Merchant Crab

Balthazar languished in jail. His cruel captors had thrown him into the depths of a prison cell on the ground floor, left with only a small clay mug of water, hardly enough for a crab to submerge himself in. Abandoned to his own luck with not even a pastry to eat.

Hunger threatened to soon finish him, if despair didn’t claim his mind first.

The crab could see the end coming. All hope had long since left him. He knew he wasn’t going to make it this time.

He wondered if his friends missed him or had moved on with their lives since his disappearance.

The sweet taste of pie was barely a remnant of a memory in what felt like a lifetime ago.

Balthazar sighed.

It had been about forty-five minutes since his arrest.

“Hey! Is someone out there?” he shouted to the empty corridor, pressing his eyestalks between the iron bars of his cell. “I know my rights! I’m allowed one courier!”

Isolation was driving him crazy. Crabs were not meant to be trapped in one place, unable to leave. At least not this one. Not anymore.

The worst was the stench. Foul sewage odor permeated the air all around that catacomb, overwhelming the senses until they were numbed. The merchant had met necromancers who smelled better than that place.

He grabbed the bars with his pincers, frustrated at the metal keeping him from his freedom. If only he still had his backpack. Maybe he could use the iron ingot he had gotten from Captain Leander to imbue his pincers and bend the bars.

Balthazar twisted his eyestalks, peeking at an old wood shelf right before the corner at the other end of the corridor. The guards had thrown his Backpack of Holding there when they brought him in. So close yet so far away.

The crab bounced back from the jail door with a sigh, letting his bottom drop to the floor as he sat under the striped sunlight coming in through the barred window of his cell.

It would have been of no use anyway. I’m nowhere near strong enough to bend them.

Something popped into his mind at the mention of strength.

Hey, that’s right, I leveled up right before being arrested.

Pulling up his system screen, the merchant checked the familiar prompt.

[You have reached level 20]

[Choose a base stat to increase by 10]

[Health: 210/210]

[Stamina: 30/30]

[Mana: 20/20]

He let out another sigh.

None of these help me with getting out of here.

With a flick, the crab increased his health to 220. He saw little use to increasing the other two, and at least with more life maybe he’d have a better chance of living long enough to see the outside again. If his growling stomach didn’t do him in first.

Ugh, it’s so past my lunchtime.

[You have 3 unspent attribute points]

[Attributes:]

This chapter upload first at NovelUsb.Com

[Strength: 5]

[Endurance: 5]

[Agility: 5]

[Perception: 5]

[Intellect: 13]

[Charisma: 61]

Hmm, why was I increasing my Intellect before?

With another flick of his eyes, Balthazar looked at his list of skills, particularly the most recent one.

[All-Tongue]

[Skill - C tier]

[Requirements: 40 CHA, 20 INT]

[Cost: 5 mana]

[For 5 minutes, your tongue can reach anyone’s ears. No, gross, not like that. Sentient beings will understand your words no matter their language.]

Ah, that’s right. Because I need 20 on it to use this one.

Too filled with despair to care or think any further on it, the imprisoned merchant simply bumped his Intellect up to 16.

It’s not like investing in Strength now would let me bust that wall down.

As he browsed through his list of traits and skills, regretting how none of them were of any use to escape a prison cell, something appeared outside, blocking the sunlight the crab was sitting under. R̃

A small blob of black fur was on the other side of the iron bars on the window. Balthazar squinted against the bright light until he could fully make out what it was. Just a cat.

Oh…

With yet another sigh, the merchant dismissed his system screen.

None of this stuff helps me right now. I need someone else to get me out of here.

He glanced up at the window again, where the feline figure still was, sitting with its back to the warm sunlight as it looked at the crab.

Heh. If I was already able to use that All-Tongue skill, maybe I could ask you to go find me someone.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

Grabbing the water container at the corner of his cell, Balthazar took a small sip from it.

“Bleh! How do you manage to make water stale?” he grumbled. “If only I could have some water from my precious pond…”

The crab’s eyestalks perked up with a start as he heard a loud metal noise nearby.

