Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

After the first encounter, the rhythm of the journey changed—not in speed, but in the nature of everything around them. What had previously been cautious, almost silent observation, transformed into something more direct, more inevitable. The road that opened before them ceased to be merely a physical path and began to function as a warning line, a clear and impossible-to-ignore declaration: something was crossing vampire territory without asking permission.

That route was no ordinary path. It was an entry point.

And that meant something very simple within that realm—everything that passed through there... would be seen.

Carter knew this. From the beginning.

But now, after what had happened with the first patrol... it ceased to be a strategic detail and became an unavoidable problem. There was no longer the possibility of crossing unnoticed, not even under escort. The death of those five vampires would not remain confined to that point on the road. It was already spreading.

Not as a rumor.

But as a reaction.

The first signs came quickly.

Much faster than before.

If, at first, the vampires only observed from a distance, hidden among the trees and structures, now they appeared directly on the road. Not in large groups, not in a coordinated way—at least not yet—but enough to make it clear that the movement was being intercepted in real time.

They appeared ahead.

They blocked the path.

They questioned.

And they died.

There was no more formal warning.

Exelia didn’t repeat the speech.

There was no need.

The first time had been explanation enough.

The second... was execution.

A group of three appeared a few minutes after the walk resumed, positioning themselves in the middle of the road with a confidence that clearly didn’t correspond to what they were facing. They demanded identification, ignored Carter, raised their voices... and didn’t finish the sentence.

Exelia didn’t even slow down.

The rapier appeared in his hand as a natural extension of the movement itself, and the combat—if it could be called that—ended before it even began. One fell with his throat ripped open, another had his heart pierced with absolute precision, and the third... tried to run.

He didn’t even manage five steps.

When the group passed them, their bodies were still warm.

And that... began to repeat itself.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The road became a continuous sequence of poorly calculated interruptions. Small patrols, pairs, trios, sometimes even a little more—all with the same initial reaction: distrust, local authority, refusal to yield. None of them had enough context to understand what was happening.

To them, it was an invasion.

And they were reacting as such.

But the problem... was what they were facing.

Exelia showed no signs of fatigue.

Nor haste.

Nor irritation.

She simply... resolved things.

Each confrontation was handled with the same cold precision, the same absolute control, as if she were executing a repeated sequence of movements long memorized. There was no wasted energy, no unnecessary exaggeration—only efficiency.

Brutal.

Silent.

Constant.

Kael, on the other hand, remained exactly as before.

Walking.

Observing.

Learning.

He didn’t intervene.

Not because he couldn’t.

But because he didn’t need to.

His eyes followed Exelia’s every move, not with surprise, but with analytical interest, as if he were registering patterns, refining perceptions, understanding not only what she did... but how and why.

And, at the same time, he observed the kingdom.

The way the vampires reacted.

The speed at which information seemed—or didn’t seem—to spread.

The differences between the groups.

The weakest came first.

Impulsive.

Disorganized.

Overconfident in local authority.

Then... they began to change.

Not immediately.

But gradually.

The vampires that appeared began to keep more distance. Some no longer directly blocked the path, only observing from strategic positions, clearly assessing before acting. Others tried to surround, appearing from the sides, testing reactions instead of confronting head-on.

And yet...

It didn’t work.

Exelia noticed them first.

Always.

And when they crossed the invisible line she established... it was over.

There was a moment when five vampires tried to coordinate a simultaneous attack, appearing from different points on the road, trying to force a divided reaction. It was quick. Clever, even.

Insufficient.

Exelia moved as if she already knew exactly where each one would be, her blade tracing precise trajectories in the air as she shifted positions with almost unreal fluidity. Two fell before even completing their attack, the third had his arm severed while trying to retreat, and the other two... didn’t even get to understand the mistake they had made.

When it was all over, she simply adjusted her posture and kept walking.

As always.

The impact of it all began to accumulate.

Not just physically—from the bodies left along the road—but in the overall perception of the territory. This was no longer an isolated incident. Not even two.

It was a pattern.

Something was driving through the kingdom.

And it was... eliminating anyone who tried to stop it.

Carter felt this more and more clearly.

His silence was no longer just caution—it was... understanding.

He knew what it meant.

He knew how the kingdom worked.

And he knew that, at that rate, it wouldn’t be long before the highest levels of authority began to pay direct attention.

Because this was no longer a matter of patrolling.

It was... a rupture.

Still, he kept driving.

Because, at that point, stopping... wasn’t an option.

The road continued.

And with it... the inevitability of the greater encounter that was approaching.

The surroundings began to change again as they ventured deeper. The structures became larger, more frequent, more intact. Dark stone towers loomed in the distance, connected by elevated paths, while clear signs of constant occupation became evident—lighting, movement, an organized presence.

They were approaching the core.

And this... became clear through the most important change of all.

The vampires began to stop attacking.

Not completely.

But significantly.

Now, they observed.

They retreated.

They let it pass.

Not out of respect.

But out of... calculation.

The information was finally arriving.

Too late for many.

But enough for those who hadn’t yet acted.

Exelia noticed this.

Of course she noticed.

"They are learning." She commented softly, shedding her rapier after another brief confrontation.

Kael responded with a slight "hm," without taking his eyes off the road ahead.

"Or someone started thinking for them."

The difference between the two possibilities... was important.

And they both knew it.

Because it meant something very simple.

They were being expected.

The road, now, was no longer just an entrance path.

It was a corridor.

And at the end of it... there was something bigger.

Something that wouldn’t react like the others.

Something that wouldn’t make the same mistake.

Kael brought a hand to the back of his neck for a brief moment, stretching his muscles slightly, as if preparing himself—not physically, but mentally—for what was to come.

