Part 2
"And tell me, Lord Terram, has anyone been injured besides the livestock?" Yuna asked, her tone firm yet concerned.
Terram turned toward the villagers who had accompanied him, seeking confirmation.
The elves shook their heads, some even crossing their arms, clearly indicating they had no additional information.
"No, no reports mention direct attacks on villagers," Terram replied, his voice serious.
Haruto nodded slowly, bringing a hand to his chin as he reflected.
"Just as I thought. It's not aggressive—it's simply looking for food," Haruto said, sharing his thoughts with the group.
"I assume those villagers aren't your escorts. What do they have to tell us?" Lord Kazeharu interjected, crossing his arms and eyeing his counterpart curiously.
Terram burst out laughing, lightly slapping his thigh.
"Ha, ha, ha! Always so observant, Zephyrus. These villagers have witnessed the 'Golden Eyes,' but they're the only ones brave enough to come forward. You know how it is. Since Cherri is our deity, many are afraid they might offend her with their words," he said with an ironic smile.
Cherri, who had been listening attentively, raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms with a slight air of indignation.
"How rude. I'm very kind and not intimidating at all, right, Zephyrus?" the dryad asked, turning toward the leader of the wind elves as petals floated around her with charming grace.
Lord Kazeharu swallowed hard and looked away slightly, a bead of sweat running down his temple.
"Uh... yes, I suppose so," Kazeharu replied nervously, clearly trying not to disrupt the mood.
"Hmph, ungrateful! But let's not stray from the topic. Who wants to start?" Cherri said, dismissing it with a lighthearted wave as she turned her attention to the villagers.
The eldest elf raised his hand, stepping forward with a slight bow of respect.
"If I may, I would like to share my experience. And I am deeply grateful that you allow us to enter your sacred auditorium, oh great Cherri," he said, his voice trembling but full of respect.
Cherri nodded solemnly, grateful for his words.
"Go ahead, Eldon. We're all here to listen," she replied calmly, as the petals around her moved with gentle grace.
The elf nodded slowly before continuing.
"My name is Eldon."
"I'm one of the veteran farmers in our village."
"Several years ago, my chicken coop was attacked repeatedly over several nights," he began, his tone reflecting the tension he still carried.
The group listened closely as the elf continued his story.
"At first, I thought it was just common monsters, so I hired a couple of silver wolf demi-humans to help defend the place. But..." he paused, as if still trying to process what he had witnessed,
"...on the second night of patrol, we saw it."
Eldon lifted his gaze to the group, his expression heavy with gravity.
"Two golden eyes shining brightly from the underbrush. It was as if they pierced straight through the darkness."
"Fear completely paralyzed us, and before we could react, the figure vanished in the blink of an eye."
The listeners exchanged intrigued glances. Even Thalindra stopped taking notes to focus fully on the account.
"At the time, I didn't understand it, but... my coop was never attacked again," the elf finished, his voice a mix of gratitude and confusion.
Haruto, thoughtful, crossed his arms.
"Interesting."
"It seems like it doesn't seek to cause unnecessary harm," he commented, his words hanging in the air as the group reflected."
Another, younger elf timidly raised his hand before speaking.
"My name is Fennrick."
"There was a time I dreamed of becoming an adventurer, but when I couldn't find a party, I decided to work in Lord Olver's orchard, harvesting fruit," he began, with a mix of nostalgia and nerves.
All eyes turned to him, encouraging him to continue.
"One afternoon, while I was working, I felt like someone was watching me."
"At first, I thought it was just my imagination, but then I saw them... those golden eyes among the trees," he said, his voice lowering slightly as if reliving the moment.
"What did you do?" Thalindra asked, leaning forward slightly with interest.
"I decided to investigate, of course."
"But when I got there, I only found claw marks on the trees."
"No footprints. No trace of the creature" Fennrick explained, frowning.
Simmone, who had been listening attentively, spoke up.
"Its claws seem to be the only thing it can't completely control. That's the common thread in all the reports," she said, her tone cold but analytical.
