Ten days later, a hundred kilometers from the main camp, Velin traded fifty thousand Dwarven weapons to the Centaurs for fifty thousand able-bodied Gray-skinned Goblins and one hundred thousand elderly, weak, women, and children Gray-skinned Goblins.
"The extra Gray-skinned Goblins are a gift from us Centaurs." Surilen looked at the weapons loaded on the carriages, his tone somewhat excited.
"Mr. Surilen, if you were human, I believe you would definitely be a qualified merchant." Velin replied with a smile.
"Thank you for the compliment." Surilen smiled in response, but he did not let down his guard. If these humans decided to rob them while they were vulnerable, they would suffer a tremendous loss.
"I still have another batch of Dwarven weapons, around thirty thousand in total." Velin paid no attention to Surilen's wariness and spoke calmly.
Surilen's eyes lit up at once. He lowered his voice and said, "Sir, how about we trade here again in one year?"
"For our next trade, if the number of able-bodied Gray-skinned Goblins exceeds sixty thousand, our legion's stockpile of rotten arrows could also be traded to you. I only hope you do not make us wait too long."
"Within eight months, I will have the goods ready for you." Surilen held out three fingers on his left hand and one on his right. "What do you think of this price?"
"That works. We'll trade at that price." Velin nodded in satisfaction.
Over the next two hours, the two sides began their exchange.
The Centaurs strapped saddles onto themselves, pulled the carriages, and headed west.
Star Prayer Camp escorted the hundred and fifty thousand Gray-skinned Goblin slaves to a location thirty kilometers north of the main camp, where they awaited assignment.
Velin inspected them. The Centaurs had handled things reliably. Every hundred Gray-skinned Goblins