Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls-Chapter 424: Forests

The forest behind the Ainsworth mansion was ancient.

Not in the obvious sense—large trees, thick roots, high canopies—but in something deeper, almost invisible. The air there seemed to carry memory. Each of Kael's steps on the leaf-covered ground produced a muffled sound, as if the very ground absorbed his presence in respectful silence.

He walked slowly.

There was no escort. No weapons drawn. Only him, his body still adjusting to a force that seemed greater than before, and his heart carrying an expectation he pretended not to nurture too much.

The clearing appeared naturally, as if the forest had decided to open it for him.

An almost perfect circle, bathed in a soft light that filtered through the high canopies. In the center, the ground was clean, covered in short, living grass, pulsing with a tranquil energy. There were no showy flowers, no visible ancient symbols. Yet, Kael felt—this was a point where the roots of the world intersected.

He stopped.

He took a deep breath.

The air entered his lungs with a different freshness, laden with moisture, resin, and something harder to define. Life, perhaps. Presence.

Kael walked to the center of the clearing and sat down, crossing his legs on the cold grass. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting his shoulders relax, allowing his body to adjust to the rhythm of the place.

The silence there wasn't empty.

It was attentive.

"...Let's talk," he finally said, his voice low but firm.

He didn't speak loudly. He didn't shout. There was no need.

He wasn't calling the forest.

He was calling that which existed within it.

"Yggdrasil," he continued, now with more intention.

Nothing answered.

Not wind. Not a change in the light. Not that subtle shiver that usually accompanied greater presences.

Kael slowly opened his eyes, gazing at the surrounding trees.

"I didn't come to ask for favors," he said, as if anticipating a silent refusal. "Nor to demand answers. Just… to talk."

He rested his hands on his knees.

"I know you listen. You always have."

Silence remained.

Kael took another deep breath, feeling the frustration try to creep in—and pushed it away. This wasn't a duel. It wasn't a negotiation. Forcing it would only push him further away.

"I woke up," he said then. "After the void."

The words seemed heavier there, spoken in that place.

"I was trapped inside myself for too long. I thought I had accepted… but it wasn't acceptance. It was giving up."

He closed his eyes again.

"Sylphie wouldn't give up," he murmured. "She never gave up."

Nothing.

Not even an echo.

Kael pressed his fingers lightly against the grass.

"I just want to know if she's alright," he said, his voice lower now. "I don't want to break cycles. I don't want shortcuts. Just… to know."

Time passed.

Minutes, maybe more.

The light moved slowly across the leaves, marking the passage of hours almost imperceptibly. A bird landed on a distant branch, observed, and then flew away. An insect crossed the clearing and disappeared among the roots.

Yggdrasil remained silent.

Kael opened his eyes again.

"I know you don't answer when you want to," he said, with a slight, tired smile. "It's always been like that. But you also know when someone speaks the truth."

He leaned forward slightly.

"I've lost so much. People. Paths. Parts of myself." His voice didn't falter, but it was more restrained. "And, for a while… I thought losing you was inevitable too."

The wind passed softly through the treetops.

It wasn't an answer.

It was just wind.

Kael let out a slow breath.

"I'll keep trying," he said, not as a challenge, but as a promise. "Today, tomorrow, as many times as it takes. Even if you never answer."

He remained silent for a long time after that.

He didn't call. He didn't speak.

He just sat.

He felt the grass under his hands. The earth beneath his body. The living pulse of the forest, constant, indifferent, and yet deeply connected to everything.

As the sun began to set, Kael finally stood up.

There was no anger on his face.

Nor disappointment.

Only acceptance.

"It seems you don't want to talk to me," he said softly, before turning away. "I'll come back tomorrow." Kael walked slowly back to the clearing.

There was no rush to leave, but there was nothing more to do there at that moment. The forest wasn't driving him away—it was simply ignoring him. And, strangely, that hurt less than he expected.

He walked a few meters, feeling the light shift as the treetops closed again above his head. The distant sound of the Ainsworth mansion no longer reached that point; there, only leaves, wind, and the ancient rhythm of the earth existed.

Kael sighed.

"I miss you, Sylphie," he murmured, without stopping walking. His voice came out low, almost childlike, as if saying something that shouldn't be heard by anyone but her. "And it's… kind of annoying that you keep preventing me from even seeing you."

He gave a crooked half-smile, shaking his head.

"You've always been like this. Stubborn. Dramatic. Always thinking you know what's best for everyone…"

His pace slowed.

"Including me."

That's when it happened.

"She doesn't want to see you, idiot."

