Merchant Crab

No whisper or word dared escape anyone’s lips in the tense stillness that filled the dragon’s lair after Balthazar’s challenge.

The crimson beast eyed the merchant, her immense copper pupils narrowing on the resolute crab with a fierceness that could nearly cut through his chitin.

“You wish to challenge me?” Beatrix said in a calm and drawn out tone that filled the air between them with blazing heat.

Balthazar stared the dragon right back, his eyestalks firm and unwavering, and with as much resolve as he could gather, he replied, “That’s what I said.”

Dragons had not been sighted for several generations, but before that, they had existed for a long time. Since the first ages or even earlier. Before there were adventurers or perhaps even human civilizations.

Or at least that was what Balthazar had read in the books he gathered on draconic subjects after Madeleine was taken.

Adventurers always had the strange habit of looting all manner of books and tomes from whatever corner of the continent they had been exploring, despite seemingly never once bothering to read any of them.

The crab had since early on into his merchant career gained the habit of reading through whatever literary materials he could get his pincers on during the more dead hours of the day.

It had quickly become a pleasant activity for him. Both because it allowed practicing his new reading skills while learning more about the world around him, and because it was one of very few cases where he could use an item and still sell it at full price after.

Balthazar learned much about draconic creatures. From the small drakes and wyverns, to the enormous hydras and dragons.

Most humans remembered them mostly as the brutal beasts that brought fire and destruction to their towns and villages in the generations leading to their extinction.

What really brought upon the disappearance of dragons was a source of great debate among scholars. Some claimed it was the quick spreading and development of human civilization and the wars that followed. Others insisted humanity could never have fully defeated dragons, and that the only thing that could have brought their extinction was their own nature of pride and conflict, even among their kind.

But nobody really remembered that beneath their gigantic forms, their thick scales, and all the fire and brawn, dragons were also creatures of great intellect.

Wizards of old would go to them for wisdom and to learn from their ancient knowledge. Scholars would study for a lifetime just for the chance to one day hold court with one of the creatures. And even among themselves, dragons would often engage in heated debates that could span days or even weeks.

For dragonkind, no form of combat was as highly revered as the art of verbal confrontation, a clash of philosophies and ideologies to determine who was right through their might.

To engage one another in an exchange of arguments and to pitch your mind and intellect against the other until the strongest willpower emerged victorious was a definitive triumph—or an ultimate defeat.

No sword or claw. No spells or blasts of fire. No scales, armor, or even shells.

Balthazar understood the real way to defeat a dragon was through cleverness, and by striking at their weak spot—their pride.

After all, the giant crab was a lot like them, even if not in physical appearance.

“I could crush you with one finger,” Beatrix said. “I could devour you in one bite. Turn you into ash with one breath. I could end you right here and now in a thousand different ways. What makes you think yourself worthy of challenging me, crab?”

Balthazar did his best to hold himself together. He knew he was gambling it all on his intuition being right.

“It’s true, you could,” said the small gray dot beneath the red giant. “But there would be no pride or honor in that. And then it would be known to the world that Beatrix LaFlamme was too scared to face a lowly crab in a battle of wits.”

The dragon’s eyes narrowed into thin, terrifying slits as her nostrils flared with a puff of black smoke. In an instant, the entire chamber felt several degrees hotter than before.

“You dare question my honor and intellect, crustacean?” the beast said with a rumbling snarl that made Balthazar’s legs tremble. “To even suggest casting such a blight upon my name is an affront beyond measure and I should vacate your shell of your innards for it.”

The merchant steeled his resolve and stilled his breath.

“You could do that. And you will be well within your right to do so. After you defeat me in a battle of wills and wits, Beatrix.”

Her terribleness stared the crab down for a moment, studying him with a scorching gaze.

“Do you refuse?” the crab asked with a pinch of defiance.

With an unnerving grin that exposed her sharp fangs, the dragon replied, “I accept your challenge.”

Balthazar exhaled quietly, feeling equal parts relieved and terrified.

Time to put my gold where my mouth is.

***

As per draconic tradition, a brief preparation period was to take place before engaging in a verbal clash.

