The lead One-eared Werewolf paced over to the wagon, his nostrils twitching as he sniffed the cargo box. He then pulled back his lips, revealing a row of pale, sharp fangs.
"What is inside here?"
He asked.
"Dra— Dragon blood—" Before the apprentice could finish, Nick interrupted him: "Bloodstone. It's just some cheap Bloodstone."
The werewolf ignored him. With a swipe of his claws, the cargo box's latch snapped.
The moment the lid flipped open, the red Bloodstones piled inside were exposed to the sunlight. Their color was vivid and bright, but they possessed no fluctuations of magic. They were purely low-quality goods, useless to the monster clans of the wilderness.
"Is there any black oil or Demonic Energy Stones!"
The One-eared Werewolf asked in a low voice, a fierce light glinting in his eyes.
Nick's eyes flickered as he hurriedly said, "Mighty werewolf, I have disappointed you. Our merchant caravan did not choose those goods for this trip. But if you need them, I guarantee that next time I will return here with black oil and Demonic Energy Stones to trade with you, and I will give you the most favorable price."
The One-eared Werewolf grinned.
"Wolf pups! Knock all these humans unconscious and tie them up! Kill anyone who resists on the spot."
Nick was stunned: "Wait, wait!"
Before he could finish his sentence, the One-eared Werewolf struck him with a paw.
The world spun.
Nick's vision finally froze on the blazing white sky, his ears echoing with the startled cries of his companions and the low growls of the werewolves.
With the Scarred-face Driver as a cautionary example, the others did not dare to resist. Besides, resistance was a dead end anyway, so they were obediently knocked out and tied up.
Crescent Moon Valley, Howling Moon Clan territory.
Under a night sky like black velvet, the unconscious humans were brought here one by one.
The Red Iron Dragon sat at the entrance of a cave on the backlit rock wall, hiding his figure. His gaze was calm as he sat behind the scenes, silently looking down at the humans below.
More accurately.
It was humans, and a 'Child of the Devil'.
Garros noticed the antelope-like horns on the sorceress's head and her green eyes. At the same time, he felt a strange aura radiating from around her—it felt like evil, like chaos, yet it also carried a hint of humanity.
At first glance.
Garros was somewhat confused, wondering if some human and an antelope had formed a relationship that transcended friendship, resulting in the birth of this horned sorceress?
In the next instant, the dragon heritage naturally surfaced the corresponding knowledge, letting him know the truth.
This sorceress was not a pure-blooded human, but she wasn't a half-breed born of a human and an antelope either. Their race was called [Tiefling], which in the Common Tongue also meant—Child of the Devil.
Tieflings were humans possessing devil Bloodlines.
They were derived from human Bloodlines and generally looked like humans, but the devil Bloodline also left clear marks on their appearance. The horns on their heads and the tails behind them all indicated their status as outsiders.
In the human world.
No, rather, in the world of intelligent civilizations, Tieflings were unwelcome wherever they went because of the devil Bloodline they carried.
And because of the stares, fear, and distrust of others.
Even if Tieflings were not a naturally evil race, the vast majority of them would end up on an evil path, which in turn reinforced the stereotypes intelligent beings had about Tieflings, forming a vicious cycle.
"A discriminated and unwelcome Child of the Devil, and a somewhat shabby and down-and-out merchant caravan—this combination is actually quite normal."
Garros thought to himself.
"However, why do this female Tiefling's eyes have pupils? The Legacy says their eyes are solid colors, without distinctions like whites or pupils."
The Red Iron Dragon flicked his tail, feeling somewhat puzzled.
Could it be that this Tiefling had other Bloodlines mixed in? Interesting.
At the same time.
A prime-aged werewolf splashed cold water on the group, startling them awake from their unconscious state.
Through the Spell-like Ability Thought Sensing, Garros's thoughts were transmitted directly into the Old Shaman's mind.
He did not show his face, still remaining hidden behind the scenes. The Old Shaman executed his will, looking toward the Tiefling and saying, "Child of the Devil, your green eyes look more like an elf's than a Tiefling's."