The voice came out of nowhere.

It didn't come from the front. Nor from behind. Nor from the surrounding trees.

It came from everywhere—and, at the same time, from nowhere.

Kael stopped abruptly.

His heart gave an instinctive leap, his body reacting before his mind. He turned immediately, his gaze sweeping the surrounding forest, his hand already moving reflexively… only to find empty air.

"...What?" he murmured.

Silence.

No visible presence. No evident magical pressure. No sign of hostility.

The forest remained exactly the same.

"Hey," he said, now more attentive. "Was that you?"

Nothing.

Kael frowned.

He knew voices. Spirits. Entities. Mental echoes. Post-coma illusions. This hadn't sounded like any of them.

"Yggdrasil?", he called, testing.

No answer.

He took a deep breath, trying to reorganize his thoughts.

"'She doesn't want to see me'...", he repeated in a low voice. "What kind of bad joke is that?"

There was no answer.

Kael ran a hand over his face, feeling his forehead slightly warm.

"Great," he murmured. "Now, besides being ignored, I'm being insulted by invisible trees."

He took a few more steps, cautiously, attentive to any distortion in the air, any change in the pulse of the forest. Nothing happened.

No attack. No manifestation.

The voice simply… disappeared.

Kael stopped again, now completely still.

There was no fear on his face.

There was confusion.

And something else.

"That wasn't silence," he said to himself. "It was… an answer."

He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the tone.

It wasn't solemn. Nor ancient. Nor distant like Yggdrasil used to be.

It was direct.

Ironic.

Almost… irritated.

"'Idiot'…", he murmured, incredulous. "Since when does the heart of the world speak like that?"

A slight shiver ran down his spine.

Not of threat.

Of recognition.

Kael slowly opened his eyes and looked at the trees ahead, as if trying to see something beyond the bark and leaves.

"Sylphie…?", he ventured, without much conviction.

No answer.

But this time, the silence seemed… different.

Less empty. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

More attentive.

Kael let out a long sigh, shaking his head with a tired and confused smile at the same time.

"Okay," he said aloud. "If it was you… that was cruel. And if it wasn't… congratulations, you managed to make me paranoid."

He turned around again, resuming his path back to the mansion.

"Anyway," he added, almost provocatively, "I'll be back tomorrow. Whether you like it or not."

The forest didn't answer.

But as Kael walked away, the leaves above him stirred gently—even without enough wind to justify it.

And, for a brief moment, something ancient and watchful watched his back.

...

Far beyond the known forests, beyond the borders of the Empire and the lines that mortals used to call the world, there was a place where time didn't run—it only breathed.

The waterfall cascaded in a continuous, perfect flow, as if it had never begun and would never end. The water plunged from an impossible height, dissolving into luminous mist before even touching the lake below, scattering particles of living mana through the air.

There, on a large, smooth stone in the center, Sylphie sat.

Her body lay in the lotus position, perfectly balanced, as if part of the rock itself. Her eyes were closed, her expression serene. The waterfall's water cascaded directly over her head, running down her fair hair and face without causing any discomfort—as if the world had adjusted its laws just to avoid disturbing her.

She didn't breathe like someone alive.

She pulsed.

Each invisible beat of energy made the surrounding water vibrate slightly, creating gentle circles in the lake below. Colossal roots sprouted from the surrounding stone walls, intertwining like ancient veins, all converging at that point.

Then, the space behind her folded.

There was no sound of footsteps.

Yggdrasil was simply there.

"He's trying to talk to you," Yggdrasil said, his voice echoing like wood creaking softly in the wind.

The waterfall continued to fall.

Sylphie opened her eyes.

They didn't reflect the water, nor the light—they reflected the whole world, as if she were looking through it. Slowly, she turned her face to Yggdrasil, her expression tranquil, almost amused.

"I know," she replied.

Her voice was soft, but it carried something ancient. Something that didn't ask permission.

Yggdrasil watched her silently for a moment.

"He insists," he commented. "He sat in the clearing. He spoke to the trees. He spoke to me… even without knowing it."

Sylphie smiled.

A small smile, but full of meaning.

"It's not time yet," she said. "Just let him talk."

The water streamed down her face, but it didn't extinguish the gleam in her eyes.

"He needs to feel," Sylphie continued, her tone almost tender. "He needs to regret… and miss you."

Yggdrasil tilted its head slightly.

"You know that hurts him."

Sylphie closed her eyes again, returning to her perfect position, motionless beneath the waterfall.

"I know," she replied without hesitation. "But he only truly listens when the silence hurts."