A Dragon against the Whole World-Chapter 73: Caravan, Plunder

The scorching midday sun heated the sand and gravel, as five old-fashioned steam trucks powered by Burning Stone chugged along the Scale Earth Rift, with the black smoke from their exhaust pipes twisting into strange shapes amid the heat waves.

The Scale Earth Rift—a branch road of the Thousand Snake Mark.

It was named for the snake-scale-like patterns covering the ground.

Nick sat atop the cab of the lead truck, legs crossed and shaking a bottle of cheap ale in his hand, the liquid reflecting a murky gold in the sunlight.

He was a middle-aged man approaching forty.

Slender in build, his face and head wrapped in white cloth to fend off the sun, leaving only his eyes visible, his brown pupils occasionally flashing with a cunning sharper than that of a goblin.

"See that? That protruding rock wall there."

Nick pointed with the bottle towards the barren land on the right-front side and said, "Three years ago, I led a team to dig out a chest of Elf Ancient Coins from beneath it—pure gold, engraved with ancient runes, and sold it to an old scholar in the Northern Territory for a full fifty thousand gold coins!"

Spit!

The scar-faced driver spat from below.

"Come on, Nick! Last time you said that chest of coins was the Dwarf King’s toilet seat!"

He was a dwarf.

With a dense beard, short, sturdy, and solid.

Missing two front teeth, causing his speech to whistle.

Nick grinned, exposing a row of uneven teeth.

"That was another chest! The Dwarf King’s toilet seat was made of copper. I soaked it in acid, antiqued it into a relic, and sold it to a nouveau riche merchant. That fool still has it displayed at home like a family heirloom."

In the back of the carriage, Mage Maggi lifted the curtain.

Her face covered with a sand-proof scarf, revealing only a pair of sharp green eyes: "Nick, if you’re so good at making money, why are you still driving this heap of junk trucks? Can’t even afford guards?"

Nick was silent for a few seconds.

His eyes grew somber, but he quickly revived himself, slapping his thigh, causing a few drops from the bottle to splash onto the scorching iron roof, instantly evaporating into white smoke.

Nick laughed heartily, saying, "Good things take time. Why rush?"

He downed the cheap ale in one gulp: "Once we get this batch of ’Dragon Blood Ore’ out there and sold, I’ll treat you all to drinking till dawn at the tavern!"

"Dragon Blood Ore?"

The young apprentice Cole poked his head out from the cargo compartment, ash from Burning Stone on his nose, puzzled, "But aren’t we carrying Chicken Blood Stone?"

Nick glared at him, lowering his voice:

"Shh! Keep it down! What’s wrong with Chicken Blood Stone? Add some dye and spin a tale, it becomes Dragon Blood Ore! Those mage apprentices from noble schools don’t know squat; they can’t tell a lizard tail from a Dragon Claw, and since they think no one dares to deceive a noble mage, they’re the best sales targets."

The scar-faced driver burst out laughing, nearly spitting out the chewing tobacco:

"Nick, you’ll end up being hanged at the city gate sooner or later."

"Hanged? Doing business requires the courage to face death!" Nick snorted disdainfully: "If I were afraid of dying, I would’ve been a meek accountant at the Jade Merchants Association ten years ago."

He squinted into the distance at the shimmering heat waves: "You know, back in Silver Harbor City, I sold an entire shipload of moldy grain to an Elf Ambassador just by talking, and the old geezer even praised me for my honesty."

Maggi rolled her eyes, not believing a word: "And then? Chased by an Elf Ranger for half a year?"

"That was an accident!" Nick waved his hand as if to dispel the unpleasant memory: "Besides, didn’t I survive in the end? I even managed to swindle that ranger’s sword to sell."

The apprentice Cole looked on with admiration, blinking, and quickly asked: "Really?"

"Of course!" Nick puffed out his chest, then suddenly looked regretful: "The sword hilt was even encrusted with gemstones, though, sadly, they were just glass."

Everyone burst out laughing; except the apprentice, they all regarded Nick’s tales as indulgent fabrications.

The rumble of the steam trucks mixed with their laughter, echoed along the rocky walls of the Linxia Rift.

