The scorching noon sun baked the sand and stones until they were burning hot. Five old-fashioned steam trucks, powered by Burning Stones, chugged along the Scale-Earth Rift Road, their exhaust pipes belching black smoke that the heatwaves distorted into bizarre shapes.
The Scale-Earth Rift Road—a branch road of the Thousand Snake Scars.
It was named for the snake-scale-like patterns that covered the ground.
Nick sat atop the cab of the lead truck, legs crossed, swishing a bottle of low-quality ale in his hand. The liquid shimmered with a cloudy gold under the sunlight.
He was a middle-aged man nearing forty.
He had a thin build, and his face and head were wrapped in white cloth to shield him from the direct sun, leaving almost nothing but his eyes exposed. A light more cunning than a goblin's flickered occasionally in his brown pupils.
"See that? That protruding rock wall over there."
Nick pointed his beer bottle at the wilderness to the front right and said, "Three years ago, I led a team and dug up a chest of Elven Ancient Coins from under there—pure gold, engraved with ancient runes. I turned around and sold them to an old scholar in the Northern Territory for a full fifty thousand gold coins!"
Pah!
The scar-faced driver spat on the ground below.
"Give it a rest, Nick! Last time you said that chest of ancient coins was the Dwarf King's toilet seat!"
He was a dwarf.
He had a thick beard and a short, strong, and sturdy body.
He was missing two front teeth, causing him to whistle when he spoke.
Nick grinned, revealing a row of uneven teeth.
"That was a different chest! The Dwarf King's toilet seat was copper. I soaked it in acid to age it into an antique and sold it to some nouveau riche merchant. That idiot still has it displayed in his house as a family heirloom."
In the back of the truck, the warlock Maggie pulled back the curtain.
Her face was covered by a sand-proof veil, revealing only a pair of sharp green eyes. "Nick, if you're really that good at making money, why are you still driving this pile of junk? You can't even afford to hire guards?"
Nick fell silent for a few seconds.
His gaze dimmed slightly, but he quickly perked up again. He slapped his thigh, causing a few drops of liquid from the beer bottle to splash onto the burning iron roof, instantly evaporating into white smoke.
Nick laughed loudly and said, "Good things take time. What's the rush?"
He downed the low-quality ale in one go. "Once we transport this batch of 'Dragon Blood Ore' outside and sell it, I'll treat you all to drinks at the tavern until dawn!"
"Dragon Blood Ore?"
The young apprentice, Cole, poked his head out from behind the cargo box, his nose stained with Burning Stone ash. He asked in confusion, "But isn't what's in our crates just Bloodstone?"
Nick glared at him and lowered his voice:
"Shh! Keep it down! What's wrong with Bloodstone? Add some dye, spin a story, and it becomes Dragon Blood Ore! Those mage apprentices at the noble schools don't know jack. They can't even tell a lizard tail from a dragon claw, and they think no one would dare deceive a noble mage. They're the best customers."
The scar-faced driver roared with laughter, nearly spitting out the tobacco he was chewing:
"Nick, you're going to get yourself hanged at the city gates sooner or later."
"Hanged? To do business, one must be prepared to die!" Nick snorted disdainfully. "If I were afraid of death, I would have stayed a quiet little accountant at the Emerald Chamber of Commerce ten years ago."
He narrowed his eyes, looking toward the shimmering heatwaves in the distance. "You know? Back when I was in Silverport City, I used nothing but my mouth to sell a ship of moldy grain to an Elven Ambassador. That old geezer even praised me for being honest and trustworthy."
Maggie rolled her eyes, not believing a word of it. "And then? You were hunted by Elven Rangers for half a year?"
"That was an accident!" Nick waved his hand as if to brush away that unpleasant memory. "Besides, didn't I end up alive and well? I even managed to trick that ranger out of his sword and sell it."
Apprentice Cole looked on with admiration, blinked, and hurriedly asked, "Is that true?"
"Of course!" Nick puffed out his chest, then suddenly looked regretful. "The hilt of that sword was even inlaid with a gemstone. Pity it was just glass."
The group burst into laughter. Except for the apprentice, everyone treated Nick's exploits as nothing more than boastful jokes.
The roar of the steam trucks mingled with their laughter, echoing between the rock walls of the Scale-Earth Rift Road.
