Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

The mansion was silent as Kael stepped through the gates, a kind of silence that wasn't exactly peace, but a strange absence of sound, as if the place were waiting for something—or someone. The imposing structure stood before him, illuminated only by a few interior lights escaping through the tall windows, creating soft shadows in the garden. His steps were heavier now, not from physical exertion, but from something deeper, something that seemed to have accumulated along the way back. Unlike the palace, he no longer carried the bag, there was no dripping blood, there were no witnesses. Just him.

As he crossed the main door, the mansion's internal warmth immediately enveloped him, bringing with it the familiar scent of wood, candles, and something slightly sweet that always seemed to be present in that place. It was an almost uncomfortable contrast to what he had left behind. Kael closed the door slowly behind him, the sound echoing through the spacious hall, and for a brief moment he just stood there, as if trying to adjust to the change of environment. His shoulders relaxed a little, but not completely. The weariness was still there, heavy, persistent.

Amelia was already there.

She stood in the center of the hall, as if she had been waiting long before he arrived, her arms slightly tense at her sides and her eyes fixed on him with an intensity that mixed worry and anticipation. As soon as she saw him, she took a small step forward, as if wanting to get closer, but something made her hesitate mid-movement. Perhaps it was his expression. Perhaps it was the silence.

"Are you alright?"

The question came out faster than she probably intended, laden with a concern she didn't try to hide. Her eyes scanned Kael quickly, as if searching for visible injuries, signs of a struggle, anything that would justify the weight that seemed to be on him.

Kael didn't answer immediately.

He walked a few steps inside, passing her slowly, as if needing a few seconds to organize his thoughts before putting them into words. His breathing was steady, but there was something weary in the way he moved, as if each action required more energy than it should. He ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes for a moment too brief to be rest, but long enough to betray exhaustion.

"I've solved it."

The answer was simple, direct, but not enough.

Amelia turned to follow him with her gaze, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"Solves it… how?"

The question wasn't naive.

She already knew.

Or at least suspected.

Kael paused for a second, his back to her, as if considering how much he should say. The silence that followed wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't avoided either. He didn't seem like someone trying to hide something—just someone too tired to bother softening the truth.

"The children were dead."

The words fell on the surface with a dry weight, unprepared, unsoftened. He didn't turn to look at her as he spoke, as if saying that was enough.

Amelia froze for a moment.

It was as if the air had been pulled from the room.

Kael continued, his voice still low, but firm, like someone reporting unavoidable facts.

"They were being used. Feeding… experiments… I don't know exactly." He paused briefly, as if trying to decide if it was worth explaining further. "But they weren't alive when I arrived."

The silence that followed was heavier this time.

Amelia slowly brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening as she tried to process it. The image formed in her mind without permission, too detailed, too cruel. She shook her head slightly, as if wanting to push the thought away, but couldn't quite manage it.

"And the vampires…?"

The question came out lower now, almost hesitant.

Kael finally turned to look at her.

His eyes weren't empty, but they weren't exactly present either. There was something distant there, something that hadn't yet fully returned from that mission.

"I finished them off."

There was no pride in his voice.

Nor anger.

Just fact.

Amelia felt her stomach churn slightly, not from doubting his abilities, but from the way it was said. Too simple. Too direct. As if eliminating dozens of lives was just another task completed.

She took a step back without realizing it.

"All…?"

Kael nodded slightly.

"All."

Silence filled the space between them again, but now heavy with something denser, harder to ignore. Amelia looked at him as if trying to find some different reaction, some sign that it had affected him the same way it was affecting her.

"Kael… this…" She stopped, unable to finish the sentence immediately. "This was… a lot."

It was a weak attempt to express something much bigger.

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, but her eyes still carried the shock.

"Are you okay?"

The question returned, but now more careful, deeper.

It wasn't about physical injuries anymore.

Kael observed her for a few seconds before answering.

He seemed to seriously consider the question this time, as if trying to identify the answer within himself.

Then he nodded slightly.

"I am."

But there was a small pause before that.

Too small to ignore.

"I'm just… tired."

The way he said it made it seem like "tired" wasn't just physical. It was something deeper, more accumulated, something that couldn't be resolved simply with rest.