Over by her hoard, Beatrix LaFlamme calmly sipped lemon and honey tea from a cup the size of a tub in between voice exercises that shook rocks loose from the cavern’s walls.

Over by the small kitchen area, Balthazar rummaged through his backpack while his friends attempted to plead with him.

“Are you nuts, Balthazar?!” exclaimed Rye.

“This has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Madeleine said. “And that’s saying something, considering the things I’ve seen you do since we met!”

“Thanks for the confidence, guys,” the sarcastic crustacean grumbled while digging deeper into his bag. “Just… let me do this my way. It’s the only shot we’ve got.”

“At least let me sneak away and try to land a shot while you’re distracting her,” said the archer.

“Rye!” the baker exclaimed with a frown.

“You’re the one who is nuts if you think your level 27 butt is ever going to land a mortal blow on that level 75 salamander,” said the merchant. “Even Bouldy only managed to knock her out briefly back at the pond, and that was because we got extremely lucky with that sneak attack.”

“Friend?” said the golem.

“I want you to stay back here, big guy,” Balthazar said. “Protect them all, and more importantly, make sure they don’t do anything stupid. Like interfering with the battle.”

“Boss don’t want friends to help?” asked the caped goblin, looking worried.

“Not on this, buddy. I need to do it on my own. Because dragon customs dictate that you and your arguments should stand on their own without help or interference from others, otherwise you forfeit your honor. And because I’m the only one who can win this fight.”

Removing both claws from his pack, the crab revealed an ingot of solid gold within his grasp. The same one he had found in the golemancer’s halls.

“I’ve been looking forward to this…”

His friends watched in awed silence as Balthazar exhaled sharply and pressed his pincers on the ingot, activating his Imbuing skill.

A bright golden flash bathed the chamber for a moment, dwarfing even the shine of the dragon’s hoard, as a slick layer of liquid metal quickly enveloped the crab’s body, until his entire shell had been covered in it.

The shiny finish hardened in an instant, leaving behind a perfect and statuesque crustacean idol in all of its golden glory.

“Woooah… Boss is gold again!” the mesmerized goblin assistant muttered.

Balthazar looked around at his golden self and smiled.

“Now we’re talking!”

[Imbuing - Gold Ingot]

[Duration: 20 minutes]

[Effect: Double the efficiency of all your Charisma traits and skills.]

He turned to his friends, glowing gloriously.

“I’m going to beat that dragon at my own game, and then you are going to walk out of here as a free woman, Madeleine. That’s a promise.”

The girl nodded at the crab, her eyes glistening as she smiled. “I… I believe in you, Balthazar. Thank you.”

Rye sighed and placed a hand on the golden carapace. “I don’t know why, but suddenly I feel a lot more confident about this. Go do your thing, Balthazar. We will be here, rooting for you.”

The gilded merchant nodded confidently at his companions, who all nodded back in approval.

With a confident stride and unbound gleaming, Balthazar walked back to the center of the lair, his arms stretched open and his eyestalks firmly pointed upward.

“Let’s do this!” he boldly exclaimed.

The confidence of a golden buff coursing through his chitin made him feel like a million crowns and like he could take on anything. Even a dragon.

Memories of the events at the pond and what led to them flashed in front of him.

Confidence can quickly lead to arrogance, which leads to your downfall. Temper yourself, Balthazar.

The crab wasn’t entirely sure who that wiser self whispering into his mind was, but perhaps everything he had gone through in his travels hadn’t all been just strange roadside encounters and mango chasing.

Maybe there had been positive things from doing what Rye had suggested when they first met by his pond—going out there and expanding his horizons.

“Very well,” the red dragon said, setting her teacup aside and leaning forward to display her full, imposing size. “As per tradition, we shall introduce ourselves. My name is Beatrix LaFlamme. State your name, intruder.”

With newly found stillness in his heart, the merchant stood tall and proud before his adversary.

“The name’s Balthazar. Just Balthazar.”

Her eyes fixed themselves on his tiny, black and beady eyestalks.

