CHAPTER 20 — The Price of Fear
Zodac spent the night in the forest.
No fire.
No warmth.
Only the cold earth beneath him and the rough bark of a tree supporting his head.
Despite everything, he slept soundly — the kind of deep, empty sleep that comes only after a heart has broken beyond repair.
By morning, he rose in silence.
He slipped on a hooded cloth, the fabric shadowing his face entirely. No one could see him. No one could recognize him. That was exactly how he wanted it.
The forest thinned as he walked, and soon, the outline of a small village appeared beyond the trees. Compared to Sundara capital, it was tiny — a cluster of wooden buildings, smoke trailing from chimneys, people moving about with baskets, carts, and tools. But it was alive, thriving in its own humble way.
Zodac walked the busy road slowly, observing the different faces, the noise, the movement. His steps were calm… almost too calm.
Then he heard it.
"How much can I trade for this?" a man at a nearby stall asked.
"Five coppers," the trader replied.
Zodac watched the exchange as the buyer handed over a small bunch of balloon pieces — less than half of what Zodac carried.
Five coppers.
His eyes narrowed beneath the hood.
When the man left, Zodac walked toward the stall.
The trader, a middle-aged man wearing a faded red shirt and a yellow scarf, jolted slightly at Zodac's silent approach. He quickly forced a smile onto his face.
"H-how may I help you?" he asked, voice trembling just enough for Zodac to notice.
"I want to trade," Zodac said. His tone was dull — but underneath it was something hollow and unsettling.
"Y-yes, of course! You're in the right place. I can assure you offer a fair price when you trade here."
Zodac untied a bundled ball from his bag and dropped it on the counter. The trader looked down and saw dozens of balloon pieces — far more than the earlier customer.
"Hmmm…" the trader murmured, scratching his chin with exaggerated thought.
"Two coppers," he finally said.
Zodac went silent.
Completely silent.
So silent that the air around them seemed to shift. Passersby paused for a moment before continuing on, unwilling to get involved.
The trader forced a chuckle. "So… is it a deal?"
Zodac slowly lifted his head, the shadow of the hood hiding everything except the faint glow beginning to burn in his eyes.
"You said you guarantee a fair price," Zodac said, voice calm but sharp enough to cut.
"I—I did. And that is a fair price if you ask me," the man insisted, sliding two copper coins forward.
"You traded a smaller amount, less than half of this, for five coppers," Zodac said quietly. "How is mine worth two?"
The trader froze.
He hadn't expected Zodac to have heard anything.
And now, his fake smile cracked.
"Listen, kid…" he snarled suddenly, dropping the act as his true nature was revealed.
"Prices change. Take it or leave it."
He flicked the two copper coins off the counter. They clattered and rolled to the ground until they stopped by Zodac's feet.
People looked.
People watched.
But no one stepped forward.
Zodac didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't speak.
His hand, however, clenched into a tight fist — and the trader didn't even notice.
"And besides," the trader continued boldly, "I didn't get where I am by givin' people fair prices. That'd be stupid—"
He never finished the sentence.
Zodac snapped.
One moment the trader was smirking…
and the next his back SLAMMED into the counter, knocking the breath from his lungs.
Raygust materialized in Zodac's hand, gleaming dangerously as he pressed its edge against the trader's neck.
The crowd stopped.
Several people gasped.
But just as Zodac had predicted, none stepped forward.
"Y-you… you're really gonna kill me?" the trader croaked. "In front of all these people?"
He smirked again—
until he looked into Zodac's hood.
The smirk died instantly.
The trader's face drained of color.
Zodac's glowing red eyes stared at him — empty, soulless, cold enough to freeze marrow. Eyes that didn't just look at him…
they looked through him.
"I don't care what they think," Zodac said quietly. "I don't feel worried. I don't feel hesitant. I don't care if I kill you."
Raygust pressed harder, drawing a line of blood.
"People like you make me sick," Zodac whispered. "And I will pluck every one of you out of this world with my own hands."
The trader swallowed hard, body trembling violently.
"And look," Zodac said, his tone turning almost bored, "not one of these people will lift a finger to save you. They'll watch you die and walk away."
He leaned in closer.
"So I'll ask again.
How much can I trade for it?"
"F-fifteen!" the trader yelped. "Fif—fifteen coppers!"
Zodac released him, and the man collapsed onto the counter, gasping. Zodac tossed an empty pouch onto the wood, and the trader hurriedly filled it, shaking so badly the coins clinked loudly.
"T-that's all," he said, sliding it back.
Zodac didn't respond. He simply placed the rabbit fur on the counter.
"And this?"
"F-five silver coins!" the trader blurted instantly.
"Just five?" Zodac asked, raising Raygust slightly.
The trader almost fainted.
"W-well, things like this don't sell for much unless it's bear fur, or—or dragon scales, or crystals, or emerald!" he explained rapidly, sweating through his shirt.
Zodac paused.
"Do you know where I can find something like that?"
"Or something with extremely high value?"
The trader's greed flickered through his fear — just for a moment. He leaned in cautiously, elbows on the wooden counter, voice dropping to a whisper.
"For your first question… no. But for the second—yes. There is something."
Zodac's eyes narrowed.
"I'm listening."
The trader looked left.
Then right.
Making sure no rival merchant was eavesdropping.
Then, trembling, he leaned so close Zodac could smell the fear on his breath.
"Have you ever heard of…"
He swallowed.
Then whispered a single word.
"ILEUM."
The color drained from even his own face as he said it.
As if speaking the name itself invited death.