Merchant Crab-Chapter 297: Chasing Answers

Balthazar sat on the edge of a rock by the shore of his pond, playing with a coin while a couple of his legs dangled idly over the water’s surface and he stared emptily at the bits of broken ice floating by. Despite the snow covering most of Boulder’s Point, the pond itself never actually froze, both due to the constant flow of fresh water fed by the mountain through the waterfall, and now also because of the bubbling geyser spawned from the Semla Volcano.

“Submerged geyser,” the crab said absentmindedly.

The sun was almost down, and the sky was a dark blue that matched the merchant’s mood.

Thunk and Hannabeth had gone back to Ardville for now, Sir Edmund had gone into the dungeon to introduce himself to Tom and the other skeletons, and Amber was meeting everyone else in the bazaar with Bouldy.

It was just Balthazar by his lonesome with his thoughts. Again.

He sighed.

While he couldn’t quite explain why he even cared, something about the core’s mystery was bothering him deeply.

“I should distract myself with something,” the crustacean said to himself after flipping the golden coin in the air with his pincer.

With a flick of his eyestalks, the merchant brought his system into view. There were three whole level-ups prompts waiting for him after all the adventures down in the mines, but Balthazar found himself lacking in terms of excitement for any of it.

The system had the base stat points from levels 36, 37, and 38 queued up for him to spend, but all the crab felt like doing was get it over with and go back to pond gazing. Usually, having so many upgrades at once would have been cause for enthusiasm, yet now, he couldn’t even be bothered pretending to ponder.

“Just put it all into health as always. What does it matter?” the depressed crustacean muttered with a wave of his pincer and a flick of his eyestalks.

Then came the attribute points. Adding to the unspent 3 he already had from the last level-up where he decided to save them, Balthazar now had 12 whole points to invest into any of his attributes of choice.

“And yet, I see no point in doing anything with them,” the merchant said with a sigh. “Once Charisma was maximized, what else is there left to do? These attributes are useless. They won’t help me get more coin, or eat more pastries, and clearly they won’t help me find a way inside that gate. Bah, pointless.”

Tired of even his own system, the crab simply pushed the prompt away and decided to leave the 12 points to be spent some other time, maybe when his mood was more agreeable. Or perhaps never. After all, did they even really make any difference? Or was it all part of the big charade that seemed to be the system and the world around him?

“And why do I even care so much now?!” Balthazar groaned. “I never used to care about any of this big world mystery, hero quest nonsense! It’s not me at all!”

Before closing his system screen, the crab gave his character sheet one last cursory glance, as if expecting a bout of inspiration to come from it.

[Name: Balthazar]

[Race: Crab]

[Level: 38]

[Class: Master Merchant]

[Health: 370/370]

[Stamina: 30/30]

[Mana: 50/50]

[Attributes:]

[Strength: 5]

[Endurance: 5]

[Agility: 5]

[Perception: 5]

[Intellect: 20]

[Charisma: 99]

With another sigh, the crab waved the system away, back to the corner of his vision, and set his sights on the rippling water again, idly playing with his coin over the rock’s surface.

“Someone’s feeling as blue as the hat I gave him,” a friendly voice said.

With her usual bright smile, Madeleine sat next to Balthazar, making him feel as if she was carrying the very warmth of her baking hearths around her.

The crab looked up and forced himself to smile at the baker.

“Hey, Madeleine,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” the young woman asked, still smiling warmly, but now with a hint of concern for her friend in her bright green eyes. “Something went wrong down in those mines?”

“Well, no. Not really. But it didn’t all go right either. It’s complicated.”

The baker adjusted the long, fluffy green scarf around her neck and across her shoulders before slipping an arm around the crab’s carapace, resting it atop the wool hat fitted to it.

“Why don’t you go on and tell me all about your adventure down there, for starters? I’ve been dying to hear all about it since you guys came back!”

Balthazar glanced up at his friend and exhaled with a less forced smile this time. Just like her baked goodies, or the hat she had given him, the girl always had a special knack for making the merchant feel better.

For the next hour, the crustacean regaled the baker with the tales of his and their friend’s deeds down in the Semla Mines, up until the moment where they found the Core Gate, and how they had to turn back without opening it.

“I just don’t get why I even care!” Balthazar said, throwing his arms up as the girl next to him listened intently. “I used to be content with just my little pond, not a care about anything or anyone else in the world. Now I’m finding myself so invested in stuff that… that I just don’t get!” He paused, looked down at the coin sitting on the rock, and exhaled loudly. “Sometimes I wonder if I wasn’t better off being just a lone crab, ignorant of the world around him.”