“I look forward to adding your shiny carapace to my hoard once I defeat you,” the winged creature said with a smirk.

“We will see about that,” the merchant replied with confidence.

The two opponents locked sights on each other, the air between them filling with crackling electricity that threatened to send sparks flying at any moment.

Beatrix’s intense glower was unwavering and unblinking.

The crab’s stalk-eyed stare was also unblinking—mainly on account of him not having eyelids.

Coming from somewhere to the side, Balthazar watched a tumbleweed slowly roll by through the empty space between them and disappear into a distant dark corner of the lair.

Where did that come from? There isn’t even a breeze in here!

“As the challenger, you shall go first.” The dragon paused before her voice climbed several octaves. “State your case, Balthazar!”

To the crab’s surprise, a new line appeared in his system.

[You have engaged in a Battle of Wits!]

Huh… I should have probably prepared something for this, shouldn’t I?

“I…” He paused before clearing his throat and continuing in a louder and more clear tone. “I believe you should free Madeleine so that she may return home with us.”

Beatrix laughed. A terrible and boastful laughter that echoed against the walls of the lair, making coins and small gems fall off the piles of treasure surrounding her.

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“The girl has incurred a debt and she has agreed to pay it through her labor,” the dragon said. “Her word was given, and as I’m sure you know, given your apparent knowledge of dragon customs, that is an oath which cannot be broken without consequences.”

Balthazar nodded.

“That is true. But you could still release her from that oath at any time if you so wished.”

Once again, the dragon laughed. “And why should I ever do such a thing?”

The crab exhaled slowly. Balthazar did not know if there was something genuinely mystical about engaging in a verbal debate with a dragon, or if it was merely the pressure of the stakes involved, but he could feel a profound weight pressing on his very soul.

“When I entered this chamber,” the crab started, “I did not find an enslaved girl in shackles, forced to toil for a tyrant. I found a baker happily preparing another delicacy for her awaiting host to enjoy. Madeleine is not your prisoner. She did to you the same she did to me once we first met. She effortlessly charmed her way into your scaly heart through her sweet nature the same way she did with my hard shell. Because that’s who Madeleine is. You are not her captor. You are her friend. That’s why you don’t want her to leave. You would miss her.”

Beatrix’s eyes widened slowly as she stared down at the crab and a cutting silence filled the cavern.

“Hmm,” the dragon said with a slight smirk. “Not entirely bad. But you have misplayed your cards already, crab. Because, by your own conclusion, I have all the more reason to not want Madeleine to leave my lair.”

Balthazar smiled knowingly.

“So you do see her as a friend you would miss.”

The smirk disappeared from the winged creature’s face in a flash, and a new line appeared in Balthazar’s eyes.

[Critical strike! Your buff durations have been extended by 5 minutes.]

Below, he found that his golden imbuement had received extra time.

Feeling the impetus of gaining the upper hand, the merchant pressed on before he would risk losing it.

“You have grown fond of her. We all did. She has a genuinely kind heart. The fact that she grew to like you despite how you took her away, tells me she must have seen something good in your heart as well. I trust that girl enough to believe her instincts on that. So, if I am right that she is right, then I’m sure you care about her too, and that you want what’s best for our baker as much as we do.”

The crab did not dare to look back at his friends, lest he lose his focus, but he could feel their gazes on the back of his shell, almost as intensely as the dragon’s, peering into his very soul.

“And?” Beatrix growled.

“Then you must know that it would be best for her if you let her go free,” Balthazar continued. “Staying locked away in a cave for the rest of her life is no way to live. She should be back home, with her things, her friends, enjoying life where she is happy.”

The dragon stared emptily at the floor for a moment, as if something had suddenly taken her by surprise.

[Critical strike! Your buff durations have been extended by 5 minutes.]

Taking a small step forward, the crab added, “How would you feel if someone clipped your wings and kept you from ever flying freely again?”

Beatrix nodded slowly and a tinge of brief hope spiked inside Balthazar, but it was short-lived.

