Merchant crab a litrpg a.., p.74
Merchant Crab: A LitRPG Adventure, page 74
“Well, hopefully this will be enough.”
As much as Balthazar was averse to spending money, he knew his trip would come with costs, and as hard to admit as it was for such a proud crab, he had absolutely no experience traveling, so all he could hope for was that his small fortune wouldn’t run out before he could get his friends back.
“I wonder if I can spend the night at an inn for free since I come with my own built-in roof…”
A croaked shout pulled the crab from his pondering. “Hey, Balthazar, Tristan’s back from town!”
He stood up and tied his magical coin purse back to the side of his shell before skittering back up to the bazaar. He had asked his now-official business associate to purchase some specific wares from town that he would need for his trip and was eager to see if Tristan had gotten everything.
“Good morning, partner!” the cheerful man greeted.
Next to him, on the counter, was a very large backpack that looked already half full.
“Hey Tristan,” Balthazar said, his gaze fixed on the peculiar bag. “That’s an interesting backpack you’ve got there.”
“You think so?” Tristan said with a sly smile. “I know you only asked for a bag you could take some things in and that wouldn’t encumber your… unique body shape, but Henrietta and I were talking last night, and we both agreed you deserved something a little better.”
The crab raised his eyestalks with curiosity.
“You remember my little Bag of Holding?” the toad said, hopping up onto the counter’s surface, next to the strange backpack. “You know, the green one I got from Antoine to carry my wares when he had me compete with your business, and… well, I’m sure you know the one.”
“Yes, I remember,” the curious crustacean confirmed.
“Well,” Tristan continued, “we thought it would be very useful for you to have something like that to carry your stuff during your trip.”
“But since my bag wouldn’t really quite fit your needs,” Henrietta carried on, “Tristan took it up to town and had an artisan friend of his rework it into a larger backpack, specifically suited for a giant crab to wear on his shell. Don’t worry, we both agreed you’d prefer it dyed a different color too!”
Balthazar looked over the bag with surprise in his face. It was a wide backpack, clearly made to fit over his large shell, with straps that could reach over his pincers and fit under his arms. The body of the bag was made up of several patches of leather dyed gray, nearly matching his own chitin, and despite its irregular patchwork design, he found it to look simply… perfect.
“Guys…” the crab said hesitantly. “You didn’t have to. This must have been pretty expensive.”
“Oh shush it, you!” Henrietta told him, a large smile plastered across her wide face. “For once, try not to think about money. This is what friends do for each other, if you didn’t know.”
“Yes,” said Tristan. “Besides, I still know some people and carry some favor here and there. It was no big deal.” He gave the crab a playful nudge and a wink. “I already put all the other things you wanted from town in there. It doesn’t have infinite space, but you should still be able to carry plenty of stuff in there!”
“Speaking of which,” said the toad. “We figured that going traveling will not stop you from being a trader and you will want to make deals out there, so we already told Druma to sort out some items from the bazaar’s stock for you to take along.”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” Balthazar awkwardly said. “You guys really thought of everything.”
“That’s part of our job now!” Henrietta said before lifting her gaze behind the crab. “How about you just say thank you and then go talk to your visitor there? I’m sure you two have a lot to discuss.”
Balthazar turned around to see who she was talking about.
A man’s figure was tentatively stepping into the bazaar through the front doorway. Donning a long green traveling cloak, the young man pulled its hood down to reveal a head of hay-colored hair tightly tied into a short ponytail and a familiar face that looked slightly more weathered and rough than the crab remembered, in part because of the grown-out facial hair covering it.
Rye looked at the group across the bazaar and greeted them in a quiet tone. “Hey.”
“Thanks, guys,” Balthazar said to his two partners without turning his gaze from the young archer. “I’ll be right back.”
The crab crossed the distance separating them slowly, the walk feeling like a weight growing heavier over his shell.
Rye and him had not spoken since the dragon had taken Madeleine—since the other adventurers had carried him to town along with the other wounded. Balthazar did not know what to expect from the young man or where they stood after that day.
“Hey, Rye,” the crab sheepishly said.
“I heard some guys from the guild threw you a big party here last night,” the archer said. “I was out of town. Was on my way back this morning, and some adventurers I encountered on the road told me.”
“Ah, yes, they said they wanted to give me a proper send-off before I left, but I’m pretty sure they just wanted an excuse to drink and be loud.”
“Before you left?” Rye repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You’re going somewhere?”
“Oh,” the awkward crustacean said. “I guess you wouldn’t know it, of course. I’m going on a trip.”
“You? On a trip? As in, outside of your pond?” said the increasingly incredulous adventurer. “Where to?”
“I… I’m not entirely sure yet. The destination isn’t clear yet, only the objective.”
“And what would that be?”
“I need to find an old wizard, Tweedus. He’s my only lead on how I could bring Bouldy back to life.”
“Oh…” the archer quietly said.
“I also made a promise to Henrietta that I would find that damnable witch, Velvet, and find a way to reverse her curse. And I… I…”
The crab’s eyes drifted toward the floor, and the words stumbled in his mouth for a moment.
