At the gate of Ishora Village, Jerome and Shelly stood among a group of hunters, preparing for their expedition. The atmosphere was tense yet filled with determination. At least 24 warriors were assigned to protect them, while the rest focused on tracking and hunting.
Elder Gido, the village elder, stepped forward, his gaze settling on a man clad in sturdy leather armor. "Lok, I'll leave them in your hands," he said, his voice carrying the weight of responsibility.
Lok straightened and saluted respectfully. "You can count on me, Elder."
The elder gave a firm nod, his aged eyes scanning the group before he stepped back.
From the crowd, Yato called out, "Jerome, be careful!"
"Brother, be careful!" Elma echoed, her small voice filled with concern.
Jerome met their worried gazes and gave them a reassuring smile. "I'll be back soon."
"Let’s move out," Jerome commanded. Moments later, the hunters set off. Some carried sacks for their spoils, while a small cart pulled by two sturdy horses followed behind, ready to transport their kills.
"Jerome, your safety is in my hands," Lok assured him as they walked.
Jerome smirked. "We’ll be fine, Lok. Just focus on protecting the rest."
"He's right," Shelly chimed in, adjusting the grip on her staff. "We can handle ourselves."
Lok hesitated but eventually relented with a nod. "Alright, if you say so."
Into the Forest
As they entered the dense wilderness, towering trees loomed above them, their thick canopies casting shadows over the underbrush. The scent of damp earth and foliage filled the air, and the occasional rustling of unseen creatures sent shivers through the less-experienced hunters.
Not long after, Jerome's sharp gaze caught movement in the undergrowth. A grotesque creature with slimy green skin, three bulging eyes, and a long, venomous tongue slithered near the roots of a tree. His grip tightened on his staff.
It was a Three-Eyed Toad.
Elder Gido had warned them about these creatures, labeling them as pests. They had been responsible for the deaths of Tino’s livestock, and now, they were being culled.
"Wait," Jerome said, stepping forward. "I’ll take care of this."
With a flick of his wrist, a small fireball formed at the tip of his staff, glowing intensely. The moment he released it, the projectile shot forward like a comet, striking the creature dead-on.
Boom!
The three eye toad exploded into a gruesome mess, chunks of its flesh scattering across the ground.
The hunters behind him stood frozen, eyes wide with shock and admiration.
"Wow," one of them murmured, awestruck.
Jealousy flickered in some of their eyes. Not everyone was born with the affinity for magic. Many of them had only their blades and bows to rely on.
"One shot," Shelly remarked, a hint of pride in her voice.
"Let's keep moving. We have more beasts to clear out," Jerome said, unfazed.
The group nodded and pressed forward, stepping deeper into the hunting grounds.
The Hunting Grounds. They arrived at an open clearing, the designated hunting area.
"Jerome, this is as far as we go," Lok reminded him. "Beyond this point lies the forbidden area. Elder Gido strictly instructed us not to cross that boundary."
"Understood," Jerome replied, though his eyes lingered on the darkened depths beyond. Something about the unknown always tempted him, but for now, their task was here.
The hunters spread out, drawing their bows and unsheathing their blades. The hunt began in full force.
The forest soon echoed with the sounds of battle.
Arrows whistled through the air, embedding into their targets with sickening thuds. Swords clashed against the hides of monstrous creatures, while bursts of magic lit up the darkened foliage. Explosions rocked the area, sending birds and insects into a frenzy.
The cries of beasts filled the surroundings as the hunters pressed forward, cutting down any threat to their village.
After Hours of Battle
Sweat trickled down Shelly’s forehead as she wiped it away with the back of her hand. Her chest rose and fell with exertion. "Brother Jerome, how many have you caught?" she asked.
Jerome, unfazed by the exhaustion, tossed another Three-Eyed Toad carcass into his bag. "I stopped counting. As long as we catch enough, the village will be safe."
The group of hunters moved cautiously through the underbrush, carrying their fallen prey. Their weapons, still slick with fresh blood, gleamed under the dim light that pierced through the trees.
Suddenly, Jerome halted, his body tensing. His eyes narrowed, scanning the distance.
"There it is… got you," he whispered.
"Quiet," he ordered, his voice barely above a breath.
The hunters behind him immediately stilled, their movements ceasing. The once-lively atmosphere turned eerily silent.
