Chapter 136: Chapter 133: The Arrogance of Humanity

The light rain persisted, with icy droplets tapping crisply on the iron shell of the alchemy golem.

The Fearless stood silently before Tax Collector Brent, his red eyes coldly surveying the surroundings, ready to respond to any potential attack at any moment.

The Communication Stone of the War Lizardfolk chief lit up, and it murmured a few hisses before stepping back.

Soon after, steady footsteps emerged from the rain screen.

Werewolf Mage Frost Fang walked slowly, his blue-gray fur soaked by the rain, clinging tightly to his well-contoured form.

His eyes glowed a ghostly green in the dim light, claws lightly tapping his waist bone staff, making a subtle “click” sound.

“Humans.”

Frost Fang said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

Brent forced himself to straighten his back, despite the lurking pain in his chest.

He stared at Frost Fang, a trace of contempt flashing in his eyes.

To him, mages among the monster races were merely slightly smarter beasts.

“We are here on behalf of Viscount Ironthorn.” The tax collector said coldly, “The Scale Earth Rift belongs to the Viscount’s territory. You must pay the rightful tax to the Viscount for trading and profiting here.”

Frost Fang’s gaze swept over the Fearless and returned to Brent.

“Tax?”

He said in a firm tone, “There is no tax in the Wilderness, only trading.”

As he spoke, Frost Fang’s ears slightly twitched. If one looked closely, there was a small Sound Transmission Stone in his ear.

At this moment, Frost Fang was serving as the spokesperson for Galos.

And Galos came in with a strong attitude.

He prepared to negotiate but knew that when dealing with the other party, you must never let them feel your weakness; otherwise, more severe oppression would follow, endlessly.

Brent hadn’t expected a werewolf to be so strong.

Because the Sound Transmission Stone in Frost Fang’s ear emitted a faint glow and wasn’t concealed, Brent could guess that the werewolf mage in front of him was merely a mouthpiece, with someone else truly talking to him.

And Brent himself was actually also a representative of Viscount Ironthorn.

Standing behind him was the noble lord, Brent did not show any fear and revealed a strong attitude, continuing, “These are the laws of the Lothern Federation! All trade conducted on commercial roads must pay fees to the lord!”

Frost Fang calmly spoke, reiterating the Dragon Lord’s will: “Your human laws do not apply to the Wilderness.”

The tax collector’s face darkened.

“You are challenging the Viscount’s authority,” he lowered his voice, threatening, “If you refuse to cooperate, the consequences will be severe.”

“Is that so?” Frost Fang tilted his head slightly, “Then you can try.”

Brent clenched his fists but ultimately did not act out.

He knew now was not the time for a falling-out.

The Viscount wanted wealth, not destruction.

“Listen, beast.” The tax collector said solemnly, “The Viscount can send troops to purge you, but now is the respectable choice. We didn’t come with the army but are negotiating with you in the rain, showing sincerity.”

He presented the tax levy order before the creatures, rainwater immediately blurring the wax seal of the Lothern Federation.

“Scale Earth Rift, as a branch of Thousand Snake Mark, you profit here, must pay monthly taxes.”

He raised two fingers, saying, “Five Thousand Gold Coins a month! Or equivalent magic minerals.”

“Considering your illegal operation here for years, His Grace the Viscount mercifully waives the small penalties, requiring only a year of back taxes, totaling Sixty Thousand Gold Coins or equivalent magic minerals.”

After a pause, he added, “If using magic minerals for trade, their value is subject to verification and assessment by our people.”

Undoubtedly, this was a lion’s share.

Since there was no further instruction, the werewolf mage fell silent, expressionless.

Opposite, the tax collector half-smiled, saying, “If you cannot accept these conditions, the generous His Grace the Viscount gives you a second choice.”

He said, “On the first day of the month, you pay a single Copper Coin.”

“Then two on the second day, four on the third day… complete a month’s payment, considered as a year’s tax.”

The tax collector showed the superiority of civilized people, saying, “Two choices, the choice is yours.”

“Once you select, we will provide the specific magic contract as a guarantee for our cooperation.”

Upon hearing this, Frost Fang’s eyes flickered.

Copper Coins? That sounded like a very manageable condition.

Compared to the previous demand of thousands of gold coins monthly, it seemed much simpler, while Frost Fang wasn’t proficient in numbers, just feeling this amount wasn’t much, yet believed humans surely didn’t mean well, there was a trap here.

Behind listening to the two choices the tax collector proposed.

Galos subtly shook his head.

Did they think he was a fool? Truly believed Wilderness monsters were all dumb and mindless creatures?

However, since it was negotiation, there was room for discussion.

Initial unrealistic demands were merely for better bargaining.

This trade route was initially developed by Viscount Ironthorn’s family, and if a good discussion could happen, Galos had a long-term vision and didn’t mind letting the opposite party gain a little benefit.