“You leverage your arguments better than I would have expected, crustacean. But you forget yourself. I am a dragon, a creature of immense might. There is no place the girl would be safer than next to me. You make claims about her freedom and happiness, but what of her safety? Who would protect her from danger? You? A lowly pond creature? Or perhaps you mean that boy over there, with his puny arrows? Or maybe your band of misfits you call your companions? Who ensures the baker is not taken by whatever creature decides to claim her in the same way that I did?” The dragon glared at Balthazar. “With me by her side, no one would ever dare.”

The merchant felt as if a blow had struck him directly in the brain, skipping his natural armor.

“Not just me,” he said after a moment to regain his composure. “Or Rye. Or even my party. We all will always look after her, together. Everyone here, and her many other friends back home. Because that’s what friends do, they look after each other. And last I checked, this band of misfits is the same one that managed to rock your chin a few months back and that now managed to find your secret lair and walk right into it. Underestimate us at your own peril, dragon.”

The crimson beast bared her fangs slightly as the corner of her mouth curled in disdain.

“Her talents are wasted on you, crab,” she spat.

Balthazar felt the tide shifting again in his core. His adversary was trying to change the subject and redefine the focus. She was losing her footing.

“A baker of her skill,” Beatrix continued, “is better off preparing her delights for a superior being like myself, not a common crab on the side of some road. What could a simple crustacean know or appreciate about culinary delicacies anyway?”

A sly smirk appeared on the gilded crab. She had made a fatal mistake.

“You dare question my pastry knowledge, reptilian?!” Balthazar exclaimed with great gravitas.

The sky-creature glowered at him with fierce determination. “I do.”

“What do you know of pies, burnt-tongue?” the defiant crab snapped.

Beatrix threw her long head back and laughed.

“Much! I know the superior taste of dragonfruit pies, unlike you.”

Balthazar’s eyestalks curled inward.

“Apple pie is the best pie, everyone knows that.”

“Pwah!” the dragon spat. “Cooked apples barely qualify as food.”

“Blasphemy!” exclaimed the outraged crustacean.

“You don’t even know the marvels of meat pies, do you?” Beatrix said with a sly grin.

“True pastries are meant to be sweet,” the crab shot back.

“Can you truly call yourself a pie connoisseur if you have never experienced the comfort of a good shepherd’s pie? Or the satisfaction of consuming a cottage pie on a cold day?”

All the way in the back, Balthazar heard distant but enthusiastic clapping.

The crab glared back at his goblin assistant, who jumped in place and quickly stopped his clapping, as if suddenly remembering whose side he was supposed to be on.

“Cold, rainy days are best spent nibbling on a pumpkin pie, and you know that that’s the truth, dragon,” said the merchant, turning back to his foe.

Beatrix frowned, unable to argue against his statement.

“But what about pecan pies?” she retorted. “Can you really speak against those?”

It was Balthazar’s turn to frown. The beast knew she had him on that one.

“What about them? They’re… fine, too.” he replied.

“Pecan pies are the superior pies,” she added, with a self-satisfied air. “The trick is to toast the pecans first. I learned that from Madeleine herself. Did she ever teach you any such secrets?”

The dragon watched the crab’s reaction to her words with keen attention.

“I’d have to disagree, because strawberry rhubarb pie is a delicacy,” the merchant said, attempting a swerve. “Both must be stewed together, however, otherwise you end up with crunchy rhubarb.”

Beatrix scoffed loudly.

“Hogwash! Crunchy is what it’s all about!”

She smiled with a toothy grin, and to his own surprise, the crab found himself smirking as well.

His mind felt tantalized in the same way it did when haggling with an adventurer over the price of a shield or pair of socks. It was as stimulating as the time he negotiated with the tax collector from Ardville. As exciting as when he arranged new trade deals with the merchants of Marquessa.

It felt right. It felt like he was doing what he was meant for.

Balthazar was having… fun.

“But what about peach pies, eh?” the crab said with a cheeky grin.

***

Over by the kitchen area, the crab’s friends sat around with mostly bored expressions.

“It’s been nearly four hours, and they’re still going at it,” Rye said, playing with the crumbs on his plate. “When will it be over?”

“Hmm? What’s that?” the distracted baker said without turning to face him.

