Black Hearted Mage

Chapter 357: Trading with the Roland Empire

The spy chief sat side by side with Duke Solomon, their fingertips slowly sliding across the parchment-made list of goods. The list contained a dazzling array of goods, many of which they had no use for, but the two of them still enthusiastically acted as matchmakers for these special goods, contacting several potential major buyers.

As the sun rose higher, they realized the tiny courtyard of the Cavill family home was simply too small to accommodate such a massive shipment. Before the noon bell rang, the three of them had already arrived at the magnificent Duke's residence. They passed through the gilded gate and into a wool-carpeted living room, where a crystal chandelier refracted sunlight into a dazzling rainbow, casting a shadow across the gilded furniture.

The three of them sat on the sofa, chatting cheerfully. Across the living room, a dozen servants were counting a mountain of goods. Then, a fat dog, its sleek fur swaying, strolled into the hall and caught sight of the old butler, Roy, directing the loading. Suddenly, it stood up, slamming its steel food bowl onto the marble floor with a clang that startled the butler, sending him back three steps.

"Bring me some bottles of fine, aged wine, and fill my basin with delicious meat!"

The fat dog's voice was like that of a drunken dock worker, with a very strange accent, and each word seemed to roll three times in his throat before it came out. Old Roy was so scared that his goatee stood up and the notebook in his hand dropped to the ground with a "clatter".

"Master! This fat dog has become a spirit. It can speak human language!"

He stumbled towards the sofa as if he had seen a ghost, and stepped on the hem of his butler's coat with silver trim several times.

Duke Solomon and Carlos exchanged bewilderment. They had indeed heard that strange voice, but they had never imagined it came from the fat dog lying nearby. Their eyes widened in unison, disbelief written all over their faces. The Duke instinctively rubbed his ears, while Carlos stared intently at the fat dog, who yawned lazily, as if trying to discern some clue from its furry face.

"This this…"

Duke Solomon opened his mouth, unsure what to say. He could only cast a confused look at Caesar, hoping for a reasonable explanation. Carlos even took a half step back, his right hand unconsciously pressing on the sword at his waist.

At this moment, the old butler Roy asked, "Marquis Caesars!" He shouted breathlessly, "That dog...it just spoke human language..."

"Old Roy," Caesars chuckled and waved his hand, seeming to find the commotion in front of him quite amusing. "The fat dog is hungry. He missed a meal today because we were here at the Duke's Mansion. Just prepare some food for him!"

Old Roy's wrinkled face was filled with fear. He pointed tremblingly at the fat dog that was scratching its ears with its hind legs: "Marquis Caesar, food is a small matter, but how can it...how can it speak human language?" The old man's voice changed, and he was obviously extremely frightened.

Caesars slowly stroked the fat dog's sleek fur, a mysterious smile on his lips. "My fat dog is no ordinary magic dog, it's a super magic beast." He paused meaningfully, "And it won't be long before it advances to become a legendary magic beast. Old Roy, it's not surprising that it can speak."

The fat dog understood what his master said. He raised his head proudly and howled at the old housekeeper, "I'm very hungry!" There was a hint of pride in his voice.

"Come with me to the kitchen. We have a lot of delicious food today. The leftovers alone will be enough to last you for days!"

Old Roy grinned, his missing front teeth wide, and waved his rough hand in the air. The plump puppy's ears perked up immediately, its shiny black nose twitching, as if it had already smelled the aroma of meat wafting from the kitchen. It eagerly grabbed the blue-glowing magic steel food bowl and followed Old Roy eagerly. Its saliva dripped along the edge of the bowl like beads from a broken string, leaving a trail of wet marks on the stone floor.

Just as the man and the dog were about to turn into the kitchen corridor, the hall door suddenly opened. Several white-haired old wizards filed in, their robes embroidered with different insignias—one the six-pointed star emblem of the Magic Guild, the other the golden lion totem of the Royal Order of Wizards. Leading the group was Old Gard, leaning on a staff inlaid with a flaming gemstone; behind him, Cairns twirled his graying beard with his withered fingers.

"Old Gard, Keynes, this is the cargo list, take a look at it first!"

