Chapter 70: Chapter 70: Dark Circles
"How will we know if we don’t try?" the middle-aged woman named Bakoyannis said nonchalantly. "Besides, there’s no harm in it. If there aren’t any slaves worth taking, we can just do normal business with them."
"’Normal’ business?" her subordinate replied, sounding as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous joke imaginable. "Don’t be funny, Bakoyannis. We never do ’normal business.’ If we see something worth grabbing, we grab it. If we can’t take it by force, we steal it. That’s our ’business’!"
"That’s just you," Bakoyannis sneered, her tone affected. "Your experience and skill aren’t even enough to get you through the door of our upper echelon. That’s why you think that way. Once you reach my position, you’ll understand how we’ve established ourselves among the southern city-states of the Delusional Land."
"Oh, right, right, right."
The subordinate didn’t argue, but he was scoffing internally. ’What "upper echelon"? She’s just a squad leader, only capable of lording it over us.’
’And what about us? Right. We can lord it over these lowly slaves!’
"What in the world did that Elf promise the boss to make her suddenly order us to go check it out?" a Caster complained, clearly displeased. "We’re an elite team, and the cargo we’re carrying is priceless. If we lose it in the Delusional Land, who’s going to be responsible?"
As a Caster, this man was clearly a cut above the guard-level grunts.
"You, of course. You’re the one asking." A light rain began to drizzle from the sky. Bakoyannis held out her hand, catching a few drops from between the leaves. She froze them into a snowflake in her palm and casually blew it away. "Don’t ask so many pointless questions. If you had learned what I have, you’d have been my equal long ago."
’So what if he’s a Caster? She was a Caster, too, and still a cut above him.’
"Wait!" Someone in the group suddenly raised a hand. Judging by his attire, he was some kind of Scout.
"Someone just passed through here!"
"Are you sure?" Bakoyannis’s gaze sharpened instantly. "How many? When?"
"Five people. Just now." The Scout examined the ground carefully before quickly reaching his conclusion.
"Races? Classes?" Bakoyannis waved her hand, and the entire squad immediately spread out into a combat formation, each person carefully scanning their surroundings.
As the Scout drew closer, Ron and his group, with nowhere left to hide, had no choice but to step out. They gave the others an awkward wave.
"Uh... hi?"
"Three humans, a Half-Elf, and... a goblin?" When Bakoyannis saw Delaford, an expression of disgust immediately appeared on her face. "How did you end up mixed up with a thing like that?"
"They’re unhygienic, hard to manage, and sell for cheap. They have no merits aside from being sturdy and durable."
"You hit the nail on the head," Ron said, spreading his hands. "What can we do? We don’t have the kind of power you all command. We can only dare to engage in this kind of small-time business."
"And what might be the esteemed name of your business?"
"We’re from the Carolina City-States. Haven’t you heard of us? You’ve definitely heard of the Black Eyes, right?"
The first name Bakoyannis gave was their official, formal title; the second was their street name.
"Oh, oh, of course! A name I’ve long admired!" Ron feigned a look of sudden realization. "The formidable reputation of the Black Eyes is legendary! I’ve always looked to you all as role models!"
"You’ve got a sharp eye," Bakoyannis sneered. "Now scram. Don’t go to the trading post over at Fromm’s, or this big sister here might have to ’discipline’ you as competitors—that little Half-Elf chick has a lot of potential, you know."
"I’m probably older than you," Aive retorted, her face dark.
Although they were furious with the other party, Ron’s submissive act was completely reasonable. Here, the slavers had the advantage in numbers, but the trading post was their home turf!
’Once we’re there, whether we boil these slave traders, roast them, feed them to goblins, or toss them to a Black Dragon will be entirely our decision, won’t it?’
’Endure for a moment and the storm will pass. Retreat one step, and they’ll strip the flesh from your bones.’
But just as the slave traders were walking past them, and Ron’s group thought they had gotten away with their bluff, the middle-aged woman suddenly stopped. She pulled a Scroll with a drawing on it from her satchel.
"Wait, something’s not right." Bakoyannis turned around, her expression malicious. "You almost fooled me. You’re Ron, aren’t you? Just as silver-tongued and quick-witted as Ming Datiss said."
"But unfortunately for you, we’re a professional team. We’re not so easily deceived."
"That Elf paid us for your capture. The reward supposedly doubles for each one of you we catch. So, how about it? Be smart and come along quietly."
"Don’t worry. Your price is too high; we wouldn’t dare give you the same treatment as common slaves. That is, provided you cooperate."
"Ming Datiss is really willing to spare no expense," Ron said with a bitter smile. "It seems we have no other choice, then."
A thick cloud of mist suddenly spread through the forest. In the low-visibility environment, Bakoyannis’s squad quickly lost track of Ron and his group.
However, she wasn’t flustered in the slightest. She even laughed mockingly. "You can’t possibly think a little trick like this is enough to get you off the hook, do you?"
"Allow me to show you country bumpkins what real Magic is! Wind Creation Skill!"
A twenty-meter-long, three-meter-wide gale blasted from Bakoyannis into the mist before her. Under the force of this powerful wind, Delaford’s Cloud Mist Technique was instantly broken. But when the Black Eyes’ thugs prepared to charge, they found a massive tower shield blocking their path.
"Magic Missile!"
"Blessing Magic!"
"Protection from Evil!"
A series of spells flew from behind the tower shield, which began to crackle with dangerous electricity. At the same time, the goblin that Bakoyannis had just looked down on had already blended into the jungle. Arrows shot out relentlessly from the shadows, making several of the Casters cry out in pain.
’Shield Magic isn’t something you can cast without cost. What do they do when their Magic runs out? Shoot Flaming Arrows?’
But at this moment, the goblin’s harassment was a secondary concern. The biggest headache for the slave traders was undoubtedly Sera, who was like a tiger let loose among sheep.
Even with their fine equipment, faced with Sera’s miraculous strength, almost no one dared to take a direct hit from her axe. The result of these men cherishing their own lives and backing down was that the frail Mages and Scouts were completely exposed!
"Argh!" The meddlesome Scout naturally became the target of Ron’s group’s hatred. After several minutes of back-and-forth fighting, the Scout’s head, persuaded by Sera’s double-bladed great-axe, went bouncing off in pursuit of its own freedom.
"Damn it! Retreat! Take the slaves and fall back!" Seeing the deteriorating situation, Bakoyannis panicked. After unleashing a Dagger Cloud and having another Caster use Dark Magic to barely force back Sera and the advancing Aive, the group quickly retreated.
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