Time passed slowly.
As the fleet reached a narrower section of the western river bend, the originally calm water surface suddenly exploded into columns of water.
Countless crystal-clear droplets shattered and splashed in all directions.
With a series of clanging sounds, thick, long iron chains were pulled up from the water, pulled taut and locking the river's surface, blocking the path of the Iron Shield Merchant Group's ships.
At the same time.
The Centaurs led by Silvermane emerged from the reed beds on both banks. Their armored front hooves stepped heavily into the shallows, their majestic and tall figures blocking the sunlight and casting long, thin shadows across the river.
"Stop the ships! This section of the river is under the jurisdiction of the Molten Iron Tribe!"
The burly and imposing Centaur leader spoke in a deep voice, his resonant tone sweeping over the hulls of the ships.
Clang, clang, clang!
Blades were unsheathed.
The guards of the Iron Shield Merchant Group drew their cold, gleaming swords. Fully armed, they gripped their weapons tightly, on high alert. Simultaneously, the decks split open, and two Alchemy Golems made of steel rose from within, standing on the deck like iron towers.
A merchant group that dared to trade in lands teeming with Vicious Beasts and monsters...
...were either desperate madmen gambling with their lives or possessed a certain level of confidence.
However, the Alchemy Golems' engines were not immediately started.
Hammer, the manager of the merchant ships, wiped droplets—whether river water or sweat—from his face and appeared on the deck. He first signaled the guards to lower their weapons, then waved to the Centaur leader with a forced smile on his face.
"Let's discuss things properly. Harmony brings wealth, doesn't it?"
"We've had pleasant conversations before; why resort to force?"
The ships dropped anchor and temporarily moored by the riverbank. Hammer's deerskin boots sank into the damp river sand.
He refused the protection of his guards and stepped off the ship alone, walking up to the strong Centaur leader and offering a bottle of fine wine from the south.
Seeing the Centaur warrior accept the wine,
the merchant's tense shoulders relaxed slightly as he asked in a low voice,
"Your Excellency Zakley, why have you stopped us today?"
The Molten Iron Tribe had been entrenched in the southwest for over a decade and frequently traded with passing merchant ships. Among them, Silvermane Zakley was the one who appeared most often.
As a manager of a merchant fleet that traveled the southwest year-round, Hammer was not dealing with Silvermane for the first time.
He knew Silvermane Zakley's style of conduct very well.
This Centaur leader of the Molten Iron Tribe would never intercept a merchant ship without a serious reason.
He had a vague guess as to the cause but feigned ignorance.
A meaningful smile played at the corners of Silvermane's mouth.
"Hammer, why ask when you already know?"
The smile on the merchant's face froze instantly, and he hurriedly waved his hands. "What do you mean by that? I truly don't understand."
Hearing this, the Centaur leader's smile vanished, and his usually friendly expression turned cold and hard.
"The Molten Iron Tribe allows merchant groups to pass through the river bends under our jurisdiction. We regularly clear the river beasts here to safeguard the merchant groups and provide convenience, and we do not charge transit fees. Our only requirement is to conduct fair and reasonable trade with the merchant groups."
He spoke bluntly, in a businesslike tone. "However, recently, several merchant groups have failed to moor when passing through the river sections governed by the Molten Iron Tribe."
"That includes your Iron Shield Merchant Group."
He suddenly leaned forward, his massive frame casting an oppressive shadow that swallowed the frail merchant. "It seems we have been too lenient, making you forget who you are facing."
Behind him, the Centaur Warriors stomped their halberds in unison, the metallic vibration startling countless waterbirds into the sky.
On the hills along the bank, dozens of longbows were already drawn to full tension, their gleaming arrowheads pointed directly at the merchant ship's guards.
Cold sweat broke out on Hammer's forehead, and he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe it. "So it's about this. We didn't see your people the last few times we passed, and we were in a hurry, so we went straight through. Since we've met today, how about we trade at the old prices?"
"Refined Iron Ore, seven hundred gold coins per ton."
Silvermane was straightforward.
"This... we aren't accepting Grey Magnetite Mine lately."
The merchant looked troubled.
Silvermane listed several other types of Ore, but Hammer continued to make excuses and politely refuse.
