Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

A few hours before the attack on Azalith was identified by the other Kingdoms, the sky was covered in a light mist, as if the world was holding its breath. The academy, in its usual routine, breathed tranquility - at least on the surface.

Amelia was walking alone through the hanging gardens of the eastern sector. Her eyes roamed over the flower beds, attentive but relaxed. She had finished her training and was enjoying a rare moment of silence. The sound of water flowing through the fountains gave the place an almost ethereal air.

That's when she felt it.

A shiver - subtle, but unmistakable. A presence that shouldn't have been there.

She turned quickly, her blue eyes narrowing as she scanned the area. She saw nothing. No sign of magic, no mana in the air. But instinct didn't lie.

And then they appeared.

From the shadows cast by the stone columns, two students emerged.

Rivern and Lys.

The twins stood side by side, their expressions serious and reserved. They were almost identical, except for slight differences in gender.

Rivern was a little taller, with a more rigid posture, while Lys seemed more relaxed, although her eyes shone with an impressive intensity. Both had silver hair that reflected the ambient light, and their eyes were almost opaque, with a deep shade that seemed to hide much more than their faces expressed.

"Mallorean's? Amelia's eyes widened as she recognized them. "I'm sure that-"

"You shouldn't be here alone, Amelia," said Lys, in a sharp, dry tone, with an empty smile, "but I'm glad you are."

"We just came to get what's rightfully ours." Rivern said, walking beside his sister. "Justice. Revenge. Call it what you will."

"Because of Kael? Those idiots took drugs and tried to kill a classmate! They knew the consequences!" Amelia had already taken two steps back, hands ready to conjure.

"And they died." Rivern interrupted with a twisted expression of pain and hatred. "Do you think that's fair?"

"They were our brothers," Lys added, her eyes sparking with hatred. "We're going to make Kael pay. And we'll start with you. We're going to rip away everything he loves."

Amelia took a step back, her senses on alert. A chill ran down her spine - and it wasn't magic. It was instinct.

With a swift gesture, she erected a barrier of crystalline ice, thick, glittering like diamond, rising with a sharp crack between her and the two invaders. But before she could stabilize it, Rivern was already on the move.

His arm moved like a snake, fluid and lethal. An ancient ring on his finger emitted a purple glow, and arcane runes lit up on its surface.

"An'Krath!" he whispered.

A spear of black energy shot out of his hands, spiraling through the air with absurd speed. The ice barrier exploded into a thousand shards on contact, as if it were made of fine glass.

"Wh-what?" Amelia stumbled backwards, her eyes wide. A sharp pain throbbed in her head, as if something was crushing her thoughts. Her vision flickered, blurred. Her legs wobbled, and she fell to her knees, panting.

"Something is draining... my mana..."

"Do you think only Kael has evolved?" sneered Rivern, his eyes glowing with corrupted power.

Amelia raised her hands in despair and launched a freezing blast at him. The ice roared through the air like a storm, but Lys jumped in front and countered with an elegant flick of her enchanted fan. Black flames enveloped the ice and disintegrated it on impact.

Amelia rolled to the side, dodging another shot. She slammed her fist into the ground and raised four ice crystal spears around herself, which fired instantly at the twins. One of them tore into Rivern's shoulder, causing him to grunt.

"Damn it!" he growled.

Lys leapt, spinning in the air, and threw a magic dagger that exploded on contact with one of the spears. Shrapnel flew. Amelia screamed, a splinter embedding itself in her calf.

Even though she was wounded, she stood up again, trembling. Her aura exploded into an intense icy-blue light. "I'm not going to fall here!"

"You're strong... But you're alone," said Lys coldly.

She held out her hands. Arcane symbols began to glow beneath Amelia's feet - a black, pulsating magic circle full of forbidden symbols. The girl opened her eyes wide and tried to move, but her legs no longer responded. The seal held her like invisible chains.

"Containment curse..." Amelia whispered, trying to absorb mana from her surroundings. But even that seemed blocked.

Rivern approached, bleeding from the shoulder but still standing firm. "It's over."

With her last breath of magic, Amelia tried to cast a freezing blast. One last desperate gesture.

But Rivern raised the ring. The runes glowed once more.

"Arcane Silencer!"

A black wave expanded and drowned out the entire spell. Amelia's magic died before it formed.

Lys then spoke, in a low, lethal tone:

"Durmirel."

The word echoed like thunder in Amelia's soul. The seal beneath her feet glowed violently, and streams of pure spectral energy rose up and enveloped her. Her mind was being forcibly extinguished, like a candle being extinguished in the rain.

"No... Kael..." she tried to whisper. But her voice was gone.

The world spun, going dark. A biting cold enveloped her.

She fell onto her side, unconscious, her eyes still ajar but unfocused.

Lys walked over to her, panting, and looked down at the girl's body, slumped in the center of the seal.

"It was more work than I expected..." she said, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth.

"She's strong," grumbled Rivern, lifting her in his arms with an effort. "But not strong enough."

"We have minutes before the Headmaster feels the magic collapse. We need to go. Now."

