Epilogue IV ‒ The Long Way Ho
“Big brother?”
The word was a whisper, but it carried across the room like a battle cry.
Kragg’s eyes widened. The haze of sleep vanished in an instant. With a force that defied his bandaged limbs, he sat upright, gasping like a man breaking through the surface of a deep, dark sea.
“Sunshine?!” he choked out.
She crossed the room in a blink, dropping to her knees at his side. Her hands trembled above his wrapped arms—afraid, sohow, that if she touched him he might disappear again.
“I thought—” Her voice broke. “I thought you were gone. I searched everywhere. I tried every village, every ruin, but no one knew—no one knew what happened to you.”
Kragg reached forward, ignoring the pain, and pulled her into a crushing hug. His arms, despite the wrappings and bruises, wrapped around her with a trembling urgency.
“I thought you were dead,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I thought I’d lost everything. You don’t know how many nights I… I thought I’d never get to say your na again.”
The air left Lira’s lungs as his arms wrapped around her with the weight of months lost. His embrace was clumsy, shaking, almost painful. But she didn’t flinch—she buried her face into his chest, and let herself be held.
Lira’s hands pressed gently to his back. “I’m here now,” she said, her voice steadier. “We’re together again.”
Kragg leaned back just enough to see her face. His eyes were wet, though he grinned like a fool. “You’re taller.”
“You’re still covered in blood and bandages,” she shot back with a wobbly laugh.
He coughed. “It’s nothing.”
“Big brother, you shouldn’t be moving this much,” she scolded softly, guiding him to rest against the cot again. “You’re still healing.”
“Nothing matters anymore,” Kragg muttered as he sank into the bedding. “Not now that you’re here. You could say a dragon’s chewing my leg off and I’d still be smiling.”
She sniffed and took his hand in hers. “You big idiot… You don’t ever get to vanish again. Got it?”
“Got it,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across her knuckles.
She squeezed his hand tighter. “From now on, no matter where we are… no matter what happens… we won’t be apart again.”
Kragg closed his eyes for a mont, like he was morizing the sound of her voice.
Behind them, Cupcake Crab watched in silence, perched halfway up a stack of crates. For once, the sparkle in his eyes was softened by sothing less manic, more thoughtful.
“One promise fulfilled,” he murmured under his breath. “One more to go.”
He hopped down from the crates with a soft plop and adjusted the frosting-shaped do on his back. “But before that…”
He trotted down the hall and out into the street. The guild’s front courtyard was mostly quiet now, though the echoes of laughter and fireworks still reached faintly from the direction of the capital.
Cupcake Crab made his way to a small stall tucked beside the alley, its faded sign barely hanging on one hinge. Inside, a giant figure with enormous glasses and an apron made of bone slats was fiddling with a dusty bottle.
“Heya, how are you doing?” Cupcake Crab chirped.
Bone Juice Seller looked up with a sigh. “Well… things are not that great.”
“Oh really?” Cupcake Crab asked, tilting his frosting-covered shell.
“Yes. When the Arena still stood, I had custors by the dozens. Every match, soone would co running for a bottle. Now? Not a single one.”
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“That’s tough,” Cupcake Crab said, glancing at the shelves. “You’ve still got a lot of bottles, huh?”
“Over a thousand,” the man said bitterly. “All thanks to that [Player]. You rember him?”
Cupcake Crab nodded. “Hard to forget.”
“Well, when I sold him a bone juice, I slipped in a little contract rune. Every ti he killed sothing, instead of the creature dropping bones, they’d teleport to my storage room. And oh boy… that guy killed a lot.”
He gestured at the mountain of crates behind him.
“My entire basent iss full. Full! I had to start storing them in the roof. One gust of wind and I’m a bone avalanche away from retirent.”
Cupcake Crab blinked slowly. “But now it’s all just… unused?”
“Exactly. All that beautiful marrow. Wasted.” He slumped. “It’s a sha. Could’ve made a fortune if the Arena didn’t collapse. But what can be done now, eh?”
Cupcake Crab gave a cheerful shrug. “Well, what can be done now, haha!”
He started to walk away, but paused and gave a wink. “Maybe hold on to those bones. You never know when soone might need them for a museum.”
Bone Juice Seller didn’t respond, but his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Cupcake Crab turned back toward the street, tapping his claws together, loosening the flap of his satchel. As he peeked inside, a soft, golden glow spilled out—several ornate keys shimred within, etched with celestial runes, humming faintly with power.
