Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls-Chapter 475: Umbra and its problems.

The room still carried the accumulated heat of bodies that had sought each other without haste or reservation, the sheets disheveled, forming irregular folds on the wide bed while their breathing finally found a calmer rhythm, no longer urgent, just deep and heavy. Kael lay on his back, one arm resting behind his head, the other hanging by his side, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if trying to see beyond the stone and wood, beyond the physical world itself.

Inari remained partially supported on his chest, her hair spread across her still-warm skin, drawing soft lines that moved with each breath. The silence that filled the room wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t empty either, for there were too many thoughts there, circulating between them without being immediately spoken, and it was Kael who broke the quiet first, his voice lower than usual, less firm than he usually allowed it to be.

"I’m worried about Umbra."

Inari didn’t respond immediately, only tracing a small, distracted circle on his chest with her fingertips, as if drawing something invisible, perhaps pondering the weight of that worry before deciding how to react.

"You rarely admit to worry," she murmured, her tone soft but attentive.

He let out a slow sigh that seemed to carry more than just physical exhaustion.

"It doesn’t just disappear like that," he continued, his eyes finally closing for a moment as if doing so allowed him to feel her better, as if the connection that bound them was only weakened and not completely silent.

Inari slightly raised her face to observe him, her eyes analyzing every small movement of his expression, searching for signs that perhaps he himself hadn’t yet noticed.

"Then let’s go to the Umbral," she said naturally, as if suggesting a casual walk, although she knew it was far from simple.

Kael opened his eyes and turned his face slightly towards her, his eyebrow arched in slight skepticism.

"And how exactly do you suggest we do this?"

The question carried no irritation, only reality, a practical realization that they lacked a clear path.

Inari gave a small smile, but didn’t answer immediately, because the truth was too simple to be comfortable.

"We don’t know how to go," she finally admitted, without seeming bothered by the limitation.

Silence returned for a few seconds.

Kael ran a hand over his face, feeling the growing weight of that uncomfortable sensation he didn’t want to fully name.

"I’m really worried," he repeated, this time more quietly, almost to himself.

Inari realized that this wasn’t just curiosity or strategic interest, it was something deeper, something she was still trying to fully understand.

"If she’s in the Umbral, she’s not defenseless," Inari replied, trying to bring logic to the situation, but she knew that wasn’t the main issue.

The issue was the absence, the rupture of the connection, the unexpected void that Umbra had left behind. The scene then shifts to a place where heat was absent, where the air was heavy and laden with ancient echoes, and Umbra walked through the corridors of the Umbral castle like someone returning to a home they no longer fully recognize. Her two subordinates kept a few steps behind her, Lyra and Seryth exchanging occasional glances as they tried to contain the growing curiosity that overflowed almost like an energy of its own.

"So he’s tall?" Lyra asked, unable to contain the first of many questions.

Umbra didn’t slow her pace as she answered.

"That’s irrelevant."

Seryth tilted her head slightly, insisting gently.

"Is he aware of what it means to be bound to the lady?"

Umbra closed her eyes for a brief moment as she continued walking, the light fabric of her dress contrasting sharply with the dark, vibrant walls of the castle.

"You’re assuming too much," she said, her voice controlled, but with a slight tension that didn’t go unnoticed.

"But is he the King?" Lyra insisted.

Umbra stopped abruptly, and the silence that followed was enough to make even the surrounding shadows hesitate to move. She turned her face slowly to meet their gaze, deep, ancient, and laden with something that wasn’t exactly irritation, but definitely wasn’t patience.

"There is no King," she declared firmly.

The path to the castle’s core seemed longer than she remembered, not because it had physically expanded, but because each step brought back memories and echoes of a time when she would never have been torn from that throne.

"Prepare to open the portal," Umbra ordered as she resumed walking.

Lyra and Seryth exchanged glances, and this time the hesitation was clear.

"My Queen," Seryth began cautiously, "we haven’t had a functional method for this in generations."

Umbra didn’t respond immediately, only continued forward until she passed through the large doors leading to her former office.

She stopped as soon as she entered.

The room was partially destroyed.

Shelves overturned, fragments of stone scattered across the black floor like open scars, ancient documents reduced to scattered ashes, and deep marks on the walls as if something colossal had moved inside without any restraint.

For a few seconds, she simply observed.

Then the phrase escaped unfiltered.

"What the hell happened here?"

Lyra was the first to step forward a few paces.

"There was an incident," she began, choosing her words with extreme care.

Umbra turned her face slowly toward her.

"Incident?"

Seryth took over the explanation.

"Nidhogg escaped."

The name hung in the air like distant thunder.

Umbra remained motionless for a full second, absorbing the information.

