Chapter 138: Chapter 135: Frightened Galos: Why Are You Forcing Me?!

Raymond Duchy, Thorn Territory, the moonlight shines brightly.

Viscount Ironthorn stood on the castle terrace, his short gray-white hair glinting subtly under the moonlight.

His posture was as upright as a sword, and the years had etched a few dignified lines on his sharply defined face, yet it did not diminish his aura in the least. His cold gray eyes squinted slightly, like two unsheathed daggers, scrutinizing the night outside the window.

It was the look he had during the border wars in his youth, now instinctively resurfacing whenever he faced any threat.

Viscount Ironthorn was already approaching fifty this year.

However, he himself was an advanced warrior, and his title was not solely inherited from his family, and with proper maintenance, he looked as if he were not yet forty.

“A bunch of beasts, far more cunning than I expected.”

Viscount Ironthorn sneered and said.

The viscount’s eldest son, Edmund, was also by his side.

This young caster stood in the shadow behind his father, his silver-gray mage robe swaying gently with the castle’s draft.

He inherited his father’s tall stature, but his skin was not the warrior’s bronze hue; rather, it was the fair complexion unique to scholars, with occasional flashes of light in his eyes—a feature developed from long-term study of magic.

Under his short, golden hair, a pair of light blue eyes shimmered with a dangerous curiosity and the pride of youth.

“Father, why waste time with a bunch of monsters?”

Edmund’s voice carried disdain and scorn: “Just send the army to crush them; can they possibly withstand your private army?”

Viscount Ironthorn squinted, his gaze sweeping over the training ground outside the window.

There, many knights were training, the thorn patterns engraved on their armor reflecting a cold light in the moonlight.

In the distance, several alchemy golems stood quietly, their massive bodies casting dense shadows against the ground.

“Edmund, remember this—”

The Viscount began slowly, “War is not our goal; don’t be rash.”

“However, to deal with beasts, you must first let them know who the master is.”

He turned around, pulling out a roll of parchment from the desk, densely recording the trading data of the Scale Earth Rift that he had collected.

“Behind these monsters is a so-called ’lord,’ able to unite barbarian races like the War Lizardfolk and Ogres, even understanding trade, capable of enforcing discipline and possessing counterintelligence awareness.”

The Viscount tapped on the parchment with his fingertip: “This shows it’s not simple.”

Edmund said, “No matter how clever, they’re still beasts.”

The young caster raised his hand, a flickering flame appearing in his palm, saying: “The admissions to the Azure Sky Academy require not only wealth but also a spell assessment. I just need an experience like this, a wilderness journey that can enhance my spell power.”

Viscount Ironthorn looked at his son, a satisfied smile appearing on his lips.

A true noble is not a fool hiding in a castle indulging in debauchery, but a warrior who dares to challenge themselves, faces danger, and fights.

He was very pleased with his eldest son.

“Very well, you shall go for the negotiations, bring the private army with you.”

“If they are sensible, then drain their wealth.”

“If they are not…” the Viscount’s voice turned cold: “Then let them understand what the iron fist of civilization means.”

Edmund gracefully performed a standard noble salute.

“I will make them kneel and offer their treasures, Father.”

He said so.

The eldest son’s voice was filled with excitement as he withdrew, preparing for the upcoming wilderness journey.

“Bain, accompany Edmund and guard by his side.”

The Viscount spoke in a low voice.

A gentle breeze blew by, and in the shadows beside him appeared a middle-aged man, dressed simply, his skin rough as if weathered by storms.

He was a martial monk of traditional combat training.

In general, martial monks do not care much about personal vanity or wealth.

They believe that the whole of life is a trial against oneself.

No matter how many obstacles lie ahead, martial monks delight in exerting all their strength to overcome difficulties, not for show but to test themselves.

Bain was also undergoing this life trial.

He was congenitally weak, constantly sick from a young age. His already poor family could not afford it, abandoning him during a severe illness. He was later adopted by the father of Viscount Ironthorn and sent to a monastery to study.

Bain lived up to expectations.

Though inherently weak, his will was extraordinarily strong. His childhood illnesses forged a will of iron, and he gradually grew into a powerful martial monk, pledging loyalty to the Ironthorn Family, later following today’s Viscount Ironthorn.

The two were master and servant, but having grown up together, they were also like brothers.

Yet, to Viscount Ironthorn, there were many such ’brothers.’

“Hmm.”

Bain nodded heavily in agreement, then his figure flickered, disappearing.

Meanwhile, in the Sel Wilderness, north of Shattered Stone Beach.

Amidst the curtain of rain, five shadows gradually emerged, each three meters tall, their skin resembling dried mud, covered in cracked patterns, with deformed long arms dangling to the knees.

Behind them followed smaller shadows, totaling about twenty.

The outpost previously destroyed by a Behemoth has already been rebuilt, with more stationed guards, stronger in force.

They detected the approaching trolls in advance, closing in on the territory belonging to the Molten Iron Clan.

Soon after.

The garrison assembled, launching an attack, and surrounded the trolls with numerous monsters.

“A group of trolls from the Eternal Frost Tundra?”

Galos looked at the Iron Dragon.

“Yes, they call themselves the Steelback Clan. For a long time, they lived in the Eternal Frost Tundra, but as the war between the White Frost Alliance and the War Cry Clan grew more intense, their territory got caught in the aftershocks of war and was destroyed by the White Frost Alliance.”