Another villager, a middle-aged elf woman, raised her hand.
"If I may add something," she said in a calm yet firm tone. "A few days ago, my children went fishing with some friends—two elves from the Ondaris tribe."
"You know how children are," she continued, letting out a sigh. "They leave everything scattered everywhere. While they were cooling off at home, I went back to fetch the fishing rods they had forgotten by the river."
The adventurers exchanged curious looks, intrigued about what she would say next.
"When I got there, I saw a curious figure inspecting the rods. My eyesight isn't what it used to be, so I couldn't make it out clearly, but... it looked like a person," she said, pausing, as if trying to organize her thoughts.
"What happened next?" Yuna asked, a flicker of concern in her eyes.
"When it heard my footsteps, the figure... blurred, like an illusion, and disappeared from my sight," the elf woman responded, her voice tinged with confusion.
"It was the strangest thing I've ever seen in my life."
The group fell silent for a moment, processing the testimonies.
Each new detail added more layers to the mystery surrounding "Golden Eyes," making it clear it wasn't just a simple creature—but something far more complicated.
The last villager stood up, bowing slightly before speaking.
"Well, you've already heard the others. I don't have much more to add, but I can tell you that my livestock has been attacked occasionally over the years. Not often—maybe one animal every six months," he said, his voice calm but laced with restrained frustration.
He paused briefly, as if gathering his thoughts, before continuing.
"Despite setting up multiple traps, all of them have been disabled, one by one. I'm sure it was 'Golden Eyes' because one night, while on guard duty, I saw those eyes... watching me while it cut through a fence with its sharp claws. It was a gaze I'll never forget—one of those that haunts your nightmares."
The villager swallowed hard, recalling the moment.
"Also, the marks on the carcasses match the claw marks found on nearby trees... deep gashes, like those made by a predator."
Haruto nodded, his expression serious as he crossed his arms.
"I see. But neither you nor your companions have had any direct confrontations?" he asked, seeking clarity.
"That's right. So far, I don't know of anyone who's been hurt. We've only suffered property damage and the loss of some supplies," the villager responded with a tone of resigned frustration.
Simmone, who had remained silent until then, finally spoke. Her tone was cold but thoughtful.
"It has the instincts of a hunter... but hides like prey. I can understand how it feels."
Cherri raised an eyebrow, her curiosity evident.
"And what makes you say that?" she asked, turning toward the small girl.
Simmone crossed her arms and answered without hesitation.
"That's easy... I've been prey my whole life. I've been hunted since I was a child, and I know how someone who lives in fear thinks."
The group fell silent again, her words resonating heavily in the air.
Kizuna fluttered near Simmone, as if trying to lighten the mood—but the girl seemed not to notice.
"If this being were truly an enemy... if it were truly dangerous... you would already know it," Simmone continued, her voice low but firm.
She paused, her gaze steady on the villagers.
"But then... why insist on bothering it, if no lives are at risk?"
The younger elf frowned, his posture tense as he answered.
"It's invading our sacred forest—and taking advantage of our hard work," he said, his tone defensive.
Simmone watched him silently for a moment before speaking again, her voice cold but carrying something harder to define.
"Tch. You have no idea how stressful it is to live with the constant fear of being hunted, just because someone mistakes you for a killer," Simmone said, crossing her arms and shooting a cold glare at the gathered villagers.
"It's just a being looking for something to eat, like a homeless person fighting every day just to survive. You don't know what it's like to live without a guaranteed meal... to have to dig through scraps just to eat."
The silence that followed her words was heavy—almost oppressive.
"I refuse to take part in this senseless hunt," she added, her tone final, making her stance unmistakably clear.
Without waiting for a response, Simmone turned away, her small figure firm and resolute as she began to walk off.
Kizuna, fluttering at her side, watched her with a look of mild concern but said nothing.
Despite the apparent lack of emotion in her voice, Simmone's words echoed in the air, impossible to ignore.
There was something deeper—an unspoken pain—embedded in the way she spoke.
Though she didn't express it openly, her firm and steady steps seemed to carry a burden she shared with no one.