Entering the Depths of the Wasteland

Chapter 78: Entering the Depths of the Wasteland

Wald was overjoyed. He knew not only that he would survive, but that he would also gain significantly from this. The new leader of the orcs, though young, was exceptionally composed and possessed a nobility that far surpassed that of other orcs. Wald had not used the wrong word—nobility.

It had been three days since they had started walking deep into the Gravel Wasteland. The thirty camel beasts and all the goods were intact, and the remaining four hired workers were accompanied by six strong orcs. The giant battle axes they carried on their shoulders emitted a black gleam, which was oddly reassuring. Barok had promised Wald that as long as he helped find the ancestral relics of the orcs, Barok would not only ensure Wald completed his transaction with the lizardmen but also guarantee his safety and escort them out of the Gravel Wasteland.

Throughout the journey, Wald showered Barok with compliments and chatted amiably with him. He was surprised to discover that he had underestimated this orc leader. Barok was fluent in the common language of the continent and had even done some rudimentary studies in the Holy Tongue used by mages and the clergy. He was optimistic, confident, and spoke elegantly, possessing knowledge that rivaled that of great nobles. He was proficient in mathematics, capable of instantly calculating the most complex accounts in his head—accounts that would take Wald, an experienced merchant, half a day to sort out.

Barok was also skilled in cartography. After merely glancing at Wald's sparse map of the Gravel Wasteland and asking a few detailed questions, Barok drew a complete map on a piece of animal hide. The map was clear and detailed, even depicting small mountain ranges and oases with impressive accuracy. Such talent was beyond the capabilities of even royal cartographers.

Barok trained his people in a near-brutal manner. The six young orcs not only carried hundred-pound battle axes but also had hundred-pound bags of salt on their backs. Barok rode a camel beast, driving these six men to jog ahead. If anyone paused, they would be punished by not being allowed to eat dinner. Despite their strength, even the orcs struggled to bear over two hundred pounds while walking for three hours under the scorching sun.

Barok completely ignored the sweat-soaked, staggering bodies of his tribe. He even sang while sitting on the camel beast. His song was unlike anything Wald had ever heard, but it was extremely pleasant. At the very least, everyone was completely captivated by the melody.

"In that faraway place, there is a lovely girl...

People passing by her tent all turn back to gaze at her...

Her rosy smile is like the red sun...

Her beautiful, enchanting eyes are like the bright moon at night...

I wish to roam the grasslands and tend sheep with her...

I wish to be a little sheep, staying by her side...

I wish for her to hold a fine whip and gently strike me..."

Barok's voice was melodious and magnetic. After singing a few times, the orcs began to hum along, and even the burden of the battle axes and salt bags felt lighter. The human workers also joined in, with the younger ones memorizing the song to sing to their sweethearts back home, hoping to win their affection.

Wald concluded that Barok was a respectable orc, admiring him for the first time.

The journey was not without its challenges. The harshness of the wasteland was not limited to its climate; dangers lurked everywhere. Over the past three days, the orcs had already killed several five to six-meter-long sand snakes. Barok's war pet, a giant frost wolf, had even killed a magical beast called a Sand Python, dragging its ten-meter-long body back, much to everyone's astonishment.

After a few days of travel, filled with minor mishaps but no major incidents, they finally saw a patch of green in the distance as the camel beasts let out happy grunts and quickened their pace.

This was the first oasis they encountered. It had only a dozen short, scrubby desert cycads and clusters of brown thorns. In the middle, near a few jujube trees, was a small waterhole.

For the frost wolf, the dry, arid weather was unbearable. Seeing the clear, sweet water, it let out a long howl and rushed forward, plunging into the water. Barok shouted, "Rak, be careful!"

Before he could finish, Rak was already in the water, rolling and splashing, replenishing its lost moisture. Seeing that there was no immediate danger, the human workers began to drive the camel beasts to drink. Suddenly, Barok's sharp eyes caught a movement in the soft sand near the waterhole, as if something was lurking beneath.

"Rak, come back!" Barok called urgently. In unfamiliar territory, one had to be cautious. Just as the frost wolf reluctantly stood up and started walking back, a yellow-brown figure shot out from the soft sand, streaking towards Rak at great speed. Instinctively, Rak crouched and unleashed an ice blade spell, sending shards of ice towards the yellow-brown figure.

