Chapter 40 – The Price of Information
[STEVE – VILLAGE IN THE FROZEN MOUNTAINS, AFTERNOON]
The sun was beginning to set behind the snow-covered peaks, painting the sky in shades of pale orange and deep purple. The snow reflected the soft light, creating an almost ethereal glow over the quiet village.
Steve ran across the open field near the first houses, laughing as he dodged three children at the same time — the blond boy of eight, a smaller girl with messy braids, and another boy with cheeks reddened from the cold.
The old leather ball passed between the blond boy's legs.
— Caaaatch it! — Steve shouted, spinning and kicking it with his heel.
The ball flew high, crossing over the heads of the children who ran desperately trying to reach it, landing perfectly at the feet of the braided girl.
She kicked it with all her strength — disproportionate to her size — and the ball passed brushing Steve's face, who pretended to fall dramatically into the snow.
— Ahhh! I've been hit! — he yelled, rolling exaggeratedly.
The children burst into laughter, running on top of him, jumping, burying him in snow and giggles.
For a few minutes — maybe ten, maybe twenty — Steve forgot.
Forgot Thornvale. Forgot Any waiting. Forgot the Fragment pulsing inside him. Forgot that he had only 169 days remaining.
He only existed there, in that moment, laughing with children who knew nothing about Nexus, Nessiras, or the end of the world.
Simple.
Pure.
Human.
---
On the other side of the field, three figures emerged from the village chief's house.
Dagon — tall, muscular, black hair slightly fluttering in the cold wind — stopped on the threshold, observing the scene with a crooked smile on his lips.
Keara beside him — brown hair tied in a practical ponytail, bow on her back, eyes soft as she watched Steve with an expression that could be tenderness — sighed quietly:
— A good sight to see.
She did not speak aloud. Just murmured to herself.
But Dagon heard.
He turned to Jelim — who came out last, a smooth white mask reflecting the orange light of the sunset without revealing anything.
— Don't you think so, Jelim? — he asked in a provocative tone, clearly expecting some reaction.
Jelim turned her head slowly in his direction.
Pause.
Then responded — voice muffled through the mask, yet carrying something that could be irritation:
— Don't ask what I do not understand.
Dagon let out a short laugh:
— Hah, you are always like that. — He began walking toward the field. — You should smile more, you know? It's good for your health!
Jelim remained still, observing him walk.
Head tilting slightly — an almost imperceptible movement — as if trying to process his behavior.
Why would anyone smile for no reason?
Why waste facial energy in an expression that communicates no useful information?
Why…
She gave up trying to understand.
Just followed in silence, always in the shadows, always watching.
---
Dagon reached the edge of the field and shouted — voice echoing:
— Hey, kid! KID!
Steve — still half buried in snow with children laughing over him — lifted his head.
Saw Dagon waving.
— HEY, DAGON! — he shouted back, a huge smile on his face.
He gently pushed the children, stood up, shaking snow from his shoulders and hair.
Turned to them:
— Sorry, guys. I have to go take care of something now.
The blond boy — the one who had kicked the ball so hard before — pouted:
— Play more ball with us, brother Steve!
The others echoed:
— Yes! Just a little more!
— Don't go yet!
Steve knelt down, bringing himself to their eye level. Smiled — genuine, warm:
— I can't now. But… — dramatic pause — …I promise when I come back, I'll play with you again. How about that?
The children's eyes lit up.
— You promise, brother Steve?! — the blond boy shouted.
— I promise — Steve replied, extending his hand.
The boy gripped it tightly — that serious handshake children do when they want to show they are grown-ups.
The other two children also shook hands, one by one, officially confirming the promise with comic solemnity.
Steve stood, waved, and began walking toward the group.
— Come back soon, brother Steve! — they shouted behind him.
He just waved without looking back — he did not trust that he could leave if he looked again at those smiling faces.
---
He reached Dagon, Keara, and Jelim.
— Any news? — he asked, still smiling slightly, brushing snow from his hair.
Dagon made a sound — something between a laugh and a sigh — and replied with a crooked smile:
— Hmmm…
The tone made Steve frown.
Something happened.
Dagon looked at the sky for a second — as if remembering — and the memory returned with perfect clarity.
---
[FLASHBACK — 30 MINUTES EARLIER]
[INSIDE THE CHIEF'S HOUSE]
The house was simple but clean — dark polished wood, fireplace crackling softly, smell of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. The chief sat behind a large table covered with old maps and yellowed scrolls.
Dagon, Keara, and Jelim sat on wooden benches on the other side.
The silence had stretched for almost a full minute — the chief just observing the three with eyes too sharp for someone so old.
Finally, he spoke:
— You are looking for the whereabouts of the Nessiras?
It was not a question. It was confirmation.
Dagon nodded slowly:
— Yes. We want to know where, in these mountains, we can find any clue of the Nessira people. Or rather… — deliberate pause — …the Guardian.
The chief did not visibly react. But something changed in his eyes — recognition, perhaps. Or caution.
— I will tell you. — Heavy pause. — And I will give all the information you want.
Keara leaned forward, hopeful.
The chief continued:
— But first… — a thin smile appeared — …you will have to do a favor for me. And for my village.
The tone changed. Not threatening. But transactional.
Dagon crossed his arms, leaning back:
— And what kind of favor would that be?
The chief stood — slow but fluid movement for someone his age — and walked to the window, looking at the distant mountains.
