was twelve," he defended himself. "And you seemed perfectly capable of destroying half the world before dinner. I thought… prudent not to take that as a concrete plan."

She laughed, a light, genuine sound that broke some of the tension in the air.

"Prudent," he repeated. "Definitely not a word people use to describe me."

Kael took a deep breath.

Then, with almost ceremonial care, he stood up.

He took a few steps forward, stopping before the gravestone. He straightened his posture, as if he were before someone alive—someone who deserved respect.

Eva watched in silence.

Kael inclined his head slightly.

"Elizabeth Sparda," he said, his voice firm but sincere. "I… I don't know if I'm the right person to be here saying anything. But it would be disrespectful to say nothing."

He placed a hand on his chest.

"I've known your daughter since I was little. Since before I understood what titles, power, or choices too big for someone my age meant."

Eva crossed her arms, a discreet smile, her eyes attentive.

"She always was…" Kael searched for the right word, "…impossible to ignore. Even when I tried."

Eva let out a sound of approval.

"I'll try," Kael continued, choosing each word carefully, "not to hurt her. Not to diminish who she is. Not to ask her to be less than she was born to be."

He paused briefly, then added, with a slight crooked smile:

"Although, to be honest… she's absurdly stronger than me. So the chances of that happening the other way around are statistically higher."

For a second, there was only the soft sound of the pond water.

Then Eva laughed.

She really laughed.

"Look at you," she said, walking to stand beside him. "So respectful. So serious. My mother would have loved that."

Kael released the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding.

"I'm… relieved to hear that."

Eva tilted her head, observing the gravestone once more.

"But that part there," she pointed at it with her thumb, "about me being stronger than you?"

"It's an objective fact," Kael replied promptly.

She smiled, but there was something sharp in the glint of her eyes.

"It'll be a lie soon."

Kael stared at her.

"Eva…"

"Not now," she interrupted, in an almost casual tone. "Not tomorrow. But it will."

She moved closer, standing right in front of him.

"You grow when the world pushes you. And the world is getting… very insistent."

Kael felt a familiar shiver.

"That doesn't exactly sound comforting."

"It wasn't meant to sound that way." She smiled. "It was meant to be true."

She then turned back to the gravestone, placing her hand on the stone.

"He doesn't see everything yet, Mother," she said softly. "But he will." Then, without warning, Eva leaned back and rested her shoulder against Kael's chest, comfortable, too familiar.

"Besides," she added with a lazy smile, "if he really does become stronger than me…"

Kael raised an eyebrow.

"…I'll find that extremely interesting."

"That doesn't help my anxiety at all."

"It never has," she replied calmly.

The wind swept across the pond, making the tree leaves rustle again.

And, for a rare moment, Kael felt he wasn't in the center of a war, a prophecy, or a strained empire.

Just there.

Before someone who had chosen him.

Eva stepped away from the gravestone with one last silent look and then turned her back to Kael.

She stretched without ceremony, arms raised, spine arching slightly, like someone finally releasing the weight of something too old. The movement was lazy, feline—and familiar.

"Haaah…" she sighed, satisfied.

Then she snapped her fingers.

The sound echoed dryly in the air.

The change was instantaneous.

The combat leather outfit dissolved like crimson smoke, the distinctive red jacket dissipating into particles of light. In its place, a deep red dress emerged, long enough to dance with the wind, light as living silk. The fabric rippled gently around her legs, reflecting the light of the lagoon like calm flames.

The wind seemed to cooperate.

For a few seconds, Kael just stared.

"…" He blinked, swallowing hard. "You look… beautiful."

Eva turned her face over her shoulder.

The smile that appeared wasn't provocation.

It was simple. Genuine.

"Well," she said, turning slowly to face him, "because enough emotional funerals for today."

She took a step forward, her dress following the movement as if it had a will of its own.

"We never really had this right, did we?" she continued. "A real date. No prophecy, no impending war, no one trying to kill you along the way."

Kael chuckled softly.

"When you put it like that… it really does sound like we're late."

Eva stopped right in front of him, her hands behind her back, leaning slightly forward.

"So," she said, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "let's fix this now, shall we?" Kael held her gaze for a moment.

Then he smiled.

And nodded.

"Okay."

Eva's smile widened slightly, satisfied.

"Great." She turned and started walking, glancing over her shoulder. "Try to keep up. I promise not to run… too fast."

They left the island in silence.

The mana walkway dissolved behind them as soon as they stepped back onto the shore, dissolving into the water as if it had never existed. The forest welcomed them with a warm, vibrant air, the scent of damp earth mingling with the distant salt of the sea. The way back wasn't the same hidden shortcut—Eva chose a longer trail that snaked between ancient trees, allowing for leisurely conversation.

