Chapter 399 - 322: Snatching a Person (Part 2)

Chapter 399: Chapter 322: Snatching a Person (Part 2)

"I don’t know why a goblin like you speaks Common Speech, or how you managed to stay hidden in Torch City. But to say you can shelter me... isn’t that thinking a little too highly of yourself?"

"Not at all." Shire smiled and shook his head. "If I say it, it’s because I’m confident I can do it. And I need to correct you on one thing—you’re not in Torch City anymore. You’re in Yangjiao Town."

"Yangjiao Town? Where’s that?" The old man stared blankly, then turned to Little John. "How long was I out? What did you do to me?"

"Not much, just a little chop like this," Little John said, making a chopping motion with his hand. "And no, you weren’t out for long."

"Let me clarify," Shire said, crouching down and staring at the old man with a smile in his eyes. "Yangjiao Town is in Count Valentine’s domain, right on the edge of the Nightmare Forest."

"The Nightmare Forest?" The old man’s eyes went wide. "You’re lying! I..."

But as he glanced between Shire and Little John, he saw no flicker of deception on their faces. It seemed they were telling the truth. "Four Gods above, that’s impossible. I must have been out for days."

"Untie him," Shire said, getting to his feet and pointing at the Magic Artisan on the floor. "If you don’t believe us, you can go and see for yourself. But don’t even think about running. If you do, I’ll have you captured and sent straight to the Adventurer Association. I imagine plenty of people there would be willing to trade you for a handsome bounty."

A moment later, Little John untied the ropes binding the old man. The man scrambled to his feet and eyed the goblin before him with suspicion. Shire, however, looked completely at ease, paying no mind to the old man’s expression.

"Am I really in Yangjiao Town?" he asked, sizing up the goblin from head to toe before glancing at Little John beside him.

"That’s right," Little John said with a nod.

"How did you do it? No, wait," the old man said, turning to stare at the goblin. "I should be asking *you*. How did you get me to the edge of the Nightmare Forest in such a short amount of time?"

Shire shrugged. "A little trick."

"A Teleportation Gate?" The old man let out a dry laugh. "Don’t tell me a goblin possesses a Teleportation Array, something only an Advanced Mage from a Great Noble family could have."

"You guessed correctly," Shire said, nodding with a smile.

His words made the old man’s laughter catch in his throat, like a rooster being strangled.

After a few seconds, he shouted, "I don’t believe it! A goblin and an Adventurer with a Teleportation Array? That’s completely impossible! You must have a High Tier Great Mage backing you!"

But Shire didn’t argue. Instead, he exchanged a look with Little John, and they both smiled confidently.

Their smiles left the old man, Marshall, stunned once more. He looked ahead and said tentatively, "You’re tricking me. There’s no Teleportation Array. I must have been unconscious for days. Unless... unless you show it to me."

"Once you willingly agree to work for me, I’ll let you see the Teleportation Gate. But not right now." Shire shook his head. ’Rune Speech is a completely new tool. Its operating principles are entirely different from all current Magic Models. I can’t just reveal it to an outsider yet.’

"Even if I wanted to work for you, what could I possibly do? Help you sharpen a stick? Tie a rock to a log?" the old man said disdainfully, not believing for a second that this goblin could afford to hire him. "I’m a Magic Artisan, not a common carpenter."

Shire sighed softly, not at all angered by the man’s dismissive tone. Instead, he pointed behind the old man. "Before you make your decision, I’d advise you to take a look behind you. Then you can confirm your choice."

"Hmph, what could possibly be behind me? A club made of fine wood... Oh, holy shit," he muttered, slowly turning his head. When he saw what was there, his disdainful expression vanished, and he shouted, "Four Gods above! What kind of bastard would just pile these things here so carelessly?"

He ignored Shire and Little John, running straight to the pile of Magical Beast bones. He bent down and began to pick them up. "You bastard! What kind of shoddy work is this? How could you treat bone materials this way? It’s such a waste!"

Shire watched the Magic Artisan’s frenzied state and couldn’t help but give a triumphant smile. ’For a man like this, the only way to get his attention is to pile a mountain of materials in front of him. It’s like giving a buggy piece of code to a software engineer, or dragging a victim’s corpse in front of a medical examiner.’

"If you’re willing to work for me, I can provide you with a vast supply of materials. Your skills definitely won’t go to waste," he said, walking up behind the old man. "And of course, you’ll be completely safe here. No one can harm you. As long as you keep working for me, you might even be able to create Magic Items with souls and become a ’Legendary Artisan’ in the future."

Shire knew that in this world, most Magic Artisans were former Mage Apprentices. Unlike Warriors, Knights, or Swordsmen, who had to train their bodies and take Enhancing Potions, a Mage’s path was determined more by talent. Many Mage Apprentices with little or poor talent were ultimately unable to continue their magical studies. After all, not everyone was like his sister, Vivian, whose Elemental Coordination for all Four Elements was 82.

Many of these failed Mage Apprentices would turn to studying the creation of Magic Tools to make a living. As their crafting skills improved, their reputations would grow, and many people—including Mages themselves—would seek them out to create or repair Magic Items.

In a way, it was their own form of vindication.

Only a very small number of Magic Artisans ever reached the pinnacle of their craft and began creating "Magic Items with souls." These items could communicate with people, possessed extraordinarily powerful abilities, and were the coveted treasures Mages dreamed of. The Magic Artisans who created these items were honored with the title of "Legendary Artisan."

But the old man paid no attention to Shire’s "Enchantment." He was still picking through the pile of bones, sighing as if Shire had committed a great sin by wasting precious resources. "Why are there only bones here? Are there no other materials?"

"Sorry, for now we only have these Magical Beast bones," Shire said with a helpless shrug. The goblins of the Feathered Serpent Kingdom had only "sent" him the pile of bones and no other materials. "However, if you need them, I can provide other materials. Or you could give me a detailed list, and I’ll have my people look out for them during collection."

Hearing Shire’s words, the old man stopped what he was doing. He stood still, his eyes fixed on the small mountain of bones before him. After a long moment, he finally spoke. "I can have any materials I need?"

"In principle, yes." Shire nodded. ’If he asks for something really difficult to get, I’ll go to Uncle Musa. If that doesn’t work, I can always trade with the Third Prince. As someone at the top of the Fran Kingdom’s hierarchy, he can definitely provide some good stuff.’

"I still have a lot of things back in Torch City. They’ve been with me for many years," the old man said, looking back at the goblin.

"Don’t worry, we’ll start moving them over tomorrow. I guarantee not a single thing will be left behind," Little John chimed in from behind him. He had seen the man’s workshop himself—it was a chaotic mess of items and tools. They would have to hire people to move it all. ’But I suppose we could hire those kids to help.’

"Alright. I agree." As if he had just made a monumental decision, the old man, Marshall, seemed to deflate. "To think I’d one day be taking orders from a goblin. I must be crazy."

He knew he was wanted by the nobility and that few places were safe for him now. This goblin who spoke Common Speech seemed incredibly mysterious and could procure a wealth of crafting materials. Maybe he really could offer him shelter.

"Remember your words," the old man said, staring at Shire and enunciating each word. "Legendary Artisan."

"I will," Shire said, nodding with a smile. "You won’t regret the choice you’ve made today."