Chapter 76

Luo Si did not trust Nick’s words.

Honesty? Trust? These words don’t appear in a merchant’s dictionary, especially not in one as shrewd as Nick—who dares boast even among wolves. If he were honest, Luo Si could claim he himself was a benevolent dragon.

Through the old shaman, he told Nick:

“Your caravan has only five nearly Baofei steam cargo wagons, carrying some cheap, useless bloodstone. How can I believe you’ll bring me black oil and mana stones?”

He paused, then added: “Think carefully before you answer. You have only one chance.”

The lives of himself and his companions depended on his next words.

Nick’s breath quickened under immense pressure.

The old shaman before him was hunched, his fur speckled white, radiating no aura of menace—yet Nick felt as if those aged, cloudy eyes hid a great dragon, pressing down on him with mountainous weight.

He had initially intended to weave a lie, to win the old man’s trust.

But as the lie formed on his tongue, Nick stopped.

No lie could be more trustworthy than the truth.

After several seconds of silence, Nick took several deep breaths, then began to speak, recounting his story.

At eleven, Nick hid half a sack of stolen pepper in his arms, traded it to a fisherman for a stinking herring, then resold it to drunken sailors, earning his first copper coin.

At twenty, Nick became the youngest trader in the Emerald Guild, amassing his first fortune by repackaging moldy oats as a northern specialty, and forming his own large caravan—his life reached its peak.

At twenty-five, Nick met Eileen at an auction—a female mage with silver-threaded spectacles who captivated him. Like a moth drawn to flame, he pursued her relentlessly, eventually marrying the noble mage as a mere merchant.

At thirty, Nick awoke beside a sewer ditch, blindsided by a divorce decree sharper than a blizzard. Due to a prenuptial agreement with the mage, he lost everything—ordinary men and noble spellcasters simply did not belong to the same world.

At thirty-two, Nick told his story in the territory of the Graymane Wolfmen, fighting to survive, striving to rise again.

“There is no merchant better or more skilled than I.”

“I once sold pleasure toys to the most rigid nuns, so they might find solace in the quiet of night.”

“The only mistake I’ve ever made was overestimating myself—and believing in love.”

“But please believe me: I will never make that same mistake again.”

For the first time, Nick set aside his smile, speaking with solemn, serious tone.

Across from him, the old shaman studied him.

Under the wolfman’s gaze, Nick felt his legs weaken, overcome by inexplicable dread and fear.

What he did not know:

Another dragon was watching him silently—the pressure and terror he felt came not from the wolfman, but from the dragon’s gaze: invisible, yet crushing in its weight.

After Shiji seconds:

The old shaman bared his blunt wolf teeth and said to Nick: “I believe your words—but it is not enough.”

He produced several ink-black pills and said: “These are poisons I brewed. Swallow them, and only then can true trust form between us.”

Nick smiled faintly, took the pill, and swallowed it without hesitation.

The others hesitated, but in the end, for the sake of survival, they too swallowed the poison.

Immediately, the old shaman gestured, and the adult wolfmen dragged two cargo crates forward, placing them before Nick and opening them.

Nick recognized them as the same crates that had held the bloodstone—but the cheap stones were gone. In their place were a crate of ink-green scales, and a crate of matching herbs.

“What are these?”

Nick picked up a scale, uncertainly asking.

Even with his experience, he could not identify their origin.

“Scales of the Cliff Serpent Dragon,” the old shaman said, “and the finest poison herbs that grow where it lives.”

He spoke no lie. These dragon scales were shed naturally during the dragon’s growth; the poison herbs had grown under its influence.

Sss. Nick shuddered and dropped the ink-green scale back into the crate.

He had heard of serpent dragons.

They were an extremely fearsome breed of dragon, whose very blood was lethal—any ordinary person who touched it died instantly.

Yet any dragon material meant wealth.

“In one month,” Nick said, beaming, “I will return to Scale Earth Rift Road with the black oil and mana stones you desire.”

After further details were settled, the wolfmen knocked Nick and the others unconscious again, dragging them away.

When they awoke, they were back at the very place they had first encountered the wolfmen. The steam cargo wagons stood undamaged, two crates loaded with precious dragon scales and poison herbs.

“Nick, are you really going to trade with these wolfmen?”

The tiefling Magi said, hesitant and uneasy: “When we were in their territory, I felt a deep, unnatural fear. There must be some great secret hidden among them.”

Nick smiled warmly: “The wilds are full of dangers. It would be strange if they had no secrets—or no leverage.”

He paused, then turned to Magi: “Magi, when I’ve earned enough, I swear I’ll take you to a place without prejudice or discrimination—where you can live in peace.”

Nick had been burned by spellcasters, and vowed never to love another.

Yet now he was captivated by a female Shushi .

The female Shushi spat: “I never promised to live with you.”

Then the caravan set off again. Above, unseen in the night sky, Luo Si circled silently, gazing down at the vast, endless wilderness.

The wolfmen lay in ambush along Scale Earth Rift Road, waiting for the next caravan.

On this wilderness, small caravans were numerous.

Luo Si did not intend to put all his eggs in one basket—he planned to manipulate multiple caravans, opening trade routes to the southern nations, to bring back what he needed.

Every part of a dragon is high-value material.

Luo Si could trade scales shed from his own body—even his saliva—for resources that accelerated his growth.

Yet to prevent spellcasters or Shushi from tracing him through his materials, he would never trade anything directly from his own body.

“The monster clans around Scale Earth Rift Road are not limited to the Graymane Wolfmen.”

“If the Howling Moon Clan acts too frequently, they’ll draw attention from other monster clans.”

Luo Si narrowed his eyes, thinking silently: “For now, ignore the rest. The intelligent clans near Scale Earth Rift Road must be under my control.”

He intended to bring this branch of the Thousand Serpent Scar fully under his dominion.

Luo Si narrowed his eyes and silently thought: “Set aside the rest for now; the sentient tribes near Scale Soil and Rift Road must be under my control.”

Night deepened. Luo Si ordered the wolfmen to gather and organize more intelligence on surrounding clans, then flew toward Needleleaf Valley.

As the saying goes: a cunning rabbit has three burrows.

Luo Si now frequently visited New Moon Valley—his second territory—but the wolfmen there knew nothing of his other locations.

Thus,

If the Wolfman Clan were ever punished by the Lothain Federation for attacking caravans, he would have better options.

(End of Chapter)

If the werewolf clan were ever punished by the Lothien Federation for attacking caravans, he had better ways to respond.

(End of Chapter)