Translator: AnubisTL
Sixteen bronze-colored alchemical carriages rumbled along the rain-soaked trade route, steam pistons rhythmically hissing white vapor on either side of their axles.
These vehicles, manufactured by the Lothurn Federation, required no animal traction. Instead, miniature furnace engines embedded in their chassis glowed a dim crimson through heat dissipation grates.
Nick reclined in the lead carriage, his head resting comfortably on the tiefling sorceress's full, rounded thigh, looking utterly at ease.
"Maggie, these new carriages are quite comfortable, aren't they?" Nick said, idly pinching the soft flesh between his fingers.
"You're getting too cocky," the tiefling sorceress snapped, her sharp green eyes flashing as she slapped Nick's wandering hand away. Her tone was sharp, but the affection in her gaze was unmistakable.
To outsiders, Nick seemed like a glib, unreliable merchant. But to Maggie, he was a lover who showed no disdain for her devilish bloodline or appearance, making her feel completely at ease in his presence.
Similarly, while the tiefling race was often viewed as evil and sinister by others, Nick saw Maggie as a genuine, guileless companion—the perfect partner.
He had endured a failed marriage that had left him with nothing.
Having lost all faith in humanity, he found solace among the tieflings.
Six years ago, Nick and his tiefling partner had held a small, informal private wedding on the outskirts of Gilbert City, inviting no more than five close friends to witness their union as nominal spouses.
The reason for calling it "nominal" was that the Lothurn Federation, where they resided, did not recognize marriages between humans and tieflings. The official justification was that such unions would spread the tieflings' devilish bloodline, posing a potential threat to the social stability of the Lothurn Federation.
However, neither Nick nor his tiefling partner placed much importance on marriage contracts.
Their primary concern was each other, and they remained untroubled by this legal technicality.
Inside the comfortable, vibration-free carriage, the sorceress gazed out at the rain-streaked window and suddenly changed the subject, her voice low. "Nick, the Overlord who united all the monsters of the Scaly Earth Rift Road is no ordinary being. We shouldn't get further entangled."
"With our current wealth, we can afford to pay whatever it takes to remove the poison and curse afflicting you."
"I know some high-level sorcerers and spellcasters who can cleanse you of both."
Nick's smile slowly faded.
He gazed directly into his lover's gemstone-like green eyes, which captivated him, and said, "Merchants pursue profit—it's my nature. I'm passionate about trade, relishing the gains and the thrill of each deal."
He paused.
"But most importantly," he continued, "I enjoy dealing with these monsters."
"They're straightforward, their goals clear. Unlike our own kind, who scheme and deceive, driven by insatiable greed. They smile as they negotiate, all the while plotting to bleed you dry, sucking the marrow from your bones."
He fell silent for two seconds, then sighed, his voice tinged with melancholy. "Maggie, perhaps it's because I'm growing old, but I find myself increasingly weary of such cutthroat dealings."
His deep ties to the Ironforged Clan carried the threat of a sorcerer's curse, but the core reason lay in Nick's own desires.
No longer young, he found it increasingly draining to compete with the younger, more avaricious merchants. Exhausted by their relentless hunger, he chose to focus his time and spirit entirely on his dealings with the Ironforged Clan.
The sorceress lowered her gaze to her partner.
Nick was forty-two years old. As a pure-blooded human, he had entered middle age. Though he maintained himself well, wrinkles etched his face, and silver threads now streaked his temples.
Time had left its mark on Nick.
In contrast, the sorceress Maggie, a tiefling with a trace of devil blood, had a natural lifespan of around 120 years. Signs of aging would only begin to appear gradually after she turned sixty.
At thirty-six, Maggie still looked like a human girl barely twenty years old, her face exquisite, skin smooth and flawless, without a single wrinkle.
"It's good we're deeply bound to the Ironforged Clan," the sorceress murmured. "Nick, the Overlord behind the scenes might grant you a longer life."
Nick nodded. "Not just me. I hope we can all live long lives together."