Duke Solomon looked up from his sofa, his wrinkled robes still stained with alcohol. After several old wizards settled themselves in the carved oak chairs, the Duke produced a yellowed parchment densely covered with magical runes and numbers, with faint hints of "Warcraft Materials." The flames from the fireplace made the parchment translucent, the words seemingly dancing on the surface.

"We want all the materials for the Earth Dragon!"

Keynes slammed the table and stood up, his raspy voice shaking the crystal chandelier slightly. He waved his calloused hands in the air, as if to take all the spoils into his arms.

"You're daydreaming!" Old Gard sneered, his gray beard curled up with sarcasm. "Do you think I'm here to watch the fun? I want all these materials!" As he spoke, he deliberately slammed the staff heavily on the ground, and the head of the staff inlaid with the flame gem made a crisp sound when it knocked against the floor tiles.

Duke Solomon's face suddenly darkened. "Shut up!" he snarled, his voice low. "How unbecoming of you in front of such a distinguished guest!" His sharp gaze flickered between the two contenders. "You each get half of the Warcraft materials. It's a deal!"

"I only take the magic crystal." Kaisas leaned lazily on the carved chair back, his slender fingers tapping lightly on the gilded armrests, "As for how you divide the spoils..." He faced the burning gazes from the three parties and shrugged indifferently, "I don't care!" As he said that, he took out two storage rings with a faint glow from his arms and threw them casually on the coffee table.

"If you want to inspect the goods, go to the garden." Caesar pointed outside the floor-to-ceiling window, "The skeleton of the ground dragon is thicker than your carriage. It will crush these fine floor tiles..." He glanced meaningfully at the exquisite mosaic marble under his feet.

Several white-haired mages immediately filed out. Soon, the garden was piled high with monster remains—intact skeletons gleaming with metallic luster, internal organs sealed in ice, and dark red blood sloshing in a dozen oak barrels. However, everyone quickly turned back, their faces filled with confusion.

"Caesars!" Cairns grabbed the young man who was about to taste the wine. "Where are the heart and spinal cord? And the eight thigh bones?"

The red wine in the silver cup rippled slightly, reflecting Caesar's sly smile. "The spinal cord..." He sipped the wine gently, "It's been refined into a physical enhancement potion." His fingertips traced the rim of the cup. "As for the earth dragon's thigh bone..." A sudden smile, a hint of mischief, spread across his face. "The heart, the dragon bone broth is indeed delicious, and the taste of the bone marrow with black truffles...tsk tsk."

Of course, he wouldn't tell the truth—he had only stewed one leg bone from the Earth Dragon, and the remaining seven were stored in his space ring. These things he was selling were just the leftovers he had carefully selected.

"Eat it?! What a waste!"

Cairns pounded his chest furiously, his knuckles turning white from the sheer force. His voice was filled with uncontrollable sorrow, as if he had witnessed an unforgivable desecration. "That was the heart of an earth dragon! Containing the purest essence of fire magic! Just like that... just like that..."

"Keynes!" Duke Solomon suddenly rose from his seat, slamming his jeweled cane against the ground with a resounding clatter. His sharp gaze swept across the old wizard like a blade. "Watch your words! What do you mean by squandering a gift? The one standing before you isn't some great wizard, but someone who can easily decide your life or death!"

The air in the hall froze instantly. Several veteran wizards simultaneously gasped, realizing with shock that they had completely overlooked the strength of the hunter who had slew the Earth Dragon. Common wisdom in the magical world states that high-level wizards are often at a disadvantage against high-level magical beasts. Only those who have reached the level of Grand Wizard can contend with them. The Earth Dragon, as a superb fire-based magical beast, is a terrifying existence immune to most fire spells.

"Hehe..." A deep laugh broke the solemn atmosphere. Caesars waved his hand casually, looking at the elderly magicians. "Don't be angry, Your Excellency the Duke. I don't mind at all." His eyes swept over the flushed faces of the elderly magicians, and a meaningful smile curved the corner of his mouth. "After all, they want to dig up the magic crystals. It's okay to let them satisfy their cravings."

