Chapter 42: Overstepping Your Boundaries
The goblin jumped off the boulder’s shoulder and onto the ground. Pointing his staff at the wolf trying to bite through Balthazar’s shell, he released a stream of green magical bolts, knocking the creature off with a whimper.
Bouldy brought his huge hand down and wrapped it around the wolf that was biting down on the silver pincer, and with a squeeze made the attacker let out a high-pitched whimper and release the arm. The golem promptly tossed the wolf aside like it was a stuffed toy.
Finally free of his other assailants, Balthazar turned to the one who had been trying to bite down on his legs and pressed his iron pincer around its snout. The wolf let out a muffled whine and thrashed around until the crab let go.
“How do you like it, huh?!” Balthazar angrily yelled at the retreating wolf with the scrunched up muzzle, who ran away into the forest.
“Boss, boss!” Druma came running, staff still firmly grasped in his hands. “Is boss alright?”
“Yes, I think so,” the crab responded, still trying to recover his breath. “That was a close save. I thought I was done for. Saw my whole life pass in front of my eyes. It was so boring.”
Looking back at the pack leader, he saw it still engaged in combat with the drake. She would try to swoop down on it, and the wolf retaliated by jumping on its hind legs to try and bite her. She continued circling above, looking for an opening to strike through.
“Prideful thing. You only cared when a proper opponent showed up, didn’t you?” the resentful crab said to himself.Looking the other way, Balthazar saw the bulkier wolf standing back up and start heading back towards them.
“Don’t let your guard down,” said the golden crab. “It’s not over yet.”
“Friend,” the stoic golem said, stepping over the crab and goblin to intercept the incoming attacker.
Pulling his fist back, Bouldy wound up for a powerful punch, but by the time his strike came down, it hit nothing but air. The wolf used its speed to dodge to the side and with a quick jump propelled itself off the golem’s arm and lunged at his neck. He tried to sink its fangs in, but found nothing but hard rock, clawing and trying to snap as it clung to the giant’s shoulders.
“Boss!” shouted Druma, alerting the crab to the incoming attacker.
Balthazar jumped back just in time to avoid the bite from one of the level 5 wolves.
“Druma magics you again!” the goblin said, thrusting his staff at the creature, but no orbs shot out that time. The tip of the staff let out a small green spark and nothing more. He looked at it, confused.
“I told you so many times,” the goblin’s boss said, while giving the wolf a punch with the blunt side of his iron claw, “it’s not you who’s magic, it’s the staff. That thing is probably out of mana charges now.”
The assistant looked at the staff, disappointment and a hint of sadness painted in his expression. “Druma not magic?”
“No! You never were, damn it! Now focus!”
Balthazar turned to the wolf he had just punched and snapped his pincer at it, attempting to catch one of its legs. The creature dodged, its stance more defensive.
“Not so tough when you’re not in a group, are you?” the crab said, holding both pincers in front of himself. “Come on, try me, stink breath.”
The wolf reared its head, snarling. It no longer had the will to attack now that it had lost superiority in numbers.
Balthazar took one step forward and snapped his pincer, and the wolf turned tail and ran down the road.
“Coward!” yelled the crab.
Looking back at the golem, he saw the giant spinning around himself, trying to reach the wolf latching onto his back.
“Stop playing and get rid of that thing already, Bouldy!” Balthazar yelled.
A loud screech startled the crab.
Blue had pinned the alpha wolf under her talons, and was now semi-mounted on its back, wings spread open, as the barking creature thrashed around, trying to bite at her.
With great effort, she leveraged her weight against the wolf’s and flipped it onto its back. Before it could flip itself back, she snapped her mandible around one of its paws, making the other creature let out a howl of pain.
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“Great, you got it,” Balthazar started saying to the drake as he approached them, “now just—”
The crab winced, as she seemed to pay no mind to his words and instead bit down on the wolf’s neck, bringing its thrashing to a quick stop.
Before he could say anything else, a large shadow flew over him. The large wolf Bouldy had been struggling with went flying down the road, landing with a loud crack of bones, immobile.
“Damn…” Balthazar said. “At least everyone is alright.”
He stopped and counted in his head for a moment.
“Wait, wasn’t there one more—”
“ARGH!”
Quickly turning to the source of the scream, the crab saw the last remaining wolf biting down on his goblin assistant’s left leg, who was crying out in pain while helplessly trying to punch at the creature’s snout with no results.
“Druma!” Balthazar shouted. “Bouldy, get—”
Before he could finish his sentence, a blue blur shot over him and hit the side of the wolf.
Blue let out a loud warning screech at the black wolf as it stood back up, limping. It growled in return.
Planting her hind legs down and extending her wings back, the drake shot out a small jet of blue flames from her mouth over the lone wolf.
