Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

The throne room of the Witch Kingdom was vast in a way that couldn’t be measured in meters or columns, but in presence, in power accumulated over ages that seemed to still echo in the black walls adorned with ancient runes that glowed softly, as if breathing along with the world itself. At the center of it all, elevated by wide steps and enveloped in an atmosphere that made the air seem denser, sat Eleanor.

Seated on her throne.

Immobile.

Majestic.

Her red hair fell like a living shadow over her shoulders, contrasting with her pale skin and intense eyes that held a kind of knowledge few would dare to gaze upon for long. She didn’t need to move to dominate the space. Her mere presence was enough to keep the hall in absolute silence, as if any unnecessary sound were considered an affront.

Time seemed slower there.

Controlled.

Submissive.

It was in this setting that the large doors of the hall slowly opened, without any formal announcement, revealing Exelia walking with calm but precise steps, like someone who perfectly understood where she was and, more importantly, before whom she stood.

In her hand, a letter.

Simple at first glance.

But clearly not ordinary.

Exelia did not quicken her pace, nor did she show exaggerated urgency. Her posture was elegant, disciplined, but there was a slight trace of curiosity in her gaze, as if she herself had not yet fully decided what to think about what she carried.

Her steps echoed softly through the hall, each one absorbed by the atmosphere charged with ancient magic, until she stopped at a respectful distance from the throne.

Eleanor opened her eyes.

Slowly.

As if she already knew someone had entered, but was choosing the exact moment to acknowledge it.

Her gaze met Exelia’s almost immediately.

Curious.

Calculated.

"What is this?"

The question came calmly, unhurriedly, but laden with an authority that didn’t need reinforcing. There was no impatience, but also no room for beating around the bush.

Exelia lifted the letter slightly, keeping her arm steady, without trembling.

"It arrived a little while ago."

Her voice was respectful, but natural.

"Addressed to Kael... but delivered to you."

A short pause.

"Directly."

That was enough to pique her interest.

Eleonor tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly as she assessed the information. It wasn’t common for something intended for Kael to pass through her first. And it was definitely not common for someone to dare this kind of delivery without a clear intention.

She didn’t stand up.

She didn’t need to.

A simple movement of her fingers made the air around the letter distort slightly, as if reality itself yielded to her will. The letter was gently pulled from Exelia’s hands, floating through the space until it stopped before Eleanor.

Suspended.

Waiting.

For a moment, everything became even quieter.

Then, she opened it.

Without haste.

Without apparent emotion.

Her eyes calmly scanned the words, line by line, absorbing every detail like someone accustomed to finding hidden meanings even where there seemed to be nothing.

Exelia watched.

Without moving.

Without interrupting.

But attentive.

Because something... began to change.

It was subtle at first.

Almost imperceptible.

The ambient temperature dropped slightly, as if the heat had been gradually drained. The runes on the walls began to glow more intensely, reacting not to an active spell, but to something more primal.

Emotion.

Eleanor hadn’t finished reading yet.

But her gaze was no longer the same. The calm... had become something more rigid.

Sharper.

When her eyes reached the last line, the silence reached an almost absolute level.

And then—

She folded the letter.

Slowly.

Precisely.

But her fingers gripped the paper harder than necessary.

And in that instant—

The world trembled.

It wasn’t an ordinary physical tremor.

It was something deeper.

More fundamental.

The very Kingdom of Witches responded.

Distant towers vibrated, magic circles scattered throughout the territory pulsed like synchronized hearts, and an invisible wave of energy coursed through every corner of that domain, as if something ancient had been forcibly awakened.

Exelia stood firm.

But even she felt it.

The weight.

The pressure.

Eleanor looked up.

And this time... there was no curiosity.

There was anger.

Not uncontrolled anger.

But a fury so intense it needed to be contained to avoid destroying everything around it.

The air around her visibly distorted, as if reality were struggling to maintain its form against the pressure of the aura emanating from her. Small fragments of energy began to appear around the throne, magical circles forming spontaneously, overlapping each other in complex layers that had not been invoked—only... manifested.

Exelia took a deep breath.

Just once.

Because even though she was used to power... this was different.

Eleanor slowly turned her face towards her.

And when she spoke, her voice was no longer just sound.

It was command.

"You." A single word.

But laden with intention.

Exelia straightened her posture slightly.

"Yes, my lady."

Eleanor stood.

And the simple act caused the floor beneath the throne to crack slightly, fine lines spreading as a reflection of the energy she was barely containing.

"Pack your things."

She said, each word accompanied by small magical manifestations that appeared and disappeared around her like sparks.

"And teleport to the Human Empire."

Exelia blinked once.

Surprised.

But she didn’t question it.

Eleanor continued.

"You will act as his secretary."