“The mage within the clan felt uneasy about the future, so they led the clan to migrate to the Sel Wilderness. Originally, about a hundred trolls, their numbers dwindled during the migration, ultimately leaving only a little over twenty.”

Solrog explained in detail.

Such matters ordinarily would not be specifically brought to disturb Galos.

However, due to the recent events at the Scale Earth Rift, Galos, foresightedly, prepared an escape route for himself. The Eternal Frost Tundra in the north was one of his choices, so he asked the Iron Dragon to explain matters concerning the Eternal Frost Tundra.

“What’s the current state of the giants from the Steelback Clan?”

“Captured and held at the Shattered Stone Beach Camp.”

Immediately, before the topic of giants could continue, both Galos and the Iron Dragon paused and drew out a Communication Stone from their scale armor.

An urgent message came through.

Viscount Ironthorn sent his eldest son, demanding the lord of the Molten Iron Clan to come forward for more formal negotiations.

In some wilderness near the Scale Earth Rift, a half-collapsed ancient stone pavilion was cleared temporarily as a negotiation venue.

Led by Kalu, the monsters of the Molten Iron Clan were already present.

Fully armored ogres, knights of various clans riding fearsome beasts, and mages stood quietly there, with dangerous glints suppressed in their eyes.

Heavy footsteps echoed from the horizon.

The Thorn Knights appeared first, clad in dark red armor, with the thorn emblem of the Ironthorn Family engraved on their breastplates. Each face armor was crafted into the shape of a roaring wolf’s head, with exquisite alchemy longswords hanging at their waists.

Though they were not as tall and strong as the ogres,

the aura they emitted was almost on par with that of the ogre warriors.

Following them were five alchemy golems.

One among them was the Fearless, while the other four differed vastly in model and appearance, but without exception, they were tall and mighty steel constructs—each step they took made the ground tremble.

Finally, at the end, came Edmund himself.

He rode atop the shoulder of a Frost Giant, his silver-gray mage robe fluttering in the wind.

The Frost Giant’s skin was corpse-like pale, its body shriveled, and its eyes glowed an unnatural blue—clearly not in a normal state, lifeless and eerie.

“It seems our ’beast friends’ are taking this meeting quite seriously.”

Edmund swept a disdainful gaze over the ogre formation, “But unfortunately, numbers can’t make up for the gap in civilization.”

The Tax Collector Brent showed a fawning smile and nodded repeatedly, “Young master is right, young master speaks well.”

Not long after.

The young caster riding the Frost Giant, escorted by knights and golems, entered the stone pavilion.

The Gorging Demon Kalu, disguised as the lord, sat imposing on the other side of the stone table.

Its entire body was covered in custom black iron armor by Samantha, only two flickering red lights showed through the eye slits, exuding an aura of primitive and savage strength.

“Does your father not even have the courage to show up in person?”

Kalu said in a coarse voice.

Edmund elegantly flicked away non-existent dust from the corner of his robe, “Negotiating with you beasts doesn’t require my father to come in person.”

This person, the superiority and pride in his words far exceeded those of the Tax Collector, as if he were a favored child of the heavens, a darling of the world.

And indeed, he was.

Edmund was twenty-four this year. In the first twenty-three years of his life, he indulged in games and various pleasures until a year ago when he suddenly developed an interest in magic and began learning it.

Starting to learn magic at the age of 23 is quite late, and magic is not easy to learn.

Many thought he would soon give up.

But Edmund displayed an astounding talent for magic.

In just one year, he went from nothing to achieving what ordinary people would take decades, even a century, to accomplish—hailed as a magical genius of the Ironthorn Family, not seen in five hundred years.

Those obscure incantations and complex magical principles appeared especially simple to Edmund.

Throughout this year, he was surrounded by countless flowers and praises, convinced that whatever he wanted to do he could succeed. He believed himself to be the child of destiny.

Once he reached the Azure Sky Academy and had access to more resources and channels, he would undoubtedly become a legendary level caster.

His future was boundlessly bright.

Previously, he took pride in his family.

But in time, the family would be proud of him.

Edmund signaled for the golems behind him to step forward: “Get to the point—three thousand gold coins per month, back taxes for one year.”

“Not a coin less.”

He lifted his head, speaking decisively, leaving no room for doubt.

“Where did this fool come from, are you dreaming?”

Kalu stood up, asking.

“Seems our negotiations ended as they began.” Edmund shook his head, “My father was right; beasts remain beasts. You need to realize who truly is the master.”

He stared directly at Kalu, eyes pressing intensely.

He intended to provoke conflict here, to commence battle directly.

By subduing these monsters with force, subsequent issues would be easier to handle.

The knights drew their longswords, the roar of the golem engines thundered, overpowering the storm.

The torrential rain was falling, the Gorging Demon was about to roar and rage, but as if receiving some message, it forcefully suppressed the roar.

It displayed anger, yet apprehensive, helplessly lowering its head in humiliation at last.

“Humans, you’ve won.”

“We’ll pay the taxes; within seven days, the tax will be paid in full and delivered to your camp.”

Assuming you can still be alive by then… Kalu added in heart.

Both sides retreated in the rain, not engaging in battle.

Meanwhile, at Needleleaf Valley,

“Why do you insist on pushing me?”

“I clearly only want a peaceful life.”

Galos spread his wings, his commanding presence towering inch by inch against the fierce winds and rain.

He realized these humans had no intention of negotiating in good faith; their demands were impossible for Galos to meet.

If that’s the case, then there’s no need to negotiate.

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