Maggie was slightly taken aback.
She hadn't expected that a monster clan in the wilderness would know her identity.
In her impression, although wilderness monster clans possessed intelligence, their knowledge was shallow, their style of action was barbaric, and they were difficult to communicate with.
On the other side, Nick heard the Old Shaman's words, and his eyes lit up slightly.
This Old Shaman seemed a bit different. He knew of the Child of the Devil, he knew of Tieflings, and he possessed knowledge that other werewolves lacked. It seemed communication was possible.
As long as they could communicate and negotiate.
Nick was confident that with his silver tongue, he could at least trade for a chance to live.
If luck was on his side, he might even establish a stable trade connection with this werewolf clan, purchasing their furs, fangs, and Ores at low prices. This was a chance to make a fortune.
A merchant knows how to dig for every opportunity to make money.
Nick immediately chimed in, a smile on his face as he explained for the taciturn Maggie: "Oh, to know of the existence of Tieflings, you are clearly a wise and far-sighted werewolf elder."
"Her eyes are wearing a type of thin film that can beautify the color of the pupils, a little gadget invented by Alchemists that is very popular in the Southern Kingdoms."
Nick gave her a look.
Maggie silently removed the colored contacts, revealing a pair of solid-colored, somewhat bewitching green eyes.
"If you like such gadgets, or have anything else you like, I can bring them for you and give you the most favorable price. Of course, that is provided you are willing to let us go and give us a chance to build trust."
Nick said with a smile on his face.
"So she was just wearing colored contacts. I was wondering why her eyes looked strange."
Garros remained impassive, his gaze shifting from the Tiefling sorceress to Nick.
This ordinary-looking merchant, who radiated a sense of shrewdness, hadn't initially attracted Garros's attention. However, his performance—attempting to sell and establish a trade even while surrounded by wolves—caught Garros's interest.
"This person might be useful."
He thought, then transmitted the idea to the Old Shaman.
The Old Shaman understood. He asked for Nick's name and then got straight to the point: "Human, I want black oil and Demonic Energy Stones. Can you bring them?"
black oil and Demonic Energy Stones?
What would a monster clan in the wilderness want with those?
The Shaman before him, as well as the One-eared Werewolf who questioned them earlier, both mentioned black oil and Demonic Energy Stones.
Nick scanned the surroundings with the corner of his eye but didn't see any large-scale Alchemy Golems.
Although some werewolves wore alchemy equipment, none of it required black oil or Demonic Energy Stones.
For example, the Steam Wagon he used to haul goods this time used Fuel Stone, a type of Ore even cheaper than black oil.
The use of black oil was more Advanced; this energy source was mainly for Alchemy Golems or some large-scale alchemy devices. Demonic Energy Stones were similar, and their energy efficiency was even higher than black oil.
"Of course, of course."
Nick straightened his chest and even plucked up the courage to stand up, patting the dust off the corner of his clothes.
He bowed to the Old Shaman to express respect and then said, "black oil has a wide range of uses and can be purchased through many formal channels in the civilized Southern Kingdoms. As for Demonic Energy Stones, although they are a bit more troublesome, I can guarantee I can bring some for you."
Garros's dragon tail flicked lightly, his eyes narrowing slightly.
As expected, things that were difficult to obtain in the wilderness could be easily acquired if a channel to the Southern Kingdoms was established. Just like the Bloodstones that were ubiquitous and useless in the wilderness but were decent raw Materials for jewelry in the Southern Kingdoms.
Some things.
Might be worthless at their place of origin.
But take them somewhere else, and their value would immediately skyrocket.
And in this process, obtaining a reliable, controllable, and sustainable 'channel' was the most important thing.
"You have earned yourself a chance to live."
The Old Shaman gave a faint smile, baring his fangs at Nick, then changed his tone: "However, humans are always insatiable and untrustworthy, especially the merchants among humans."
Nick was startled.
He hurriedly said, "Oh, I swear by all my departed ancestors' Souls that I am different from other merchants. Everyone who has traded with me trusts me implicitly because of my honesty."