A moment of quietude fell between the two friends as they watched the moon’s reflection on the water.

After a while, Madeleine finally broke the silence.

“I know I’m just a baker who doesn’t know much about anything other than baking and maybe knitting, but I think you’re wrong.”

Balthazar looked up at her. “How so?”

“You were not better off before, Balthazar. You’re forgetting all the great things you’ve gained since those days of being a lonely crab stuck in a pond. And I don’t mean just the coins and the pies. Think of everyone you met. The friends you made. The family you found. What about all the new things you learned? The places you discovered! All the wonderful things you’ve experienced in the past year. Weren’t they wonderful and worth living?”

The crab stared emptily at the coin he was idly scratching with the tip of his pincer.

“I mean… yes, but there was also so much I would have been better off without. Like all this knowledge and caring about world stuff that is way out of my depth.”

“Look, Balthazar,” the girl said. “If you ask me, life is a lot like that coin you’ve got there.”

The merchant looked back and forth between the gold crown and the baker, looking confused.

“You mean… shiny?”

Madeleine smiled.

“That too, silly. But I meant it has two sides. One side has good things, the other has the less good things, but you can’t have a coin with just one side. With all the friends, the adventures, the connections, the expanding of your horizons, also comes the other side of the coin. The same things that bring us the most joy can also bring us the most hurt. If you keep your shell closed off from harm, you also deny yourself from ever feeling the joys of life, you know? You’ve got friends, a family, things that matter to you, and they bring happiness into your life. But life isn’t just the good, sadly, and the upkeep price is that sometimes you have to take the hurt, the worry, and the trouble that life throws at us. You care now, Balthazar. And that’s a good thing. Because on the other side of that coin, is your whole world that you’ve built and that is worth caring for.”

The crab gazed at the coin held in his pincer with a pensive expression.

“I… I think I get what you mean, Madeleine,” he finally said, shifting his gaze to the baker and smiling.

“Phew, that’s a relief,” the girl said with a playful smile. “I was so worried I had just spewed a bunch of nonsense at you. I’m really not used to being the philosophical type!”

Balthazar chuckled.

“I think you did better than fine. I think you were wrong about just one thing there.”

“Oh? What?”

“In your coin analogy,” the crab said, flipping the crown in the air again. “These shiny beauties are good on both sides!”

Still laughing, the two friends made their way back inside the bazaar, which was now empty again.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“I think I finally get what a scarf is,” the crab said, pointing at the wool garment around the girl’s neck. “It looks nice, and warm, too.”

“Oh,” said Madeleine. “You like it? I actually made it for Rye. It’s even warmer than his old one. I was hoping he’d come back before winter ended and I could give it to him.”

Balthazar noticed a shade of sadness settling on the baker’s face.

“There’s that other side of the coin, eh?”

The girl gazed up at the crab. “What?”

“You care,” the merchant said quietly. “So you’re worried about him.”

It was Madeleine’s turn to sigh.

“Yes. It’s been so long since he left. I wonder where he is, and if he’s alright.”

And now it was Balthazar’s turn to place a comforting pincer on his friend’s back—because he wasn’t quite tall enough to reach her shoulders properly.

“He’s an adventurer. Wandering around the world is kind of their thing.”

The baker tried to force a smile.

“I know, but I miss him, and just wish I could get some news, you know? I sent a letter to him through Rob weeks ago, but still haven’t heard anything back. It’s been so cold lately, what if the weather is even worse where he is? I should have sent this scarf with the letter!”

“Shh, it’s alright, calm down, Madeleine,” Balthazar said, trying to sound comforting while looking around for some inspiration. “Hey, look at this!”

The merchant skittered to a nearby table and picked up a pearlescent conch from it.

“What is that?” asked the girl.

“A Conch of Distant Calling,” replied the crab. “We could ask it about the weather where Rye is.”

“And it works?” Madeleine asked, cocking an eyebrow at the empty shell being presented to her.

Balthazar glared at the conch.

“Uhh… I’m not really sure?” he said. “It won't hurt to try, though, right?”

The baker shrugged and carefully took the conch from the crab’s claws.

“What’s the weather like where Rye is?” she whispered into the opening.

They both stared at the conch for a quiet moment, until a distant and toneless voice came from inside the shell.

“Your question is very important to us. Please hold.”

“Oh, right, I forgot that’s all this thing seems to do,” Balthazar said with a roll of his eyestalks.

A timid chuckle escaped Madeleine’s lips.

