Ragnar trudged forward along the narrow dirt path, the morning air still cool against his sweat-damp skin.
Lila matched his pace in silence for a long stretch until he finally spoke, voice low but firm.
"We have to cross the Valva field," he said. "Collect thirty of the fruits. That's what the goblin wants to finish my task."
Lila's steps faltered. She turned sharp eyes on him.
"You do realize what lives there, don't you?"
Ragnar's jaw tightened. He gave a single, hard nod.
"Valos."
The name hung between them like smoke. Everyone in the tribe knew the stories.
Valos, the stone serpent, a geo elemental older than the oldest trees.
A mountain of coiled rock and rage that had claimed the entire field as its lair.
Hunters who stepped even a single pace too far inside its territory never came back.
The spears came without warning, jagged pillars of basalt thrusting straight up from the earth, silent until they punched through flesh and bone.
Lila's voice dropped. "Those spears… no one sees them coming. No one hears them. They just die."
Ragnar kept walking, but his mind was racing.
'They didn't know,' he thought. 'The people here never figured it out. But I do.'
Back on Earth he'd read enough, watched enough documentaries, vibrations traveled through the ground faster than the eye could track.
If he listened, really listened, he could feel the subtle tremor before the stone even cracked the surface.
Lila stepped closer, searching his face. "And how exactly do you plan to do that? More importantly, "
Her voice hardened. "Do you understand what happens if you make Valos angry enough to leave its field? It won't just kill you. It'll come for the whole tribe. Val. Your aunt. Everyone."
Ragnar stopped.
For one long heartbeat the fear clawed up his throat.
What if this world didn't obey the same rules? What if the serpent moved on instinct instead of physics? What if he was wrong?
Then the other thought came, colder and heavier.
'If I keep playing it safe, I stay Ragnar the rat forever. Small. Weak. Forgotten.'
He met Lila's unflinching stare.
"I know what I'm doing," he said quietly.
She held his gaze another second, then gave the smallest nod.
"Even if your body is weak," she murmured, "you have the heart of a warrior."
They turned and walked on toward the field.
The Valva field opened before them like a blood-red sea.
Thousands of spiral-shaped fruits hung low on thick, thorned vines, glowing faintly in the daylight.
Ragnar crouched behind a screen of bushes, breath shallow.
"Thirty," he muttered. "Why the hell does it have to be thirty?"
He motioned for Lila to follow. They moved low, almost on hands and knees, stealing toward the nearest cluster.
Ragnar plucked the first fruit, firm, warm, heavier than it looked.
Then another. And another. Fifteen now. His fingers shook.
The ground hummed.
A faint, deep vibration rolled up through his palms and into his bones.
"Jump left!" he barked.
Lila didn't hesitate. Ragnar threw himself sideways just as the earth exploded behind them.
A black stone spear, taller than a man, lanced upward exactly where he'd been crouching, grazing his shoulder. Hot blood instantly soaked his shirt.
He hissed through clenched teeth and scrambled up.
"Keep moving," he growled. "Three Valva at a time. Listen when I call it."
They darted forward again. Pick three. Wait. Feel the tremor. Jump.
Each time the spear came closer. Each time Ragnar felt the vibration a heartbeat sooner.
His body screamed, lungs burning, legs trembling, but he refused to stop.
Lila moved like water, dodging effortlessly, her powerful frame twisting mid-air with infuriating grace.
Ragnar envied her. Hated how easily she danced around death while he clawed for every inch.
'Focus,' he told himself. 'Fail now and we're both dead. Val's dead. Aunt's dead. Everyone who trusted me is dead.'
Four hours.
Four brutal, endless hours of snatch-and-run, of stone spears splitting the air inches from their spines, of blood running down his arm and dripping onto the red dirt.
Finally Ragnar tore the thirtieth fruit free.
"Go!" he rasped.
They sprinted. Behind them the field went quiet again, Valos sinking back into its stony sleep.
When they finally collapsed behind a ridge, chests heaving, Lila stared at him, wide-eyed, almost disbelieving.
"You're the first man I've ever seen steal from Valos and walk away," she said softly. "The first to earn my respect by doing it."
Ragnar managed a tired, crooked smile, wiping blood and sweat from his face.
Lila tilted her head, listening. "There's water nearby. I can hear it."
She tugged at her soaked tunic, grimacing. "I'm covered in dirt and sweat. I need a bath."
She glanced at him, a faint challenge in her eyes.
Ragnar nodded once, too exhausted to argue.
Together they rose and followed the sound of running water toward the river.