They say the quiet ones are the scariest when angered.
And right now, that saying couldn't be more true.
The Faerus—normally gentle, timid little creatures—were changing before my eyes. The same beings that used to tremble at the sight of predators now trembled for an entirely different reason: fury.
Even the meekest creatures have their limits, and for the Faerus, that limit was clear.
Their home.
This abandoned mansion wasn't just a hideout to them—it was their sanctuary. The one place they could exist without fear.
And now, someone had dared to destroy it.
Their delicate, glowing eyes, usually filled with curiosity and shyness, had turned sharp and burning red.
But if you looked at them without context—small, fluttering, almost fairy-like creatures making soft balloon-like piyuu sounds—you'd never think they were dangerous.
"Vermin…" the intruder spat, sneering as he raised his weapon. "Just a bunch of bugs!"
See that? He still didn't get it.
