They spent the whole day training at the camp on the nineteenth floor.
"You grip the ground with your toes."
Luca planted his feet wide in front of Miro to show him.
"Bend your knees and drop your hips, like you're putting down roots. Whatever weight you take, you pass it along. Arms to shoulders, shoulders to hips, hips to legs. Then you let it out into the ground."
"...That another technique from somebody's lost stuff?"
"Yes. From the helmet of a man who took the tenth-floor Gatekeeper's tail on his back. He was shielding his friends behind him."
Miro raised his great shield and dropped his hips.
Luca backed off a little, then charged in. [Iron Legs]. He put his whole weight behind his shoulder and slammed into the shield.
THOOM.
Miro's feet slid a full step across the rock.
"Again."
"Yes."
THOOM. Half a step.
THOOM.
On the fifth try, Miro's feet didn't slide at all.
It was Luca who bounced off and landed on his backside.
"...Whoa."
Miro looked down at his own feet.
"With Sturdy, it doesn't hurt anyway. Put this on top of that, and..."
"I think you'll be immovable, Miro."
* * *
Over in a corner of the camp, Celes had her wand pointed at a rock.
She'd had a thinking look on her face ever since last night.
"Pack it tight, then let it go. That's Burst Flame. So what if I pack it tight and don't let it go?"
Celes lit a fist-sized flame at the tip of her wand. Then, gently, she set it down on the rock.
Bang!
"...It let go. I must be in the habit."
The second one burst too. So did the third.
On the tenth try, the flame didn't burst.
A fist-sized flame sat on the rock, flickering. Not too strong. Not too weak. Never dying.
"Thin and long, and never let it die..."
Sweat beaded on Celes's forehead as she watched it.
The flame kept burning the whole time it took Luca to count to a hundred.
"Banked Fire."
"Banked fire?"
"It's when you leave live coals sitting in the hearth so the fire keeps going. That's what we call it at Boss's shop, too."
"...I like that name. That's what I'll call it."
* * *
Night fell.
"I'm opening it."
Miro put his hand on the last lid of the three-tier lunch box.
Don't open the third tier until the night before the Gatekeeper. That was what Martha had told them.
Under the lid, the tier was packed full. Lake hermit crabs, simmered sweet and salty, shells and all. On top of them sat a single folded sheet of paper.
Miro unfolded it. The writing was big and thick.
Hermit crabs: shell and all, medium heat, nice and slow. Now go on and win. —Ma
"...So this is the 'for luck' thing."
Miro started to laugh, then stopped halfway.
He sat there staring at the paper and didn't move for a while.
"...My old man used to say it all the time, ever since I was a kid. Put hermit crabs on the fire shell and all. No high heat, or they get startled and shrink back inside. Medium heat, nice and slow. Then they get too hot and come out on their own."
Miro looked up.
"Hey. The Armor-Eater's a hermit crab, isn't it?"
* * *
The three of them settled back down around the fire.
"Ganz's mage burned it with a strong fire."
Luca laid out what he'd seen in the recall, one piece at a time.
"The Armor-Eater shrank back deep into its shell, dove into the deep water, cooled off, and came back."
"No high heat, or they get startled and shrink back inside... It's just like Martha said."
"Yes. And there's one more thing."
Luca set Ganz's gauntlet and a fist-sized stone side by side on the rock.
"Celes. Banked Fire on both, please."
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Celes set a small flame on each of them, one on the gauntlet and one on the stone.
After a while, Luca touched the gauntlet's fingertips, the part farthest from the flame.
"Hot!"
Then he touched the stone on the side opposite the flame.
"This one's still cold."
"...Iron carries the heat."
"Yes. The Stone-Eater on the tenth floor had stone scales, so your fire couldn't get through to the inside. But the Armor-Eater's shell is covered in iron armor. Lots of it."
Celes's eyes went wide.
"All that iron on its shell spreads the fire. ...The armor it collected turns its whole shell into a pot."
"Yes. A pot."
"But hang on."
Miro folded his arms.
