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Chapter 4: The Price

  The road was a river of dust and loose stones.

  Lucas walked without hurry. But he was not alone.

  “Keep going.”

  The whisper slid through his mind like a thread of mist—soft, tempting.

  “The path is before you.”

  He did not answer. He could not answer.

  On the horizon, the city emerged like a scar upon the landscape, its tall walls, darkened by time, resembling the charred remains of an ancient beast.

  Lucas stopped for a moment, studying the entrance. The wind blew dust through the half-open gates, as if the very earth was trying to avoid that place.

  He knew he was not welcome there.

  But that had never stopped him before.

  Lucas stepped through the gates.

  The stench hit him first—a mix of rotting spices, rust, and dried sweat, thick in the suffocating heat. The city was alive, but there was nothing healthy about it.

  The streets were a choking mess, crowded with grimy tents and makeshift stalls vying for space. Merchants shouted offers in unfamiliar dialects, while beggars crawled through the muddy ground, skeletal hands reaching out for scraps.

  The scent of freshly baked bread lingered in the air, but it was drowned beneath the reek of dried blood and filth embedded in the cobblestones.

  Lucas passed a butcher’s stall where chunks of dark meat hung from rusted hooks, flies circling the slabs like vultures.

  A group of men played dice on a crooked table, their drunken laughter filling the air. The game was short-lived—a blade flashed, and one of them slumped backward, a thin red line trailing down his throat.

  No one reacted.

  The body remained, forgotten on the stone floor, while the others continued playing.

  “This is the kind of place where death means nothing.”

  Lucas kept walking.

  He could feel the eyes on him. Hollow, sunken faces watching from the shadows.

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  The city recognized predators.

  And Lucas was one of them.

  The wooden door creaked as it opened.

  The air inside was thick—heavy with smoke and secrets. Dim lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting flickering shadows across the stained tables.

  For a moment, the conversation stilled when Lucas entered.

  It was enough.

  They could feel it.

  He walked to the counter without haste. Ordered a drink. A mechanical gesture. A social ritual.

  A voice came before the man.

  “Looking for something, stranger?”

  Lucas did not turn.

  The scent of cheap wine and grease told him that the man behind him survived by selling information and betraying promises.

  “Information,” he replied. “About powerful figures.”

  A short laugh.

  “Power has a price. And you don’t look like you have enough gold.”

  “You don’t need to pay. You just need to take.”

  Lucas tilted his head just enough for the man to catch the eerie glint in his eyes.

  The informant’s breath hitched. He stepped back.

  Then, he smiled.

  “If it’s power you seek…” He gestured toward the farthest corner of the tavern. “…perhaps that man can help you.”

  At the very back, where darkness swallowed the lantern light, a hooded figure waited.

  Lucas walked toward him.

  “My name does not matter,” the man’s voice was calm. “But if you need one, call me Kael.”

  Lucas sat. The game had begun.

  “I seek a way to reclaim something lost,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I need to find the Demon King.”

  Kael remained silent.

  “He’s testing you.”

  Lucas ignored the voice.

  Kael leaned forward. “There is a legend… about a power that can bend the laws of existence. But, like all power…”

  He smiled.

  “…it comes at a price.”

  Lucas did not blink. “What price?”

  Kael placed his hands on the table. “To give you the map to this temple, I require a symbol. Something that proves you understand what you are about to do.”

  Lucas remained still.

  “What kind of symbol?”

  Kael leaned in closer. His gaze pierced through Lucas.

  “Every man has something that keeps him tethered to the past.”

  Lucas did not respond.

  Kael continued, a faint smile on his lips.

  “If you had to choose between moving forward or holding on to the last thing tying you to your past…”

  His eyes fell on the bracelet.

  “…what would you choose?”

  The air grew heavier.

  “He shouldn’t know.”

  Lucas swallowed hard.

  “Does he know?”

  Kael did not look away. He waited.

  Lucas looked at the bracelet.

  Clara’s laughter. Her shining eyes. The warmth of her tiny hand in his.

  “Let go.”

  Lucas clenched the bracelet tightly.

  “She has already forgotten you.”

  He closed his eyes.

  And then, he opened his hand.

  The bracelet slipped from his fingers, landing on the table.

  Kael picked it up carefully, as if holding something sacred.

  Lucas said nothing.

  But something inside him shattered.

  Kael smiled.

  “May this sacrifice grant you the clarity you need for what comes next.”

  Lucas took the map. Stood up.

  And walked out of the tavern without looking back.

  Every step he took felt heavier.

  More empty.

  And then, he heard it.

  “Now you belong to us.”

  The voice no longer whispered.

  It laughed.

  And Lucas laughed with it.

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