"Lord Loren, this meat is from a horned python. Two thousand Puke per pound. It's packed with magic power. Please, try some."
"This is the meat of a raging giant lizard, five thousand Puke per pound."
"This is one-eyed rhino."
"And this."
At the Jasmine Flower Merchant Guild, Robert and Anor carried in all kinds of precious Magic Beast meat from outside, sweating profusely, while Loren sat pale-faced at the round table, wolfing it down.
Plate after plate of roast meat disappeared into him as if he were a bottomless pit.
His astonishing digestive power made every mouthful vanish within minutes.
Only when a servant from the Jasmine Flower Merchant Guild came to tell Robert that the storeroom was out of Magic Beast meat did Loren finally have to stop.
Even after eating so much, his whole body was still limp.
He felt as weak as a man who'd spent ten days and nights in bed, seven times a night. His eyes swam, and he didn't even have the strength to stand.
Loren leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. He asked in a feeble voice,
"When will those Barbarians be brought to the Jasmine Flower Merchant Guild?"
"Lord Loren, the Black Feather Merchant Association's manager respects your strength. He specially arranged for a priest to treat the Barbarians. They should have mostly recovered by tonight, and then they'll be brought here."
Robert looked at Loren with open admiration and respect.
He was a low-gold-grade warrior himself, but he knew perfectly well that if he faced the Barbarian Chieftain alone, he wouldn't last three minutes.
Yet Loren had killed the Barbarian Chieftain in an instant with overwhelming force. Didn't that mean taking Robert down would be as easy as lifting a hand?
And Loren was only Silver Grade!!
The respect Robert had felt for Loren's status from the beginning now extended to both his status and his strength.
One had to show sufficient respect to the strong. That was the first rule of survival on the Nol Main Plane, an eternal iron law.
Feeling the weakness in his body, Loren felt as if life had lost all meaning.
Using Silver-grade power to take down a gold-grade warrior had felt great, but the aftereffects of using the S-class skill—Demon Frenzy—were extreme.
On top of that, he had used the S-class secret art of the Bauhinia Breathing Technique—Steel Breaker Slash—which had pushed his body even further past its limits.
So when his battle lust faded, he had to be carried back.
He wouldn't be able to fight for at least three days. It would take at least a week before he could face a gold-grade warrior like he had today.
Still, it had all been worth it.
"Ding~ Quest—Impossible Conquest, completed.
Reward: The Barbarians' allegiance, delivered."
From now on, those powerful brutes would become the battle blades in his hands.
Another thing he had gained was the realization that the system issued quests based on his actual circumstances, rather than at random. It gave him something to think about.
Fiana, cool and aloof as ever, stood to one side, watching the half-dead Loren with annoyance. Her face stiff, she said coldly,
"Hmph. Take this as a lesson. If something had gone wrong, I wonder if you'd still be here stuffing your face!"
She had been amazed by Loren's shocking combat prowess, but when he had collapsed limply into her arms, no one could describe the panic and unease she had felt.
So it was no wonder she wasn't being nice to him.
Loren turned to the girl, who was barely containing her anger, and grinned.
"If I'd sent you up there, I wouldn't have had to work so hard. You should've taken the initiative and helped me out."
?!!
Fiana was so furious she wanted to kick him a couple of times.
Who had stopped her from joining the fight?
Who had told her to trust him?
What a jerk!!
She huffed a few times, but still couldn't get over it. In the end, the girl decided she was better off not looking at him. She glared at him and walked away.
Anor stood to one side, eyes lowered and nose pointed down, pretending he hadn't heard a thing. Only after Fiana had left did he lavish Loren with exaggerated praise.
"Lord Loren, you were absolutely magnificent today!
You didn't see those noblewomen nearby. Their eyes practically lit up when they saw you!!
If you'd stayed, you'd definitely have had a wonderful night!
I swear, if I were one of those ladies, I'd fall in love with you!!"
Loren had just started to feel a little better, but those words made his stomach turn.
He eyed the scrawny bronze-grade rogue with utter disdain.
"Get lost!! Go hurry the Black Feather Merchant Association along and make them bring the Barbarians over. If they're not here tonight, I'll make you duel one of them one-on-one!!"
Anor's face stiffened. He thought of those ferocious muscle-bound brutes, then looked at his own skinny frame and immediately chickened out.
That was a one-sided match if he'd ever seen one.
After Anor scampered off, Loren turned to Robert.
"When the Barbarians arrive, pick out suitable armor for them. Someone in the guild handles the weapon and armor trade, right?"
Robert replied at once.
"The Blackstone Merchant Guild specializes in weapons and armor. I've already sent someone to notify them. They'll send people to take the Barbarians' measurements."
"How's the armor market these days?"
"Lord Loren, armor is divided into five grades: S, A, B, C, and D.
Anything above A-grade is transcendent armor, and it's extremely expensive. S-grade armor is the stuff of legend, and none is currently for sale on the market.