A brief pause.

Her eyes gleamed intensely.

"Full-time."

Exelia inclined her head slightly.

"Understood."

But before she could say more—

The energy around Eleanor exploded.

Not in destruction.

But in presence.

Thousands of magical circles began to form around her, layering on top of each other, slowly swirling, each more complex than the last, filling the entire hall with patterns of magic that belonged to forgotten ages.

The air grew heavy.

Difficult to breathe.

But impossible to ignore.

Eleanor raised her hand.

And when she spoke—

Her voice was not confined to the hall.

It traversed the kingdom.

It echoed.

It reached every corner.

"From now on—"

The words reverberated like silent thunder, piercing forests, mountains, hidden cities, and forgotten ruins.

"I, Eleanor Scarlet—"

The witches, wherever they were, stopped.

In rituals.

In battles. On missions.

In silence.

All heard.

All felt.

"I declare—"

The sky above the Witch Kingdom momentarily split, revealing layers of pure magic that normally remained invisible to ordinary eyes.

"That Kael Scarlet—"

The name echoed with weight.

With power.

With absolute authority.

"It is officially—"

The magic circles around Eleanor began to spin faster, aligning like perfect gears of a divine machine.

"THE KING OF WITCHES."

The declaration was not only heard.

It was engraved.

In the soul.

In the essence.

In the very magic that defined every witch in existence.

In every corner of the world, women and beings connected to magic felt the change.

Some fell to their knees.

Others widened their eyes.

Some smiled. Others were afraid.

But all—

Knew.

The title wasn’t symbolic.

It wasn’t political.

It was absolute.

Back in the hall, silence slowly returned, as if the world were adjusting to the new reality that had just been imposed.

The magic circles began to disappear one by one.

The pressure lessened.

But the impact...

Remained.

Eleanor stood, looking ahead, her expression still intense, but now more controlled.

Colder.

More... determined.

Exelia watched in silence.

Knowing.

Without needing to ask.

That the world—

Had just changed.

...

The mansion’s dining room was surprisingly quiet at that moment, an almost absurd contrast to everything that had been happening in recent days, as if that small space insisted on maintaining a stubborn normalcy in the face of a world that had clearly already gone off the rails. The table was set simply but elegantly, with plates still partially full, cutlery neatly arranged, and the soft sound of chewing filling the silence in an almost comfortable way.

Kael was seated, eating.

Unhurried.

Expressionless.

Apparently... at peace.

Amelia was opposite him, maintaining a composed posture as she brought her teacup to her lips with delicate movements, while Elizabeth ate beside her, still with her peculiar plate, and Irelia, leaning less formally in her chair, seemed more interested in observing the others than in the food itself.

It was... a rare moment.

Silent.

Balanced.

Until—

Reality decided to intervene.

There was no warning.

There was no preparation. The voice simply... appeared.

"From now on—"

It didn’t come from a specific place.

It came from everywhere.

From the air.

From the walls.

From the floor.

It traversed the space like an invisible wave, carrying a weight that was not only magical, but absolute, undeniable, impossible to ignore.

Kael froze.

The fork stopped mid-way.

His eyes lifted slightly.

And then—

"I, Eleanor Scarlet—"

He recognized it.

Instantly.

And that was enough.

As the declaration continued, as each word fell into place, as his name was pronounced with that overwhelming authority—

"I declare that Kael Scarlet is officially the King of the Witches."

Kael spat it all out.

Without dignity.

Out of control.

The food went straight down, accompanied by a dry gag as he brought his hand to his mouth, coughing twice forcefully, completely taken by surprise in a way that simply... didn’t happen to him.

The three of them looked at him.

At the same time.

Startled.

Confused.

Irelia’s eyes widened, blinking a few times as if trying to understand if she had heard right or if it had been some kind of collective hallucination.

Elizabeth stood completely still for a second, her fork suspended in mid-air, her gaze fixed on Kael as if trying to connect what had just happened with his existence.

Amelia was the first to truly react.

She slowly placed the cup on the saucer, but the movement couldn’t completely hide the sudden tension in her fingers, her eyes focused on him with immediate intensity.

"What was that?"

The question came out quickly.

Directly.

Loaded with concern.

But also something deeper—

Partial understanding.

Kael was still wiping his mouth with his hand, coughing one last time before finally managing to breathe properly, his gaze still somewhat frozen, as if he were processing something that... definitely hadn’t been planned.

He was silent for a second.

Two.

And then he ran his hand across his face, dragging his fingers slowly as if trying to erase what had just happened.

"My grandmother went crazy..."

His voice came out low.

Tired.

Completely resigned.

He let his hand fall onto the table with a small, dry sound.

"...just because I said I was going to the Vampire Realm."