After a moment of stalemate, the Centaur Commander suddenly changed the subject. "What price did the Golden Tooth Tribe give you?"
The merchant fell silent for a while. Realizing that he couldn't fool the Molten Iron Tribe this time, he stopped stalling.
He spoke frankly, "For example, for Refined Iron Ore, the Golden Tooth Tribe only asks for six hundred gold per ton. The selling prices for other Ores per ton are also lower than yours."
As an old tribe with deep roots that had been established in The Borderlands for many years,
the number of resource points governed by the Golden Tooth Tribe exceeded those of the Molten Iron Tribe. Furthermore, they had been operating for a long time, their processes were more refined, their alchemy industry was advanced, and their production capacity surpassed that of the Molten Iron Tribe.
Besides,
the Goblins didn't mind earning less wealth in the short term. By using methods that harmed others without necessarily benefiting themselves, they engaged in a price war with the Molten Iron Tribe. As long as they could monopolize trade, the current losses were insignificant in the eyes of the Goblins.
Silvermane frowned. "Your spices—we can buy them at one hundred and twenty percent of the market price."
Hammer shook his head with a bitter smile. "The Golden Tooth Tribe gives one hundred and forty percent."
Silvermane fell silent, but he did not let them pass.
The negotiations reached a deadlock.
"Your Excellency Zakley, how about we pay you a transit fee?"
Hammer's voice was very low, almost a whisper, but Silvermane still said nothing. Only the ringing of the river wind passing through the iron chains served as an answer.
At the same time, a deep voice echoed in Silvermane's mind.
"Tell him that the Molten Iron Tribe did not charge transit fees before, does not charge them now, and will not charge them in the future."
This was the mental whisper of the Iron Dragon Sorog.
He was using a Mind Spell to establish a Mental Link with Silvermane, directing this negotiation.
"Noble Iron King, would this be somewhat inappropriate? They are more willing to trade with the Golden Tooth Tribe now. By charging a transit fee, we could at least recoup some losses."
Silvermane asked in his mind.
"Reputation is more important than these petty profits. We must look to the future."
After a short pause, the command came decisively, "Let them go. Let them leave."
Silvermane said no more and repeated the Iron Dragon's words to Hammer.
Upon hearing the Centaur leader's words, the merchant manager's pupils dilated slightly, and a flash of astonishment crossed his face.
"Go. You may leave."
As Silvermane waved his hand, the iron chains blocking the river were slowly retracted, and the archers on the hills lowered their bowstrings.
"Your Excellency Zakley, your tolerance and open-mindedness are unforgettable to me."
A smile appeared on the merchant manager's face as he bowed in respect.
Promptly, he boarded the ship and set sail, leaving the western river bend and heading toward the eastern riverbank primarily controlled by the Golden Tooth Tribe.
After they had gone,
the Iron Dragon stepped out from the dense forest on the south bank, looking coldly in the direction the merchant ships had departed.
"Noble Iron King, are we just going to swallow this insult?"
Silvermane bowed slightly to the Iron Dragon and then asked in a low, somewhat unwilling voice.
"I overlooked one thing."
The Iron Dragon spoke slowly, "The Golden Tooth Tribe has abundant capital. Engaging in a trade war or a price war with them is attacking their strength with our weakness; it is not a wise move."
He admitted that the Goblins' provocations had ignited his competitive spirit.
Faced with the Golden Tooth Tribe's petty tricks, the Iron Dragon had wanted to strike back in the same way, letting the Goblins witness the wisdom of the Dragonkin.
But...
the facts were now laid out before him.
The Golden Tooth Tribe's foundation was deep. Recklessly attacking a strong opponent with weakness would only damage the interests of the Molten Iron Tribe and would not truly hurt the Golden Tooth Tribe.
After careful consideration, the Iron Dragon gradually suppressed his competitiveness. He did not rashly engage in a price war, preparing instead to first listen to Garros's suggestions.
×=×
Look like I overestimated myself. Here are the new goals:
15PS = 1 Extra Chapter.
30PS = 2 Extra Chapters.
50Ps= 3 Extra Chapters.
75PS = 4 Extra Chapters.
100Ps = 5 Extra Chapters.