Chapter 61: You Did a Great Job Today
For the next while, the riverbank echoed with the clinking and clanking of their work.
The two of them had a clear division of labor.
Lance was in charge of prying open the carapaces and sawing off the claws with brute force. It was physical labor only he could handle.
Cecilia, on the other hand, had to endure the foul stench while searching for the yellow stones within the viscous body cavities.
Lance’s hands moved quickly. The Skinning Knife seemed to have a life of its own, each cut precisely striking the weakest joints of the crab shells.
In contrast, Cecilia, working beside him, seemed somewhat absent-minded.
She mechanically rinsed a freshly excavated yellow stone in the river and placed it in her collection pouch.
But her mind was still on the battle that had just taken place. The more she replayed it, the more incredible she found her senior to be.
"Senior..."
The maiden hesitated for a long time before she finally couldn’t resist asking.
Her voice was soft, as if laced with a certain confusion.
"When those twenty-something Stone Shell River Crabs were charging at us, it was so terrifying... Why weren’t you scared at all?"
She recalled the moment a giant claw, powerful enough to shatter rock, had come whistling through the air and slammed into his Shield.
Cecilia subconsciously imagined herself in his place.
If she had been the one standing there, that single blow would have likely shattered her bones, if not killed her outright.
She thought her senior must have some special trick for overcoming Fear.
"I was scared. Of course I was."
Lance’s reply was swift, his hands not pausing in their work for even a moment.
"I was scared to death."
"Huh?"
Cecilia froze, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Her family elders had always taught her that the strong should never admit their Fear.
’Isn’t being afraid a sign of weakness? An undesirable quality to be cast aside?’
’So why did her senior admit it so freely?’
Just as her brain was short-circuiting, Lance pried open another carapace.
"It’s precisely because I was afraid of being torn to shreds by those claws that I took the time to carefully observe the width of that rock crevice before the fight."
"I had to make sure the gap was narrow enough that only two Demons could attack me at once."
Lance tapped his temple with a gloved finger.
"It’s also because I fear death that I never dare to underestimate any Demon. Whether it’s the lowest-level Slime or a Goblin, I treat every fight with the same seriousness as a lion hunting a rabbit."
"Fear isn’t shameful."
"On the contrary, it keeps you sharp. It makes you think about your escape route before you even swing your sword."
’So, in his eyes, Fear isn’t weakness?’
’It’s a driving force for survival?’
In that brief moment, Cecilia suddenly felt her soul resonate, ever so slightly, with the soul of the man before her.
The connection was fleeting, like a fine thread that brushed against something for an instant before snapping.
She felt as if she understood something, yet it remained just out of her grasp.
What Cecilia didn’t know was that the souls of the Elf Race, while pure and clear, lack a certain turbulence. Thus, when their Flowering Stage arrives, they develop a yearning to become whole.
The more conventional, noble, and elegant an Elf, the more they are drawn to vastly different souls. This was the very reason Hill worried about her getting involved with the wrong sort.
By the time Cecilia had finally gathered the fifteen quest items, six pairs of processed crab claws were stacked at Lance’s feet.
"That should be enough."
Lance stood up and shook his slightly sore wrists.
"The last task is right under our feet."
"Streamlight Stone is a special kind of Companion Ore. These Stone Shell River Crabs love to lie on them and bask in the sun, absorbing their trace elements to strengthen their shells."
He rummaged for a moment in a pile of rocks on the riverbank before picking up a white stone with a faint, mica-like pattern on its surface.
"When ground into a powder, it’s an excellent Catalyst for crafting light-producing Magic Items."
With a physical sample to reference, Cecilia quickly learned how to identify them.
The two of them hunched over, busying themselves on the gradually darkening riverbank for a while longer.
By the time the clouds on the horizon were painted a brilliant golden-red, all three requests were finally complete.
It was time to head back.
With deft movements, Lance used the rope he’d brought to stack the three giant Petrified Crab Shells together and tie them securely to his back.
From a distance, it looked like he was carrying a giant turtle shell.
Once his own load was secured, he turned to look at Cecilia.
"Turn around."
Cecilia obediently turned around.
Lance picked up two of the smaller shells and threaded a rope through the holes at their edges.
He tied one to the back of the maiden’s pack, then hung the other across her chest.
As he tightened the knots, the once-slender Half-Elf Maiden instantly looked a size bigger.
With one shell strapped to her chest and another on her back, she looked exactly like a newly hatched tortoise.
But as comical as she looked, it was the best way to free up her hands and maintain her balance while walking.
Lance took a couple of steps back and, in the fading light of the sunset, took a good look at the maiden before him.
Cecilia no longer bore any resemblance to the delicate girl who had first arrived.
Her grayish-brown, coarse-spun cloak was covered in stains, with several snags from hiding in the bushes.
Her once-white gloves were now a dingy gray, caked with crab fluids and sludge.
Her leather boots were in even worse shape, encased in a layer of cracked, dried mud.
To make work easier, she had lowered the hood she always wore, revealing her somewhat messy silver hair.
The maiden had her head down, clumsily but forcefully tying the rope at her waist, trying to secure the heavy shell on her chest.
At some point, she had acquired a few black smudges on her face—the likely result of wiping away sweat without taking off her gloves. She looked like a little kitten that had just crawled out of a chimney.
She exuded an air of innocent earnestness that was both comical and endearing.
As Lance watched her, a gentle smile involuntarily touched his lips.
He shook his head slightly, silently chiding himself.
’I really have been looking at her with prejudiced eyes.’
’My attitude has changed so many times today.’
’From initial resistance and disdain, to realizing my own error, and now to seeing her in a new light.’
’It just goes to show, you should never underestimate anyone’s determination.’
’This seemingly fragile maiden has adapted to this environment even better than I did back in the day.’
"Cecilia."
Lance said suddenly.
The maiden looked up, her small, dirty face filled with confusion.
"You did a great job today!"
Lance’s tone was sincere. He extended his right hand and gave the maiden a big thumbs-up.
Hearing his praise, Cecilia’s eyes instantly curved into crescents as a heartfelt, happy smile spread across her face.
But then, her gaze fell on Lance’s strange hand gesture.
It was a fist, with only the thumb extended and pointing upward.
"Senior, does this gesture... have some kind of special meaning?"
’She’s never seen this before?’
Lance froze for a second, then realized it was likely a cultural difference between their two worlds.
He chuckled and explained, wiggling his thumb in the light of the setting sun.
"Where I’m from, if you think someone has done something great, something amazing, you can show them this gesture."
"It represents the highest praise and approval."
"Oh, so that’s what it means!"
Realization dawned on Cecilia.
She looked at Lance’s raised thumb, her eyes sparkling.
Then, she mimicked Lance, extending her own grimy hand and forcefully giving him a thumbs-up of her own.
The maiden’s voice, clear and pleasant, echoed across the empty riverbank.
"Then, Senior, you were great today, too!"
"Super great!"
The evening breeze swept across the riverbank, tousling the maiden’s silvery-white hair. A few stray strands playfully brushed against her mud-splattered but joyful face.
In that moment, the golden-red sunset seemed to cast a soft, warm frame around the touching scene.