“I’m going to look for the dragon’s lair and get Madeleine back,” Balthazar finally said without looking at Rye. “I know it was my fault. Both because it was my actions that led the dragon here and because I stood like a useless sack of shells doing nothing when it took her. I know you must have no reason to put any faith in a stupid crab doing this, and maybe I am stupid for thinking I can, but I promise you I will do everything in my power to find her.”
The crab’s eyestalks glanced up at the young man as he stood silent for a painfully long moment.
“You…” Rye started hesitantly. “You think I blame you for Madeleine?”
“You… don’t?”
“No!”
“Oh, thank goodness, that’s a relief!”
The archer exhaled quickly and sharply, as if he had been holding his breath since the moment he had arrived.
“I thought you blamed me, Balthazar.”
“What?!” exclaimed the crab. “Why?”
“Because it was my fault,” said the young man with a sorrowful expression. “I’m supposed to be an adventurer, a fighter, the one with the bow and who saves the day. It was my job to protect her, and I… I failed. I was completely useless. I watched that dragon take her away while being powerless to do anything about it. I let her down, I let you down… I let myself down.”
This time it was the human’s turn to stare at the floorboards as if they were the only ones not judging him.
“Rye,” Balthazar said, “you couldn’t have done anything. You were wounded, your bow was broken, and if a hundred adventurers out there could not stop a dragon of that level, what could you have done?”
Rye glanced up at Balthazar.
“Then why do you blame yourself? It’s not like you could have done much either.”
“That’s different, damn it!” the crab exclaimed, throwing his pincers up in frustration.
Rye let out a chuckle while looking at Balthazar from the corner of his eye, and soon after, the crab joined him as they both laughed at each other’s misfortunes.
“You know,” Rye said, “I was also planning to go hunt for that dragon. I went out there to gain some levels, practice, and try to get my head back on straight before starting my journey.”
“That explains the new bow,” Balthazar remarked, looking up at the weapon on the young man’s back.
It was a longbow, much larger than his old one or even the ones hunters would usually carry when passing by from or to the Dark Forest, one of its tips nearly touching the ground and the other going way past Rye’s head. Tightly strapped to his back was also a quiver with arrows that seemed much thicker than what was usual to see used by archer adventurers.
“Ah, yes,” the crab’s friend said. “I needed a new one after the other one snapped, and well, I figured I’d need something with a bigger punch.”
The crab nodded, and another short moment of awkward silence settled between them until the human broke it.
“If you’re going out there looking for the dragon, and so am I, do you think we should… travel together?”
“Really?” Balthazar asked in surprise. “I mean, I’m no adventurer, or really much of a fighter. Aren’t you worried I’d slow you down?”
“Don’t be silly, of course not,” Rye said. “To be completely honest, I’m the one worried about going on this journey alone. For how long I’ve been traveling these lands and exploring, I’ve never really taken on many dangers or done anything this risky, so I’d really feel better if I didn’t have to go at it alone. I know, so much for being an adventurer, right?”
“Heh, don’t sell yourself short. I’ve known plenty of them, and I can safely say you’re not half bad for an adventurer.”
“Uhh… thanks, I think?” said Rye with a slightly uncertain frown.
“But you’re right,” continued the crab. “There is strength in numbers, and the higher the number, the better. Whether it’s coins or how many of us go to rescue Madeleine. We’re in!”
“We?” asked the archer.
“Druma and Blue are coming too. I was going to try and dissuade them, but I’ve learned not to take battles I have no hope of winning.”
Rye laughed. “Smart. Then it’s settled. A human, a crab, a goblin, and a drake setting out on a dragon hunt. I like our odds already.”
“Say, Rye,” said Balthazar, taking care to measure his words carefully. “I know you and other adventurers don’t really like to talk about… these things, but I had a question for you.”
“What is it?” asked the intrigued young man.
“When you first arrived… well, here, to these lands, do you remember where you were exactly?”
“You mean Star Beach?” said Rye. “Everyone knows that’s where all adventurers first arrive.”
“Oh,” said the crab, surprised at how easy it was to get his answer. “And you think you could show me where that place is?”
“Sure, it’s not hard to reach. It’s right by the shore to the west. Why do you want to go there, though?”
“I have some… business to take care of,” Balthazar said hesitantly. “Do you know anything about scrolls? Scrolls involved in any kind of… creation?”
The young adventurer visually recoiled at the mention, and it was as if something painful tugged at the back of his mind.
“I’m… I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” he said with discomfort.
“Right, never mind then,” the crab quickly said. “Forget I asked.”
Unfortunately, it would seem the only way Balthazar would get any answers about the world’s system would be through Ruby. He wondered how she seemed unaffected by whatever seemed to block every other adventurer when it came to touching certain sensitive subjects about how they all got there, when a voice called from the other side of the bazaar.
“Boss, boss! Druma finish packing stuff! Druma ready to go if boss is!”
The small goblin assistant came running toward them, his oversized wizard hat bobbing up and down on his head and a tiny improvised backpack strapped to his torso. Closely behind came Blue, no hat or backpack, but fully recovered wings and shiny scales, her vivid golden eyes looking as healthy and determined as ever.
