November 4th, evening.
As the storm was brewing in the Bloody Arena, Lear received good news.
Macken, the president of the Dragon Fang Trading Company at the Slave Market, personally came to visit the White Crow Commerce Association.
This president, with a kind face and a large belly, was full of smiles.
"Sir, we have made progress on purchasing the Wetland Lizard-men you commissioned."
"Currently, we have gathered a total of 1200 Wetland Lizard-men, acquired from seven or eight slave companies."
"If you need them now, we can deliver them to you by tomorrow."
A hint of surprise appeared in Lear's eyes.
1200 people? Good, good!
With this group, the Cold-blooded Cavalry can immediately undergo an epic expansion!
"Excellent! What is the price for these Wetland Lizard-men?!"
Macken, with his plump, fortune-bearing face, showed a moment of bitterness.
"Sir, although I have tried my best to cut prices, they haven't dropped much; at the very least, each will cost 60 Gold Coins!"