“It’s alright,” she said, setting the conch back down on the table. “It was still a little amusing. Thank you for trying to cheer me up, Balthazar.”

“Oh, you know what would work wonders for cheering us up?” the suddenly more enthusiastic crab said.

The baker tilted her head and smiled at him.

“Let me guess. Pie?”

“You know it!”

“Haha. Come on, let’s go to the kitchen. I left an apple pie cooling on the counter before I came to find you. We can share it while I tell you more about my plans for this year’s Festus.”

The crab and the baker exited the bazaar toward the girl’s baking house, leaving the pearlescent shell sitting alone on its table.

After a minute, a deep and distant voice echoed from inside the Conch of Distant Calling.

“A terrible storm forms over his path.”

***

A lone archer climbed the winding path toward the cliffs, his torn green scarf drawn tight over his neck and mouth against the merciless winds that ruled those heights.

For the past two hours, the adventurer had experienced a blizzard, hail, and now intense rain with a thunderstorm. That entire time, he had not seen a single soul anywhere. It was just him and an endless road that felt longer with each step.

Dread surrounded him from every direction. While he could not see anyone or anything, Rye knew there were dangers out there, somewhere in that vast barren tundra leading to the cliffs of the northern shore.

And that he stood no chance whatsoever against any of them.

The young man had exhausted every little trick he had to get himself that far up north where no adventurer at his level should be while trying to avoid any fights. Pure stealth, using his scout and tracking skills in reverse to hide himself from predators, and even the invisibility potions he had brought were now gone.

But he could not turn back now. He knew Ren was close. He had to be.

After weeks chasing his whereabouts and always turning up a dozen steps behind, the archer had finally caught up with the mysterious adventurer who apparently had a vendetta against Balthazar and anyone associated with him.

Two days earlier, Rye had arrived at a small town in the middle of the mountains, the very last settlement before the endless wastes surrounding the infamous Forbidden City at the tip of the continent.

There he learned that a champion of incredible power had passed through the town on his way north. It was Ren, and the archer wasted no time following the same path the locals had given him.

But unlike the other adventurer, Rye knew he was in over his head. Anything that far north would have a level high enough to destroy him in a couple of seconds.

It was either courage, insanity, or perhaps a mix of both that kept the young man pushing forward in such a hostile and deadly environment.

Or perhaps something else. Every time his steps faltered against the brutal winds and torrential downpour, Rye remembered everything that really kept him going.

Closing his eyes, the archer pictured Madeleine’s beautiful and warm face, and how much that thought brought him comfort even so far up in no man’s land.

Then he remembered all his friends from the pond. They were counting on him. If Ren was a threat to them, he could not just stand by doing nothing.

Rye knew he would likely not win in a fight against the champion, given what he had learned about the guy and his skills already. So all the young man could hope to try once he found the other adventurer was to take a page from Balthazar’s book and do like him—talk.

As another thunder cracked from the sky, the archer’s eyes snapped open, dispelling the memory of Madeleine away and bringing back the cold and wet reality assaulting his face.

Rye squinted, peering into the distance. Even with his enhanced Perception, it was almost impossible for him to make out much of anything through the lashing rain and the mist left by it.

“No way…” he whispered from behind the frayed wool of his beloved scarf.

Up ahead, in the middle of the beaten path, almost at the edge of a cliff, he could just barely make out a man’s figure.

It had to be Ren.

The archer quickened his step, hurrying to catch up with the champion before he could disappear in the storm again.

And that was when he realized it. That dark shape of a man up the road was not moving toward the cliff.

He was coming toward Rye.

Lightning flashed from the clouds, filling the fields with blinding white for a split second. In the time it took the archer to blink, he heard the sound of a heavy impact in front of him and found a spear lodged into the ground between his feet.

“Who are you?” the champion’s thundering voice demanded, somehow cutting through the deafening storm around them. “Why have you been following me?”

Rye felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. That spear strike he had not even perceived coming had been a warning, and one he knew would not repeat itself.

“My name is Rye, and I’m—” the young man started, shouting as loud as he could over the sound of the beating rain, but the other adventurer cut him off before he could finish.

“A level 35 archer,” said Ren, holding what appeared to be a rectangular pocket mirror in his hand. “What are you doing out here? Are you lost, or have a death wish? Go back south, before you hurt yourself.”

Still shaken, Rye eyed the champion in heavy metal armor, with a bulky dark cloak draped over most of his body. He had not come this far to turn back now.

“I’m not lost,” he said. “I have been searching for you.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed on the archer. “Why?”

