Endless yellow sands gleamed with a brilliant golden sheen beneath the blazing sunlight.
These were the golden sand grains unique to the Great Desert of Salokma, shimmering as though they were genuine gold. Because of this, Salokma was also known as the Golden Kingdom.
Yet this wondrous spectacle was merely the work of a legendary mage who, many years ago, had cast the legendary spell World Weaving over Salokma, permanently altering the dead desert's atmosphere. Ever since, whenever the sun beat down upon the sands, it cast a dazzling golden glow across the dunes.
And all of it had been done purely for aesthetics.
In the end, sand was still just sand. Once taken beyond the borders of Salokma, it was no different from ordinary grit.
Furthermore, because the daytime desert was blindingly radiant, the local inhabitants were forced to wear specially crafted tinted goggles; without them, anyone in this sea of gold would go completely blind within minutes.
Deep beneath the floor of this golden desert lay countless labyrinthine catacombs, rumored to be the remnants of a previous civilization.
Even after excavating these underground tombs for several centuries, Salokma had uncovered only the tip of the iceberg. Still, the ancient relics and treasures unearthed from within were more than enough for Salokma to enjoy peace and prosperity.
It was fair to say that the entire economy of the Salokma Dwarven Kingdom was built upon grave-robbing.
Consequently, what these desert dwarves excelled at most was digging pits, tunneling, breaking seals, and disarming magical traps... It was just that such skills proved somewhat inadequate on a frontal battlefield.
Against the iron cavalry of the Ryan Empire, the desert dwarves' fortifications were hardly sturdier than paper.
Shouting praises to the Holy Light and marching under the banner of liberating human slaves, the paladins had mopped the floor with Salokma for years on end.
What frustrated the desert dwarves even more was that these religious zealots displayed incredible patience.
A dwarf had once suggested to the dwarven king that they feign weakness to lure the Ryan Empire deep into their territory alone, allowing them to exploit the harsh desert environment to wear down and crush the invaders. In practice, however, while the Ryan forces fought relentlessly, they never rushed ahead. Whenever they took a city, they immediately began preaching, refusing to advance a single step until every resident within the walls had converted to the Lord of the Dawn.
Even when bait was dangled right before their eyes, they possessed the discipline to leave it untouched.
It was as if they had anticipated the dwarves' strategy long ago. Over the years, they steadily drilled their troops in the border desert cities, seemingly determined to forge a paladin army fully adapted to the desert environment before delivering a decisive blow.
Faced with an enemy they couldn't defeat who also never made mistakes, the Golden Kingdom had slipped into a slow, lingering death. Although the Ryan Empire's advance was agonizingly slow, every step was rock-solid. Even if the empire were to abandon every city it had conquered right now, the Golden Kingdom likely couldn't reclaim them, for the hearts of the people had long since changed.
Under these dire circumstances, the dwarven king had no choice but to shift his policy and inaugurate a century-long Great Fusion Plan.
Within the Golden Kingdom, any non-human race could obtain equal civil rights—including the undead, who were despised by nearly every other race. As long as they were willing to abide by the laws of the Golden City, anyone could live within these lands.
It was under this very policy that Heji Stone had once again become a legitimate citizen of the Golden City.
Deep within one of the underground catacombs, two points of crimson light ignited. Beneath the dim flicker of candlelight, a face of resolute, chiseled contours emerged. Unlike delicate, effeminate vampires, Heji Stone possessed features sculpted like marble, and his gaze was profound and imposing.
Heji Stone commanded the orc kneeling before him, "Come here, my breakfast."
The burly orc's eyes were dull and glazed as he stepped forward, pace by pace. Heji Stone rose slowly, his towering frame wrapped in a long cloak that made him appear at least two meters tall.
Yet as he drifted forward, the outline of two feet showed right where his stomach ought to be.
Heji Stone was one meter tall, levitated one point two meters off the ground, and tread on empty air until he was in front of the genuinely two-meter-tall orc, sinking his fangs straight into the creature's neck.
After sucking greedily for a few mouthfuls, Heji Stone tossed the orc aside in disgust.
"Orcs every single day. Can't we ever switch things up?" Heji Stone complained, thoroughly displeased.
From the shadows, two dwarf servants hurried forward and said in a panic, "Master, if it isn't an orc, finding a virgin these days is nearly impossible."
"Sigh, whenever war breaks out, moral standards just plummet."
Heji Stone sighed with regret. Vampires genuinely preferred eras of peace and prosperity. A larger population meant an abundant food supply; once war raged and people died in droves, the survivors were seldom appetizing.
Disgusted as he was, Heji Stone knew his servants had done their best. When the times were bad, no amount of effort could change the reality.
Heji Stone wiped the lingering traces of blood from his lips and asked his servants, "Are the gargoyles I told you to prepare ready yet?"
At the mention of this, the corner of Heji Stone's mouth twitched uncontrollably.
Just what kind of relationship did that newcomer have with the Queen of the Rose? Three sentences from her had cost him an arm and a leg.
