Free Web NovelChapter 225: Chapter 217: Chixia Trading Team
The gray clouds hung oppressively low. A dark, crimson light bled through the gaps, staining the wasteland the color of a lifeless blood scab.
Ian walked at the head of the column, his boots making a crisp CRUNCH on the cracked earth.
He raised his hand slightly, and the column of over a hundred people behind him immediately halted, their breathing suppressed to a whisper.
"Brother?" Li Yao sidled up to him, his young face taut with tension.
Ian didn’t answer, merely narrowing his eyes as he gazed ahead.
About three hundred meters away, on a relatively flat stretch of gravel, several dozen large Camel Beasts were grazing on the sparse, withered grass.
The beasts were sturdier than horses, with bulging cargo packs strapped to their backs. Their hides were a docile, grayish-brown.
Twenty or so people bustled about near the Camel Beasts.
Some checked the ropes on the cargo, others squatted on the ground whittling wooden skewers with short knives, and still others were gathered around a small fire. An iron pot was propped over the flames, boiling something, its steam turning to white mist in the cold air.
Ian’s pupils contracted slightly.
[Starlight Perception] spread out silently, blanketing the area like an invisible net.
Those people... all of them were emitting waves of Energy.
None of them were weak.
A dozen or so were at the Awakening Tier. Although most were only in the Initial or Middle Stage, their auras were solid and their movements practiced. They were clearly veterans, seasoned by years on the road.
Three others had reached the Awakening Late Stage. One of them, a bald man in Leather Armor, was squatting by the fire, gnawing on a piece of dried meat and revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.
But what concerned Ian the most was the relatively "luxurious" carriage in the center of the caravan.
The carriage wasn’t large. It was pulled by two exceptionally sturdy Camel Beasts, and its cabin was crafted from dark brown hardwood, its corners bound in tarnished copper.
The window was shut tight, the curtain drawn completely.
And yet, the aura emanating from within...
It felt like a slowly smoldering charcoal fire—restrained and heavy, yet faintly exuding a heart-stopping pressure.
’Condensation Tier.’
Ian made his judgment.
In this world’s Cultivation System, the tier above Awakening was Condensation.
Once a person crossed the threshold into the Condensation Tier, they could form a temporary "Rune Armament" or "Bloodline Illusion," causing a quantum leap in their combat prowess.
In this wasteland, such an individual was already a regional protector, a figure on par with a Small City Lord.
"Lord Li, should we... go over there?"
A white-bearded elder leaning on a wooden staff drew near, his voice lowered to a whisper and his cloudy eyes filled with caution.
Ian was silent for a few seconds.
He was leading over a hundred people—men, women, and children—and their food and water were nearly gone.
The meat from the few Corrupted Rats they’d hunted yesterday was tough and foul-tasting. It had barely filled their stomachs, and it wouldn’t last them two days.
This caravan ahead of them was clearly well-supplied.
"We’ll approach them," Ian decided.
"Li Yao, take ten people and stay back to keep watch. The rest of you, with me. And remember: no staring, and don’t speak unless spoken to."
"Yes, sir!"
The group moved forward slowly.
The caravan spotted them quickly.
The bald man tossed aside the meat in his hand, rose to his feet, and placed his hand on the hilt of the blade at his waist.
The other Guards also stopped their work, their gazes turning wary.
Ian stopped fifty meters from the caravan.
The distance was safe, yet close enough to show they meant no harm.
"We’re just passing through and would like to trade," he called out, his voice calm and even.
The bald man sized him up, his gaze lingering for several seconds on the black-blood-caked Iron Sword at Ian’s waist.
"Where you from, kid?" the bald man’s voice was coarse, like sandpaper scraping against stone.
"We escaped from Maple City," Ian answered truthfully.
"The city fell. I’m trying to lead these people to Blue Cave Mountain, hoping to make a life there."
"Maple City?" The bald man raised an eyebrow, and the scar running from his brow to the corner of his mouth twitched.
"Heard it fell a while back. An inside job with the rebel army and the Mutants, wasn’t it? A lot of people died."
"Yes," Ian nodded.
The bald man glanced again at the people behind Ian. Their clothes were ragged, their faces sallow and gaunt.
Many of them were injured, but the will to survive still burned in their eyes.
"What do you want to trade for?" the bald man asked.
"Food, water, medicine for the wounded," Ian said. "We have goods to exchange."
He gestured, and two of his more able-bodied men brought forward a burlap sack.
They untied the drawstring, revealing a pile of dark objects.
The contents were teeth and claws from various Corrupted Beasts, along with a few relatively intact Shells.
These were the spoils of their battles along the way, which Ian had specifically instructed his people to collect.
Though contaminated, the materials were durable and could be used in some places for forging or as Alchemy ingredients.
The bald man squatted down and poked at the pile a few times with his short knife.
"Decent quality," he grunted, "but they’re all tainted with corrupted blood. They’ll need processing."
He looked up at Ian. "You killed these?"
"Mm."
Something shifted in the bald man’s gaze.
The materials came from a wide variety of Corrupted Beasts. The Earth-Burrowing Beasts, in particular, were some of the trickier ones to handle—their Shells were tough, they were incredibly strong, and they excelled at surprise attacks from underground.
’For a ragged group like this to take down even a few... they must have some real skill.’
"For this lot, I can give you three days’ rations for ten people, two jars of purified water, and one packet of basic Hemostatic Powder," the bald man stated his price.
Ian quickly calculated in his head. He knew the true value was much higher than that.
The bald man was driving a hard bargain, but Ian was in no position to haggle.
"Throw in five pieces of jerky," he said.
The bald man grinned, flashing his yellow teeth. "Fine. I can see you’re a straightforward man."
The trade was completed quickly.
Two Guards brought over a small wooden crate. Inside were neatly stacked grayish-brown hardtack biscuits, jerky wrapped in oil paper, and two sealed clay jars that sloshed with water when shaken.