She was hunched over Bouldy’s open hand, smiling from ear to ear as she played with Pebbles.

“Who’s a pretty little rock? You are! Yes, you are!” she kept saying with a playful voice. “I can’t believe Balthazar never told me he had a pet rock. So cute!”

The tiny pebble bounced back and forth against the girl’s finger while chirping happily, to Madeleine’s immense joy.

In front of the counter, both Druma and Blue remained attentively watching the dragon and crab’s clash.

“Druma think boss is close to winning!” the green assistant said.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve said that, Druma,” the archer remarked with a sigh. “In the past hour.”

Over by the center of the lair, the two titans of debate remained locked in a fierce battle of intellects. A clash of wills. A fight of ideologies.

About baking and pastries.

Many a critical blow had been landed, severe damage to their prides and egos had been endured, but their wills remained strong, neither showing any signs of wanting to forfeit to the other.

“Key lime pie, of course!” Balthazar exclaimed. “But with whipped cream, none of that meringue nonsense.”

“How could you say that when banana cream pie is clearly superior?!” Beatrix replied, waving her massive arms around as she spoke.

Indeed, it would seem that as far as pies were concerned, neither party was ever going to overcome the other.

Several figurative pies had been thrown around, from coconut cream pies to cherry ones. They had exhausted the list of other possible cherry fillings, from blueberry to blackberry, even making a stop at wild berries. None managed to leave the other without an answer that kept the argument going.

And so the red dragon and the golden crab continued to debate each other, despite the mental exhaustion visibly weighing on them.

Until Beatrix made a misplay.

“The girl is obviously better off here with me! Regardless of who knows and appreciates pastries the most, I have the clear advantage of being able to provide her with what you never could dream of.”

“Oh yes? And what is that?” Balthazar asked.

“Limitless resources!” the crimson creature exclaimed, spreading her arms and wings in a grandiose display of her mighty presence. “My hoard is vast and full of plentiful treasure. Madeleine would know no lack of materials. No ingredient would ever be too expensive for her. I have the ultimate source of power—riches!”

All around her, the piles of jewels, gems, and little pieces of gold seemed to glow and glint by her command, but the crab remained steadfast.

He had been hoping and waiting for that moment.

She had finally walked right into his trap.

“Hmph,” Balthazar scoffed with a sly smirk. “Is that so?”

The dragon lowered her arms and folded her wings back, bringing her eyes down to her adversary again.

“I’ve been admiring your hoard since we started this discussion,” the gilded merchant said. “Very impressive. But I have also been… counting.”

Beatrix’s slit pupils narrowed. “What?!”

“You have many riches, indeed. Some gold, silver too, and several small precious stones as well. By my calculations, your hoard totals to about… ten thousand crowns in value, does it not?”

The winged beast seemed genuinely taken aback this time. For the first time since their battle started, Balthazar felt he had caught her off guard.

“You… are correct,” she hesitantly said, before bringing her tone back up. “Ten thousand gold coins in worth! A treasure fit for a queen! A lowly roadside merchant such as yourself could only ever dream of owning such riches!”

The crab chuckled. “Is that what you think?”

Visible concern betrayed Beatrix’s expression as she gulped quietly. “What are you talking about? Do not attempt to bluff with me, crab. It will not work!”

The merchant pulled out his Bag of Holding Money with great flair, his eyes fixed on the dragon.

“I do not need to bluff, dragon,” he said. “While you were busy terrorizing farmers, I was earning money. Making trades. Amassing a fortune.”

“W-what?” the creature said, her frown deepening with concern. “No…”

Balthazar pulled the strings of the magical bag and slowly turned it upside down, causing a stream of golden coins to start falling out in front of him.

“Yes,” said the confident crustacean. “I’m not just a merchant crab. I’m an expert merchant crab. I’ve crossed this whole continent, negotiating with adventurers and nobles. Making deals others thought impossible. Guild masters of commerce have underestimated me before, and they ended up in misery. My influence is vast and reaches far beyond my little pond now. I have what you lack, dragon. I have allies. I have friends. I have earned respect without talon or fire. I have influence. But above all that, I have a power far greater than yours…”

The golden crab shook the coin bag vigorously as the coins continued to pour out, piling up in small hills between them, quickly growing to rival the size of the dragon’s hoard.

