Chapter 532: Harvest

Chapter 532: Chapter 344: Harvest

The battle was essentially over. Rows of captives, guarded by the Barbarians, squatted obediently on the ground, their hands on their heads.

The Centaurs led away the warhorses, unable to hide the broad smiles on their faces. As nomads, they might not know how to farm, but they were absolute masters at raising cattle, sheep, and fine horses. With so many new, powerful warhorses for High Cliff Castle, they would surely be able to breed a herd of foals next year.

Leiden had already led a small squad straight to the enormous slave ship, taking care of the few remaining sailors on board.

Si Kai hadn’t expected High Cliff Castle’s forces to crush the enemy so quickly. He was so focused that he didn’t even notice his Lord had come up behind him.

Fortunately, the situation didn’t look too pathetic; it was only a matter of time before he took down his opponent.

With nothing better to do, the Warriors of High Cliff Castle formed a large circle, arms crossed, to watch the enemy leader’s final struggle.

Kemish was no fool. After all, a fool could never have amassed a slave ship and five thousand elite soldiers.

It was only now that he realized with a start: this young man who had suddenly appeared was the true Lord of High Cliff Castle.

Men often find a burst of strength in desperate moments. He parried the descending Longsword. With their minds connected, the Sofen Giant Wolf instantly knew what its master intended. It bounded past him, charging the lord-like young man and snapping its cavernous jaws at him.

This scene ignited the surrounding Barbarians’ excitement, and they erupted in a chorus of wild whistles.

As Kemish charged in right behind his wolf, watching this play out, his heart sank to his boots. He had the distinct feeling he had just done something utterly foolish.

SMACK!

With a loud crack, Kemish froze, watching a black shadow—his wolf—fly past him in the opposite direction, moving even faster than it had on its charge.

“Son of a bitch. Do I look like some kind of pushover?” Levi sneered. He lashed out with a vicious kick, completely extinguishing any hope Kemish had of breaking through.

The kick left a deep, boot-shaped dent in the expensive Chest Armor and sent Kemish flying backward, just like his wolf. He tumbled several times across the ground before landing on his back and spitting up a mouthful of blood.

He felt like he’d been hit by a Giant Stone weighing tens of thousands of pounds. His whole body felt like it was about to fall apart. The man’s Power was simply inhuman!

Zamanzi, ever the troublemaker, scurried over to Kemish’s side and began a flawless imitation of a Gladiatorial Arena referee’s count. He got down on the grass and started slapping the ground. “Get up! You haven’t lost yet! If you beat our boss, you can walk free! Ten… nine… eight… seven…”

“I… I…”

“What’s that? You want to get back up and fight?” Zamanzi asked, his face alight with excitement.

“I surrender! I surrender!” Kemish nearly blacked out when he heard that. “I surrender!” he screamed in terror.

In his daze, he felt like he’d just seen his great-grandmother, who had been dead for years. How could he possibly survive another hit like that?

“BOOOO!” The watching Barbarians, who had been full of anticipation, now showed their disdain by flipping him off with both hands. They hopped over with ropes and deftly tied him up like a stuffed pig.

After all, they always got excited when someone tried to challenge their boss. If the challenger actually put up a fight, it was even better entertainment. But this guy couldn’t even last a single round.

‘Back when we were in the Gladiatorial Arena…’ they thought. ‘Ah, never mind. A good Barbarian doesn’t dwell on past glories.’

The battle was now well and truly over. One iron-hulled slave ship and five small ocean-going patrol vessels were now completely Mastered by High Cliff Castle’s forces.

The Lord swept his cape aside and led the way onto the deck of the iron-hulled ship with a powerful, majestic stride.

It wasn’t until they stepped aboard that they truly grasped the ship’s immense size. These country bumpkins, who had spent their entire lives roaming the Wilderness, had never seen a vessel of this class—most had never even seen a fishing boat. They went around touching everything, like old farmers visiting the city for the first time.

“Strip this fool’s Armor off for me,” the Lord commanded, seating himself grandly on an oak barrel that had been used for fresh water. The howling sea wind made his cape whip and snap.

He wasn’t blind. He’d seen at a glance that the Plate Armor worn by this noble from the Persian Gulf Kingdom was, for fuck’s sake, inlaid with gemstones. It was ridiculously gaudy.

A Barbarian kicked the back of Kemish’s knees, forcing him to kneel, and then roughly stripped off his Armor.

Kemish didn’t resist. He didn’t dare. Losers were to be stripped of everything; that was the rule of the world. Still, being forced to kneel was a profound humiliation. He was the one others knelt to, never the other way around.

“Boss, you already kicked this Armor to hell. It’s not worth much now. We can only pry the gems off and melt it down,” the Barbarians commented, gathering around to give their frank assessment.

“You guys don’t know shit,” the Lord said, holding the Armor with a gleeful expression. “If this was worth three hundred Gold Coins before, it’s worth at least three thousand now.”

“Ever heard of a collectible?” the Lord continued. “Before, this was just a normal suit of Armor inlaid with some gems. But now? Now it’s not normal at all. There’s not another one like it in the whole world.”

Levi knew the minds of collectors all too well. As his fame grew, this suit of Armor, a record of this historical moment, would become incredibly significant—and worth a fortune.

A group of Barbarians turned away, muttering and sneering in a dark corner. ‘So a print from your big-ass foot is worth a few thousand Gold Coins, huh? If one of us took a piss on it, would that make it worth a few hundred?’