Hot wind swept through, carrying sand, as Nick gazed at the distant winding canyon, listening to his companions’ laughter, inevitably reminiscing about his past life full of ups and downs, feeling a bit complicated but keeping a smile on his face.

Maintain a smile at all times; a smile can disarm others.

This was a tip taught to Nick by the leader of his first trade mission at the age of thirteen.

But soon, Nick couldn’t keep smiling.

Awooooo! Awoooo!

The howls of giant wolves rang out, undulating, piercing the sky.

His smile froze.

"Damn it! Why did I have to run into monsters bandits in the wild!"

Nick cursed inwardly, his heart slowly sinking.

The Sel Wilderness was rich in mineral resources but also home to countless ferocious beasts and monsters, monster clans. Around the roads of the Thousand Snake Mark, the Lothern Federation’s army would clear out or drive away the dangerous beasts and monsters from time to time.

However, for the intelligent monster clans, this tactic was not very effective.

For due to their intelligence, the monster clans of the wild knew how to lie low, hold back, and retreat deep into the wilderness at the first sign of danger, only to surge back like a tide when the threat was gone.

The Sel Wilderness was vast, even home to legendary-level ferocious beasts.

The Lothern Federation’s clearing troops wouldn’t venture deep into the wilderness without a good reason, as it would cause unnecessary trouble and losses; clearing the ferocious beasts around the trade routes from time to time was enough.

Unless a great cost was willing to be paid, clearing all ferocious beasts in the wilderness is nearly impossible.

Moreover, these ferocious beasts and monsters are also considered a type of biological resource.

As for the intelligent creature clans, hmm, more merchants refer to them as monster clans.

Their numbers are negligible compared to the ferocious beasts and monsters, only the unlucky would encounter them, and knowing how to avoid harm, they dare not attack powerful trade caravans, often opting to plunder weaker ones that have little to no resources.

Unfortunately.

Nick’s caravan was just such an unlucky and weak target, eyed by the monster clan.

In the distance, dust flew, and seven or eight gray shadows shot out from the shadows of the rocky walls, the wolf paws stepping over the scorching sand without making a sound.

"Damn it!"

The scar-faced driver yanked the tobacco from his mouth, reaching for the short axe beneath the seat, "Gray-haired Werewolves!"

Nick’s heart sank to the bottom.

Gray-haired Werewolves—not mindless beasts, but an intelligent clan knowing how to ambush, encircle, even negotiate, often striking when they are certain of success. Worse yet, they rarely leave survivors.

Beyond the initial gray shadows.

Nick strained his eyes to see some Giant Wolf Knights half-hidden among the thickets.

If it was just a few kobolds, that would be one thing, but those giant wolves were huge, with ferocious claws and fangs, beyond the caravan’s capacity to handle.

Resistance was certain death; surrender and negotiation offered a slim chance of survival.

"Stay calm! Don’t move rashly!"

Nick shouted lowly, urging his companions to restrain themselves.

A nearly two-meter-tall seasoned werewolf with a missing right ear lunged forward, a low growl rumbling in its throat.

"We surrender!"

Nick instantly raised both hands high, his voice sharp and bright, as if afraid the other party wouldn’t understand the common language: "You can have all the goods! Just don’t hurt anyone!"

The scar-faced driver still wanted to resist, but as soon as he grabbed the axe, another sturdy werewolf pounced from the side, its sharp claws hovering at his throat, a light swipe spilling blood on the spot.

Mage Maggi remained calm.

She slowly lifted her veil, revealing a pale but composed face.

On her head were a pair of horn-like antelope horns, spiraling upwards, unlike normal humans. At this moment, she raised her hands, indicating no weapons or intent to resist.

Upon seeing her, the nearest werewolf inexplicably felt some fear and apprehension.

But quickly, the apprehension gave way to inherent ferocity; the werewolf forcefully tore off her backpack and roughly rifled through it.

"Easy! Those are healing potions in there!" Maggi couldn’t help but shout, only to receive a backhanded slap, blood immediately seeping from the corner of her mouth.

Nick’s eye twitched, but he dared not move.

He knew, at this moment, any unnecessary action was a death wish.