Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls-Chapter 375: Starting the Plans

Exelia held the map suspended, now enlarging the city area around the castle. The projection showed winding streets, alleys shrouded in black mist, and shadows moving as if with a will of their own—but also, small points of rebellious light burning here and there.

"Despite the critical situation in the palace," Exelia said, with her usual cutting calm, "resistance still exists within Skarnhold."

Kael looked up quickly, focused.

"They’re still fighting?"

"Yes." Exelia gestured, highlighting several points on the map. "Small groups—soldiers, ice mages, some generals who escaped the fall... They’ve spread throughout the city and are resisting as best they can. It’s not an organized force, but morale is surprisingly high, considering the situation."

Eleanor narrowed her eyes, assessing the lights on the map with the gaze of someone who has won more wars than the age of many kingdoms.

"But not enough to turn the tide on their own." "No," Exelia confirmed. The projection zoomed in on the castle again, showing the living barrier, pulsating like a breathing creature. "The Black Witches have gained complete control of the royal palace. This barrier prevents any direct approach—and any attempt to break it without equivalent energy would result in... well..."

"Blowing up the entire castle?" Kael suggested casually.

Exelia smiled slightly. "Something like that, my prince."

"Wonderful." Kael crossed his arms. "So the center of the kingdom is completely taken, the king is trapped in a demonic ice cube, and the streets are in chaos. Nothing I didn’t already expect."

Exelia tilted her head. "The city, however, is not yet under complete control. The Black Witches are everywhere, but... they don’t dominate the people. Not yet."

Kael took a deep breath, and his expression changed completely—from the prince embarrassed by his grandmother to the heir to chaos that he truly was. Confidence, audacity, and that dose of strategic arrogance that only Elion’s children seemed to inherit in their blood.

"It’s all right," he said, with the calm of someone about to face a dragon just to see if the dragon really bit hard. "I’ll take care of this."

Exelia didn’t doubt—she simply tilted her chin in agreement. Eleanor, however, didn’t smile this time.

The Witch Queen slowly rose from her throne.

The entire ground responded to her movement—living roots rising a few inches, lilac torches intensifying the light, shadows shrinking.

"Kael..." she called, with that voice that was half tenderness, half prophecy.

He looked at her.

"You know what this means, don’t you?"

Kael didn’t answer—but his eyes said it all.

Eleanor descended a step from the throne, approaching until she was a few steps from her grandson.

"The Frozen Chaos is loose." The words were heavy, almost physical. "And if it’s unstable, someone will have to deal with it directly."

Kael swallowed hard.

Eleanor continued:

"Either you absorb the Frozen Chaos..."

She held out her hand. The air around her seemed to freeze and vibrate at the same time.

"...or you’ll have to seal it again."

Exelia closed her eyes for a second, in respect for the gravity of it.

Kael stood still, processing the weight of the mission—and the danger, and the responsibility, and the fact that either option could kill him... or really piss Elion off when she found out.

"Absorb or seal," Kael repeated softly.

Eleanor nodded, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Either way... you’re the one who will have to face the heart of the Frozen Chaos."

Kael took a deep breath, letting the decision settle in his chest. "All right." Her voice came out firm, without hesitation. "Then tell me where the seal is."

Exelia took a deep breath—a curious habit, considering she didn’t need to breathe for anything other than to appear polite—and moved closer to the light map.

"That’s precisely the problem, my prince," she said, in that soft tone that always preceded unpleasant news. "We don’t know where the seal is."

Kael frowned.

"How can you not know? A seal of that level doesn’t disappear from the map, Exelia."

"It hasn’t disappeared," she corrected. "But it’s... distorted."

She ran her hand over the three-dimensional map. The image flickered, as if trying to reorganize itself, but being pulled in different directions.

And then—with a precise gesture—Exelia enlarged the castle.

The map responded by creating an even larger, more detailed projection of what had previously been the majestic Skarnhold Palace.

Now...

It no longer looked like a palace.

It was a frozen cathedral, a monstrous monument made of black and blue ice, with twisted spirals reaching for the sky like claws. Windows had become cracks; towers had become jagged crystals; and the main gate was engulfed by a mass of living frost that pulsed, breathed, and dripped down the walls like cold blood.

Kael felt his stomach clench.

"What the hell..." he murmured.

Exelia pointed to the center of that grotesque structure.

"The greatest concentration of Frozen Chaos is here."

Her finger traced across the projection until it stopped at the core—a heart of bluish light throbbing like an organism.

"The entire castle was reshaped by the energy leak."