Amelia watched him silently for another moment, as if assessing whether she should insist, ask more, try to understand better. But something in his posture—perhaps the way his shoulders were slightly hunched, or the invisible weight that seemed to accompany every movement—made her give up.

She nodded slowly.

"Then go upstairs."

Her voice was softer now, more careful.

"Take a shower… and sleep."

It was simple.

But it was what she could offer at that moment.

Kael agreed with a slight nod, without arguing, without reasoning. He was already moving towards the stairs before the conversation had even completely ended, as if his body were automatically following the suggestion.

His steps were slower now.

Heavier.

The sound echoed softly through the hall as he climbed the first steps, his hand brushing lightly along the banister as if it were more of a point of support than a casual gesture.

Amelia remained standing where she was, watching him climb, her eyes still carrying concern, but now also something quieter—acceptance, perhaps.

Kael climbed a few more steps.

And then he stopped.

His eyes lifted.

At the top of the stairs, partially shrouded in the shadow of the upper corridor, stood Elizabeth.

She hadn't been there before.

Or perhaps she had, but no one noticed.

Her eyes were red, not from anger, but from tears that had been held back for too long. Her body trembled slightly, her arms close to her body as if trying to hold on, but failing little by little.

She had heard.

Everything.

There was no doubt.

The silence between them was immediate and heavy.

Kael said nothing.

He simply watched her.

And, for a brief second, something crossed his expression—something that hadn't been there before.

Perhaps regret.

Perhaps heightened weariness.

Perhaps just the awareness that this consequence was inevitable.

Elizabeth took a small step back.

Then another.

As if his presence there, at that moment, was too much to bear.

Her lips moved, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

And then she turned.

And ran.

The sound of hurried footsteps faded down the upper corridor in a few seconds, leaving only the echo and the silence behind.

Kael stood still for a moment.

Just staring at the empty space where she was.

Then he let out a low sigh.

Slow.

Heavy.

He ran a hand over his face once more before turning his head slightly downward, toward Amelia.

Their eyes met hers.

"Can you handle this?"

The question was direct, but the way it was phrased carried something different—it wasn't indifference, but limitation.

"I'm out of energy."

It wasn't an excuse.

It was the truth.

Amelia held his gaze for a moment, absorbing what that really meant. She glanced quickly at the top of the stairs, where Elizabeth had run, and then back at Kael.

She nodded.

"I'll try."

The answer wasn't confident.

But it was sincere.

Kael kept his gaze on her for another second, as if he wanted to say something more, but decided against it. Instead, he simply nodded slightly and resumed climbing the stairs, resuming the interrupted movement.

His footsteps gradually faded into the upper floor.

The sound ceased.

And then only silence remained again.

Amelia remained motionless for a few seconds, breathing deeply, organizing her thoughts before acting.

Amelia remained motionless for a few seconds, breathing deeply as she tried to organize her thoughts, as if each piece of information received was still slowly fitting inside her, too heavy to be processed all at once. The silence of the mansion seemed even denser now, as if it had absorbed everything that had been said and was returning it in the form of invisible pressure on her shoulders. She brought one hand to her face, lightly rubbing her temple, feeling the beginning of a pain that wasn't exactly physical, but wasn't entirely emotional either.

She let out a long sigh, one of those that seem to carry more than just air, and let her head fall slightly back for a moment, staring at the ceiling as if expecting to find some answer there. She didn't, of course. Only the weight of the situation returning with greater clarity. Her shoulders relaxed a little, not from relief, but from resignation.

"I got tired just thinking about it…"

The sentence came out low, almost like a comment lost in the empty space, but sincere enough to minimally alleviate the tension within her. It wasn't a physical tiredness like Kael's, it wasn't something accumulated from action, but it was still exhausting—to imagine, to understand, to accept.

Her eyes then moved slowly towards the stairs.

The upper corridor seemed darker now, silent in a different way, heavy with Elizabeth's recent escape. Amelia knew that this kind of reaction wasn't something that resolved itself, not after what had been heard. Not after what had been understood.

She took another deep breath, this time more controlled, as if gathering what remained of her emotional energy before moving. Her fingers closed slightly, in an unconscious gesture of preparation.

"Okay…"

She murmured to herself, firmer now, even if not entirely confident.

Her steps began toward the stairs, slow at first, almost hesitant, but gaining consistency as she advanced.