Drizzle fell continuously. Brent wiped the mud from his face for the third time; his expensive calfskin boots were already caked in muddy water.
This tax official of the Lothern Federation's viscount was full of complaints at the moment: "Damned wilderness... even the air smells like beast dung!"
Behind him, the five warriors disguised as caravan guards had the linings of their armor soaked through by the rain.
"Move faster!"
"If the gifts for those beasts are ruined by the rain, hehe, none of us will have a good end."
He scanned the silhouette of the wilderness through the curtain of rain with a cold gaze.
The wooden crates loaded on the wagon didn't contain trade goods at all, but rather the "Scale-Earth Rift Road Tax Decree" stamped with a Golden Lion Wax Seal—his master, Viscount Ironthorn, was eager to use the taxes from this trade route to fill his financial deficit.
The Lothern Federation was a coalition formed by numerous duchies and kingdoms.
The Duchy of Raymond, primarily composed of human citizens, was one of them.
And Viscount Ironthorn was a noble lord of the Duchy of Raymond, famous for the Ironthorn Magic Plants produced in his territory.
The Scale-Earth Rift Road, a branch trade route located in the Serel Wilderness, had been established by his Family and was assigned to him during his coming-of-age ceremony.
Initially, Viscount Ironthorn didn't care about this branch and left it alone.
However, in recent years, as his lifestyle became increasingly extravagant and his children grew up—their lifestyles also becoming increasingly extravagant—the industries under his command gradually became unable to support the consumption.
Viscount Ironthorn spent some time carefully checking the current status of all the industries under his command.
Then he unexpectedly discovered that the Scale-Earth Rift Road, a branch trade route he hadn't valued, was surprisingly prosperous, with many passing caravans and plenty of profit to be made.
So he continued to send people to investigate, having his subordinates disguise themselves as caravans to operate on the Scale-Earth Rift Road.
As the information was integrated, he uncovered the truth.
It turned out that a Behind-the-scenes Lord of unknown identity had unified the monster clans around the Scale-Earth Rift Road, and under their management and control, the Scale-Earth Rift Road had gradually developed.
After knowing the truth.
Two choices lay before Viscount Ironthorn.
One was to go to war, eradicate the increasingly powerful monster clans, and let the merchants know who the true master of the Scale-Earth Rift Road was.
The second was to pretend not to see and let this Behind-the-scenes Lord continue to manage the Scale-Earth Rift Road, allowing it to flourish, while he could earn money by extracting road taxes from passing caravans.
Viscount Ironthorn chose the second one.
He had discovered this two years ago and turned a blind eye, allowing the monster clans to control the Scale-Earth Rift Road for an entire year.
This was also the best way.
A steady stream, sustainable development.
But.
Because his most valued eldest son was obsessed with Spells and was very talented.
It just so happened that a top magic academy in the human Empire, Holden, opened up enrollment slots for international students.
In order to send his eldest son to the Empire's magic academy for further studies, under immense financial pressure and expectations for his offspring, Viscount Ironthorn began to squeeze his industries, even selling off many of them.
The Scale-Earth Rift Road appeared in his sight once again.
After a year of steady progress, he decided to squeeze the monsters and levy taxes on the monster clans.
The road tax stipulated by the Lothern Federation had a ceiling; although there were many caravans, they couldn't bring Viscount Ironthorn much wealth in the short term. But those monster clans were different. Theoretically, as long as he had the means, he could take all the wealth in their hands, and there would be no legal protection for them.
Through his connections and resources.
After confirming that the Behind-the-scenes Lord of the Scale-Earth Rift Road had no connection to the Lothern Federation and no deep background, Viscount Ironthorn dispatched a tax official, prepared to negotiate with the monsters first.
It would be best if the negotiation succeeded.
If it failed, the trade route's garrison wasn't that easy to deploy, but he hadn't been a viscount for all these years for nothing; he had his own private armed forces.
Letting those ignorant and backward monsters feel the iron fist from the civilized world was also a good choice.
As for the Behind-the-scenes Lord who unified the monster clans.
Viscount Ironthorn didn't take them to heart.
Not daring to stand in the spotlight meant their wings were not yet fully fledged. If it was a very powerful monster, it would be even simpler; he could directly apply to the Lothern Federation for an army to suppress and eliminate it.
Dark, heavy leaden clouds shrouded the earth, and the air was gloomy.