Kael walked beside her, still feeling the weight—and the lightness—of what had just happened.

"So," he began, after a few minutes. "Does this officially count as… a date?"

Eva tilted her head, feigning thought.

"Hm." She placed a finger on her chin. "I took you to a secret place, introduced you to my deceased mother, made a dangerously serious declaration of intent, and then dramatically changed clothes."

She smiled slightly.

"Yes. Technically, that's already passed several stages."

Kael laughed.

"Great. I was worried I'd missed some important Imperial protocol."

"Relax," she said. "If there was a protocol for this, I would have ignored it."

The forest grew less dense as they advanced. The sunlight began to open in wider beams, and the distant sounds of the city—voices, hammers, seagulls—slowly returned, like a sonic tide.

When they emerged from the trail, Veirona revealed itself again before them.

Up close, the city seemed even more alive than seen from the hill. Light stone and dark wood structures spread in smooth layers, following the natural terrain. Imperial flags fluttered near the harbor, but there were also local colors: fabrics hanging from windows, paintings on walls, ancient symbols not found on any official coat of arms.

The harbor bustled.

Merchant ships of various sizes swayed at anchor, masts creaking, sails being furled. The smell of fresh fish, spices, and wet rope filled the air. Sailors shouted instructions, merchants negotiated loudly, children ran between the stalls.

Kael took a deep breath.

"It's… definitely not a small town."

Eva smiled proudly.

"It's grown. But it still knows who it is."

She pulled him by the arm.

"Come. First step of a decent date: food."

They walked through the streets closest to the harbor to a smaller square, almost hidden between two old buildings. In the center, a simple fountain gushed crystal-clear water, and around it were wooden tables occupied by locals. Stained glass lanterns hung above, even though it was still daytime.

A discreet tavern occupied one corner of the square. There was no flashy sign—just a carved wooden plaque with the design of a stylized fish and the name: Low Tide.

Eva entered without hesitation.

Inside, the place was cozy. The low ceiling had dark wooden beams, the walls were decorated with nets, old maps, and navigational instruments. The sound was of lively conversation, but not chaotic. The kind of place where people came to stay, not just pass through.

An older woman, with gray hair tied in a loose bun, looked up from behind the counter.

"Eva?" she said, surprised. "It's been a while."

Eva flashed a smile Kael had never seen before—younger, lighter.

"Hello, Mrs. Miren."

"By all the winds…" The woman placed her hands on the counter. "You've grown."

"I disagree," Eva replied. "I've always been perfect."

Mrs. Miren snorted a laugh and then looked at Kael.

"And this one?"

Eva placed her hand on his shoulder.

"This is Kael."

Nothing more.

And, strangely, that seemed enough.

"Welcome," said Miren, already grabbing two glasses. "Sit wherever you like. Today's soup is white fish. And before you ask, Eva—yes, it's better than last time."

"Excellent," she replied. "He'll try it."

Kael blinked.

"Will I?"

Eva was already sitting down.

"Yes."

They settled at a table near the window, from where they could see part of the square. The light streamed softly in, reflecting off the glasses. When the food arrived—steaming soup, fresh bread, herbs—Kael noticed something curious.

He was relaxed.

Not alert. Not tense. Just… present.

"So," he said after a few spoonfuls. "This is the closest thing to normal my life has been in years."

Eva rested her chin on her hand.

"Normal is overrated."

"Even so." He smiled. "I like it."

She watched him for a few seconds, silent.

"You look different like this," she commented. "When you're not trying to carry the weight of the whole world."

"And you look different when you're not trying to pretend you don't care," he replied.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Careful."

"See?" Kael laughed. "Still intimidating."

After their meal, they wandered aimlessly through the city. They passed craft stalls, listened to street musicians playing local melodies, and watched fishermen mending nets. Eva greeted some people by name. Others simply waved, respectful but warm.

At one point, she pulled him into a side alley.

"Come."

"That usually precedes something dangerous," Kael commented.

"Not today."

The alley opened onto a small, almost hidden stone lookout point overlooking the open sea. The sun was beginning to set, painting the horizon orange and gold. The ships looked like silhouettes against the light.

They stopped there.

Without speaking.

The wind carried the scent of the ocean, and Eva rested her arms on the stone parapet.

"When I was a child," she said, "I used to come here whenever I needed to think."

Kael leaned against her.

"And now?"

"Now I don't think so much." She smiled. "I just choose."

He looked at her, serious this time.

"And are you sure about this choice?"

Eva turned to him.

There was no irony. No provocation.

Just certainty.

"I am."

The sun touched the horizon.

Kael took a deep breath.

"So…" He extended his hand, a little awkwardly. "Can I consider this a successful date?"

She intertwined her fingers with his.

"Kael," said Eva, looking at the sea, "this was just the beginning."