"So it became an ice palace..." Kael concluded.

"A demonic palace of ice and chaos," Exelia corrected. "And the source is inside. Whether it’s the broken seal, an artifact that channels it, or... something worse."

Eleanor remained silent for a moment, analyzing every millimeter of that distorted image. There was a shadow of worry in her eyes—real, grave worry, the worry of someone who had seen this kind of thing before... and knew how bad it was.

"By concentrating the energy in the core," Exelia continued, "the castle has become the epicenter of corruption. Any creature that enters unprotected will be affected. Confusion, loss of sanity, temporal disorientation, violent impulses..."

Kael raised his hand.

"Okay, okay, I get it. Terrible place. Guaranteed death. Incredibly hostile environment."

Exelia gave a slight, almost... amused nod.

"I’m glad you understand, my prince."

Kael cracked his neck, took a deep breath, and gave that stubborn half-smile that only he had.

"So the core is in there... and the king is trapped there too."

Eleanor crossed her arms.

"If you go in, you’ll face the raw Frozen Chaos. No barrier will protect you for long." She paused. "And none of us can go in your place. The energy would react even worse to any other witch in the family."

Kael raised an eyebrow.

"Worse than it already is?"

Exelia looked directly into his eyes.

"Yes. Much worse."

Kael exhaled slowly... and smiled.

"Okay. Then I’ll go in."

Eleanor frowned.

"Kael—"

"I’ll go in," he repeated. "I’ll find the damned seal, absorb or seal this crap, save the king, and still be back before sunset."

Exelia blinked. "Before sunset?"

Eleanor pinched her nose with two long, exasperated fingernails.

"He left Elion with... complicated promises."

"Ah," Exelia murmured. "That explains the smell."

Kael threw his head back. "You two should go to a doctor, what a keen sense of smell."

Kael raised his arms above his head, stretching like someone who had just woken from a nice nap—not like someone about to invade a palace corrupted by an ancient, cursed energy.

His muscles cracked, his aura expanded slightly, and Kael let out a satisfied sigh.

"Guys... seriously." He gave a lazy, almost provocative smile. "It’s okay. Everything will be alright."

Eleanor narrowed her eyes.

Exelia tilted her head, alert.

Kael continued:

"I’ll deal with the chaotic core, rescue the king, give the Black Witches a few beatings... and that’s it. Nothing too difficult." He shrugged. "Besides, now that I have an army, it’ll be much easier."

Total silence.

Exelia blinked once.

Then again.

And again.

"...Excuse me?" she said.

Eleanor leaned forward on the throne, her expression half curious, half worried.

"Kael... my dear." Her voice came slowly, laden with anticipated judgment. "What army?"

Kael’s expression softened into a wide—and extremely pleased—smile. A smile that said he was about to drop a bombshell.

He placed his hands on his hips, with the relaxed posture of someone who knew exactly the impact of what he was about to say.

"Oh, that’s right..." He gave a low, almost amused laugh.

"You don’t know."

And he stopped there.

...

The dark ice that formed the cell breathed.

It wasn’t a metaphor—the Frozen Chaos made the walls expand and contract like sleeping lungs. The air was so cold it hurt, the kind of cold that seemed to try to gnaw at your bones from the inside out.

And in the center of that obsidian tomb...

...the King of Skaldi remained kneeling, bound by chains of living ice that writhed like lazy serpents.

He was wounded. Badly wounded. But he still had that irritating smile of someone who refuses to break.

The shadows at the entrance to the cell rippled, and a figure emerged—one of the Black Witches, tall, with a cloak made of solid smoke and eyes so dark it was impossible to tell where the pupils ended.

She stopped before him with a frigid expression.

"King Harald..." Her voice sounded like cracking glass. "...I will ask one more time."

He slowly raised his face—each movement seeming to weigh tons—and still held her gaze mockingly.

She moved a little closer.

"Where is the princess?"

Harald let out a laugh. Low, hoarse, laden with pain... and defiance.

"You... you’ve already taken the palace." He looked around, as if facing his own misery and finding humor in it. "You’ve already contaminated half the kingdom. You’ve already climbed onto my throne like vultures thinking you’re dragons."

He spat blood onto the ice.

The ice absorbed it. "Then why the hell," he raised his eyebrows, "do you want a little girl who has just come of age?"

’She must have arrived in the Empire and the witches must already know. It’s a matter of time...’ He laughed, looking at the woman in front of him...

"You want my daughter? You’ll have to kill me." He said, laughing.