Brent and his party, riding in the disguised wagon, gradually arrived at the Scale-Earth Rift Road. After driving slowly along the road for about half an hour, they saw a tent by the roadside.
The tax official narrowed his eyes slightly and waved his hand, signaling the convoy to approach.
When the Lizardfolk leader lifted the animal skin tent flap, Brent almost recoiled from the stench.
This creature, three meters tall with scales, claws, and fangs, sized him up with amber vertical pupils, its forked tongue hissing: "New face?"
Despite being a monster, its Common Tongue was quite proficient. The pronunciation of the few words was accurate, and although it still had a bit of a lisp, it sounded very clear and not at all muffled.
The five human warriors stood silently behind him.
The tax official puffed out his chest, his face showing no fear of the monster.
He introduced himself loudly and proudly: "The man standing before you is named Brent, the tax official of Viscount Ironthorn."
The monsters looked at each other with no reaction.
Tax official? They didn't understand the term.
Feeling ignored, Brent felt somewhat ashamed and annoyed. As a tax official, he was always met with flattering and fawning smiles when dealing with humans; when had he ever been ignored like this?
He suppressed his anger, gave a light snort, and explained again.
"The road beneath your feet belongs to Viscount Ironthorn."
"All passing caravans must pay a road tax to Viscount Ironthorn."
After a pause, the tax official continued in a deep voice: "And you monsters, who have profited through trade on this road, must also offer your wealth to Viscount Ironthorn!"
His tone was very firm.
But the Lizardfolk's tail was even firmer, whipping directly against the tax official's chest and sending him flying like a broken sack. He landed in the muddy water, covered in filth.
The Lizardfolk leader didn't understand words like "road tax."
But being sent here to trade with caravans proved that its brain was decent.
It understood the tax official's meaning—robbery!
If the Iron Dragon Archon hadn't issued a strict order not to kill people at will, it wouldn't have been a tail whip just now, but a spear piercing the human's heart.
"You, you lot!"
The tax official staggered to his feet, his face pale.
Only now did the several warriors snap back to their senses.
They lacked experience dealing with monsters and hadn't expected these Lizardfolk to attack and injure someone without a word. Now that they had reacted, they immediately stood ready, protecting the tax official behind them.
"Ignorant and savage monsters! Do you want to die?!"
The tax official coughed up a mouthful of blood and roared.
Along with his roar, two red glints lit up on the tarpaulin covering the wagon, like a pair of eyes.
"Rip!" The tarpaulin was torn to shreds.
A humanoid metal creation, six meters tall at the shoulder and cast entirely from steel, appeared in the wind and rain. The rain falling on its cold steel body shattered instantly.
It drew a massive steel sword from its back, runes across its body lit up, and red light from its eyes scanned the Lizardfolk.
Alchemy Golem—The Fearless One.
The true guard of the tax official's trip.
The Fearless One's massive and heavy body stepped forward, standing at the very front.
All the Lizardfolk felt the danger and tensed their backs, their long tongues hissing. In the deeper shadows some distance from the tent, several tall figures gradually revealed themselves.
Armored, heavy-duty Ogres carrying weapons appeared in the tax official's sight.
The red light in The Fearless One's eyes grew more piercing, and the Ogres and Lizardfolk also gripped their weapons.
The tax official took a deep breath, suppressing his fury.
These damned monsters knew nothing of etiquette! Crude, savage, damned!
However, they couldn't just start a war like this.
The viscount hoped to solve the problem through negotiation without bloodshed. They weren't monsters; only at the final moment would they need to tear off the mask of hypocrisy and resort to violence.
The tax official looked at the Lizardfolk leader who had injured him and said coldly: "Bring your higher-level leader who can take charge. You stupid, lowly thing, you have no idea what you're doing! You can't bear the responsibility for provoking this trouble!"
A violent light flashed in the eyes of the insulted Lizardfolk leader.
This kind of creature had always been dark and evil by nature, bellicose and ferocious; they were not to be trifled with.
But when it saw the steel giant standing in the wind and rain, it felt wary. Remembering some rules and instructions within the clan, it could only suppress its killing intent.
Being able to bring an Alchemy Golem here meant this group was not simple and was beyond its scope of handling.
The Lizardfolk leader used a Communication Stone to contact its superior.
Cold rain fell from the sky as humans, monsters, and the steel creation all waited silently in the rain.