“Here you go, buddy,” Tristan said, approaching with the Backpack of Holding in his hands and Henrietta hopping alongside him. “We finished packing it for you.”
“Well, I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Balthazar said with a deep breath as he strapped the backpack to his shell, surprised by how light it was. “What about you, Rye?”
“There’s no better time than now, I guess,” he responded. “Although I still need to make a quick stop in town before leaving, if you don’t mind?”
“Sure. Ardville sounds like a good first place to visit, and it’s about time I finally got to know the place.”
Balthazar turned to face Tristan and Henrietta.
“I’d say take good care of my pond while I’m gone, but…” He looked over the place one last time, and a bittersweet smile ran through his face briefly. “Considering the state it got to on my watch, I think I’ve learned enough to know it will be in good hands. Good luck.”
“Good luck to you too, partner,” said Tristan with a pump of his fist. “Give that dragon hell!”
“Be careful out there,” Henrietta said with a frank smile. “And if you find that witch, give her some hell for me, too!”
The crab nodded and turned to his goblin assistant and his young blue drake.
“You guys ready?”
Blue gave him a single determined nod, while Druma gave several vigorous ones that nearly made his hat fall off his head.
Balthazar stepped out of the doorway and into the timid sunlight that was shining down on his little pond, with Rye already waiting for him on the dirt path.
They gave each other an affirmative nod, and the crustacean looked at the road in front of him with excitement building up in the pit of his stomach, as well as a fair share of hunger for pastries.
“Let’s find ourselves a baker!”
And so the traveling merchant crab set off with his friends, ready to take on many adventures, the unknown world, and all the surprises that waited for them.
EPILOGUE
Far away from the crab’s pond, somewhere inside Ardville’s walls, was an old building. Under that building was a dark and damp dungeon with prison cells meant to hold the town’s worst criminals.
Like Early Earl, a serial cow-tipper from a farm west of the town gates. Doing time for having left twenty-two cows flipped on their backs in one night, as well as rolling seven goats down a nearby hill right before the crack of dawn.
Or Ms. Marjorie, who was sentenced to multiple counts of “assault with a deadly chicken” after a heated argument at the annual cheese festival.
In a cell off by a corner resided Ron, who was in for the ninth time after being caught wearing mismatched socks yet again. Nobody knew much about him, as the guards and every other prisoner avoided him out of fear.
But out of all the criminals in that dreadful catacomb, one stood out the most from the rest.
Despite the dirty old rags he wore now and the greasy hair sticking to his unwashed forehead, the fancy airs and pompous pose still stuck to him like the opulent perfumes he used to douse himself with. But above all else, one specific feature set him apart from the common rabble filling those filthy halls: his meticulously groomed pencil mustache.
The sign of a man with fine tastes and access to an expensive barber, Antoine had always taken great care of his trademark facial hair. The very worst consequence of finding himself imprisoned now was the idea that his precious mustache would soon go into disarray, untrimmed and uncombed as it was. He simply could not stand it.
Seething ever since he was thrown into that cell, with not even a proper goose feather pillow to rest his delicate neck on, all the former guildmaster could think was how he would get out of there.
Legal recourse was out. It seemed no attorney was willing to take on a losing case for such an unpopular town figure for fear of becoming shunned themselves.
Bribery was unlikely. His known possessions had all been seized. The ones that weren’t known were too out of his reach at the moment, and his promises of riches would carry little weight with anyone with the power to get him out.
While using the other prisoners to incite a riot and escape amidst the chaos also occurred to him as a potential plan, Antoine quickly abandoned that idea after taking one look at Ron over in the corner cell. The risk of setting loose such a menace was too much even for him.
“Curse you, crab. Curse you to hell!” the disgraced merchant muttered, pacing back and forth as he chewed on his nails, an old habit he hadn’t indulged in since his youth days, when he was a penniless nobody.
To watch all his work, all his efforts, the empire he had built through careful lies and meticulous betrayal come crashing down because of an unimportant talking animal was simply… maddening.
What right did a stupid crab have to ruin his plans? Who did he think he was to put a stop to his inevitable takeover of Ardville? All would have kept going smoothly if only the damnable crustacean hadn’t appeared out of nowhere and crashed into his life to throw into disarray his carefully created balance.
Where did the odd creature come from anyway?
It mattered little now. What was important was how Antoine would get out of there so that he could learn from his past mistakes and do the one thing that mattered most: exact revenge on everyone who righted his wrongs.
The damnable crab, his disgusting pets, the foolish adventurers who chose to side with him, and especially all those cowards from town who turned on their prestigious guildmaster.
Whether it was the silly baker from the market or the turncoat toad innkeeper, all the way up to the mayor and his irksome advisor Abernathy, without forgetting that bumbling idiot Tristan, they would all pay for his humiliation.
He hadn’t climbed—over others—and made so many sacrifices—on others—to end up locked in a cell for the rest of his life like that. He deserved better. He was entitled to better.