Immediately, Frost Fang received the instruction, saying, “One Hundred Gold Coins a month, this is our lowest acceptance.”

Five Thousand directly cut to One Hundred.

The tax collector widened his eyes, wanting to scold these beasts for not understanding the rules of negotiation.

But considering his mission, he took a deep breath, suppressed his dissatisfaction, and continued negotiating with the Werewolves.

The rain fell harder and harder, with time slipping away bit by bit.

Both parties continued the drawn-out negotiations, probing each other’s true bottom line.

After a period, the Tax Collector had a dry mouth.

He firmly insisted on Three Thousand Gold Coins per month without budging, and demanded a one-time payment of a year’s tax arrears, whereas Frost Fang proposed Three Hundred Gold Coins monthly from now on, with no back payment.

After discussing this point.

The Tax Collector would not yield at all.

Because he represented Viscount Ironthorn, and Viscount Ironthorn had instructed him that Three Thousand Gold Coins along with one-time annual payment was the bottom line, especially the one-time settlement of arrears, must not relent.

Viscount Ironthorn knew that such terms were already somewhat overtaxing the land.

But with the Magic Academy’s enrollment imminent, he needed quick money, sacrificing long-term benefits; not to mention the Wilderness of Scale Earth Rift, he had directly sold off many of his more legitimate properties.

The other side wouldn’t budge.

Frost Fang also firmly held his position.

After wasting another ten minutes.

The Tax Collector, full of impatience, shouted: “Beasts! Enough, don’t be ungrateful! This is already your most dignified choice!”

Frost Fang sneered, revealing sharp teeth.

“Humans! You are the ones ungrateful! We’ve already shown ample sincerity, yet you’re wearing down our patience.”

“The Wilderness is not your territory, you have no privileges here.”

It stepped back, while the armed, towering, imposing Ogres stepped forward, surrounding the group.

Fearless silently lifted the Giant Sword slowly, a fierce red glow in its eyes becoming more glaring.

The atmosphere instantly became tense and confrontational.

The Tax Collector stood in the rain, the cold rainwater gradually calming him.

He exhaled slowly, saying: “It seems we cannot reach a unified opinion.”

“Since that’s the case, let your Lord come to negotiate personally.”

He said coldly: “I disdain negotiating with low-level creatures like you, I require an equal dialogue.”

Self-important.

A Tax Collector, thinking he is equal to our Dragon Lord?

Frost Fang was silent for a second, then mocked: “Our Lord is not interested in negotiating with a servant. If you really have sincerity, wish to solve this peacefully, then send someone more significant.”

Brent wanted to say more, but Frost Fang retreated several steps again.

The armored, towering Ogres stood like a wall, with Giant Wolf Knights encircling, fierce eyes focused on the Tax Collector’s group.

The first negotiation broke down.

The Tax Collector snorted coldly, saying: “We will come again, let your Lord be prepared to receive us.”

He no longer lingered, escorted by Fearless and a few human Warriors, he returned to Scale Earth Rift, away from the monsters.

Both sides gradually grew distant, eventually becoming invisible.

“Damn monsters, can’t understand human speech.”

Brent cursed under his breath.

He disliked dealing with monsters.

These creatures lacked the awe due to bureaucrats, the respect owed to nobility, making him feel displeased.

“Master, why not launch a surprise attack and annihilate these monsters, let them know our might.”

A human Warrior spoke in a low voice.

Brent said with a sullen face: “Viscount’s orders were to negotiate, not to wage war.”

“But these monsters clearly don’t respect us!”

“Humph.” The Tax Collector sneered: “This negotiation was just a probe, let them relish a moment, they will eventually know what true ’respect’ is.”

He looked into the depths of the rain, a flash of ruthlessness in his eyes.

The group did not leave the Wilderness, instead they directly camped at the entrance of Scale Earth Rift, Brent standing inside a hastily erected tent, rainwater dripped from the canvas, pooling into small puddles on the ground.

He took several deep breaths, pondering in his mind, then took out the Communication Stone.

“Viscount, these monsters are very stubborn, ungrateful.”

“Their Lord is willing to renegotiate, but the premise is equality in status.”

Brent communicated with Viscount Ironthorn, reporting the negotiation results.

At the same time, in Needleleaf Valley.

The Red Iron Dragon stood up, stretched its body, its hard Dragon Scales crushing the raindrops falling on itself, then curled up amidst the wind and rain, silent.

Iron Dragon Solrog, Red Dragon Samantha, Elf Dragon Vera are also here.

“They’re not sincerely negotiating.”

Solrog’s gaze was fierce, pupils contracted into dangerous slits, saying: “These humans are too greedy, too self-important, too arrogant!”

Samantha also growled: “A bunch of lowly reptiles dare to extort and rob us Dragons!”

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