A new round of discussion began.
In the end, the envoy of the Scorched-Earth Warcry Tribe left with the terms Charles had laid out.
Charles wanted nothing else. If they wanted him to lead his cavalry into war against the Howling Children of the Wasteland, then they had to provide enough resources.
Simple tree seeds, artworks, and pretty feathers—were they trying to fool some elven idiot with that?
The only things he wanted were Magic Stones or materials for magical potions.
Charles opened his jaws like a lion and demanded goods worth around three hundred thousand Magic Stones from the Scorched-Earth Warcry Tribe.
As long as the money was in place, his troops could set out immediately and strike at the Howling Children of the Wasteland.
After dealing with the Scorched-Earth Warcry Tribe.
Charles went on to receive the envoy of the Crimson Caravan Alliance.
These merchants were clearly much smarter. They had sent a half-elf.
They knew that the ruler here was an elf. If they had sent a pure-blooded elf, the effect would have been even better.
But they had no pure-blooded elves among their members, so they could only settle for the next best thing and send a half-elf instead.
This half-elf wore traditional elven attire. He was handsome and carried an arrogant look on his face.
But the moment he entered and saw Charles, that arrogance vanished completely.
The gap between them was simply too obvious.
One was merely a half-elf with Wood Elf blood, someone who would not even count as a noble in the Avenor Elven Court.
If he had been a noble, he would not have gone into the caravan trade, much less come all the way to the Land of Chaos to run caravans.
The other was a pure-blooded Sun Elf, and