He glanced at the window as he skittered toward the cell’s door, but the cat was gone, likely scared away by the noise, he figured.

A man walked down the corridor to the crab’s cell with a plate in his hand. The merchant recognized him as the guardsman who had been too afraid to approach Blue before her escape. Not because Balthazar had gotten any better at telling humans apart, but simply because he had noticed the human’s armor was slightly shoddier when he was getting arrested. He always keeps an eye out for the details that really matter.

“Hey, you,” the guard said. “I figured you might be hungry. Here.”

The young man passed the plate through the slot between the iron bars. It had a pretty sad and stale-looking loaf of bread on it.

“Thanks,” the hesitant crab said, taking the plate into his pincers.

“Hey, don’t make that face,” said the human. “It’s not like they give us guards the best bread every morning. You’re lucky I could even get you that.”

“Is that why you’re all taking bribes? So you can buy better bread?” the frowning crustacean replied. “I mean, not that I wouldn’t kinda get it, bread is pretty great…”

“Bribes?” the young guard said with a hint of indignation. “You think guys like me are getting paid any bribes?!”

“Why else are you going around being shamelessly corrupt and arresting the innocent while letting bandits go free then?”

The guard shook his head. “Nobody’s paying squat to grunts like me.”

“What then?” Balthazar asked while nibbling on a piece of bread. “Are you doing it for her too? Whoever that is?”

“Man… I thought people said you were smart for a crab,” said the disappointed human. “I don’t even know who the hell that is. All that stuff is way above my pay grade. Most of us low-ranks are just trying to go along with whatever the commander says to not get on his bad side. If that means turning a blind eye here and there then that’s just what you gotta do to keep your job.”

His curiosity now piqued, the crab put down the plate with bread—it was far too stale to enjoy anyway.

“So wait,” he started. “You’re telling me the problem comes from the top? It’s not guards working alongside bandits for their own gain?”

“Hell no! Most of us hate it, but when your boss tells you to play ball, what choice do you have? Whoever that ‘her’ you mentioned is, she has all the right people wrapped around her finger. You think little fish like me are gonna play hero against corruption? No way!”

“Huh… Interesting,” Balthazar said, tapping his chin as he thought. “If that’s the case, tell me—”

The loud clang of the door at the top of the corridor opening echoed through the cells, startling both crab and human.

“Crap, the commander is back!” said the scared guard. “I shouldn’t even be here.”

The young man ran up the corridor, reaching the corner just as another figure appeared.

“What are you doing down here?” a harsh, displeased voice asked.

“I-I was double-checking that the prisoner was well secure, sir!” Balthazar heard the nervous guard reply.

His superior groaned loudly before barking his next order. “Get out of here, kid. I want to talk to the crab. Alone.”

The merchant pushed his eyestalks through the bars as he heard the footsteps of the younger man running out of the dungeon and closing the door behind him. As soon as the bolt slammed closed, a new set of slower, heavier footsteps echoed down the corridor and Balthazar saw the commander of the guards walking toward his cell.

He was a tall, robust middle-aged man with a face of someone who didn’t enjoy making new friends very much. His red and brown uniform was like the one from the other guards, except much higher quality and spotless, lacking the dust and wear from those doing the beat duty daily.

Balthazar found his facial expression to fit perfectly with the rotting aroma lingering in the air around that place.

The crab also knew he was more influential because he carried a set of larger pauldrons on his shoulders and wore a cape. Humans seemed to love capes to show off they are important.

“So you’re the one, huh?” the mean-faced man grumbled as he reached the crab’s jail cell.

“Well, hello there,” Balthazar replied, unfazed by yet another human with poor manners. “I would say nice to meet you, but then I saw your face, so…”

The commander’s mouth twisted with spite. “Acting really smug for someone behind bars.”

“Ah, you know, it’s only temporary,” the merchant claimed, attempting to sound confident. “I’m sure Mayor Marquessa or Captain Leander won’t be too pleased when they hear that an important trader from across the continent has been arrested on bogus charges.”