“Well, well, well…”
[Divine Key — Myrrak’s Hollow]
[Divine Key — Shindeon’s Ember]
[Divine Key — Thamutekh’s Hourglass]
[Divine Key — Volkrayne’s Volt]
[Divine Key — Zephryn’s Gale]
He grinned. “Looks like it’s finally ti.”
His little legs carried him off into the rising dawn, fireworks still flickering behind the clouds.
---
[Entering Sanctuary: Glade of Miasmic Echoes]
A ripple of magic lit the forest floor as a swirl of light deposited Cupcake Crab onto the moss-laced soil. He landed with a soft plop and glanced around, completely unfazed by the suffocating dread curling through the woods.
“Hmmm-dee-dum-dee-dee…” he humd, spinning in a lazy circle.
The Glade of Miasmic Echoes was as unforgiving as it was silent. Twisted trees lood overhead like ancient sentinels, their bark curled and flaking like charred parchnt. Long roots jutted from the ground, forming tunnels where the light dared not enter. Pale green mist coiled lazily across the forest floor, hissing quietly as it touched the ground—watching, listening.
Pools of viscous liquid bubbled near the trail’s edge, steaming faintly when stray leaves dipped into their depths. A shattered helm bobbed in one, half-lted. Bleached bones peeked from under moss-draped stones. So bore the curled tusks. Others had too many joints, or eye sockets on the wrong side of the skull—twisted remnants of beasts and kin warped by the glade’s corruption.
Cupcake Crab didn’t seem to notice.
He walked with a bounce in his step and a tune on his lips, sidestepping a puddle that sizzled like acid and offering a cheerful handshake to a vine that reached toward him like a hand.
Then, ahead—at the very centre of the sanctuary—stood a wrought-iron cage wrapped in talon-vine. Inside knelt a figure: small, crablike, with a once-glossy carapace dulled by ti. His shell was patched with moss and scars. He stirred at the sound of approaching steps.
Cupcake Crab blinked once. Slowly.
“…Father?”
The prisoner’s head jerked up. “Yes, my son. It’s . Your father.”
There was a silence. Cupcake Crab stared blankly.
“Why—how did you get here?” he asked, stepping closer.
“I don’t rember,” the captive said quickly, voice trembling. “I was tending the plants, and soone hit from behind. When I woke up… I was here.”
“In a cage?” Cupcake Crab tilted his head.
“Yes! Trapped in this damned thing. Please, please let out…” The captive clutched the bars. “You must free . I don’t belong here!”
Cupcake Crab took a step back.
“Yeah sure, I’m leaving.”
“Wait—what?” the crab rasped, voice rising. “Son, wait! Why are you leaving like this?!”
The smile faded from Cupcake Crab’s face. For a mont, his bright eyes dulled, a flicker of sothing older and sharper shining through.
“If you’re trying to don a disguise,” he said softly, “you should at least know this much: my real father has never once called anything other than a ‘thieving bastard’ in ninety-three years.”
The prisoner froze. The silence sharpened.
“What… are you—”
“Sotis,” Cupcake Crab said, turning away with a smirk, “being a bad son has its perks. Haha!”
“No—no, wait, don’t go! Don’t—”
The creature’s voice cracked into a shriek as his body spasd. His limbs twisted unnaturally, shell splitting, stretching. Horns erupted from the sides of his skull, green scales rippling out to replace the crab shell. His eyes turned slitted and venomous. A forked tongue flicked between needle-like teeth.
The transformation completed with a hiss.
[Myrrak Activated Skill: Poison Mist]
A wave of toxic vapor erupted from his body in a roiling surge. But the cage didn’t yield. The mist curled against the bars and stopped—trapped with him, harmless to the outside.
Myrrak thrashed in his prison, his voice rising into an unhinged screech. “I fooled gods before you were born! You think this cage will hold forever? This fog obeys !”
He pounded the bars with clawed fists, each strike ringing through the forest like a broken bell. The poison mist thickened, clawing at the cage’s edge, failing to escape.
“I will feast on your shell, crab! I will plant my roots in your skull and bloom a tree of pain!”
Cupcake Crab watched, arms crossed, humming again as if the whole encounter were a puppet show at a sumr fair.
Myrrak scread in frustration, fists slamming into the cage walls. “You mocking insect! One day—I’ll have my revenge! One day I’ll win!”
Cupcake Crab blew him a kiss.
“And that,” he said, bouncing away as the mist seethed behind him, “is why you don’t fake family.”
He humd the sa cheery tune, vanishing between the trees, the noxious air parting for him as if unwilling to touch.
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