Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls-Chapter 234: Recovering a Precious Item

Kael frowned, his arms still crossed as if protecting his dignity from an imminent attack.

"I’m not cute," he said with the firmness of someone who had faced monsters, curses, and three councils of wizards in existential crisis.

Elion turned to Raven with a mischievous gleam in her golden eyes. "Did you hear that? The little king says he’s not cute."

Raven raised an eyebrow, pouring herself a glass of black nectar that evaporated in spirals of blue light. "Oh, definitely cute. He has that precocious hero vibe trying to look grumpy. Adorable."

Kael let out a pained sigh, as if the universe conspired solely to test his patience. "You two have centuries of arcane power in your veins, and you use it to tease me?"

"Absolutely," Elion replied without hesitation. "It’s what keeps immortality bearable."

"Cute and dramatic," added Raven, with a mischievous smile.

Kael narrowed his eyes, visibly irritated, but knowing the nature of the two too well to continue the verbal dispute. He took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of seriousness.

"Okay. Enough. What are we doing here, anyway?"

The slight sparkle in Elion’s eyes disappeared for a moment, replaced by something more sober. She adjusted her cloak with an almost nervous movement—which, coming from her, was the equivalent of an emotional breakdown.

"Can we... talk somewhere more private?" she asked, looking at Raven with rare gentleness.

Raven paused for a moment. The silence between them was short but dense. An ancient look passed between them — the kind of thing that had roots in centuries and wounds that couldn’t be healed even with spells.

Raven nodded, tapping twice on the counter. A goblin with an apron and glasses hanging from his nose emerged from the shadows, taking his place with the efficiency of someone who had done this a thousand times before.

"Don’t touch anything behind the counter," Raven said to the goblin, who just snorted and began polishing an invisible glass with a cloth that floated on its own.

She stepped out from behind the counter and made a brief gesture with her hand. The shadows on the walls rippled like paint in water. A portal opened in the middle of one of the bar’s columns—not with explosions or dramatic effects, but with a smoothness that sent shivers down the spine.

"Follow me."

Kael looked at Elion, who was already stepping through as if passing through a silk curtain. He hesitated for half a second, then followed her.

As he crossed the threshold, the world changed.

The smell of the bar — enchanted smoke, petal alcohol, and magical sweat — disappeared. In its place came the scent of old paper, moss, and something reminiscent of the surface of a lake on a moonless night. The sound changed too. The murmur of music and voices was replaced by a living, dense silence that seemed to observe.

Raven’s "office" was not a room. It was a fragment of another reality.

The space seemed infinite, yet intimate. Books floated in gentle circles in the air, some opening and closing on their own. Trees grew from the translucent marble floor, their leaves shining like constellations. A river meandered silently across the ceiling, mirroring what lay below in reverse. And in the center, a single high-backed chair and a table made of black crystal with veins of living gold.

Kael spun slowly in place, his eyes wide. "Is this...?"

"Yes," Raven replied, sitting down with the weight of someone who carried too many stories. "A fragment of what remains of the First Library."

Elion was already leaning against one of the trees, as if it were an old childhood bedroom. "Raven is dramatic. I just called it an enchanted refuge where she kept her lost loves."

"The books are my lost loves," Raven retorted dryly.

Kael was still watching everything, uneasy. There was something about that place that made him feel small, as if a part of him were transparent there—visible to the bone of his soul.

"Why are we here?" he asked.

Kael was still absorbing every detail of that place—the glow of the star leaves, the rustling of loose pages, the mirror of the inverted river—when Elion broke his silence with a low request, almost a whisper:

"Raven... give me that thing."

Raven’s gaze turned to Elion with an intensity that made the air seem denser. She arched an eyebrow, her amber eyes sparkling with an ancient light, almost as if she could see beyond time.

"Are you sure you want that?"

Elion nodded, her fingers nervously playing with the fold of her red cloak. "I need this for the future. I can’t afford to be unprepared."

Kael frowned, curious. That "it" hung like a mysterious shadow between them, and the weight of Elion’s words made him want to understand more.