“I have more money than you!” Balthazar yelled triumphantly as he tossed the overflowing bag up, letting the shiny coins fly.

Hah! I knew keeping all my savings in single crown coins would pay off for greater effect sooner or later!

In his monocle, a descriptive line displayed the value of the piles of money he had unleashed.

[15,512 crowns]

“N-no… it cannot be!” Beatrix said, shielding her eyes from the blinding golden glow with her arm. “A crab is… richer than me?”

As if he could feel something snapping within his mind’s eye, Balthazar knew it was over. He had dealt the final blow. The dragon’s pride had been mortally wounded.

The crab walked closer to the creature.

“I can tell you’ve grown to care about Madeleine far beyond just seeing her as someone who bakes for you. I would know, I did too. So you must also accept that, in the end, neither your will or mine should matter. What matters is what she wants for herself. You have to let her go.”

Beatrix stared deep into his eyes, as if peering straight into his soul, but this time Balthazar did not feel scared, intimidated, or apprehensive at all. He was ready to let her see right through him, for he had nothing to hide.

[The Gift of the Crab: success]

The Queen of Flames hung her head in shame, her wings slumping as she slammed her claws on the floor in defeat.

“You have asserted your dominance through your might,” she said. “I… I yield.”

[You have defeated a level 75 Red Dragon in a Battle of Wits. Large amount of experience gained!]

[You have reached level 26!]

[You have reached level 27!]

[You have reached level 28!]

The victorious crab threw his pincers up. “Yes!”

Back by the kitchen, the others stirred awake from their bored stupor.

“Huh, what?!” exclaimed Rye, lifting his chin from his palm. “Is it over?”

“I won!” Balthazar said, skittering back to them. “Madeleine is coming home with us!”

Slowly, the group started to take in what had just happened after several hours of pure tedium.

“Wait, really?!”

“Yay!”

“Boss won! Boss won!”

“Friend!”

They all surrounded the crab, smiles and hurrahs being thrown around as they excitedly celebrated his victory and the baker’s freedom.

“I can’t believe I’m going home!” Madeleine said. “Thank you, Balthazar. This place was nice, but I really missed my little kitchen back home!”

“Haha! And I can’t wait to sit by the pond having a slice of pie with you like in the good old days,” the merchant said with a wide grin. “I miss my home so much.”

“Well done, Balthazar,” said Rye, giving him a pat on the back of the shell. “I knew we could count on you, friend.”

“Yeah, good job, Balthazar,” another voice said. “What are we celebrating, by the way?”

“Huh?!” the crab said, turning around swiftly.

Rob was standing behind them, clapping his hands and looking mildly confused.

“Rob?” the baffled crustacean exclaimed. “What are you doing here?!”

“I've been looking for you,” the courier said. “Got something I'm supposed to deliver—your pincers only.”

“Wait,” said the archer. “How in the world did you find him up here?! We’re all the way out in the middle of nowhere, inside a mountain, in a dragon’s lair!”

The former thief shrugged casually. “I dunno, man. I just get told who to deliver something to and then I just… go.”

Balthazar looked at the mustached man with a befuddled expression.

“Hold on… so all this time you could have taken us straight here into the dragon’s lair if I had just asked you to deliver her a message?!”

Rob scratched his chin as he looked up, thinking. “Did you know the dragon’s name?”

“Uh… No? Not until today.”

“Yeah, then no. How am I supposed to deliver something if I don’t know who the recipient is?”

The crab threw his arms out in exasperation. “I don’t know! How the hell are you delivering me things all the time no matter where I am?!”

Rolling his eyes, the courier pulled a folded letter out from his breast pocket.

“Look, you want the message or not? It’s from your people back home. It seemed pretty urgent.”

Balthazar’s expression shifted at the mention of his home.

“It did?”

“Yes,” Rob said. “I think there’s something really bad going on at your pond.”