Top-tier gargoyles! He had fewer than a hundred in his own stockpile, yet he was forced to give away twenty. The heartache felt like a wooden stake slowly piercing his chest, agonizingly grinding back and forth between killing him and keeping him alive.
Yet Heji Stone didn't dare refuse.
The Queen of the Rose had spoken, and he truly did not have the courage to disobey.
This naturally led Heji Stone to wonder about the newcomer's ties to the queen, that she would show such blatant favoritism. Not daring to be negligent, Heji Stone found himself growing increasingly curious about Anbaixiu.
Opening the Necrotic Codex, he prepared to message Anbaixiu and have him cover the shipping costs. Gargoyles were massive items, and teleportation fees were far from cheap; any loss he could recoup was a win.
Yet before he could send anything, a private message from Anbaixiu popped up first.
[Ultraman Tiga: Senior, do you have any connections with the desert dwarves? I captured a few high elf Twilight Guards and was wondering if the desert dwarves might be interested.]
Huh? The elves had already made their move?
Heji Stone was rather surprised. According to intelligence, the elves were supposed to still be gathering their forces. This newcomer should be deep in the heartland of the City of Alchemy—how could he encounter elven troops at a time like this?
[Dislikes Humans: What happened? The elves showed up on your doorstep? I do have some connections with the desert dwarves, but they're as stubborn as rocks. You can't give them false intel, or they'll blacklist you from trading forever.]
Heji Stone still worried Anbaixiu might be peddling fake information. They were undead, after all; there was nothing an undead wouldn't do.
[Ultraman Tiga: Don't worry, I recorded this. You can see for yourself.]
Accepting Anbaixiu's transfer request, Heji Stone watched as a memory crystal materialized from the Necrotic Codex.
Activating the crystal's playback, he saw that it was indeed authentic: elven Twilight Guards, twelve in total.
Heji Stone couldn't help viewing Anbaixiu's strength in a whole new light. The Twilight Guard were the elite of the elven race. Defeating them wasn't impossible, but capturing so many alive was an extraordinary feat.
*Are all the newcomers these days this formidable?*
Heji Stone marveled inwardly, then hurriedly replied to Anbaixiu: [No problem. I'll help you reach out to the desert dwarves. I'm certain they'll be very interested in the elves.]
[Ultraman Tiga: Thank you for your help, Senior. I'll take care of the gargoyle shipping fees myself.]
[Dislikes Humans: You're quite generous, brother.]
The moment Heji Stone sent that reply, he suddenly felt that something was amiss. Hadn't he already planned to negotiate having Anbaixiu pay the shipping costs anyway?
How had he ended up spending a favor to broker a connection, only for it to be brushed aside as compensation for shipping? Didn't that mean he had thrown away a favor for nothing?
Had this newcomer calculated that he would ask for shipping fees and preemptively blocked him with this move?
*No way... could he really be that absurd? I must be overthinking things,* Heji Stone consoled himself.
Still, even if he took a slight loss on Anbaixiu's end, it didn't matter—he was the middleman. How much these elves would sell for still had to be negotiated between him and the desert dwarves. There was plenty of room to profit off the price difference.
After steadying his nerves, Heji Stone discussed the details of the gargoyle and elf transaction with Anbaixiu. Once the particulars were settled, Heji Stone ordered his servant to deliver the letter.
Since this concerned a major matter regarding the elves, he was confident his letter would reach the dwarven king's hands directly.
Heji Stone had to prepare thoroughly. He needed to squeeze a handsome sum out of this to make up for the loss of those twenty top-tier gargoyles.
***
Back on his end, Anbaixiu was delighted after receiving Heji Stone's reply.
Sure enough, choosing the right buyer made all the difference. Last time, attempting to ransom Alan Watson to his own father had brought down a swarm of paladins. Selling elves to their hostile rivals—now *this* was how real business was done.
Once his excitement subsided, Anbaixiu threw himself back into his work.
The order for the Porcupine Knight needed to be fulfilled as soon as possible. He needed this lord to help build his reputation. Just imagine: when the Porcupine Knight swept across neighboring territories with his skeleton army, wouldn't plenty of people realize the benefits of a lich war loan?
Using the undead to fight wars required only gold coins. There was no need to worry about logistics, nor did it disrupt local farming or construction. They were the perfect weapons of war.
The more people who knew about it, the more clients would naturally flock to Anbaixiu to purchase undead.
The more clients there were and the fiercer the fighting grew, the faster the undead would be depleted.
They would continually demand more undead and higher-tier units.
It would become an arms race. Whether one liked it or not, once buying undead troops became the norm, everyone would be forced to join the rat race.
And as the sole undead arms dealer in the City of Alchemy, Anbaixiu would enjoy a never-ending stream of gold coins.
The mere thought of that future made his very soul tremble with exhilaration.
No more wasting time; he needed to assemble the undead army immediately. As his walking billboard, the Porcupine Knight deserved only the very best.
Chapter 95