The hot wind swirled with grit as it swept past. Nick looked at the winding canyon in the distance and listened to his companions' laughter. He couldn't help but recall his past life of ups and downs, feeling a bit complicated, but a smile remained on his face.
Always maintain a smile; a smile can make others lower their guard.
This was the experience a caravan elder had taught Nick when he first started trading at thirteen.
However, Nick soon found himself unable to smile.
Awoo! Awoo!
The howling of giant wolves rang out, rising and falling, piercing the sky.
The smile froze on his face.
"Damn it! Why did I have to run into the monsters and outlaws of the wilderness!"
Nick cursed inwardly, his heart gradually sinking.
The Serel Wilderness was rich in Ore resources, but it was also home to countless Vicious Beasts, magical creatures, and monster clans. The Losern Federation's army would occasionally clear the areas around the Thousand Snake Scars road, eliminating or driving away powerful Vicious Beasts and magical creatures.
However, this didn't work very well against intelligent monster clans.
Because they were intelligent, the wilderness monster clans knew how to lie low, how to endure, and how to immediately flee deep into the wilderness when they sensed danger, only to surge back like a tide once the danger passed.
The Serel Wilderness was vast, and it even housed Legendary-level Vicious Beasts and magical creatures.
The Losern Federation's clearing forces wouldn't venture deep into the wilderness for no reason, as it would bring unnecessary trouble and losses. Clearing the Vicious Beasts and magical creatures around the trade routes every once in a while was enough.
Unless one was willing to pay a massive price, it was almost impossible to wipe out the wilderness beasts.
Furthermore, these Vicious Beasts and magical creatures were themselves a type of biological resource.
As for the intelligent species clans, well, most merchants referred to them as monster clans.
Their numbers were insignificant compared to the Vicious Beasts and magical creatures; only the unluckiest of souls would encounter them. Moreover, they knew how to seek profit and avoid harm; they wouldn't dare strike at a powerful caravan, often choosing only weak caravans with few resources to plunder.
Unfortunately.
Nick's caravan was exactly that—unlucky, weak, and targeted by a monster clan.
Dust flew in the distance as seven or eight grey shadows lunged out from the shadows of the rock walls. Their wolf paws stepped over the burning sand without making even the slightest sound.
"Shit!"
The scar-faced driver spat out the tobacco in his mouth and reached for the short axe under his seat. "It's the Grey-mane Werewolves!"
Nick's heart sank to rock bottom.
Grey-mane Werewolves—they weren't mindless beasts. They were an intelligent clan that understood ambushes, flanking, and even negotiation. They usually struck when they were completely certain of victory, and worse, they rarely left survivors.
Aside from the initial few grey shadows.
Nick focused his gaze into the distance and could vaguely see some Giant Wolf Knights hidden among the thickets, their bodies half-exposed.
If it were just some Kobolds or something similar, it might be fine, but those giant wolves were massive with ferocious claws and teeth. Their caravan's strength was completely unable to cope with them.
Resistance was a dead end; surrender and negotiation offered a slim chance of survival.
"Steady! Don't move!"
Nick growled low, telling his companions not to do anything rash.
A mature werewolf, nearly two meters tall at the shoulder and missing its right ear, pounced forward first, a low growl rolling in its throat.
"We surrender!"
Nick immediately raised his hands, his voice shrill and loud, as if afraid the other party wouldn't understand the Common Tongue. "The cargo is all yours! Just don't hurt anyone!"
The scar-faced driver still wanted to resist, but just as he picked up his axe, he was tackled from the side by another strong werewolf. Sharp claws pressed against his throat and gave a light slash, causing blood to splatter on the spot.
Maggie the warlock, however, was calm.
She slowly pulled back her veil, revealing a pale but steady face.
She had a pair of antelope-like horns on her head that spiraled upward, unlike a normal human. She held both hands flat in the air, indicating she had no weapons and no intention to resist.
When they saw her, the nearest werewolves felt an inexplicable sense of panic and wariness.
But soon, that wariness was dispelled by their innate ferocity. A werewolf violently snatched her backpack and began rummaging through it roughly.
"Careful! There are healing potions in there!" Maggie couldn't help but shout, only to be met with a backhanded strike from a claw. A trickle of blood immediately seeped from the corner of her mouth.
Nick's eyes twitched, but he didn't dare move.
He knew that at this moment, any extra movement was a death sentence.