Though they had never seen the Overlord's true form or interacted directly, years of close cooperation had led them to certain speculations.
"We've reached the agreed-upon location," Nick announced a few minutes later, leaning out of the observation window. Moisture from the gloomy rainy season condensed on his goggles.
In recent years, the Ironforged Clan's transactions with the merchant caravan had been conducted directly on the trade route, rather than within the clan's territory.
Through the dense rain, they could see Frostfang, the sorceress of the Werewolf Tribe, waiting by the roadside with three giant wolf knights. A temporary rain shelter had been erected nearby.
His gaze swept past the werewolves.
In the surrounding shadows, he could vaguely make out several tall, muscular figures. Though their forms remained indistinct, their mere presence radiated an oppressive, invisible pressure.
The caravan's numerous guards remained still, following Nick's repeated instructions: when encountering werewolves on the Scaly Earth Rift Road, never draw your swords or show any hostility.
"Unload the cargo! Handle with care—no throwing!"
A young man, about twenty-eight years old, wearing a simple raincoat, stepped out of his carriage to direct the troll slaves in unloading the goods.
Cole, once Nick's apprentice, had grown into a capable leader over the past decade and now served as a key member of Nick's Caravan.
Nick also dismounted.
Though he carried a small rain-resistant device, seeing the werewolves standing directly in the downpour, their fur drenched, Nick stepped into the rain without hesitation. A warm smile spread across his face as he approached.
"Twelve carts of black oil," he announced, gesturing toward the massive, beast-like vehicles looming through the rain. "The rest are filled with strong liquor, spices, dried fruits, sweet wine, forging molds with integrated temperature-regulating runes, and crucible sets embedded with fire attribute gemstones."
Black oil was an unchanging necessity, required every time.
Strong liquor, spices, forging molds, and crucible sets were what Samantha wanted. Candied fruits and sweet wine were Solgorn the Iron Dragon's request—this iron dragon had an unexpected fondness for sweets.
These sixteen wagons of goods were entirely for satisfying the needs or indulgences of a few dragons.
As for the monsters of the Ironforged Clan, each tribe primarily obtained their desired items through trade with other caravans traveling the trade route. The specific goods Nick's Caravan brought each time were exclusively for the dragonkind.
Soon after, the cargo was completely unloaded. The werewolves inventoried everything before carrying the crates into the shadows, where towering figures shouldered them away.
"Come with me. Let's discuss what we'll need next time," Frostfang called to Nick, leading him into a hastily erected tent.
"The black oil and small items remain unchanged," Frostfang said. "In addition to those, we require an alchemy item capable of enhancing gravity, alchemy manuals for all levels, and complete alchemy blueprints." After a pause, she added, "Ideally, we'd also like the blueprints for an alchemy golem."
Alchemy manuals and blueprints.
These weren't Samantha's requests, but rather those of the Iron Dragon Solgorn.
Samantha proudly believed that the knowledge within her inheritance was already sufficient and superior in every aspect.
However, Solgorn argued that alchemy was advancing too rapidly. The knowledge passed down through dragonkind's inheritance was likely outdated and insufficient, thus requiring the latest alchemy manuals and blueprints.
Moreover, these resources weren't just for Samantha's learning.
Standardized alchemy manuals could help the Ironforged Clan train more alchemists.
Constructing large-scale alchemical tools and alchemy golems often required the coordinated efforts of multiple alchemists.
Relying on a handful of alchemists to complete such massive creations would be excessively time-consuming, and even working themselves to death might not guarantee success. Even for great dragon alchemists, completing large alchemical constructs alone was no easy feat. This was precisely why Garos himself was unwilling to personally study alchemy.
(End of the Chapter)
---------------------------------------------------------
Continue Reading (𝘿𝙍𝘼𝙂𝙊𝙉) on CinderTL• ⓒⓞⓜ
Read Ahead to Ch229 • 𝕱𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 • No Login
🎉 10,000 Chapter Discount is Live. Ends June 2.
---------------------------------------------------------