The old mages paled upon hearing this. Keynes instinctively touched his throbbing chest, his Adam's apple rolling with difficulty. He suddenly remembered something: the photo of himself naked back then was still in Kaisas's hands.

Several white-haired old wizards hurried through the castle archway, heading towards the back garden. In the center of the garden lay the carcasses of two earth dragons, gleaming in the sunlight—these perfectly fresh bones were the perfect raw material for extracting earth bone marrow. One of the wizards, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, suddenly squatted down, his trembling fingers tracing the pale red marrow fluid oozing from the dragon bones, a frenzied glint in his cloudy eyes.

"Look at this blood!" Another old man in an indigo robe held up a crystal bottle. The surging dragon blood in the bottle reflected the orange-red color of lava in the sunlight. "The concentration of active fire elements is unprecedented!" A few sparks suddenly burst out from the tip of his staff, obviously resonating with the restless fire elements in the blood.

A sudden argument erupted in a corner of the garden, as several mages clamored fiercely over a handful of ice-encased earth dragon entrails. Frost-coated kidneys were passed back and forth, the ice shards condensing on their surfaces falling. "Although it will require dozens of purifications and cleansings..." the goateed old mage clutched a kidney tightly, "this material is enough to make dozens of bottles of longevity potion!"

As soon as the midday banquet ended, the wizards scattered with their spoils. Some used levitation to carry an entire dragon spine, others carefully stored a container filled with dragon blood, and an old wizard repeatedly examined the frozen longan. These precious materials needed to be preserved immediately, and no one was willing to waste a second on small talk.

Caesars leaned against a stone pillar in the corridor, fingertips fiddling with a magic crystal. The clinking sounds in his space ring made his lips curl up—these two earth dragons were like a mobile vault. In a nearby pavilion, the spy chief meticulously examined dragon scales with a dagger, storing each metallic shard into his storage ring. Meanwhile, across the courtyard, several artisans had already taken out entire boxes of magic crystals to compete for the dragon's fang.

"Damn dog! It's time to go back!"

In front of the castle gate, a dark red demon dog slumped on the steps like a puddle of mud. Its bulging belly rose and fell with each breath, occasionally emitting a muffled "gurgle." In response to Caesar's scolding, it merely raised its eyelids and glanced at him, its short, thick limbs doing futile breaststrokes in the air, like a tortoise unable to turn over.

Caesars was so angry that he kicked the fat dog's butt, causing its flesh to tremble like waves. "I told you to stuff all the food into your stomach!" He grabbed the dog's ears and roared, "Is the storage ring just for show?"

"Hmm..."

The fat dog burped, its hot breath mingled with the smell of sulfur. The old butler, Roy, emerged from behind the door, his graying beard bristling with anger. "My Lord Marquis, it packed quite a bit of food and even stole a barrel of Fire Maple Wine!" He pointed at the amber stain left by the dog's mouth. "If I hadn't brought an extra barrel of fifty-year-old wine, your distinguished guests would have had nothing but apple cider vinegar to drink today!"

"Old Roy, don't underestimate its current appearance. The next time we meet, its size will surely shock you!"

Caesars grinned and picked up the chubby dog ​​with one hand. The dog twisted its body in his hand and whimpered in dissatisfaction.

He strode briskly toward the luxurious carriage at the entrance, even its wheels painted with colorful patterns. His interspatial ring still contained quite a few items, the spy chief's leftovers: over thirty pieces of somewhat damaged salamander hide, several pieces of precious white crocodile hide with a pearly sheen, and those incomplete ground dragon scales—although a few were cracked, they were still quite valuable.

The carriage creaked across the gravel road and soon stopped in front of the gray-brown stone building of the Northern Trading Company. Before the wheels could fully stop, a Northern guard wearing a fur vest turned around and rushed into the trading company as if he had seen a ghost, his heavy leather boots making a dull thud on the wooden floor.

As soon as Caesars pushed open the heavy car door, he saw Batulu, dressed in his signature fur coat, rushing to the door of the trading company. The fur coat, embellished with ornaments, rustled with his rapid steps, and his bushy beard was still stained with foam from the beer he had just drunk.