"Once it gets hot, it'll just dive into the deep water and cool off again, right? Then we're back where we started."
"Yes. So we have to stop it from diving."
"How?"
"Once the Armor-Eater grabs iron, it doesn't let go. Even after Ganz shed his armor and ran, it kept hold of the empty armor."
Miro went quiet.
Then he looked at his great shield.
"...Then we let it grab my shield."
Miro laid his hand on the steaming-pot carving.
"It won't let go of the shield. I won't let go of the shield either. Then it can't dive. ...I'll be the anchor."
"Miro—"
"Let me do it. That's what a shield is for."
Luca looked at Miro's face.
Then he nodded.
"Please."
* * *
And so they had a plan.
Miro would stand at the very front of the rock island and bang on his great shield. The Armor-Eater would grab it. Miro would dig in and not let go.
Celes would line the shell with Banked Fire and roast it at medium heat, nice and slow.
Luca would cover the Armor-Eater's eyes with his cast net, so it wouldn't notice Celes's fire. Then, when it came out of its shell, he would find its mana stone with [Sense Presence: Refined] and finish it.
"And if the small claw grabs you?"
"I'll shed."
"...So that's what your [Armor Shed] was for."
Celes hugged her knees.
"A hermit crab that big can't find a shell that fits anywhere, can it? So it sticks armor on and makes its own shell bigger."
"It's adding rooms onto its house."
"...When you think of it like that, I feel a little sorry for it."
"Yes. But the armor it stripped off people goes back to the people it belongs to. I'm a scavenger."
* * *
The simmered hermit crabs were seasoned right through to the heart of the shell, and the meat slid out in one smooth piece.
Luca ate forty. Miro ate thirty. Celes ate five.
By the fire, Miro checked the stitching on his great shield's strap from one end to the other. It was the new strap, the one Martha had triple-stitched.
"...This time, I'm not letting go. No matter what."
He didn't say it to anyone in particular.
The campfire crackled.
* * *
Morning. Luca checked every lace on his breastplate one more time.
Quick-release knots. Side buckles. Shoulders. All good.
Celes held her wand in both hands with her eyes closed. Miro was winding his great shield's strap tight around his left arm.
"Let's go."
"Yeah."
"Right."
* * *
The shallows in the Gatekeeper's chamber were cold.
Up to the knees. Up to the thighs. Around the middle, up to the waist. Celes held her wand above her head, Miro kept his great shield up on his left arm, and they pushed on through the water.
They climbed onto the rock island.
It was flat, about as big as the inside of the Full Belly, its surface rough and lumpy. Beyond it was the black deep water.
Miro took his place at the very front of the island, right at the edge of the deep water.
Celes stood in the middle. Luca stood just behind Miro and off to one side, the cast net draped across his shoulder and arm.
Miro raised his great shield.
He struck it with his club.
Gonnng. Gonnng. Gonnng.
"Wake up, you lousy hermit crab!"
The clang of iron rang through the whole hall.
[Sense Presence: Refined].
At the bottom of the deep water, the huge, curled-up presence slowly began to uncoil.
"It's awake. ...It's coming up. Straight toward us."
"Likes the sound of iron, huh?"
Miro grinned. Even as he grinned, his knees were shaking a little.
But he didn't stop banging.
Gonnng. Gonnng.
* * *
The deep water swelled.
The shell broke the surface and kept rising.
It was huge. It looked as if the whole Full Belly were growing up out of the water. Its surface was plastered with stripped-off armor. Breastplates. Helmets. Pauldrons. Shields. Water poured from the seams between the iron plates like waterfalls.
Thick legs and two claws thrust out of the shell's mouth.
The right claw was as big as a door. The left one was much smaller. Even so, it could easily have pinched a whole person.
Above them, two stalk-like eyes swiveled around.
They found Miro's great shield.
Luca twisted at the waist.
He unwound, letting his arm swing out with the momentum. At the very end, a turn of the wrist.
The cast net blossomed into a circle in midair. The lead weights flew outward. The net floated down over the two eyestalks.
The weights tangled around the base of the stalks.
