The tax collector's caravan consisted of over a hundred wagons, rumbling grandly out of the borders of the Forest of Misfortune.
With Revendreth's backward social system, which was close to the later European Middle Ages.
The scale of this caravan was definitely one of the top ones!
Yet in Herad's eyes, it was very average.
How much loading capacity could these backward wagons possibly have?
He estimated it was only around two tons, not much better than an electric tricycle on Earth.
Add over a hundred of them together, and it stretched to the scale of two hundred tons of cargo at most.
If a heavy truck driver was ruthless enough, they could pull all of this cargo away.
With just this little cargo, Herad could fit it all inside a Magic Pouch.
However, he had to kill the owner of the cargo first before he could pocket these goods.
Seeing the caravan loaded with ore approaching, he jumped down from a large tree by the roadside and arrogantly blocked the center of the road.
The Venthyr soldiers at the front of the caravan saw someone blocking the road and simultaneously drew their weapons to point at the newcomer.
When they saw the dark red rapier hanging at the other's waist, they immediately hesitated on whether to put their weapons down.
Anyone equipped with a Sinvane Rapier was obviously a high-ranking noble.
However, before they could finish considering, a fear originating from the depths of their souls devoured them.
Even though they were already undead intelligent beings who had died once.
They were still ravaged by fear, and easily routed.
Some fled the caravan while screaming, and others were too terrified to even move.
There were even those whose souls were directly scared apart!
Undead being scared to death of