To everyone's shock, the figure was not sliced to pieces by the sharp ice blades but was merely knocked back, landing in the sand before getting up and hissing angrily, continuing its assault on Rak. This time, five or six more figures leaped out from different directions. Rak's ice blade spell exploded, baring its teeth and roaring furiously.

The yellow-brown figures were knocked back again, but one managed to get close to Rak, slashing at its side. The frost wolf's body was naturally covered with a layer of solid ice, and the claw only chipped off some ice, not harming Rak, but it startled the wolf nonetheless.

Barok finally saw what those figures were—lizardmen! Standing four to five feet tall, with snake-like heads, thick tails making up half their length, walking upright, with curved, sharp black claws on their upper limbs, and covered in sturdy yellow-brown scales. Their eyes were small, protruding, and set on the sides of their heads.

"Rak, come back, don't harm these lizardmen!" Barok saw that Rak was about to fully unleash its fury and hurriedly called it back. If the wolf went berserk, it would freeze all seven or eight lizardmen solid!

Reluctantly, Rak obeyed and ran back to Barok, wagging its tail. The lizardmen stopped their attack and gathered together, glaring at the intruders with hostility.

"We mean no harm, lizardmen," Barok said, delegating the negotiation to Wald, a merchant's specialty. Wald smiled at the angry lizardmen, trying to communicate.

To humans, lizardmen were even more lowly and inferior than orcs. Wald wasn't sure if these primitive creatures could understand the common language of the continent. Thankfully, his concern was unnecessary. A particularly tall lizardman, seemingly their leader, spoke with a hiss in his voice: "Outsiders, why do you spoil our water? Are you sent by the White Lizard Tribe of Crescent Oasis to kill us? You've taken our home, why do you still want to kill our best people?"

"Please don't misunderstand. We are merchants from outside the Gravel Wasteland, here to trade with the lizardmen. We have no intention of interfering in your tribal affairs. And we didn't mean to spoil your water. Our companion was just overly excited after days without water, and we apologize for that!" Wald hurriedly explained. Merchants feared getting involved in racial conflicts because it often spelled danger unless one was a speculating scoundrel.

Seeing the thirty tall desert camels and the goods on their backs, as well as the sturdy orcs, the lizardmen's eyes lit up with a fervent gaze—this was a vast fortune. But those fierce orcs and their huge, sharp battle axes were not just for show. The lizardmen weren't fools; they knew what to do.

Their hostility lessened slightly, but the leader remained cautious. "What goods do you carry? What do you want to trade with us? Perhaps I have something you seek."

"Salt, ale, iron pots, cloth... and gold coins. We seek Blue Crystal Gold... oh no, it's called Black Sandstone." Wald listed the goods on the camels, watching the lizardmen's eyes nearly pop out with greed. They were very primitive and had an insatiable desire for these items, especially the shiny gold coins, which they adored even more than practical items like iron pots and salt.

Barok knew that Black Sandstone was the raw ore of Blue Crystal Gold, mined by the lizardmen from the deep sands of the desert. The raw ore was so inconspicuous that the lizardmen, with their obsession for shiny things, didn't even bother to keep it.

"You want Black Sandstone too?" The lizardman leader asked with a hint of resentment. "Why do you outsiders crave this useless black rock? If it weren't for your greed, our oasis wouldn't have been taken over by the White Lizard Tribe."

Another group is trading with the lizardmen? Barok pondered: The search for the ancestral relics must be kept secret. If possible, it's best to investigate quietly first.

"We need Black Sandstone, but we will trade fairly with the lizardmen and not incite tribal conflicts," Barok said. "What do you know about the people who incited the White Lizard Tribe to attack you? Maybe we can help you."

The Yellow Lizardman leader didn't hesitate to say, "A human named Lind and his companion Schaumburg led a group of humans with even more camels and goods,

 trading Black Sandstone all over the inner wasteland. They've incited nearly all the lizard tribes to dig for Black Sandstone. These stones are rare, and nearly all have been collected by him, causing the larger tribes to plunder us smaller ones, taking our homes and digging in our sands for the stones."

Lind and Schaumburg? Barok was surprised. When he captured the Delta Marquis' steward, Buleman, outside the Delta city manor, Buleman had revealed the Marquis' plot against Celine and Lind's impending rebellion to save his life. So Barok thought: If Lind and Schaumburg are here in the Gravel Wasteland, their rebellion must have failed! But why are they gathering Blue Crystal Gold?

Barok felt there might be something very interesting about this situation!