Balthazar stood in the middle of the Halls of Semla. Not on eight legs, but on just two. Two human legs.

He blinked.

That felt strange.

He had never blinked before. Crabs do not have eyelids.

These were not his eyes. Not his body. This was someone else’s memory—but whose?

The endless halls around him were white, pristine, and full of light. Not a speck of dust to be seen.

This was not now. Not the present. This was the past—but when?

Balthazar felt the burning questions in the far reaches of his mind, but they were little more than a distant whisper that went unnoticed.

His body—or rather, the form he was currently occupying—turned without him commanding it to.

A sense of joy he did not understand filled his mind upon seeing a small group of humans smiling at him. They were local men and women of different ages and sizes. Some wore simple peasant clothes, others work attires, a few donned pieces of armor. But each one carried at least one party item.

A workman wore a bright green wig on his head. A lady dressed like a maid carried a bundle of balloons in her hand. There was even a large warrior in bulky armor with a party blower in his mouth.

They all seemed so… happy.

A distant echo of a voice came from above, faded and muffled, like hearing someone from underwater.

“It’s time. Everything is ready.”

Balthazar’s gaze went up. A brown owl stood on the ledge of a pillar, looking down at him with reverence.

“Must you really go already?” a woman wearing an apron and a novelty hat asked from between the crowd of humans. “We arranged this whole party to say goodbye, but… can you not stay just a little longer before we do?”

Balthazar felt a wrench in his heart. He did know this person, or what this was even all about, but the guilt and regret within him were unmistakable.

As were the doubts and the hesitation.

Something deep inside begged him to stay, to not go. At least not yet.

But to not go where, the crab wondered.

Then came the resolve. A strong feeling of responsibility that anchored his decision to do what needed to be done.

But he had no idea what that even was.

The head Balthazar was occupying shook from side to side slowly.

A sad, mournful expression descended on the faces of every local surrounding him.

The dreamer cast his gaze around the halls one last time.

They were not empty as Balthazar expected. There were different sections everywhere, each one full of people going about their tasks or enjoying some cake while wearing party hats.

He saw halls with weapon racks and training dummies, where young men and women sparred and practiced their moves. Nearby, he could see a blacksmith’s hall, a bright forge occupying most of it while a broad-shouldered man hammered a piece of metal against an anvil by the entrance. There were halls full of long tables where people sat eating from a banquet. Some halls had market stalls or even full-fledged shops within them, merchants eagerly chatting with their clients as they browsed. In the distance he could see a spiral monument, surrounded by a small crowd of people gathered around with large cups full of a white, foamy substance in their hands as they laughed and talked.

The place was busy and full of life, far from the dark, creepy dungeon full of death and decay that the crab had explored.

He wondered what had happened to it.

Somehow, the merchant knew that would be the last time he’d ever see this place like that.

Balthazar felt his gaze move away, wavy ripples distorting the memory, like peering through turbulent water.

His eyes shut for a moment, everything going black, and then he opened them again.

A staircase stood in front of him, leading down. It was flanked by two tall torches mounted on marble stands, their flames a pure white that matched the polished stone.

Sorrow struck at his heart once more. Balthazar did not understand what was happening, who he was, or why he was seeing what he was seeing, but he understood one overwhelming feeling above all others.

He did not want to go.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

The dreamer took a deep breath.

There was no other way. He had to do it. For them. For everyone else.

Balthazar felt himself walk forward toward the first step as the halls all around started to fade away.

I have to go down.

***

“Hey, Balthazar, get up!” a familiar voice called.

The disoriented crab came to on the dusty floor of the Halls of Semla, his vision blurry as he looked at the old lanterns hanging from the distant ceiling above.

Rye’s face popped up in front of his field of view, one eyebrow cocked.

“Wha… What happened?” Balthazar asked, trying to get back on his feet. “How did I get over here?”

“Jack and I pulled you out of the basin,” the archer replied while helping the merchant stand back up. “You passed out just as the fountain came back on. Was it out of shock for what came out of it?”

The crab frowned at the adventurer’s grin. “What do you mean by—hey, what is this stuff?!”

Balthazar checked his underside as he realized that a thick, foamy white substance was covering part of his chitin. His eyestalks jumped up to look at the fountain, where he saw Jack standing inside the basin, with the same liquid up to his knees and a huge smile on his face, along with a white mustache above it.

