Reincarnated as an Apocalyptic Catalyst-Chapter 121: Echoes for Sale

Nythera caught up beside Lucian as they walked. Her expression was still tight with thought, her eyes glancing back toward the settlement where the old creature had spoken. "So," she said quietly, "did that answer your question about trading with them?"

Lucian lightly laughed to himself, "Oh for sure. The direct answer is that there is no answer, they’ll probably just politely string us along with philisophical nonsense until we either start a fight and get summarilly crushed, or wander off into the wilderness to die. The indirect answer is, I don’t think they really care to trade with us."

Vance smirked behind them. "If we offer them questions, and we get more questions in return, I’d say we came ahead in that transaction."

"No thanks, I’d rather be broke," Lucian said.

Nythera gave a faint smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "They didn’t seem hostile, at least."

"No," Lucian agreed, "but it’s hard to tell if they are alive. This is a dungeon after all, they could just be spawns going about their daily lives. I don’t imagine they get a lot of visitors down here, so maybe that gave them time to develop a little culture. The problem is that they all feel like Ronans, and I can’t imagine the pain of doing business with Ronan."

Ronan walked a few steps ahead, silent as always. He stopped suddenly and turned toward them. "You still need supplies," he said. "Mockery will not fill your packs."

Lucian met his gaze. "You volunteering to negotiate?"

"If necessary."

Nythera’s tone softened. "We could try again. That woman, she could probably be reasoned with. We just need to figure out how to speak to them."

Lucian thought for a moment. The town hadn’t attacked them, and that counted as a victory by dungeon standards. "Fine. Let’s try one more time. But if she starts talking about debts and cages again... I don’t know, someone else should probably take over at that point."

They turned back toward the settlement. The air inside was heavier now, not humidity, but a general weighted discomfort in the air. The townsfolk, if that word even fit, continued their slow, deliberate routines, never really acknowledging the newcomers but never turning away either.

The old woman was still seated on her platform when they returned. Her head lifted slightly as they approached, and a faint shimmer passed through the symbols carved into the stone beneath her.

"You return quickly," she said.

Lucian crossed his arms. "You said we could trade. What does that actually mean here? What do you use? Coin, crystal, souls?"

Her eyes flickered. "All things have worth, if you can name their cost."

Vance muttered, "And here we go again."

Lucian sighed. "Alright. We’ve got weapons, tools, a few things that glow. You tell me what you want, we’ll see if it’s worth the trouble."

The old woman regarded him for a long moment before gesturing to a creature nearby, a smaller one with pale scales and thin, black claws. It stepped forward, carrying a shallow bowl filled with translucent stones that pulsed with a soft light.

"These are echoes," she said. "They remember what has passed through this place. They feed on memory. We trade in what you have forgotten."

Lucian let out a long, unfiltered groan.

Nythera frowned. "Forgotten?"

"Yes. You offer pieces of what you no longer remember. In return, we give what endures."

Lucian raised an eyebrow. "W—What?"

The old woman didn’t react. "The dungeon takes regardless. We only give shape to what it leaves behind."

Lucian turned slightly toward Nythera, lowering his voice. "I think they’re screwing with us."

Nythera gave him a look, equal parts exasperated and concerned. "You’re not helping."

"Okay, yeah, this is how I cope, but I don’t trust this one bit. What if the stuff they take from the recesses of our mind is what they use to create some unimaginable horrors to fight us later," he responded, and Nythera visibly cringed.

The old woman’s gaze stayed on him, calm and unwavering. "If you wish to eat, the price will find you. It always does."

Lucian studied her for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "Fine. Let’s make it simple. We need supplies. What can we get without giving up something we’ll miss later?"

A faint glimmer of amusement touched her tone. "That depends on how much you think you remember."

Lucian ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. "Yeah, that’s what I figured."

Vance leaned closer. "So what now?"

Lucian looked back at the others, then at the market stalls. "Now we see if anyone’s willing to trade something practical.."

He stepped away from the platform before the old woman could respond. The others followed, though Nythera lingered for a moment, her eyes lingering on the bowl of glowing stones. The faint light reflected in her gaze, and for a heartbeat she looked unsure, like something deep inside her stirred in recognition.

When she finally turned to follow, Lucian was already halfway down the path, shaking his head.

"Keep it simple. Food, water, maybe a map. Anything else is a scam." He stated to the group.

Unfortunately, everyone they managed to get to talk back to them, all directed them toward the strange woman with the questionable offer. So after hours and hours, they paused in the village center, staring up at the sky, noticing that the sun had not budged an inch since their time there.

"Okay, um, Nythera, how do you feel about trading missing memories for supplies?" Vance tossed the idea out to the group.

"What, me?" She responded sheepishly.

Ronan spoke up, "This is likely our best course of action. The three of us have... Many experiences that could cause issues should this be a trap. You have spent much of your time at the academy and within the city. Once we establish what the true cost is, we can progress forward with my memories, followed by Vance, and then Lucian.

Nythera shifted uncomfortable before her stomach growled and she reluctantly agreed.