A Good Deal

All Goblins are insatiable bastards, but when it comes to choosing between their lives and their money, every qualified merchant knows exactly what to do. After all, as long as one stays alive, the business of making money is practically effortless for a Goblin skilled in calculation!

In front of the imposing knight, this seasoned merchant had already written off his potential earnings as a total loss, but out of Goblin instinct, he still put on a look of profound distress. Even if he were to sell at rock-bottom prices, he had to at least leave an impression on the wealthy and noble-looking boy before him, letting the other party know he was taking a loss for the sake of their acquaintance—this was the wisdom of a small-time operator.

Thinking of this, Fizzle put on a nervous expression, rubbing his hands together vigorously as he carefully organized his words: "My lord, you know how it is—how could these savage things possibly understand so much? If you are interested in my cargo, I can give you a discount. Two silver coins, I really can't go any lower!"

The Goblin merchant was not lying; two silver coins was a perfectly fair price, perhaps even a bit low. Although the dozens of Gnolls and Kobolds behind him were all battered, most had suffered no broken bones, and they were almost all in their prime. For any buyer, this would be a good deal.

If the sale went through smoothly, he would at least have enough for travel expenses and startup capital. If this boy was simple-hearted enough, he might even provide some level of help, who knows? Fizzle looked at the luxuriously dressed boy, his mind already beginning to imagine what his comeback would look like.

But this time, Alvin disappointed the Goblin. He was merely asking out of curiosity; if he wanted to get his hands on some Gnolls, he could simply have Abberton take men to the forest outside and catch a batch. He believed Mayor Martin would never refuse such a small request from a prince, though whether his father would punish him for it later was another matter entirely...

Upon learning there were no rare specimens capable of speaking Common, the boy no longer intended to linger. Seeing that it was nearly noon, he still had to find his way back to City Hall!

Thinking of this, Alvin spread his hands toward the Goblin merchant, feigning helplessness, and said with regret: "I see. I had thought there might be something interesting, but I suppose I'll pass."

This brat isn't following the script! Fizzle, who had just been immersed in fantasies of a comeback, felt as if a thousand mythical beasts were stampeding through his heart. He stared blankly at the boy who had already turned away, his mouth hanging open, not knowing what to say.

What could he do? Force a sale? He imagined that knight, who looked like a mountain, would be more than happy to find an opportunity to teach him a lesson!

To expand his trade routes, the Goblin merchant had traveled thousands of miles from Booty Bay, bringing a batch of Goblin-made engineering tools to Lordaeron to make a fortune. When he landed in Southshore, unfamiliar with the area, he had chosen not to hire guards to save money, instead paying to join a large, well-established merchant caravan.

As luck would have it, while crossing the Alterac Mountains, the caravan had the misfortune of running into these damned Gnoll bandits!

Over a hundred mercenaries fought valiantly, and it cost the lives of thirty warriors to subdue these monsters. Then, before Fizzle, who had been hiding under a carriage, could even celebrate his survival, his cargo was seized by the survivors of the caravan under the guise of "compensation"...

Those greedy bandits left him with only these dozens of tightly bound monsters. If those fellows hadn't been "kind" enough to bring him all the way to the vicinity of Andorhal before parting ways, the powerless merchant likely wouldn't have even made it out of the Alterac Mountains!

Afterward, Fizzle shook off those scoundrels and entered the bustling town of Andorhal, but his suffering did not end; the nightmare continued.

The silver-tongued Goblin merchant had lingered at the busy docks for days, but he hadn't been able to offload these monsters. He was now so poor he couldn't even afford food for the bastards. The relentless torment had nearly bottomed out his coin purse, and the penny-pinching Fizzle was on the verge of a breakdown.

"It's all the fault of these beasts who should go see the demons!"

Seeing that Alvin had turned to leave, the Goblin merchant, not daring to lash out at the master and servant, could only vent his rage on his cargo. He would let these shameful bandits know how terrifying it was to offend the future trade tycoon, Fizzle!

Burning with fury, the Goblin merchant unhooked the leather whip from his waist, turned to the largest Gnoll, and lashed out viciously: "Damned beasts, I'll sell you all to the slaughterhouse this afternoon to be feed for the nobles' dogs!"

"A warrior's honor is not for you to defile, green-skinned scum!"

A shout erupted from among the Gnoll captives. Although the tone was strange due to the limitations of his vocal organs, the words were unmistakably in Common!

When that strangely articulated sentence rang out behind him, Alvin keenly sensed a distinct surge of energy. Immediately following, a crackling sound and a high-pitched, uniquely Goblin scream reached his ears.

He stopped in his tracks and spun around sharply. He saw an aged Gnoll standing in the middle of the pile of captives, the ropes that should have been binding him now gone. But what truly surprised the boy was that the creature's sharp claws still seemed to retain traces of magical fluctuation, with a visible spark of electricity dancing between them.

Looking down, the Goblin merchant who had been haggling with him had been reduced to a blackened husk, lying on the ground and twitching, emitting the smell of charred meat.

Only sparing a glance for the unfortunate merchant, the prince refocused on the menacing Gnoll spellcaster. The gathering ball of electricity in the creature's claws clearly revealed his identity to everyone—a Shaman, a spellcaster who established close communication with natural elements like earth, air, fire, and water, and used that connection to channel the violent power of the elements to deliver devastating blows to enemies!

The Gnoll Shaman's eyes glowed with a blood-red light, fixed intently on the young prince. Facing this hostile stranger, Alvin's expression shifted abruptly. He nimbly stepped back, and with a reflexive wave of his hand, he wove a barrier of Holy Light before him.