The Sword with a Price

Mang Ambo stood at the center, his voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. "This man, Lucius, claims he can rid us of the terror that haunts our nights. But his aid comes at a steep price—one that will strain our collective coffers."

A wave of unrest swept through the villagers. Some voices rose in immediate protest, decrying the idea of entrusting their safety to a stranger, especially one driven by greed.

"Why should we place our trust and our hard-earned wealth in the hands of an outsider?" challenged a young farmer, his brow furrowed in skepticism. "Who's to say he can do what he claims, or that this... Kapre is even the true source of our troubles?"

Others, however, were swayed by the direness of their situation. A middle-aged woman, her voice laced with fear, countered, "But what choice do we have? Every night brings new terror. If there's even a chance this man can save us, shouldn't we take it? Our lives, the safety of our children, is worth more than gold."

The debate raged on, with voices rising and falling like the tide. Arguments were made on both sides—some driven by fear of the unknown, others by the desperation that had been building like a storm cloud over their village.

In the end, Mang Ambo called for a vote, a decision to be made by the collective will of the people. The villagers cast their lots, stones dropped into baskets, a silent testament to their choice.

When the votes were counted, the decision was clear, albeit by a narrow margin. The villagers, driven by the primal instinct to survive, chose to hire Lucius. The weight of their collective fear and the hope that this sellsword could offer salvation tipped the scales.

Mang Ambo addressed the assembly, his voice tinged with the gravity of their decision. "We have chosen to place our trust in Lucius. Let us hope that our faith is not misplaced. We will pool our resources, for the safety of our village is our paramount concern. Let us stand united in this decision, for divided we will fall to the shadows that seek to consume us."

The meeting disbanded, leaving the villagers with a mix of emotions—hope, fear, and the underlying tension of uncertainty. But above all, there was a sense of resolve. They had made their choice, and now they would face the consequences together, as a village united against the darkness.

With the village's decision made, Lucius set about making the necessary preparations for the confrontation with the Kapre. He meticulously checked his equipment, sharpening his sword and arranging an array of traps and lures designed to counter the supernatural strengths of his adversary. His actions, observed from a distance by curious villagers, were methodical and betrayed a deep familiarity with creatures of the night.

As nightfall approached, Mang Ambo, carrying the collective payment from the villagers, sought out Lucius to deliver the agreed-upon price. He found the sellsword outside the village, near the edge of the forest where the Kapre was rumored to dwell.

"Mister Lucius, the village has gathered your fee. We are ready to uphold our end of the bargain," Mang Ambo said, extending a heavy pouch toward him.

Lucius raised a hand, stopping him. "Hold on to it for now. The job isn't done yet. I'll only accept payment once I've fulfilled my part of the deal."

Mang Ambo paused, the pouch still in his hand. He looked at Lucius, reassessing the man before him. In that moment, he saw past the hardened exterior of the sellsword to the sliver of honor that governed his actions. "You have a code," Mang Ambo observed, a newfound respect in his voice.

"Something like that," Lucius replied, his gaze fixed on the darkening woods. "Tonight, I face the Kapre. Tell your people to stay indoors. No matter what they hear or see, they must not venture out. Their safety is paramount, and I'll handle the creature."

Mang Ambo nodded, understanding the gravity of the night ahead. He returned to the village, spreading Lucius's warning. As darkness enveloped Dalisay, a tense silence took hold, punctuated only by the occasional creak of bamboo or the distant call of nocturnal wildlife.

The villagers, following Lucius's stern instructions, remained within their homes, a collective breath held in anticipation. Despite the fear that gripped their hearts, there was a glimmer of hope that this night might mark the end of their nightmare.

Lucius, standing alone at the boundary between the village and the wilderness, readied himself for the confrontation. His figure, silhouetted against the moonlit sky, was a lone sentinel against the dark forces that preyed upon Dalisay. The stage was set for a battle not just of strength but of wills, a test of Lucius's resolve against the ancient and malevolent spirit of the Kapre.