Raven took a step forward, walking among the floating circles of books, her fingers sliding over the spines with an affection that mixed respect and exhaustion.

"You were unbearable, you know? For months, begging, casting hiding spells, mysteries, and even a curse or two, just to keep that away from prying eyes."

Elion crossed his arms, a smile playing on his lips. "I had my reasons, two centuries ago."

"Two centuries ago, when the world was less... chaotic," Raven retorted, a hint of irony in her voice. "Today, those reasons no longer exist. But you insist on carrying the weight of the past like a stone hood."

"I’m not a show-off just because I reached the Transgressor Realm, Raven," Elion said with a light laugh, his tone somewhere between defiant and weary.

Kael’s eyes widened at this. "Transgressor Realm? What realm is that?"

Raven turned to him, an amused look on his face. "The Transgressor Realm is the level before the pinnacle of magic—the Archmage Realm. These are the ranks of mages, the path to becoming a living legend. Almost no one gets there."

Kael scratched his head, astonished. "Really? I... I didn’t even know that existed."

Elion gave a short, discreet whistle, as if trying to hide a natural superiority.

Raven chuckled softly. "He’s still too young for our world. He hasn’t even truly entered the world of magic yet."

"I’m getting there," Kael muttered, still somewhat lost in the maze of terms and hierarchies.

Raven stopped in front of a table made of translucent mineral, on which rested an ancient grimoire. The cover was black leather, worn by time, and stamped with the design of a black flame that seemed to move and crackle like real fire.

She reached out and picked up the book with almost reverent care. Then, with a sharp gesture, she threw the grimoire into Elion’s hand.

"Take this old thing," she said with a crooked smile. "It burned my patience for two centuries."

Elion held the book as if it were a sacred relic—and perhaps it was. The air around them seemed to vibrate with the ancient magic the book contained, a dark and profound magic, full of secrets and veiled dangers.

Kael looked from one to the other, absorbing the gravity of the moment. "Is this... dangerous?"

Raven looked at him, a shadow of warning in his eyes. "Everything worth knowing in this world is dangerous, kid."

Elion turned the pages of the grimoire with a mixture of reverence and haste, as if that knowledge were the key to surviving the days to come.

"Why did you hide this for so long?" Kael asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

"Because it carries a mark, a power that can destroy as much as it can create," Raven replied, crossing her arms. "For centuries, only the two of us knew of its existence and kept it secret so that no one, not even the Council, could use it for the wrong purposes."

Elion sighed. "I wanted to be ready. The future will demand more than conventional magic. This grimoire... is the only way to ensure that the line separating our reality from darkness is not broken."

Kael watched his mother for a moment, seeing in her a determination that mixed fear with hope—something that made his heart beat faster.

"And what’s inside this grimoire?" he asked.

Raven walked over to a shelf that seemed to dissolve at her touch, removing a small sphere that pulsed with a cold blue light.

"Forbidden knowledge. Ancient spells, forgotten pacts, and the essence of a fire that never goes out—the black flame."

"It’s not just fire," added Elion, carefully closing the grimoire. "It’s magic that transcends the understanding of the living, capable of shaping the essence of things, but which demands too high a price for those who are unprepared."

Kael felt the weight of that responsibility as if it were an invisible cloak. "And do you think this thing is ready to be used soon?"

Elion smiled, but this time there was a shadow of vulnerability. "No. We are never ready. But that is why we need it."

Raven rested an elbow on the table, looking at the two with an expression that mixed pride and concern. "The future is uncertain, Kael. But there is a thread we can pull to try to keep the darkness at bay."

Kael clenched his fists, the feeling of being involved in a plot much bigger than himself making him straighten up. "So... you just came to pick this up?"

Elion looked at him, "Hm? Yes, and to introduce you to her," she pointed to Raven. "Like, did you forget that I isolated myself? I just came to visit an old friend while I have time to spare with my son." Elion shrugged.

"Now, shall we have another date?" She said smiling.