The sour-faced man suddenly let out a loud laugh.

“Hah! Who says they’ll hear anything?” the man exclaimed. “Leander’s time is long gone, he’s a relic of the past with no real power. He should stick to lecturing kids at his hall and reminiscing over his ship days.”

Balthazar frowned at the boastful man as he came closer to the bars.

“And Marquessa,” the commander continued with a hateful smile, “needs to stick to her job of being a shiny figurehead, because those with real power are those down in the trenches, commanding the men.”

The crustacean clicked his tongue as he shook his head. “Tsk, you really are very stereotypical, you know that? Too bad I already know you’re just a puppet.”

“You!” the suddenly irate man exclaimed, grabbing one of the bars and bringing his face closer. “Watch your tone! I’m nobody’s puppet!”

Balthazar gave him the side-eye and a smirk. “Not even her puppet?”

“You shut your mouth!” the commander barked. “You don’t know her! I’m her favorite! All these other fools like Onion Jake are the puppets, a means to her ends, waiting to be discarded.” His tone suddenly shifted to a less bitter one and his thick eyebrows twisted as he looked up at the ceiling with a glint in his eyes. “When her plan is through, I’ll be the one standing by her side, basking in her gratitude for everything we have achieved.”

The crab did his best to keep his eyestalks from rolling all the way around the prison cell.

Oh, sweet pie of mine. This guy has it even worse than the onion fella.

“And you think you’ve got what it takes to see that plan through?” Balthazar said. “I talked to Onion Jake too, you know? And it seemed like he was the one doing all the heavy-lifting and feeling pretty confident about her gratitude toward him.”

The commander’s eyes widened and bulged out as he pressed his face between the iron bars.

“What?!” he yelled. “That lowlife isn’t worthy of even kissing the ground she walks! A disgusting bandit like him would stink up her beautiful presence! Just the idea of her heavenly scent being overpowered by his stance… outrageous!”

The man pulled the edge of his cape to the front of his face and gave it a strong sniff, his eyes closing as he smiled like someone revisiting a fond memory.

What the…

“Just the lingering memory of our last encounter fills me with joy…” the commander said in a dreamy tone.

Getting a little closer, Balthazar picked up on the smell from the human’s cape, like some kind of perfume the crab doubted belonged to the brute in front of him.

It was very faint and difficult to fully capture, but it made him feel slightly lightheaded on the first whiff. Even stranger, the merchant felt like that smell was vaguely familiar and that it reminded him of something in particular, he just wasn’t sure what.

“Get away! Her scent is not for your nose!” barked the angry man, pulling his cape away from the jail door.

“Again, I don’t have a nose. I thought you guys had enough eyes to see that…” the crustacean said with a roll of his own eyes. “Either way, don’t you think that’s a bit rude of you toward her?”

“What?!” exclaimed the confused human.

“It’s always ‘her’ and ‘she’ when talking about… her,” said Balthazar. “A proper gentleman would refer to a lady by her name, don’t you think?”

“Well, I mean…” the suddenly flustered man said. “I guess I… I would never mean to offend her—I mean, lady…”

“Yes…” the crab said with great anticipation. “Go on, lady…?”

[The Gift of the Crab: blocked]

What?! Not again!

“Ah, you crafty creature!” the commander exclaimed. “You were trying to use me, weren’t you? Trying to squeeze information out of me. It won’t work! My loyalty to her is impenetrable.”

With a twirl of his cape, the commander turned to leave.

“You can rot in that cell until she decides what to do with you, crab.”

Balthazar grasped the iron bars again. “Hey, come on! You can’t just leave me in here, without a pie, or at least a cushion! Can't you bring me an air freshener for the sewer stench?”

The bolt of the door above echoed again as the young guard from before ran down the corridor, meeting his commander halfway.

“What is it?” the superior said.

“Sir,” said the other guard. “There’s someone outside, saying they’ve come to free the crab.”

The irate man puffed up in anger. “Who?!”