Chapter 76 The Devil's Son, Galos's Target
The one-eared werewolf, the leader, strolled over to the truck, sniffed the cargo box, then grinned, revealing a row of gleaming white fangs.
What's inside?
It asked.
Before the apprentice could finish speaking, Nick interrupted him: "Bloodstone, just some cheap bloodstone."
The werewolf ignored him, and with a swipe of its claws, the lock on the cargo box snapped off.
The moment the lid was lifted, the pile of red bloodstone inside was exposed to the sunlight. The color was bright and vivid, but it had no magical fluctuations. It was a low-quality product and had no use to the monster clans in the wilderness.
"Do you have any black oil or magic stones?"
The one-eared werewolf asked in a deep voice, his eyes flashing with ferocity.
Nick's eyes flickered, and he quickly said, "Powerful werewolf, I'm sorry to disappoint you. We didn't choose these goods on this trade trip, but if you need them, I promise I will return here next time with black oil and magic stones to trade with you and offer you the best price."
The one-eared werewolf grinned.
"You wolf cubs! Knock out all these humans and tie them up! Kill any who resist on the spot."
Nick was taken aback: "Wait, wait a minute!"
Before he could finish speaking, the one-eared werewolf slapped him with its paw.
The world is spinning.
Nick's gaze finally settled on the blazing white sky, the screams of his companions and the werewolf's growl echoing in his ears.
With the scarred coachman as a precedent, the others dared not resist, for resistance would only lead to their deaths. They obediently allowed themselves to be knocked unconscious and taken away.
Crescent Valley, territory of the Howling Moon Clan.
Under the dark, velvety night sky, unconscious humans were brought here one by one.
The red iron dragon sat at the entrance of a cave in the shadows, concealing itself, its gaze calm and steady as it looked down at the humans below.
To be more precise.
It is a human being, and a 'son of the devil'.
Garros noticed the antelope-like horns on the warlock's head and her green eyes, and at the same time sensed the strange aura emanating from her, which seemed evil, chaotic, yet also somewhat human.
At first glance.
Garus was puzzled, wondering if a human and an antelope had developed a relationship that went beyond friendship, which led to the creation of this antelope horn sorcerer.
In the next instant, the knowledge from the Dragon's Legacy naturally surfaced, revealing the truth to him.
This warlock is neither a pure-blooded human nor a hybrid of human and antelope. Their race is called the "Tiflin," which in Common also means "son of the devil."
Tiffilin is a human with demonic blood.
They are derived from human blood and look roughly like humans, but their demonic lineage has left a clear mark on their appearance; the horns on their heads and the tails on their backs indicate their alien status.
In the human world.
No, or rather, in the world of intelligent civilization, Tifflin is disliked wherever he goes because of his demonic lineage.
And also because of the gaze, fear, and distrust of others.
Even if the Tyflins are not an inherently evil race, the vast majority of them will go down the evil path, which in turn exacerbates the stereotypes that intelligent beings have about the Tyflins, creating a vicious cycle.
"A discriminated and unwelcome son of the devil, and a somewhat shabby and down-on-his-luck caravan—that's a normal pairing."
Galos thought to himself.
"However, why do these female Tiflins have pupils in their eyes? The tradition says that their eyes are pure color, without any distinction between the whites of the eyes and the pupils."
Red Iron Dragon flicked its tail, looking somewhat puzzled.
Could it be that this Tiflin has some other bloodline mixed in? That's interesting.
at the same time.
The middle-aged werewolf splashed cold water on the group, waking them from their unconscious state.
Through a spell-like mental perception ability, Garros's thoughts were directly transmitted to the old shaman's mind.
He did not show himself, remaining hidden behind the scenes. The old shaman carried out his will, looking at Tiflin and saying, "Son of the devil, your green eyes are more like those of an elf than a Tiflin."
Maggie was slightly taken aback.
She never expected that the monster clan in the wilderness would know her identity.
In her mind, the Wild Monster Clan, though intelligent, had limited knowledge, acted in a barbaric manner, and was difficult to communicate with.
Nick, on the other side, heard the old shaman's words and his eyes lit up slightly.
This old shaman seems different; he knows about the devil's son, he knows about Tieflin, and he possesses knowledge that other werewolves lack, making it seem like he can communicate with him.
As long as we can communicate and negotiate.
Nick was confident that his silver tongue could at least secure his survival.
If you're lucky, you might even be able to establish a stable trade relationship with this werewolf clan and buy their furs, claws, and ores at low prices—a chance to make a fortune.
Businessmen know how to seize every opportunity to make money.
Nick immediately interjected, a smile on his face, explaining for the taciturn Maggie: "Oh, to know of Tieflin's existence, you must be a wise and farsighted werewolf elder."
"She wore a thin lens that could beautify her pupil color, a gadget invented by alchemists that was very popular in the southern countries."
Nick's eyes flickered.
Maggie silently removed her colored contact lenses, revealing a pair of pure, somewhat alluring green eyes.
"If you like these little gadgets, or anything else you like, I can bring it to you and offer you the best price. Of course, the only condition is that you're willing to let us off the hook and give us a chance to build trust."
Nick smiled and said.
It turns out I was just wearing colored contact lenses. No wonder my eyes looked a little strange.
Galos remained impassive, shifting his gaze from the Tifflin sorcerer to Nick.
This ordinary-looking merchant, who exuded a shrewdness, initially did not attract Galos's attention. However, his words, and his attempt to sell and establish a deal amidst the wolves' encirclement, did catch Galos's eye.
"This person might be useful."
He thought about it and then conveyed his thoughts to the old shaman.
The old shaman understood immediately, asked Nick's name, and then cut to the chase: "Human, I want black oil and magic stones. Can you bring them?"
Black oil and magic stones?
What do the monster clans of the wilderness need this for?
The shaman before them, and the one-eared werewolf who had questioned them earlier, both mentioned black oil and magic stones.
Nick glanced around out of the corner of his eye but didn't see any large alchemical golems.
Although some werewolves carry alchemical equipment, these do not require black oil or mana stones.
For example, the steam wagon he used to haul goods this time used fuelstone, a mineral that was cheaper than black oil.
Black oil has more advanced uses. This energy is mainly used for alchemical golems or some large alchemical devices. Magic stones are similar, but they are more efficient at supplying energy than black oil.
"Of course, of course."
Nick straightened his back, even mustering his courage to stand up and brush the dust off the corner of his clothes.
He bowed to the old shaman to express his respect, and then said, "Black oil has a wide range of uses and can be purchased through many legitimate channels in the civilized countries of the south. As for magic stones, although they are a bit troublesome, I can guarantee that I can bring you some."
Galos flicked its tail and narrowed its eyes.
Indeed, things that are hard to obtain in the wilderness can be easily obtained if a channel can be built to the southern countries. For example, the bloodstone, which is common but useless in the wilderness, is a good raw material for jewelry in the southern countries.
Some things.
It might be worthless in its country of origin.
But if you take it elsewhere, its value will skyrocket.
In this process, obtaining a reliable, controllable, and sustainable 'channel' is the most important thing.
"You have earned yourself a chance to live."
The old shaman smiled faintly, bared his fangs at Nick, and then changed the subject, saying, "However, humans are always greedy and untrustworthy, especially merchants among humans."
Nick was startled.
He quickly said, “Oh, I swear by the souls of all my departed ancestors, I am different from other merchants. All those who have done business with me have trusted me because of my honesty.”
(End of this chapter)
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