“It’s whipped cream!” he yelled, both arms spread out in triumphant celebration.

“I hadn’t tasted this stuff in so long,” said Leah, who was sitting on the edge of the fountain and running a finger through the surface of the white cream, a stream of overwhelming emotions flooding her expression.

“Whipped… cream?” the flabbergasted crab repeated as he scooped a sample of the moist foam from his carapace.

He stared at the pearly white swirl on the tip of his pincer before giving it a tentative lick.

Balthazar’s eyes widened into a pair of saucers.

“More!” he blurted out before dashing to the edge of the pool under the fountain.

Like a glutton—which the crab very much was—Balthazar grabbed pincerfuls of the frothed substance and greedily licked them until a creamy beard covered the whole area around his mouth.

It was the nectar of the gods, as far as the crustacean was concerned. The sugary liquid tasted sweeter than anything he had ever tried, and while it was delicious on its own, Balthazar couldn’t stop thinking about how well it would go together with some of Madeleine’s pastries.

I have to bring some of this stuff for her to use!

The crab looked up at the spiral where the power core rested, still shiny and radiant. Streams of white cream gushed out of each of the four ends of the lattice monument, making a small arch before dropping into the basin surrounding the fountain.

First a volcano that spewed liquid chocolate, and now a dungeon with a fountain of whipped cream. The merchant was confused, but definitely not complaining.

As he gobbled up more of the silken delight, a sudden system notification appeared in his eyes.

[Diagnosis complete]

[Halls of Semla status report]

[Power restored]

[Lighting: enabled]

[Fountain: activated]

[Other facilities: missing and/or damaged]

[Network systems: restarting…]

[Counting local population…]

[Done]

[Floor population: 206 skeletons]

Below the report, there were two options for the crab to select.

[Floor 0 - Halls of Semla] [Other floors]

Curious, Balthazar quickly picked the second option.

[Checking next floor…]

[Unable to run status report]

[Cause: The floor’s power must be restored first and manager linked to the floor’s system]

Ah, of course, what did I expect…

Returning to the previous screen, the merchant chose to check more about the current floor when a stream of new lines appeared.

[Floor loot system: online]

[Deploying rewards…]

From the corner of his eye, a different system prompt appeared.

[Halls of Semla cleared. Shared experience received.]

[You have reached Level 30!]

Balthazar gazed past the text, at his human companions. He could tell from the looks in their eyes that they had just received the same notification.

The crab was ready to dismiss the level-up prompt for later when another box of text appeared.

[By reaching level 30, you have unlocked the ability to upgrade learned skills. After using a skill for long enough and upon reaching a breakthrough with it, the skill will improve by one rank and gain new properties.]

Oh, what’s this about? The intrigued crustacean wondered. I’ll have to give it a try later too.

“Uhm… Guys?” Rye called from the side of the whipped cream pool. “Was that there before?”

The group approached the archer to look at where he was pointing.

Behind the fountain, on a slightly raised portion of the stone floor, was a large chest, golden and bound in silver, so radiant that its gleaming form was reflected perfectly in the crab’s wonderstruck eyes.

“Woah…” Balthazar muttered, his jaw dropped while a thick drip of whipped cream dangled precariously from his chin. “What is that chest?”

“It’s a dungeon clear reward chest,” said Leah, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “But I had never seen a golden one before, only heard about them.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, an eager grin painted across the portion of his face not covered by the horned helmet. “I hear they’re supposed to contain loot specifically suited for each of the adventurers who cleared the dungeon. None of that random chance at getting junk.”

Rye rubbed the back of his neck while staring at the sparkly container.

“Well, I guess we earned it!” The archer turned to look at the crab. “Maybe we should let Balthazar do the honors. He’s the reason we are here right now, after all.”

Jack and Leah exchanged a quick glance before shrugging.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t see why not,” said the fighter.

“Maybe he will rub some of that merchant crab good luck on it,” the swordsman added.

Without needing to be told twice—because he already had full intention to get his pincers on the shiny chest anyway—Balthazar stepped in front of the gilded box.

It was slightly larger than him, and its surface sparkled with mesmerizing flares at every step the crab took toward it, like water droplets on a stone during a sunny day.

Feeling a tingling excitement run down his shell, Balthazar eagerly flicked the latch on the chest open with both pincers.

A dramatic creak echoed through the halls when the crab raised it and peeked inside, his eyes widening as a golden light bathed his face.