"Kael isn't here yet. And when he comes... It'll be too late. We'll take her and torture her."...

[... Other side of the academy...]

On the other side of the academy, the air was impregnated with the smell of blood and burnt magic.

Irelia stood motionless in the center of the outdoor training yard, her sword still raised, trembling, bathed in red. Around her, the bodies of the invaders littered the ground - at least seven of them. Hooded men, armed to the teeth. Now motionless.

The silence was deafening.

Their hands were red up to the wrists. Sweat mixed with blood ran down his face, staining his cheeks and chin. His eyes were wide open, fixed on the emptiness in front of him, but his mind was far away. The sound of the last screams still echoed in her ears.

She had never killed anyone.

Until now.

Her whole body was shaking, not from weakness, but from something more primal - adrenaline, fear, shock. Her heart was beating so hard that her chest ached. It felt as if it was going to explode.

She gasped.

"I-I..." she mumbled, looking down at her bloodied hands. "I had to..."

One of the men still moaned lowly, trying to drag himself away. Irelia reacted instinctively. She spun on her heels and drove the blade into his neck with deadly precision. The muffled sound of flesh being pierced was the final answer.

Silence, again.

Her legs almost gave way, but she forced herself to keep standing. Fear still danced in her bones. Every inch of her body burned - not from exhaustion, but from terror. A strange heat rose up inside her, like fire being fed by something dark. A kind of fury she never knew existed inside her.

She gasped once more, gasping for air. The metallic taste still lingered on her tongue.

She looked around: blood on the floor, on the walls, even on the leaves of the surrounding trees. The training area had turned into an execution ground.

"They... wanted to take me... alive." she whispered to herself. "But I didn't let them."

A solitary tear ran down her cheek. Not from sadness. Not yet. She couldn't even feel guilt. Just the terror of having almost died. The survival instinct that spoke loudest.

She heard footsteps approaching.

She spun around with her sword ready, but it was only a group of armed students running, led by a school instructor. They stopped at the sight - and froze.

"Irelia...?" one of them asked, horrified.

She didn't answer. She just lowered her sword, slowly, as if finally realizing what she had done. Her eyes were still wide, her pupils dilated.

"They came... to take me," she said in a hoarse whisper, "and I... I couldn't let them."

The instructor swallowed, looking at the bodies. Then at her.

"You... did the right thing."

But Irelia didn't have time to absorb. A new rumble echoed from the east, and an explosion of magic flashed above the rooftops.

Azalith was under full attack.

[...To the west...]

The explosion in the western sector of Azalith shook the walls like thunder. Chunks of magical stone flew into the sky as thick smoke rose, covering the corridors in chaos and ash.

Students screamed, instructors tried to react, but coordination had already been broken. In the middle of the inner garden, where Azalith's thousand-year-old trees had flourished in peace for centuries, Princess Sylphie was fighting with everything she had.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" she shouted, and from her hands blossomed a storm of thorny vines, thick and alive like serpents. They whipped through the air, gripping the invaders with brutal force. Armed men screamed as they were lifted up and smashed against the stone walls, impaled by natural stakes that sprouted from the ground.

The green of Sylphie's natural magic illuminated the surroundings like embers of hope amidst the smoke.

"Defend the princess!" shouted one of the elven knights accompanying her, before being thrown by a wave of black fire that exploded to his left. A second later, a spear pierced his chest, silencing him.

More attackers advanced - swift, hooded shadows armed with magical weapons and forbidden scrolls. But none of them could get close to Sylphie.

She spun in the center of the field, the vines following her movements with almost dancing precision, as if the entire forest were alive under her will.

"I'M NOT GOING TO GET HIT!" she shouted, panting, sweat dripping down her forehead. "NEVER AGAIN!"

But then... silence came.

Everything stopped.

Sylphie felt a presence. Cold. Suffocating.

As if the forest itself had held its breath.

She turned quickly, already preparing another wave of roots... but it was too late.

Behind her, as if from the shadows between the trees, a tall, slender man approached. No - it wasn't a man. He was an elf, but not like those who inhabited Azalith. His skin was dark gray, almost black as soot, and his eyes burned a hellish red. The tribal markings on his face seemed to pulse with evil energy.

"Princess." he said, his voice low, hoarse... and hungry.

She tried to react, but he moved too quickly.

In the blink of an eye, his hand was around her neck, lifting her off the ground with inhuman strength. The vines tried to react, but withered instantly, as if they had been poisoned by his touch.

Sylphie gasped, her eyes wide.

"N-NO...!"

The elf smiled.

"Sleep, little flower."

And then, effortlessly, he struck her face with a brutal punch, knocking her to the ground. Her head hit the stone hard, and the world around Sylphie shattered into thousands of pieces of light.

Darkness.

She no longer moved.

The dark elf looked around, observing the scattered bodies and the few survivors retreating. Slowly, he put his hand to his ear, activating a small magical communicator embedded in a black crystal.

"Target captured." he said coolly. "The Elf Princess is in our hands."

He picked up the unconscious body by the hair, as if it were a rag doll, and walked into the gym dragging her along the floor. "Let's get going."