Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls-Chapter 374: Skaldi’s situation

Kael was already standing at the door, ready to leave. His clothes were adjusted, his hair still damp from the shower, and his gaze torn between duty and... her.

Elion approached slowly, as if each step were part of an ancient ritual.

The kitchen light still touched her red hair, and the white lingerie seemed designed to remind Kael of what he was leaving behind.

"So... you’re really going." Her voice came low, soft as tearing silk.

Kael opened his mouth to answer, but Elion didn’t give him time.

She held his face with both hands—firm, cold in the palm, warm in intention—and pulled him into a kiss.

Not a quick kiss.

Not a goodbye kiss.

A kiss that took all the air out of the world.

Deep. Hasty. Devoted. As if she were trying to imprint on him everything she felt and never said aloud.

Kael instinctively grabbed her waist, pulling her even closer. The touch of her skin beneath the lace almost made his legs give way. Elion smiled against his mouth—a smile that said, "This is exactly how I wanted to leave you."

The kiss grew slower, more tense, more full of unspoken things.

When she finally pulled away, it was only a few millimeters—her lips still touching his, their warm breaths mingling.

Elion’s eyes were different.

Softer.

More dangerous.

More... sincere.

"Come back whole," she whispered, resting her forehead against his. "Or I swear I’ll carry you all the way to Skaldi."

Kael gave a short, husky laugh.

"You really would."

"Of course I would." She slid her thumb across his mouth, as if memorizing something. "You’re mine."

He took a deep breath, trying to regain some self-control.

"I’ll come back. I promise."

Elion closed his eyes for a moment, as if holding the promise within himself.

Then, he gave her one last kiss—quick, but intense—on the corner of his mouth, an intimate, possessive, and affectionate gesture all at once.

"Then go... before I make you break your promise and stay."

Kael took a step back, his chest still burning from the kiss.

"Would that be so bad?" he teased.

She smiled. That smile.

"For you? Probably.

For me?" She shrugged. "It would be delicious."

Kael laughed, defeated.

And, with his heart pounding like a drum and his mouth still warm from her kiss, he finally turned to the door.

"I’ll be back before sunset," he promised again.

"I’ll be waiting with my legs spread," Elion replied, leaning against the doorframe with the calm of a creature who knew exactly the effect she had on him.

And as he passed through the portal, Kael realized he was leaving something behind... ’Damn... she’s making me feel this way again,’ he thought before, but laughed and disappeared inside the portal.

The re-entry was quick—the light changed, the temperature changed, even the feeling in the air was different. The main courtyard of the Witch Kingdom opened before him, wide, circular, filled with those floating crystals of ancient energy that always vibrated when he arrived.

A younger witch who was sweeping the courtyard looked up and immediately stopped, bowing her head in respect.

"Prince Kael... welcome back."

He responded with a brief gesture. His body still carried a very specific weariness, and his mind was still stuck on the image of Elion with that insolent smile... but, as he crossed the courtyard, his posture changed.

Each step inside that castle was a reminder:

Now he was the prince of chaos and the direct successor to the Witch Queen.

Now he had an entire kingdom watching him. Now the focus was on Skaldi.

The tall doors of the main hall swung open as he approached—they always did, recognizing his aura as if it were a living key.

The corridor was long, illuminated by the lilac embers that flickered in lanterns of living metal. Shadows danced on the walls, creating shapes that moved on their own—ancient guardians, watching as he passed.

Kael took a deep breath.

Despite everything, being there always gave a strange feeling of... home. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

The door to the room opened with a silent push. Eleanor was there, of course—seated on her throne of living wood and golden thorns, observing a set of maps suspended in the air, all folding and rearranging themselves as reports arrived.

She looked up the instant she sensed his presence.

And her expression changed.

From the absolute neutrality of a queen...

...to a gentle, grandmotherly smile.

"You came back sooner than I expected, Kael."

He closed the door behind him, walked to the center of the room, and tilted his head slightly.

"I’m back, Grandma."

Eleanor blinked slowly, as if confirming that he was really there.

"And...? Are you alright?"

"Alright enough." Kael replied, with that tired half-smile that only she fully understood.

Eleanor let out a "hmm," crossing her hands in her lap.

"I imagine your... mother was cooperative." Kael looked away for a second.

Kael couldn’t finish the sentence.

Because, the second Eleanor spoke, his brain simply froze.

The Witch Queen uncrossed her legs with all the calm in the world, leaned slightly on the throne, and inhaled the air like someone evaluating a rare wine.

"I can smell it."

Kael blinked, confused. "...What smell?"

Eleanor raised an eyebrow with that dangerous elegance only an ancient witch could wield.

"Kael, my dear... I know the smell of my daughter’s insides."

