novelraw Chapter 75: The Female Sorcerer and the Female Warlock
Chapter 75: The Female Sorcerer and the Female Warlock
Garoth did not trust Nick’s words.
Honesty? Trust? These words did not exist in a merchant’s dictionary, especially not for a shrewd merchant like Nick who dared to boast even among wolf packs. If he were honest, Garoth could just as well call himself a benevolent dragon.
Through the old Shaman, he said to Nick,
“Your caravan only has five steam freight wagons that are about to be scrapped, carrying some cheap and useless Chicken Blood Stones. How am I supposed to believe you can bring me black oil and mana crystals?”
After a pause, he added, “Think carefully before answering. You only have one chance.”
The lives of himself and several companions depended on the answer that followed.
Nick’s breath quickened, feeling immense pressure.
The old Shaman before him was hunched and grizzled, without any intimidating aura, yet Nick sensed that those aged, murky eyes hid a mighty dragon, pressing down on him like a mountain.
At first, he wanted to habitually weave lies to gain trust.
But just as the lies were about to escape his lips, Nick stopped.No lie was more trustworthy than the truth.
After a few seconds of silence, Nick took several deep breaths and then calmly began to tell his story.
At eleven years old, Nick held a half-bag of stolen pepper and traded it with a fisherman for a rotten herring, which he then sold to drunken sailors, earning his first copper coin.
At twenty, Nick was the youngest trader in the Emerald Trade Guild. By packaging moldy oats as a special supply from the northern regions, he saved his first pot of gold and formed a large caravan of his own, reaching the peak of his life.
At twenty-five, Nick met Eileen at an auction, a female sorcerer wearing silver-rimmed glasses who captivated him. Like a moth to a flame, he risked everything to win her favor and ultimately married the noble sorcerer as a merchant.
At thirty, Nick woke up beside a foul ditch because the divorce papers arrived more suddenly than a blizzard. Due to the prenuptial agreement with the sorcerer, he lost everything. Ordinary people and noble spellcasters ultimately did not belong to the same world.
At thirty-two, in the Graymane Werewolves’ territory, Nick told his story to survive and make a comeback.
“There is no one in this world better or more excellent than me, the best merchant.”
“I once even sold pleasure toys to the most conservative nuns so they could find some solace in the dead of night.”
“The only mistake I have ever made was overestimating myself and believing in love.”
“But please believe me, I will never make the same mistake again.”
For the first time, Nick reined in the smile on his face and spoke in a serious, solemn tone.
Opposite him, the old Shaman scrutinized him.
Under the gaze of this werewolf, Nick felt his legs weaken, overwhelmed by an inexplicable oppression and fear.
What he did not know was that another dragon was silently observing him. The oppressive and fearful feeling came from the dragon’s gaze—intangible yet tangibly heavy.
After more than ten seconds,
The old Shaman bared its not-so-sharp wolf teeth and said to Nick, “I believe your words, but that is not enough.”
It took out some ink-colored pills and said, “This is poison I brewed. Only by taking it can true trust be established between us.”
Nick smiled slightly, took the pills, and swallowed them without hesitation or doubt.
The others hesitated but ultimately swallowed the poison to stay alive.
Immediately, the old Shaman beckoned, and the middle-aged werewolves carried two cargo boxes over, placing them in front of Nick and opening them.
Nick recognized these as the same cargo boxes that previously held Chicken Blood Stones, but the low-quality Chicken Blood Stones were gone, replaced by a box of dark green scales and another box of herbs of the same color.
“What are these?”
Nick picked up a scale and asked uncertainly.
Even with his knowledge, he couldn’t identify their origin.
“Scales of the Cliff Serpent Dragon and premium poisonous herbs growing where it lives,” the old Shaman said.
It was not lying. These dragon scales were shed during the growth of the Cliff Serpent Dragon, and the poisonous herbs grew influenced by its aura.
Hiss... Nick shivered and threw the dark green dragon scale back.
He had heard of Serpent Dragons.
They were extremely terrifying dragons, whose blood was highly toxic. Ordinary people would die from just a drop.
However, any dragon material meant wealth.
“In one month, I will return along the Serpentine Earth Rift with the black oil and mana crystals you want.”
Nick beamed and said.
After discussing some details, the werewolves knocked Nick and the others unconscious again and carried them away.
When they awoke, they were back where they first encountered the werewolves, with the steam freight wagons intact and two boxes of precious dragon scales and poisonous herbs loaded on them.
“Nick, are you really going to trade with these werewolves?”
Tiefling Margie hesitated uneasily and said, “While in their territory, I vaguely felt deep fear. This is not normal. There must be a big secret hidden within the werewolves’ land.”
Nick smiled brightly and said, “The wilderness is full of dangers. It would be abnormal if they had no secrets or any support.”
He paused, then turned to Margie and said, “Margie, once we’ve earned enough money, I promise to take you to a place without discrimination or prejudice where you can live peacefully.”
Nick had been hurt by spellcasters before and swore never to fall for any sorcerer again.
Yet, he had fallen for a female warlock.
The female warlock spat and said, “I never agreed to live with you.”
Soon after, the caravan set off again. In the night sky beyond their sight, Garoth silently circled, lowering his gaze over the vast and boundless wilderness.
The werewolves lay in ambush along the Serpentine Earth Rift, waiting for the next caravan to arrive.
There were quite a few small caravans in this wilderness.
Garoth did not plan to put all his eggs in one basket, so he intended to control multiple caravans to open trade channels with southern countries and bring back what he needed.
Dragons were covered in high-grade materials.
Garoth could trade with the scales shed from his own body or even his saliva for resources to accelerate his growth.
However, to prevent spellcasters or warlocks from using materials from his body to cast spells and trace him, he would never trade with materials from himself.
“The monster clans around the Serpentine Earth Rift are not just the Graymane Werewolves.”
“If the Howling Moon Clan acts too frequently, it will cause trouble and draw attention from other monster clans.”
Garoth narrowed his eyes and silently thought, “I will ignore others for now. The intelligent clans close to the Serpentine Earth Rift must be under my control.”
He wanted to completely dominate this branch road of the Thousand Serpent Traces.
For safety and future development.
As the night darkened, Garoth ordered the werewolves to gather and organize more intelligence on surrounding clans, then flew toward Needleleaf Valley.
As the saying goes, a cunning rabbit has three burrows.
Garoth often went to Crescent Valley, his second domain, but the werewolves there did not know where he was at other times.
This way, if one day the werewolf clan was attacked by the Lothrian Federation for assaulting caravans, he would have better ways to respond.