"Escaped how?" her voice came out low, controlled.

"The chains weakened after your prolonged absence," Lyra replied, "and something outside interfered with the stability of the prison."

Umbra took a few steps over the wreckage, the shadows parting to make way beneath her feet.

"How much was destroyed?"

"A lot," Seryth replied with absolute honesty.

Umbra touched one of the walls scarred by deep claw marks, feeling the residual energy that still vibrated there, recognizing the chaotic and ancient signature that only Nidhogg could leave behind.

The castle still stood.

But it was wounded.

She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the invisible currents that held that world together, assessing the weak points, the fissures that could expand if not quickly reinforced.

"Prepare everything," she said finally, her voice echoing through the partially destroyed room.

"If the portal hasn’t opened for a hundred years, then we’re going to force it open."

Lyra and Seryth bowed simultaneously.

Umbra remained there for a few more seconds, looking at the destruction around her and feeling, far beyond the castle walls, the distant echo of a concern that wasn’t just hers.

Kael.

The connection still existed, weakened, but pulsing like an invisible thread traversing worlds.

"Wait for me," she murmured almost inaudibly.

And then she turned and left the room, ready to bend the structures of reality again, if necessary.

...

The room was shrouded in silence as Kael rose from the bed, the sheets still marked by the recent heat, but now irrelevant in the face of the unease growing within him. Inari watched him without saying anything, her attentive eyes following his every movement as he crossed the room barefoot, her expression hardening as an uncomfortable sensation settled beneath her skin, like a void where there had once been presence.

He stopped in the center of the room, closing his eyes slowly, taking a single deep breath before extending his hand in front of his body. The gesture was natural, almost instinctive, repeated countless times over the years. Usually, the response was immediate. The shadows around him vibrated, lengthened, leaned toward him like obedient creatures awaiting a command.

Nothing happened.

Kael frowned slightly, keeping his hand raised, concentrating more deeply. He sought the core of that ancient energy, the umbral force that had always resided beneath his flesh like a second pulse, a second breath. He knew it as he knew his own body. He knew its weight, its texture, the way it expanded when summoned.

Silence.

The shadows remained motionless, fixed to the ground, static as the mere absence of light.

Inari rose slowly from the bed, her hair falling over her shoulders as she tilted her head, analyzing the scene with growing curiosity. She didn’t feel the usual flow around him. There was no distortion in the air. There was no cold.

Kael closed his hand slowly, then opened it again, this time with more force, as if he could tear the energy from within himself by sheer willpower. The pressure around him increased for a brief moment, the air seemed to vibrate, but it was only that, a weak and incomplete oscillation that dissipated before even taking shape.

He opened his eyes.

There was something different there.

It wasn’t a blockage.

It wasn’t external resistance.

It was absence.

He turned his face slightly, staring at his own shadow projected by the soft light of the room. It was normal. Static. Unconscious. Unresponsive.

"No," he murmured, more to himself than to Inari.

He closed his eyes again and tried to access the Umbral more directly, seeking that deep connection that linked him to Umbra, to the throne, to that realm that existed beyond matter. He searched for the characteristic cold that always accompanied the opening of that channel.

Nothing.

The connection was... thin.

Distant.

Like a thread about to break.

Inari finally stood up, walking slowly towards him, stopping a few steps away. She also tried to feel, tilting her head slightly as she expanded her own perception.

The emptiness was clear.

"Kael," she said, now with no trace of provocation in her voice, only genuine attention, "try again."

He didn’t answer, but obeyed. He inhaled deeply and released the energy all at once, without restraint, as he did in battle. Normally, the ground around him would crack into dark fissures, the walls would be stained with liquid darkness, the air would freeze.

This time, there was only a slight tremor beneath his feet.

And then... nothing.

Kael remained motionless for a few seconds, his chest rising and falling more heavily now. He slowly lowered his arm, his fingers still tense.

"I can’t feel it," he said, his voice low, too controlled for someone who had just lost something essential.

Inari moved closer, standing beside him, her gaze fixed on the shadow at his feet as if expecting it to move on its own.

"This isn’t exhaustion," she stated after a few seconds. "You’re not drained."

He nodded slightly.

"I know."

He knew exhaustion. It was like a fatigued muscle, a pain, a temporary weakness. This was different. It was as if a part of him had been removed with surgical precision, leaving only the empty space where power once resided.

He closed his hand again, trying at least to condense a small blade of darkness in his palm, something simple, basic, something even an Umbral child could do.

The darkness didn’t respond.

Inari felt the air change around him, but not because of the Umbral’s presence, but because of its absence. It was as if something had been sealed on the other side.

"Umbra," she murmured, almost in thought.