The Armor-Eater shook its eyes. The net didn't come off. The harder it shook, the tighter the weights wound around them.
"Its eyes are covered."
"Good... Come on, then!"
Gonnng. Gonnng. Gonnng.
Blind now, the Armor-Eater turned toward the loudest sound of iron.
* * *
The right claw came down.
CLANG.
The door-sized claw clamped onto Miro's great shield.
Miro's body jerked forward.
His feet slid across the rock. One step. The edge of the deep water came closer.
"Miro!"
"...Grip the ground... with your toes."
Miro gritted his teeth.
Knees bent. Hips down. Like he was putting down roots.
"Arms to shoulders, shoulders to hips, hips to legs... and down... into the ground...!"
He didn't slide a second step.
Miro's feet had stopped just short of the edge of the deep water.
The leather strap on the shield's grip creaked and groaned.
But it didn't snap. Martha had triple-stitched it.
"Celes!"
"I know!"
Celes pointed her wand at the shell.
"Flame, stay and burn."
A fist-sized flame lit on one of the breastplates stuck to the shell.
It didn't burst. It stayed right there, flickering, burning.
"Flame, stay and burn. Flame, stay and burn."
Two. Three. Four.
On a helmet. On a pauldron. On a shield. One by one, Banked Fires lined up across the iron.
The water on the shell began to hiss.
Thin threads of white steam rose into the air.
Not high heat. Medium heat, nice and slow.
"...Thin and long, and never let it die..."
Sweat beaded on Celes's forehead.
Nine Banked Fires now. Bit by bit, all the iron across the shell was taking on a dull heat.
* * *
The Armor-Eater stirred.
Its legs churned the water. The shell tried to slide back toward the deep water.
It was hot. So it wanted to dive down and cool off.
But its right claw didn't let go of the shield.
"Like hell... I'm letting go...!"
And Miro didn't let go either.
The Armor-Eater pulled toward the deep water. Miro dug in on the island.
With the shield still in its claw, the shell stopped dead. Its legs paddled uselessly in the deep water.
"It stopped...!"
"Miro's being the anchor."
"Told you... I'd be an anchor, a pot lid, whatever it takes...!"
The veins on Miro's arms stood out thick.
Thanks to Sturdy, it didn't hurt. But every bit of that weight was bearing down on his body.
* * *
That was when the small claw moved.
Blind, the Armor-Eater began swinging its left claw around wildly, sweeping it across the island.
And in its path stood Celes, her wand raised.
"Celes, get back!"
Luca threw himself in front of her.
He took the claw on his round shield. [Shield Block]. Crack. His arm went numb, and the round shield was knocked clean off it. It went clattering away across the rock.
The claw stopped.
Right in front of it were the iron studs on his breastplate.
Iron.
The claw clamped down hard on Luca's breastplate.
"Luca!"
His body left the ground.
The island fell away. Celes's face, Miro's back, everything spun around him.
The black surface of the water rushed up at him.
Luca breathed in. Eight-tenths full.
Splash.
Still clutching Luca, the small claw sank down into the deep water.
* * *
"Luca! Luca!"
The flame at the tip of Celes's wand wavered.
On the shell, one of the Banked Fires flickered and shrank.
"Celes, don't stop the fire!"
Miro bellowed it.
"Let it die, and we start over from scratch! Sinking's not gonna kill him!"
"But...!"
"This is the guy who went to the bottom of the Serpent Pool and picked up my shield!"
Miro kept his grip on the great shield and glared at the surface of the deep water.
Not once did his eyes leave it.
"...Trust him. I do."
Celes bit her lip.
Then she tightened her grip on her wand.
"Flame, stay and burn."
The Banked Fire grew again.
* * *
Dark. Cold.
A sharp, needling pain deep in his ears.
The claw gripping his breastplate was driving Luca down into the deep water. The light above wavered and shrank away.
Luca didn't panic.
His breath was tucked away, deep inside his body.
Deep in his head, he heard Ganz's voice.
Armor isn't your body.
If it grabs you, shed your shell.