He choked on his own breath.

"G-Grandma??"

"And also," she continued, utterly impassive, pointing slightly at him with a minimal gesture—"I know the smell of your fluids."

Kael turned red so quickly it seemed he’d just received a magical shock.

"I-I... that... isn’t—! G-Grandma, for the love of the gods, don’t talk like that!"

Eleanor merely rested her chin on her fingers, watching his shame spread like wildfire.

"I’m sorry, my dear, but you entered my hall reeking of satisfied Elion," she paused, "A particularly... unmistakable aroma."

"W-well... it was the price to pay for her to accept me coming here without... freaking out."

Eleanor assessed her grandson—her expression softening, but still playfully judgmental.

"Ah, yes. Diplomatic negotiation." She smiled. "I presume you... put quite a bit of effort into that."

Kael almost fell to his knees. "GRANDMA! STOP!"

Eleanor laughed—a light, melodious laugh that made the plants tremble around her, as if sharing in the amusement.

"Alright, alright. I’ll spare your dignity" for now. "But know that your "negotiation" with my daughter isn’t over; when you get back, we’ll "negotiate" in the same way."

Kael’s eyes widened. "Tsk, you old hussy," Kael said.

"Calling me a hussy is quite arrogant, considering you attacked my ass and happily ate it," Eleanor confirmed, returning to her queenly tone. "And since you survived your... diplomatic contribution... we can continue. We have much to discuss regarding Skaldi."

Kael straightened up and took a deep breath.

The blush still burned on his face, but his posture was now serious—the "war prince" mode replacing existential shame.

"Right. What did Exelia discover?"

Eleonor snapped her fingers—a soft sound, but one that resonated throughout the hall as if launched against the very air.

The surrounding crystal towers lit up slowly, spilling bluish light across the floor.

A large runic circle opened before the throne, shimmering with patterns that moved like serpents.

"Exelia," Eleonor called, with that voice that didn’t ask; it summoned.

The shadow beside the room folded in on itself, and a figure emerged from it.

"My prince." Exelia inclined her head to Kael. "Queen."

Kael had always liked her... and at the same time, feared her a little.

Exelia carried the same "I can kill you smiling" feeling as Elion and Eleonor, only with less chaos and more efficiency.

"You may begin." Eleonor ordered calmly.

Exelia took a step inside the runic circle. The magic reacted immediately—and a three-dimensional map of the Kingdom of Skaldi appeared, made of light and translucent ice.

Kael approached, his expression now truly serious.

Exelia began: "General situation: bad, but not irreversible."

She spun the map with a wave of her hand—mountains, forests, and fortresses of Skaldi rearranging themselves.

"The Black Witches didn’t take the kingdom by brute force.

They took it by infiltration, manipulation, and..." she frowned slightly, "corruption of cold."

Kael tilted his head. "Corruption?"

Exelia touched a point on the map—the capital of Skaldi, Skarnhold.

The projected ice darkened, becoming as black as liquid smoke.

"They are using something that is not theirs. Something ancient. Something that... shouldn’t respond to the touch of mortals."

Eleonor narrowed her eyes. "Show us."

Exelia shifted the projection: now, it showed the kingdom’s northern wall—covered in a dark mist that seemed alive, twisted, pulsating.

Kael felt a shiver run down his spine.

"Do you recognize this, Kael?" Exelia asked, her voice lowering.

Kael took a deep breath and approached the image.

Yes... He recognized it.

That energy... That feeling... That cold that wasn’t cold... It was something his mother had taught him. Or rather, something he knew the theory of.

"...Cold Chaos." he murmured.

Eleanor tightened her grip on the arm of the throne. "Impossible. Using Chaos is almost impossible, only Elion can do it."

Exelia shook her head.

"Then someone broke a seal. And the Black Witches are using the leakage of this energy as a power source. It’s not energy manipulation, it’s redirection. It’s probably an artifact or something."

"That’s why they grew so strong so quickly..." Kael murmured.

"Exactly." Exelia crossed her arms. "And that’s why you need to be careful. Cold Chaos is unstable. It responds to emotions. To fears. To anger."

Kael let out a cynical sigh.

"Great. An evil power that works on the basis of feelings. That never fails."

Eleanor stared at her grandson for a long time.

"Kael..." her voice softened, "there’s something more."

Exelia nodded and touched another point on the map.

The figure of a castle appeared: the central castle of Skarnhold... now enveloped by a black barrier, thorns, and living mist.

But in the center, locked in a cell of obsidian ice...

...was a figure.

Tall.

Majestic.

In broken armor.

The King of Skaldi.

"He’s alive." Exelia confirmed. "And he’s resisting as much as he can." But... he can’t take it much longer."