At the moment, the guild only sells B-, C-, and D-grade armor.
B-grade armor costs one million Puke per set,
C-grade armor costs five hundred thousand Puke per set,
D-grade armor costs two hundred thousand Puke per set,
and ungraded armor costs about fifty thousand Puke per set."
Loren's mouth twitched as he listened.
He had spent fifteen million Puke to buy 120 Barbarians.
He had also spent one million on 67 human slaves at the Jasmine Flower Merchant Guild.
Out of his total funds of twenty-five million, only nine million remained.
At the price of D-grade armor and weapons, equipping one Barbarian would cost two hundred thousand Puke.
Even if he spent every last coin, he could only equip 45 Barbarians.
Damn, that was far too few.
Loren's eyelid twitched. That twenty-five million hadn't lasted long at all.
"Get each of these 120 Barbarians a set of ungraded armor. Of the remaining three million, use one million to buy food and other necessities, and keep the other two million in reserve."
He had thought earning twenty-five million would let him enjoy himself for a while, but somehow he'd ended up right back where he started.
"Yes, Lord Loren."
Robert didn't dare say much. After what had happened at the slave market, Loren's authority had been firmly established.
He immediately arranged for people to carry out the order.
Watching Robert hurry off to work, Loren felt a little better.
Aside from making money, his biggest reason for forming the merchant alliance was to have people who could handle things for him when situations like this arose.
All he had to do was give an order, and the guild members would take care of everything. He didn't need to spend any extra effort.
And since the supplies were being purchased from guilds within the alliance, its members would profit, making them even more eager to get the job done.
From that perspective, forming the merchant alliance had been a win-win.
Not only had he gained a large sum of money out of nowhere, but he had also acquired a great deal of manpower he could put to work, along with the network of connections those guilds had built.
More importantly, the guilds were now his partners in name, but as he grew stronger, they would also become an extension of his power.
And the guilds that had joined the alliance were more than happy with the arrangement.
So Loren was extremely pleased with his first move in Decker City. Calling it a stroke of genius wouldn't have been an exaggeration.
He rested until dusk. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the front courtyard, and a servant came to report.
"Master Loren, the Barbarians have arrived. Guildmaster Robert requests your presence."
With that, he pushed over a wheelchair he had just bought.
This world was full of danger, and adventurers often suffered injuries or disabilities, so wheelchairs weren't unusual.
Loren waved it away. After resting, some strength had returned to his withered body.
His legs trembling, he got to his feet and slowly made his way toward the front courtyard.
A moment later, Loren arrived in the courtyard, his face even paler than that of a man who'd overindulged.
A group of Barbarians, all bandaged and bruised, watched him approach with complicated expressions.
This seemingly frail devil was the one who had taken them all down single-handedly—and he had done it while Silver Grade.
The Barbarians lived in a frigid land, where only the strongest leader could guide them to survive. That was why they admired the strong more than other races did.
Loren had defeated them all through the kind of brute force they respected most. There was no doubt he had earned their recognition.
The nobles who had tried to conquer them before had relied on using higher-grade fighters to crush lower-grade ones. The Barbarians had despised that, and had never intended to submit.
Only Loren, this monster, had exceeded all their expectations.
Loren grinned and looked at them.
"Highland Barbarians, from today on, you'll become the army of Gray Eagle Territory, under my personal command!"
"Where is your Chieftain?"
At his words, the Barbarians parted, revealing their leader: a Barbarian Chieftain standing two meters tall, with the build of a giant.
The Barbarian Chieftain, who had been a bloody, unrecognizable mess, had recovered to about seventy or eighty percent. Clearly, the priest had treated him.
Loren's face was pale and his body weak, as if he might collapse at any moment. But his eyes were sharp as blades as he stared straight into the Barbarian Chieftain's eyes.
He didn't back down.
Against the Barbarian Chieftain's enormous, rhinoceros-like frame, Loren seemed to have the upper hand in their battle of wills.
Fiana kept her eyes fixed on the Barbarian Chieftain, her body tensed to the limit. If he made any suspicious move, she would draw her sword and attack at once.
The two stared at each other, and the air abruptly fell silent.
After a long while, the imposing Barbarian Chieftain slowly lowered his head. Then, before everyone's eyes, he dropped to one knee.
"Lord Loren, your strength has earned our recognition.
"The Frost Tribe is willing to join Gray Eagle Territory and become your followers."
The hundred or so Barbarians behind him also slowly bent down, kneeling on one knee and striking their chests with their right fists.
The Highland Barbarians, who feared no death and never submitted, now knelt in the humblest posture before their new king.
At that moment, the pale-faced, utterly feeble young man seemed to radiate a charisma that captivated everyone around him.
Perhaps some people were simply born to lead.
Fiana slowly released her grip on her sword hilt. A hint of warmth crept into her cold eyes.
Perhaps she hadn't been wrong to accept the Bauhinia Flower Grand Duke's offer.
Before you continue