PATH OF THE STAR HUNTER

Kyuru could sense the emotions of others around her, but Myrilla could see into the very essence that made up the soul of sentient beings. Due to her nature as a Celestial, Myrilla could only accurately see one of the many aspects of the soul.

Precisely because such an aspect was her domain, Myrilla found it unheard of to see such a thing within Katya’s soul. One had to know that Celestials were creatures whose nature was defined on the day they were born, precisely by the circumstances that gave birth to them; they could not change their nature.

Myrilla was the same as other Celestials, an existence tied to her own nature, but what she saw inside Katya at that moment completely defied her preconceived notions. However, as any other Celestial would, Myrilla had a single thought toward Katya’s change; she felt happy for her friend.

Almost irritatingly to other races, the Celestials were like that; they represented all that was good and pure in the multiverse. The change that was taking place within Katya, though unique, would be welcomed with open arms by other Celestials; As long as it was suitable for Katya, the details didn’t matter.

Still, Myrilla decided not to inform Katya of her condition, believing that it was better if the changes occurred naturally and subconsciously. Although subtle, Katya’s attitude towards Soi Fong had already changed, and for Myrilla, who saw more than a tiny glimmer of pink, that was a good thing.

Soi Fong didn’t have Myrilla’s ability to see into the souls of other sentient beings, but she still had a lot of history with Katya, so she could tell something different in her attitude towards her. In her curiosity, Soi Fong wondered if this was related to the new markings on Katya’s wings or the way she healed the wound that had been torturing her all these years.

The conversation went on longer than usual between Soi Fong and Katya, something the former greatly appreciated, but all good things must end.

Wings ready to go, Katya turned to her childish-looking friend. “Myrilla, when you finish your chores, I need you to do something for me.”

.....

Without warning or asking for permission, Myrilla threw herself at Katya, hugging her tightly and giving her a bunch of kisses on her face as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Interestingly, Katya didn’t react, as did Soi Fong, who didn’t even show any jealousy.

Once Myrilla finished giving Katya her cuddles, she gave one last squeeze with her wings and separated from Katya. “If the great and powerful archangel of balance requests it, this humble servant must comply. Remember that I don’t fight; I don’t like violence.”

Katya ignored half of what Myrilla said before answering. “I am aware of your aversion to violence, don’t worry, I just need you to visit a place. When you’re there, you can do whatever you want; knowing you and knowing him, I didn’t think you needed to do anything special.”

The mention of a man alerted Soi Fong, but she stayed away, seeing that this was not the time. On the other hand, Myrilla wasn’t fazed by how vague the task was; Katya had always been that way, probably due to her ability to spy on the flow of destiny.

Still, Myrilla had at least one question on her mind. “So where should I go?”

It may have been an illusion, but for a second, Soi Fong thought she saw a smile on Katya’s face when she answered the question. “Visteria G-153.”

(Association headquarters, central area, location unknown)

Sitting in a dark room, a man with red eyes and purple pupils was peering intently at a series of digital reports when an alert notification appeared in his line of sight.

“Oh, it looks like that little vermin is back.”

With a wave of his hand, the digital reports disappeared, leaving behind a holographic screen showing an office in a different association area. Next to the video playback, multiple folders began to open, all of which displayed recent activities and missions that one of the people in the holographic image took.

“Great talent and potential, not enough to be a threat, but the unknowns around him remain. The people he has brought with him are talented enough to compete with most hunters; is it a coincidence? Or is it related to the fairy queen? After all, one of them is an elf from an amazing and ancient race; it wouldn’t be strange for her to come from one of the forces allied to that crazy queen. Some of the quests he has taken were directly issued by Celestials; is it a coincidence? I don’t like it; I just don’t like it. It’s a variable.”

The eyes of the figure in the room filled with madness quickly as he muttered the words “It’s a variable” repeatedly. Then the voice stopped, and the holographic screens flashed at high speed.

In the end, a holographic screen opened, showing a series of data.

<Mission successfully issued.

Quest Content: XXXX

Reward: XXXX

Destination: Visteria G-153>

“I don’t know why I care so much; at the end of the day, he’s just another hunter. He is just one more insect; he can’t resist getting close to the flames. Our wealth is built on the lives of thousands, millions of little insects like him. Our time is running out; the more resources we can accumulate before that day, the better.”

Halfway through the speech, it was as if sanity had vanished from the owner of the voice, who laughed maniacally. The laughter stretched out into the void for nearly a minute before stopping.

“Come, little useless hunter, happily run to your death in search of riches. Even if you survive, you will only contribute to our glorious kingdom.”

Lost delusions of grandeur and power, the figure in the room never considered the possibility of being spied on. It was natural; with the technology and resources at the association’s disposal, the entire base had tons of wards and magical seals to protect against all kinds of things, including espionage.

In theory, it was impossible to spy on anything inside the base unless it was done with its security measures. Unless you had some kind of godly measure, like spying on the very fabric of destiny. As such, out of reach of any mortal means, a pair of golden eyes, bright and burning like a pair of suns, calmly watched everything that happened in the room.

(Unknown world, unknown location)

Moisture seeped through cracks in the massive stone walls of a vast natural cavern, where a small altar lay. In this underground place, where darkness stretched beyond sight, giving the cavern the illusion of stretching to infinity, the altar was the only thing that seemed to be made by the hand of a sentient being.

From the outer edge of one side of the cave, an incredibly long stone bridge extended, connecting to the altar via a set of perfectly carved gray stairs. Once past the stairs, six stone pillars stood proudly in a circular formation, cheekily displaying the exquisite craftsmanship with which they were cut.

Six pillars, each with a carving showing the humanoid form of six different creatures, each special and unique. Attached to these pillars was a beautiful set of black chains extending down the center of the altar. The vast, exquisite chains of the six pillars extended towards what looked like a humanoid figure in the center of the altar.

Covered entirely in chains, the figure showed not a single shadow of its true form, just as it showed no signs of life. The only thing outside the bondage of the chains was the figure’s head, but due to its penitent position, the figure’s face was turned towards the ground, hidden by long silver hair that fell like a waterfall.

It was hard to tell, as everything seemed perfectly preserved, but there was a sense of age and time around the temple that was hard to ignore. No matter who the chained figure was, it had probably spent a long time bound on the altar.

Given the size of each of the chains, and the way they wrapped around the figure, this person could not be huge physically, but the omnipresent sense of majesty around it would not let anyone be fooled by appearances.

She had spent so much time tied to the altar, betrayed and humiliated, but the figure remained the same from her confinement; without saying a word. The figure never begged or negotiated; it didn’t cry or scream. It had been too long down here; the figure didn’t even know if there was still anyone who remembered that she was still locked up here.

Maybe there was no one out there who remembered her imprisonment. Perhaps her name had been erased from the history books. Maybe their intention was always to let her rot in this prison forever; the figure didn’t know, and she didn’t care.

The figure was once the material of legends; one didn’t get to stand on top without having at least one ally, without having some backup plan. Time was impossible for the figure to measure, like trying to hold the sea with both hands; however, at some point in her long and almost eternal imprisonment, the figure felt something.

It was dim, but the figure was sure she hadn’t made a mistake, so lifting her face just enough so that one of her blood-red eyes would be exposed, she laughed very softly before saying a single word. “Claudius.”