— There, in the northeast mountains… — he pointed — …there are creatures that have been terrorizing my villagers for weeks.
He turned back:
— From what I see, you are experienced adventurers. — Eyes scanning each one, evaluating. — I think you can do this favor. Help me… and help yourselves with the information you seek.
Dagon tilted his head slightly, cynical smile appearing:
— Yeah… seems like nothing comes for free, right?
The chief smiled back — not friendly, but understanding:
— You know well that nothing comes for free in this world, stranger.
He took a folded map from the table and extended it to Dagon.
— Here is the exact location. The creatures usually appear at dusk. — Pause. — Three villagers have already died in the last two weeks. We cannot lose more.
Dagon took the map, opening it. Studied it for a few seconds.
Then looked up:
— At least I can know your name?
The chief shook his head slowly:
— There is no need to know my name.
Dagon frowned:
— Why?
— Because after you have the information you seek… — the chief sat back down, fingers interlaced on the table — …you will leave. It is that simple.
His eyes did not divert. Cold. Calculating.
— Names do not matter between people who will never see each other again.
Dagon held his gaze for a long moment.
Then stood, folding the map:
— I understand…
Walked to the door, stopping before leaving:
— Fine. We will return after completing the mission.
Left without waiting for a response.
---
Outside, as soon as the door closed, Jelim was the first to speak:
— I do not trust that man.
Voice low but cutting.
Keara immediately agreed, adjusting the bow on her back:
— Neither do I. Seems like he is hiding something. — Pause. — The way he spoke… as if he knew exactly what we were looking for before we even asked.
Dagon descended the wooden steps of the entrance, stopping in the snow:
— I noticed that too. — He looked at the map in his hands. — But we have no choice. We want the information… so we will play his game.
He turned to the two:
— However… — tone growing serious — …we must be very careful with our steps. This "favor" could very well be a trap.
Jelim tilted her head:
— And even so, we go?
Dagon smiled — not happy, but confident:
— Of course. — He began walking. — Because if it is a trap… well, we are not exactly easy victims.
---
[PRESENT — OPEN FIELD]
The memory faded.
Dagon looked at Steve and summarized with a crooked smile:
— The chief is a super villain. And he thinks we are those easy victims. — Pause. — Not knowing that we are different.
Steve blinked, processing:
— …What?
Dagon laughed.
Steve crossed his arms, irritated:
— I'm not a child. Explain it like someone grown-up.
Dagon looked at him — at the face still half-covered in snow, hair messy, residual smile from having played with the children — and let out a laugh:
— It's hard to believe that… — he pointed to the field — …since you were literally playing with children two minutes ago.
Steve opened his mouth to protest.
Dagon placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him:
— Calm down, kid. — He pointed to the mountains in the distance. — Our next mission is there. Those mountains.
Steve looked, frowning:
— They are not far from the village…
Keara approached, voice serious:
— Yes. Because there we will face monsters in exchange for information from the village chief.
Pause.
— But all of this… — she looked at Dagon, then Jelim — …could very well be a trap planned by him.
She smiled — small, almost imperceptible:
— Satisfied, grown-up boy?
Steve processed. Then nodded slowly:
— Now it's clearer.
Dagon clapped once:
— Very well! Then let's go to our next trap.
He began walking toward the mountains.
Keara and Jelim followed.
Steve stayed still for a second, then ran after them:
— Wait! — He caught up. — If it is a trap, shouldn't we avoid it?
Dagon turned his face slightly — not stopping — and replied confidently:
— Do not worry, kid. We have a lot of experience surviving traps.
Steve looked at the three — Dagon walking confidently, Keara checking arrows, Jelim silent as always.
Strange people.
But… trustworthy.
He smiled.
And ran:
— Wait for me!
---
[NORTHEAST MOUNTAINS — 1 HOUR LATER]
The path started easy — well-defined trail, compacted snow, sparse trees.
But as they climbed, everything changed.
The trail disappeared under deep snow. Trees grew denser, dead, branches twisted like claws. The air grew colder — not gradually, but abruptly, as if crossing an invisible wall.
And the silence.
Absolute.
No wind. No birds. No sound of snow falling from branches.
Only their steps — crunch, crunch, crunch — echoing too strangely.
Steve sensed it through the Fragment before seeing it.
Pulse.
[ALERT: CORRUPTED ENTITIES DETECTED]
— Stop — he whispered.
Everyone froze.
Dagon sniffed the air. His eyes changed — pupils narrowing, becoming reptilian for a second:
— Three. No… four. — Pause. — And they are hungry.
Keara already had her bow in hand, arrow nocked.
Jelim did not move. Just observed the surrounding trees.
Steve took a deep breath, fists clenching:
— Where?
Dagon pointed ahead — to a small clearing fifty meters away, where the trees formed a perfect circle.
— There. Waiting.
Pause.
— They know we are here.
Steve swallowed hard:
— Trap?
Dagon smiled — not humor, but anticipation:
— Obviously.
He looked at each of them:
— Ready?
Keara nodded, fingers adjusting the bowstring.
Jelim said nothing. Just stepped forward.
Steve activated the system:
[CLASS: ELEMENTAL READY]
Took a deep breath:
— Ready.
And they advanced.
Into the trap.
Knowing exactly what it was.
But going anyway.
Because sometimes, the only way out is through.
---
[LOCATION: FROZEN MOUNTAINS — CORRUPTED TERRITORY]
[NEXT CHAPTER: The XP Festival]