Only the distant chirping of birds, the whisper of the wind through the trees, and the faint buzzing of insects filled the air.
The weight of the silence pressed against them, amplifying their senses, making every heartbeat feel louder.
"What is it, Brother Jerome?" Shelly asked, gripping her staff tightly, her body tensed for whatever was lurking ahead.
"Over there," he pointed.
Not far from them, a beast crouched over the carcass of another creature—one that looked eerily similar to a fox.
Shelly’s eyes widened as she recognized the predator. It had the sleek, muscular build of a leopard, with dark, patterned fur that blended into the shadows.
Wasting no time, she whispered an incantation under her breath, swinging her staff.
A bright fireball erupted from its tip, cutting through the air like a shooting star.
The moment the fireball struck, an explosion rang out. The beast barely had time to react before it was engulfed in flames. Its body jerked violently before collapsing, blood splattering across the ground.
"That was amazing, Miss Shelly! You took down a Tipard in a single shot!" one of the hunters exclaimed. "Casters really do make hunting much faster!"
Shelly grinned, placing her hands on her hips, basking in the praise.
Her moment of triumph, however, was short-lived.
Jerome smacked her lightly on the forehead.
"Don’t get too full of yourself," he chided. "You still have a lot to learn."
"Ow! Brother Jerome, come on! Let me enjoy the compliments for once!" she whined, rubbing the sore spot.
The other hunters chuckled before dragging the Tipard’s carcass toward their growing pile of slain beasts.
"Who's carrying this one?" a middle-aged hunter asked.
"I’ll do it!" a young hunter volunteered, hoisting the heavy, charred body onto his shoulder.
Jerome surveyed their spoils. "This should be enough. We’ve got plenty to bring back."
The hunters nodded in agreement.
"Thank you, Jerome. If it weren’t for you and Miss Shelly, this hunt would’ve been much more difficult," one of them said gratefully.
"Don’t mention it," Jerome replied. "This is for the village."
As they prepared to head back, Shelly suddenly recalled something. "Brother Jerome, what about the Three-Eyed Toad that stole your Acdilla Herb?"
Jerome sighed. "Forget it. The forest is vast. Tracking it now would be nearly impossible."
"But that herb was valuable…" Shelly muttered, disappointed.
Jerome merely shrugged, already focusing on the path ahead.
"Alright, everyone! The hunt is over. Let’s head home!" he called out.
"Yeah!" the hunters cheered in unison, their voices echoing through the forest.
Yet, unknown to them, something lurked nearby.
Hidden behind the thick underbrush, a beast crouched low, its gleaming, hungry eyes locked onto its prey. The moonlight filtering through the canopy barely illuminated its muscular form.
Its lips curled into a silent snarl. Its claws flexed against the damp earth.
A low, guttural growl rumbled from its throat—deep and menacing—just barely audible over the whispering wind.
Jerome suddenly halted mid-step, his body tensing. A cold sensation crept up his spine, setting every nerve on high alert.
Something was wrong.
"Brother Jerome, what’s the matter?" Shelly asked, noticing his sudden change in demeanor.
He didn’t answer immediately. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, his ears straining. The rustling of leaves and the occasional breeze filled the air. But something was missing.
No birds. No insects.
The eerie silence sent a chill through him.
"I heard something," Jerome muttered.
"Maybe it was just the wind," Lok suggested, shifting his grip on his weapon. "We need to move, Jerome. It’ll be night soon, and staying in the forest after dark isn’t wise."
"He’s right," Shelly added. "We should keep going."
Jerome hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to stay on guard. But before he could respond—
Crack
The sound of splintering wood tore through the silence.
His eyes snapped upward just in time to see a massive tree branch—thick as a grown man’s thigh—hurtling toward them through the air.
"Look out!" Jerome shouted.
Reacting on instinct, he grabbed Shelly’s head and shoved her down, ducking just in time.
The branch crashed into the group with brutal force. A sickening thud echoed as it struck several hunters, sending them sprawling to the ground. Cries of pain rang out—some groaned, clutching their limbs, while others lay unmoving.
Jerome’s heart pounded. That wasn’t an accident. Something threw it.
His gaze snapped to the direction it had come from, his grip tightening on his staff.
And then, in the dim light, he saw them—two burning eyes peering from the darkness.
The predator had revealed itself.