Chapter 74: Chapter 74: Son of the Devil, Galos’s Objective

The one-eared werewolf leader paced over to the cart, flaring his nostrils as he sniffed the cargo box, then bared a row of sharp, white fangs.

“What’s inside here?”

he asked.

“Dragon, dragon blood……..” The apprentice’s words were cut off by Nick: “Chicken Blood Stone, just some cheap Chicken Blood Stones.”

The werewolf ignored him, slashed with a claw, and the lock on the box snapped open.

As the lid was lifted, the box was filled with red Chicken Blood Stones exposed to the sunlight. The colors were indeed bright and vivid, but there was no magic power emanating from them, purely worthless goods without any value to the monster races in the wild.

“Any black oil, Magic Energy Stones!”

The one-eared werewolf asked in a deep voice, his eyes gleaming with malice.

Nick’s eyes darted, quickly saying: “Mighty Werewolf, I’m sorry to disappoint you; we did not choose these goods for this trade trip. However, if you need them, I promise to return next time with black oil and Magic Energy Stones, offering you the best prices.”

The one-eared werewolf grinned again.

“Wolf cubs! Knock out and tie up all these humans! Any resistance, slaughter them on the spot.”

Nick was taken aback: “W-wait, wait!”

Before he could finish, the one-eared werewolf swiped at him with a claw.

The world turned upside down.

Nick’s final sight was the white blazing sky, echoing with the cries of his companions and the low growls of werewolves.

With the scar-faced carter as a precedent, the rest dared not resist, knowing it was a dead end, and cooperatively were knocked out and tied up.

Crescent Valley, territory of the Howling Moon Clan.

Under the black velvet-like night sky, unconscious humans were brought here.

The Red Iron Dragon sat silently in the shadows of the cave’s entrance against the rock wall, its presence hidden as it calmly surveyed the humans below.

More precisely.

The humans, and a ’Son of the Devil’.

Galos noticed the mage’s antelope-like horns on her head, green eyes, and sensed the peculiar aura emanating from her, something akin to evil, chaos, yet tinged with humanity.

At first glance.

Galos was puzzled, wondering if a human had an extraordinary relationship with an antelope, resulting in this antelope-horned mage?

In the next moment, the Dragon’s Legacy naturally brought forth the relevant knowledge, revealing the truth to him.

This mage was not pureblood human, nor a hybrid of human and antelope, but belonged to a race called [Tiefling], known in common tongue as—Son of the Devil.

Tieflings are humans with devil’s lineage.

They are derived from human bloodlines, looking mostly human yet with devilish traits etched into their appearance—the horns on their head, the tail behind, marking them as different.

In the human world.

No, or rather, in the world of intelligent civilization, Tieflings are not welcomed anywhere due to their devil’s bloodline.

Because of others’ stares, fear, distrust.

Even though Tieflings are not innately evil, most still tread a wicked path, further exacerbating the stereotype about them among intelligent creatures, forming a vicious cycle.

“A discriminated, unwelcome Son of the Devil, paired with a somewhat shabby trading caravan, this combination seems normal.”

Galos pondered.

“However, why does this female Tiefling have pupils in her eyes? The legacy mentions their eyes are pure colors, with no differentiation of whites or pupils.”

The Red Iron Dragon flicked its tail, slightly puzzled.

Could it be this Tiefling has another bloodline mix? Interesting.

At the same time.

The adult werewolf poured cold water on them, waking them from their unconscious state.

Through the magic-like skill of mental communication, Galos’s thoughts were directly conveyed into the Elder Shaman’s mind.

He remained hidden from view, still behind the scenes, as the Elder Shaman executed his will, turning his gaze to the Tiefling, saying, “Son of the Devil, your green eyes resemble an elf more than a Tiefling.”

Maggi was slightly stunned.

She hadn’t expected the wild monster race to know her identity.

In her mind, though the monster race in the wild possessed intelligence, their understanding was shallow, their conduct barbaric, difficult to communicate with.

On the other hand, Nick’s eyes brightened slightly upon hearing the Elder Shaman’s words.

This Elder Shaman seemed different, knowing about Sons of the Devil, knowing Tieflings; it possessed knowledge other werewolves lacked, and seemed open to communication.

As long as there’s communication, there can be negotiation.

Nick was confident that with his silver tongue, he could at least win a chance to survive.

If luck was on his side, maybe he could even establish a stable trade connection with this werewolf clan, buying their furs, claws, and ores at low prices…….. This could be a golden opportunity.

Merchants know how to seize every money-making opportunity.

Nick immediately interjected, a smile on his face, explaining on behalf of the inarticulate Maggi: “Oh, to know of Tiefling’s existence, you must be a wise and insightful elder of the werewolves.”

“Her eyes are fitted with lenses that enhance iris color, a little invention by an alchemist, very popular in the Southern Countries.”

Nick moved his eyes.

Maggi quietly removed the lenses, revealing a pair of pure-colored, somewhat enchantingly green eyes.

“If you like such little things, or anything you like, I can bring them to you and give you the best price, provided you’re willing to spare us, granting us a chance to build trust.”

Nick’s face was adorned with smiles as he spoke.

Just lenses……. That explains why the eyes seemed odd.

Galos maintained a composed expression, shifting his gaze from the Tiefling mage to Nick.

This ordinarily-looking merchant, exuding a hint of shrewdness, initially did not attract Galos’s attention, but his words trying to sell and establish trade amid the encircling pack intrigued Galos.

“Perhaps this person could be useful.”

He thought, then conveyed his thoughts to the Elder Shaman.

The Elder Shaman was receptive, asking for Nick’s name, then directly queried: “Human, I desire black oil and Magic Energy Stones, can you procure them?”

Black oil and Magic Energy Stones?

What does the wild monster race want with these?

The shaman in front and the one-eared werewolf who spoke before both mentioned black oil and Magic Energy Stones.

Nick glanced around with the corners of his eyes, seeing no large alchemy golems.

Although some werewolves wore alchemy equipment, those need neither black oil nor Magic Energy Stones.

For instance, the steam vehicle he used this time for transporting goods operated on Burning Stone, a cheaper mineral than black oil.

Black oil’s uses are more advanced, mostly powering alchemy golems or some large alchemy devices, and Magic Energy Stones function similarly, with even higher energy efficiency than black oil.

“Of course, of course.”

Nick straightened his chest, even daring to stand up, patting the dust off his coat.

He bowed respectfully to the Elder Shaman, then said: “Black oil has wide applications, accessible through many legitimate channels in the civilized Southern Countries, as for Magic Energy Stones, though a bit more troublesome, I can still guarantee to bring some for you.”

Galos lightly flicked his dragon tail, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Indeed, objects difficult to obtain in the wilderness could be easily acquired if a channel to the Southern Countries were established, much like the useless Chicken Blood Stones abundant in the wilderness but valued in the South as fine jewelry materials.

Certain items.

May be worthless at the source.

But taken elsewhere, their value skyrockets.

And in this process, securing a reliable, controllable, sustainable ’channel’ is of utmost importance.

“You have earned yourself a chance to live.”

The Elder Shaman smiled faintly, baring his fangs at Nick, then added, “But humans are ever greedy, untrustworthy, especially those among the merchants.”

Nick’s heart skipped a beat.

He hurriedly said: “Oh, I swear by the souls of all my departed ancestors, I am unlike other merchants. All who’ve traded with me trust me deeply for my honesty.”

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