“A few months ago,” Rye started, taking a tentative step around the champion’s weapon, “you visited a pond. You were looking for my friend, Balthazar.”

Another white flash split the dark clouds above, and before the young man could draw his next breath, Ren’s intimidating figure had somehow already arrived two steps in front of him, grabbed his spear, and had it pointed directly at him.

“Are you one of his fanatics?!” the visibly enraged champion asked, the tip of his weapon glinting under the slick rain falling on it. “You’re way too weak to be one of his allies, so he certainly did not send you after me himself. Are you here to spy on me?”

With the shock, Rye fell back, falling on the ground and kicking himself away from the sharp blade pointed at him.

“I’m not looking to fight you!” the archer pleaded, trying to get back on his feet.

“Trust me, you won’t get a chance to,” spat the other adventurer. “Now tell me why Balthazar sent you!”

Panic and adrenaline flooded every fiber of Rye’s body. That guy was insane, and coming after him in hopes to talk things out had been a huge mistake.

The archer drew his greatbow and nocked one of his two remaining greatarrows.

“Stay away!” the young man in green shouted, pointing his weapon at the champion.

He had no illusions about his chances against such a strong opponent, but if it could at the very least let him escape with his life, Rye was willing to use his greatest trump card to make it out of there and back to Madeleine.

“Fine! Your corpse will serve as a message to your master Balthazar then!” exclaimed Ren, before exploding forward, the very rain drops splitting apart to make way for his charge.

Pulling on everything he had, using every bit of perception in him, and activating all of his arching skills, including True Shot, which ensured his next arrow would be guaranteed to reach the targeted spot, Rye let the Dragonslayer’s Greatarrow loose from the string.

Like a cannon shot blasting the wind away into a vacuum behind it, the huge projectile meant to down dragons went straight toward the champion’s chest.

Out of thin air, Ren produced a huge tower shield made of black metal around his left arm and held it in front of the arrow’s path while pushing his weapon forward to Rye’s chest with the other.

The young archer watched on in despair, his enhanced perception strong enough to let him see the events about to unfold, but not strong enough to allow him a quicker reaction.

His arrow would be blocked, while the dark tip of the champion’s blade was going to skewer him, and all the young man could think was how much he regretted not seeing Madeleine’s face one last time.

As the Dragonslayer’s Greatarrow connected with the champion’s shield, Ren’s eyes went wide.

Like a knife through paper, the arrow pierced the thick metal, throwing the heavily armored man off-balance as he bent back to bring his chest away from the projectile’s path.

The greatarrow stopped halfway through the tower shield, its shaft lodged into it while the metal tip remained a hair away from punching a hole into Ren’s chest.

Rye had not been quite as lucky.

Despite the last moment dodge Ren had been forced to make, his spear thrust had only been slightly thrown off target, resulting in a glancing blow to the archer’s barely armored torso.

A long, horizontal gash across Rye’s chest was quickly turning the young man’s clothes red as he stared down at himself in horror and shock.

But not as much shock as the one on Ren’s face as his eyes went from the arrow that broke through his shield and to the greatbow in the archer’s hands.

The champion’s eyes widened as he saw the carved marking on the body of the bow—a drawing of a dove.

“That bow…” the dark-clad man muttered. “Where did you get that bow?!”

“W-what?” mumbled Rye, his every sense spinning from the shock.

“Answer me! Who gave you this weapon?!”

Dazed and confused, the archer stuttered. “A… a man. A man in black, and covered in—”

“Bandages,” the champion finished, gaze turning empty.

With a quick step back, Ren drew his weapon away and spun around, as if looking for an incoming attacker.

“You were just a distraction, weren’t you?!” barked the higher level adventurer. “Is he here?! Has he come to finish me? You will not catch me unprepared like last time, Stranger!”

Looking deranged and paranoid, the adventurer continued pointing his spear everywhere like someone was about to strike him, while Rye fell back on the floor, clutching his bleeding chest.

By the time the archer lifted his gaze from the gash again, he realized the mad champion had simply vanished, gone into the storm without a trace.

It did not matter to Rye at that moment. He needed to stop his rapidly dwindling health points.

With trembling, bloody hands, he reached into his satchel for a health potion and downed its contents in one go.

Something was wrong.

“Why… why is it not working?!” Rye muttered, his strength fading fast.

With vision going blurry, the young adventurer saw a system notification glowing in front of him.

[Cursed Wound - Critical]

“No…” he whispered. “Madeleine… everyone else… I have to warn them…”

Stumbling, Rye turned away, facing south, his fading thoughts set on a place a whole continent away—the pond.