His eyes moved slowly across the dark horizon, where larger structures began to stand out against the artificially darkened sky.

And then he spoke.

More for herself than for anyone else.

"Finally."

Exelia realized this even before looking ahead again. Not because of the buildings that were beginning to rise more imposingly, nor because of the towers that cut through the darkened sky, but because of the change in behavior around her. There were no more impulsive attempts. No more disorganized interruptions. What existed now was... waiting.

She took a few steps ahead of the carriage, her posture impeccable, the clipboard resting against her arm as if it were just another irrelevant accessory, while her eyes scanned the surroundings with constant attention. The vampires who accompanied them—those connected to Carter, those who still remained—maintained a tighter formation now, not for protection, but by instinct. They no longer drove in the same way as before. Now, they were... guiding something.

And they knew it.

The road widened once more, but this time definitively. The surrounding structures ceased to be scattered and began to form something continuous, organized. High walls of dark stone loomed ahead, not only as physical barriers, but as clear symbols of separation—the exterior and the interior. The boundary.

The capital.

Even before they fully arrived, the presence was already overwhelming. Not because of the number of visible vampires, but because of the density of what was not shown. There were eyes everywhere. In every tower, in every dark window, in every shadow cast by the ancient structures. This was no longer open territory.

It was absolute dominion.

The carriage naturally slowed as they approached the gates, not by direct order, but because the atmosphere demanded it. Two large arches of black stone marked the main entrance, decorated with ancient carvings that seemed to tell stories that no one there needed to hear anymore to understand. Guards were positioned on both sides, motionless, attentive, and... prepared.

They were not like the road patrols.

Those did not react impulsively.

They were already waiting.

When the group finally stopped before the entrance, the blockade was immediate, but controlled. No weapons were raised, no shouts were heard. Just coordinated movement. Several vampires advanced and formed a clear line ahead of the carriage, firmly and unequivocally blocking its passage.

The silence that followed wasn’t one of doubt.

It was one of contained tension.

Carter stopped a few steps behind Exelia, his gaze quickly scanning the faces ahead, recognizing some, assessing others. He didn’t speak. Not yet. Because he knew that, at that point... the situation was no longer under his control.

Exelia took another step forward.

Just one.

Enough.

Her gaze swept over the vampires blocking the path, analyzing each one calmly, without any hurry, as if she were merely confirming something she already knew. And then, without even looking back, she spoke:

"Will they stop?"

The question wasn’t for them.

It was for Kael.

Inside the carriage, he remained silent for a brief moment, as if considering something—not the situation itself, but how relevant it still was.

Then he answered.

"No."

A pause.

And then, simple, direct:

"Exterminate."

There was no change in her voice.

There was no emphasis.

But it was enough.

Exelia didn’t answer.

She just... moved.

The presence around her changed the instant her hand touched the rapier’s hilt. It wasn’t a brusque, aggressive gesture—it was too natural. Too fluid. As if it were just an inevitable continuation of the conversation.

The vampires ahead noticed.

And reacted.

But, as before...

Too late.

The first fell before even completing the forward movement. The blade pierced his chest with absolute precision, removing the air from his lungs before any sound could be formed. Exelia was no longer there when the body began to fall.

She appeared beside the second.

The cut was horizontal, clean, traversing the neck with almost absurd ease. The blood followed the blade’s movement, drawing a dark arc in the air before hitting the ground.

The third tried to retreat.

He couldn’t.

The rapier’s tip pierced his left eye and passed through his skull without resistance, ending any possibility of reaction.

But this time... it didn’t stop there.

Because there were more of them.

Many more.

And they were prepared to fight.

Two advanced together, trying to surround her. A coordinated attack, coming from opposite angles. Exelia spun her body, dodging the first blow with minimal movement, while her blade rose at an impossible angle, splitting the second’s torso open before he could even complete the attack.

The first still tried to correct the movement.

She was already behind him.

The cut came from below, deep, brutal in its execution, splitting muscles and bones with a precision that left no room for error.

The sound of combat finally spread through the gate.

Metal against stone. Quick steps.

Bodies falling.

But there was no chaos.

There was only... results.

And then—

"Enough."

The voice cut through the air like an invisible blade.

It wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t aggressive.

But it carried something that made even Exelia’s movement slow for a moment.

She stopped.

Not out of obedience.

But out of... recognition.

All eyes turned.

From the darkness of one of the side passages, a figure emerged.

Older.

Taller.

And, unlike all the others until then... absolutely controlled.

Her steps were firm, measured, and each movement seemed to carry a weight that didn’t need to be shown to be felt. Her eyes quickly scanned the scene—the bodies on the ground, the still-fresh blood, the motionless survivors... and then stopped on Exelia.

And, for a brief second...

There was absolute silence.

He showed no shock.

Nor anger.

Not even surprise.

Just... understanding.

Then, slowly, he inclined his head.

A respectful gesture.

Directed... not at her.

But at the carriage.

"Your Majesty."

The way he said it made the air change.

It wasn’t irony.

It wasn’t doubt.

It was recognition.

Exelia watched this in silence, her blade still lowered, but ready. Her eyes narrowed slightly, assessing the new element that had entered the scene. And, for the first time since they had crossed the border...

She didn’t attack immediately.

The vampire raised his gaze again, now directly at her.

"There’s no need to continue," he said, with absolute calm. "I was sent to escort you."

A pause.

And then, with the same naturalness:

"Even the Vampire King."

The silence that followed was unlike any before.

It wasn’t tension.

It was... transition.

Inside the carriage, Kael slowly opened his eyes, as if he had been waiting for that specific moment.

And then he smiled.

Slightly.

"Now, yes..." he murmured.