Whimpering at the burning heat, it ran away into the plains.
Rushing to the goblin, Balthazar found him lying on the ground, clinging to his bitten leg in pain. The wound was deep.
“Sorry… sorry, boss,” he struggled to say between sobbing. “Druma try… try using staff again… but it no work. Druma dumb. Druma not magic.”
“Hey, no, no, stop that,” the anxious crab hurriedly said, seeing the green fading from the goblin’s face. “You could totally be magic. What do I know about wizards, anyway? I’m just a silly crab. That staff was probably just faulty. You know those adventurers are always breaking stuff.”
A log appeared in front of Balthazar’s eyes, notifying him about the shared experience gained from the slain wolves, followed by one more line.
[You have reached level 12!]
It didn’t matter, he cared not for levels, skills, or any of that stupid system’s nonsense. There was only one thing of use from it at that moment.
Quickly swiping away the notifications, he used the party system in his eyes to check his assistant’s health points.
[Health: 6/60]
Blue stood close, lowering her head to sniff at the goblin’s wound, with what seemed to be a concerned frown.
Bouldy joined them with quick stomps, no smile on his stone face.
“Friend?”
“Pick him up, quick!” Balthazar ordered. “Let’s bring him in. I’ll get a health potion.”
The golem gently swept his stone hands under the weakened goblin and carried him down the path to the trading post.
Rushing to one of the shelves, the crab grabbed two of his largest red bottles and some rolled up bandages from a crate.
“Here you go, buddy,” he said, as he uncorked one of the potions and helped the goblin lead his trembling hands that held it to his mouth. “Don\'t worry, you’ll be good as new in no time.”
Druma tried to force a smile under his bleary eyes as he sat on the floor, back against a crate. His wound was not looking any better as the crab carefully used his silver pincer to wrap the bandage around the leg.
Growing more frantic, Balthazar checked his status again.
[Health: 6/60]
“Why is this not working, damn it?”
The crab opened the other potion bottle.
“Here, try having another.”
The goblin struggled to swallow, but downed the whole thing.
It continued having no effect.
Balthazar felt a pit in his stomach. Not the same kind he’d get when not having any pastries for too long, one much worse. It was anxiety mixed with panic, despair, and a feeling of being powerless.
He was not used to feeling such emotions, but he couldn’t help it at that moment.
The crab expected a health potion to solve it all. It’s right in the name, health, so why it did not recover the goblin’s health points like it had in the past was something he was failing to understand.
“The wolf,” he muttered under his breath. “The bite must have infected him with something.”
Balthazar rushed to his potions shelf once more, desperately going through the many colorful vials. Health, stamina, mana, hair regrowth tonics, mouthwash elixirs, armpit perfume. None of them was even remotely relevant to what he needed.
“Please, please work,” he whispered as he returned to the frail goblin with a bottle of cure poison in his pincer.
It did not work.
“Damn it,” said Balthazar, growing frustrated as his desperation increased.
“Boss…” the goblin said, in a faint voice. “Druma feel too warm.”
The crab placed his pincer against the goblin’s pale forehead.
He was burning with fever, the heat was noticeable even through the shell.
“Don’t worry, Druma, I’ll figure it out.”
Whatever sickness it was, it worked fast. Balthazar did not know what it was, or what it would do, but seeing his assistant… his friend, in that state, was too disconcerting.
“Maybe a healer or an alchemist would know what to do.” He looked over the road at the setting sun. “But where will I get one at this hour? There’s no one on the roads.”
He paced anxiously back and forth, constantly glancing at the shivering goblin.
He had no way of communicating with the people from town. There would be no one to ask for help until the morning. He couldn’t very well send a golem who only speaks one word to the gates for help.
Balthazar knew what his only option was, but he did not want to face it.
“I make my own choices,” the crab told himself.
He turned to Bouldy, who remained squat down next to his friend, a deep frown of concern on his rigid face.
“You look after him. I will go get help.”
The golem nodded gently.
Blue was a few paces back, also observing the situation. Balthazar stopped in front of her.
“Please, just… bah, never mind. You wouldn’t listen, anyway.”
Without looking back, the crab hurried up the path back to the road.
The guards would know who he was, as did the adventurers. They didn’t need to let him in, just send word inside for someone, anyone that could come and help.
It was right up the road, a short walk to the city gates.
The crab was now going further away from his pond than he ever recalled going. His pace slowed down.
The sky was growing dark as the sun set, light fading over the vast plains to his left.
To his right, the wall of boulders that surrounded his small pond was nearly at its end.
He was as far away from his home as he had ever been before, his territory nearly out of sight, and he stopped walking.
A sense of dread, of doom, of fear holding his legs back.
Balthazar knew he needed to go up that road, for Druma, for his friend, but he could not take another step.