White light. A wall of noise. For an infinite second, those were the entirety of Ike’s world.

He held his breath. His whole body screamed in pain. He couldn’t feel his fingertips, except in a dull throb of ache. His Body Reforging Art activated on its own. It drew at the last scraps of his aether, sucking at the scraps like a camel slurping up the last water at a dried-up oasis. Ike stared, waiting for his vision to clear.

A hollow head clattered to the floor. Blackened porcelain and scorched hair. The head had broken in half. Only one half still twitched, the metal rod jutting from that eye.

Lord Nors screamed. There was nothing left to scream with, but he screamed anyways. He rocked back and forth, impotent to do anything else.

Energy gushed out of Lord Nors. The energy he’d built up in his head, as well as all the energy he and Shopkeep had once shared. Ike breathed deeply. He sucked it into his core, replenishing his aether stores. It wasn’t enough to fully refill his core, or even half refill it, but it fueled his healing skill. The pain in his body faded slightly. Ike let out a sigh and tasted burn.

Wisp scurried over to him. She put a forelimb on his ankle. “You look rough.”

“You look like a spider, so,” Ike countered.

“What is this discrimination? This is my ultimate most powerful form!” Wisp returned. The tiny spider bulged, and the usual Wisp emerged from it. She tossed her hair, throwing it over her shoulder, then glared at Ike.

“That’s your ultimate form?” Ike asked doubtfully.

“Well, no. I’m not going to show my true ultimate form so easily,” Wisp said, scoffing.

Ike raised his brows. He nodded. “Fair.”

Lord Nors quieted. He stopped rocking. With a final snap, the remaining scrap of his head broke in two.

Quiet clapping from behind them. Wisp and Ike turned.

Shopkeep stood there, prim as could be. He bowed. “Bravo, bravo!”

Ike grabbed his sword. Wisp bared her teeth.

Shopkeep froze. He looked from one to the other. “Did I say something wrong?”

Ike hesitated, then lowered his sword just an inch. “When people start clapping after a fight, it usually means they’re about to attack.”

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“Oh… I’m sorry. Like I said, we’re a peaceful, merchant town. I don’t know anything about battle etiquette. I only know to clap when something wonderful happens.” Explaining himself, Shopkeep nonetheless lowered his hands and ceased clapping.

“You’re really not going to attack us?” Wisp asked, still wary.

“No, not at all. I’m very happy with your performance. Ah! What was it that I owe you? The treasury? Right this way, right this way.” Shopkeep gestured. He turned.

Everyone stared. Ike, Wisp, Shopkeep. Nothing but barren ground stretched from here to the wall. Not so much as a scrap of a single building remained.

Ike coughed. “Er… whoops?”

“To be fair, Lord Nors was being really obnoxious with that castle. He kept throwing the whole thing at us. I think you did the right thing,” Wisp defended him.

“Really? Even if I blew the treasure away, too?” Ike asked, surprised.

“Well… that part needs some work. Next time, blow away everything but the treasure,” Wisp instructed him firmly.

Ike kicked his heels together and snapped a salute. “Yes, ma’am!”

Wisp nodded. “Yes, yes. Finally, I’m receiving the respect I deserve.”

Shopkeep chuckled, a small smile on his lips. “No worries, everyone. In the heat of the fight, I stole away some of Lord Nors’ power. Naturally, I’m no fool. When I saw the way the battle was going, I secured the treasury for myself and drew it underground.” He clapped twice, prim and proper.

Stone ground on stone. Earth rumbled. From deep in the earth, a boxy stone room rose to the surface. Dust poured off its roof. It shoved rubble aside as it rose. At last, it came to a halt. A pair of thick iron doors blocked the entrance, and the shimmer of enchantments wound around its outside.

“Then, as we agreed.” Shopkeep clapped again. The enchantments went dark, and the doors ground open. The glittering treasure of the realm shone in the stormy light, free for the taking.

“No way. Really?” Wisp asked.

Ike snorted. “We had a deal, you know.”

“Right, but he really handed it over?”

“If he didn’t, we could’ve just headed back downstairs and taken his heart,” Ike pointed out.

“Quite so. A fantastic example of leverage,” Shopkeep agreed, nodding.

“Even so… I really thought we were going to have to do that. He just handed it over!” Wisp exclaimed, shocked. She stared, then shook her head and slapped her cheeks. “Let’s not stand here. Come on! Gold is a-waiting!”

“And skills!” Ike reminded her. He paused and looked at Shopkeep. “Er, you said you wanted to keep some for yourself?”

Shopkeep nodded. He leaned in. “Between you and me, I’ve already hidden that elsewhere. Feel free to take all that I’ve left. Or leave some, as you wish. I won’t force you to take on all the garbage we’ve stored up over the centuries.”

Ike snorted. What a wily old fox. He nodded. “I won’t hold back, then. Thank you, Shopkeep. I do appreciate you upholding your end of the bargain.”

“And I appreciate you not stabbing my heart!”

Ike and Shopkeep both threw back their heads and laughed.

“Hey! Slowpoke! I’m going to steal all the good loot, you okay with that?” Wisp called from the depths of the treasury.

“Hey—wait up!” Ike charged in, chasing after Wisp.

Watching them go, Shopkeep smiled. Not a false, customer-service smile, but an earnest one. “To see such lively faces in my city again…”

He paused, then lifted his head and took in the wasteland. A dry wind blew, stirring the dust. Pebbles knocked against one another. A few lonely old trees clung to life, and the rest had become splinters, dust, and memories.

A wry chuckle escaped his lips. “Not that it’s much of a city right now.”