Translator: AnubisTL
Across Bernardo Planet, alchemists held a prominent place in every empire. The alchemy industry, a vital component of imperial power, could not afford to lag behind; it was, in essence, the foundation of any empire.
Though currently just an ordinary clan entrenched in the wilderness, the iron dragon already envisioned its future. Its dream was to establish an empire ruled by dragonkind, a vision Garos had pledged to share. Should the Ironforged Clan one day ascend to imperial status, Garos vowed never to claim that glorious honor alone.
"Blueprints for simple, common alchemy items are easy to obtain," Nick explained. "But those for complex and powerful alchemy items aren't publicly available. Acquiring them requires a hefty price."
As he spoke, his gaze flickered toward the chests stacked inside the tent.
Frostfang waved a claw, and the burly werewolf began opening the chests one by one, revealing their contents: biological materials and various ores.
Purple copper and red copper ores were common trade items.
However, a full chest of diamonds surprised and delighted Nick.
"These diamonds are of excellent quality and high value. I can bring you at least ten different advanced alchemy blueprints, including at least one for an alchemy golem," he said.
After a moment's thought, Nick added, "But if you also want alchemy items that enhance gravity, the supply of other goods will be reduced."
Blueprints and alchemy items were both highly valuable.
The cheapest items were things like wine, dried fruit, and candied fruit.
Frostfang had the werewolf open the last large chest, revealing ice-blue bones.
"What are these?" Nick asked, his gaze curious and slightly puzzled.
The bones were exceptionally thick and massive, with faint traces of magic energy still flowing through them. As soon as the chest was opened, a frigid blast of cold rushed out, as if the air itself were about to freeze.
"Frost behemoth bones," Frostfang said, twitching her ears. "This chest of bones, plus another chest of purple copper ore."
Hearing this, Nick grinned brightly and said, "No, you've underestimated the value of behemoth bones. This chest alone is enough. I can use the extra ore to bring in even more goods."
As a sorcerer, Frostfang possessed a keen curiosity and a thirst for knowledge.
"Behemoths were the giantkin's war machines," she explained. "Their bones are exceptionally tough, but they have few other properties. The magic energy within them gradually dissipates, making them unsuitable for crafting durable weapons or armor. Moreover, their coarse texture makes them useless for the refined jewelry favored by nobles."
Frostfang pressed, "Then what makes these bones so valuable?"
Instead of exploiting the information gap for personal gain, Nick offered a detailed explanation. "Legend has it that even a tiny amount of crushed behemoth bone powder, when mixed into liquor, creates a potent aphrodisiac. Soaking the bones directly in alcohol yields the same effect."
He chuckled. "Nobles are always eager for such potent spirits."
Frostfang frowned, countering, "That's not right. Behemoth bones have no special properties, certainly not that kind of effect."
"That doesn't matter," Nick said. "What matters is that people believe it and there's market demand."
Before Frostfang could ask, Nick preemptively inquired, "The Permafrost Tundra has been quite turbulent lately. Did you obtain these frost behemoth bones from there?"
Frostfang narrowed her eyes slightly, offering no immediate answer.
"How did you learn about the unrest in the Permafrost Tundra?" she asked coldly, her pupils constricting to thin slits. "What's the specific situation?"
Seeing her reaction, Nick quickly waved his hands. "Don't be alarmed. Our merchant caravan hasn't been to the tundra. But a month ago, in a tavern in Lothurn City, a ranger with three frostbitten fingers was bragging about witnessing the war firsthand. Information about the tundra conflict is spreading rapidly."
After a brief pause, Nick lowered his voice and continued, "The Frost Giant Alliance and the Warhowl Clan have entered full-scale war, clashing fiercely across the Permafrost Tundra. Their conflict threatens to completely reshape the region's power dynamics."
Frostfang showed keen interest in this news, pressing Nick for more details.
Nick organized his knowledge, carefully choosing his words as he recounted what he knew.
Garos had been eavesdropping on the entire conversation.
Perched in Needleleaf Valley, he hovered a message stone before him, relaying the conversation from the trade route in real-time.
"The Frost Giant Alliance and the Warhowl Clan," Garos mused, his thoughts heavy.
The Warhowl Clan was a massive clan formed by the northern barbarians, the largest on the Permafrost Tundra. With its formidable military strength, vast population, and near-national scale, it could almost be considered a nation-state—were it not for the northern barbarians' preference for clan-based organization over formal statehood.
As for the Frost Giant Alliance, also known as the White Frost Alliance, its name revealed its nature: a coalition of frost giant clans, both large and small, forming another major power on the Permafrost Tundra.
The Warhowl Clan versus the Frost Giant Alliance.
According to Nick's information, the conflict had erupted over a massive frost marrow vein discovered in the buffer zone between their territories. Neither side was willing to yield, leading to escalating clashes and wars over control of the frost marrow vein.
After years of conflict, both sides, having suffered losses and recognizing each other's strength, decided to negotiate a peaceful resolution to the war.
They dispatched envoys to the border region for negotiations, eventually reaching a consensus.
However.
On their return journey, the frost giant mission, along with all other frost giants, was ambushed and slaughtered in the vast polar wilderness. Among the dead was a son of the White Frost King.
The White Frost King, ruler of the Frost Giant Alliance, erupted in fury.
The loss of a son and numerous clansmen was unacceptable. The frost giant king refused to let the matter rest, unleashing his vengeful wrath upon the Warhowl Clan.
Initially, the Warhowl Clan chose to retreat, claiming they had no involvement in the ambush of the frost giant mission. But the barbarians' explanations failed to quell the giants' rage.
Faced with the frost giants' relentless pressure, the hot-tempered barbarians abandoned their retreat and declared open war.
As the two dominant powers of the Permafrost Tundra, their conflict plunged the region into chaos and danger.
"Did the frost behemoth become separated from its unit during the chaotic battlefield, or was its original unit completely wiped out, forcing it to flee here while being pursued by the barbarians?" Garos speculated inwardly.
Though he lacked concrete answers, he felt certain that the frost behemoth's appearance was inextricably linked to the war on the Permafrost Tundra.
"The northern outposts need to be reinforced," he thought silently.
The Permafrost Tundra was no hospitable place—resource-poor, with a harsh and unforgiving climate.
Normally, only a thin layer of moss covered the ground, devoid of life. But when blizzards struck, the entire world would be buried under ice and snow, leaving only the most resilient creatures to survive.
Now, with large-scale warfare raging, the native creatures of the Permafrost Tundra would likely migrate en masse. The Sierre Wilderness wasn't ideal, but it would undoubtedly be one of their migration destinations.
"The White Frost Alliance, the Warhowl Clan..."
"An organization of this scale must have legendary beings with life grades exceeding 20."
Garos unconsciously flicked his tail, a hint of longing in his eyes.
"Legendary... legendary... when will I become legendary?"
Dragonkind were destined for legendary status, but their growth period was agonizingly long. Garos had adapted and evolved to shorten his maturation time, yet compared to short-lived species like humans, his progress still felt painfully slow.
As for humans, the disparity between the weak and the gifted was stark.
The weak were like ants, easily crushed, but those with exceptional talent could achieve legendary status within a century—and there were numerous examples.
The human king who unified the Lothurn Federation ascended to legendary status before the age of forty.
In contrast, even among dragons who matured in a century, the records of those reaching legendary status by forty were vanishingly rare.
However, human legends had their limitations.
Even upon achieving legendary status, their lifespans remained relatively unchanged.
(End of the Chapter)
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