Black Hearted Mage

Chapter 358 Trading with the Northerners

The hospitality and generosity of the northerners overwhelmed even the well-informed Kaisas. He had barely taken a seat on a wooden bench covered in animal hides when several northern maids with pigtails filed in, jingling and placing a variety of drinks before him—steaming milk tea, frothy ale, and fishy northern milk wine. The rich aroma of wine mixed with the fragrance of milk filled the warm inn.

Baturu, who was as big as a bear, laughed and clapped his hands. Several northern guards immediately took action and emptied all the shelves in the store on the left.

"Come, come, honorable magician!" Baturu said in his loud voice, "Take out all your treasures and let us open their eyes!" His big hands, roughened by wind and snow, kept rubbing them, and his eyes flashed with childlike expectation.

As Caesars removed more and more items from his interspatial ring, the entire store quickly transformed into a bizarre grocery store. Minerals emanating magical vibrations, shimmering plant specimens, and oddly shaped metal objects filled every corner. When the five- or six-meter-long strange object slammed to the floor with a thud, even the experienced Baturu gasped. The column, covered in fiery red scales, shone coldly under the light, its end still pierced by several broken bone spurs.

"Gods above!"

Baturu's beard trembled as his mouth opened wide. This strong man who could usually knock down a bull with his bare hands now changed his voice, "Magician Caesars, this... this can't be a tail..." He carefully touched the hard scales with his fingertips, then retracted his hand as if burned.

Kaisas took a sip of milk tea slowly, a mysterious smile on his face. "As you can see, Baturu, this is a tail—to be exact, the tip of a ground dragon's tail."

"Earth-walking dragon?!" Baturu's eyes widened even further. He suddenly turned and shouted in the northern dialect toward the door. Soon, a dozen curious northerners crowded the doorway, their voices whispering the same words over and over again.

Batulu turned around, his bronze face flushed with excitement. "Of course I know! Every child who grew up in the snowy north fell asleep listening to stories of earth dragons!" He gestured excitedly, "The elders said these giant beasts can swim underground like fish, and their scales are tougher than the hardest ice..." Halfway through his words, he suddenly seemed to realize something and looked at the seemingly weak magician in front of him in awe. "You couldn't have... hunted one alone..."

"I happened to encounter a wounded old dragon..." Kaisas deliberately wiped the non-existent sweat from his forehead, a trace of fear flashing in his eyes. "Although the beast was seriously injured, the hunting process was also extremely difficult! It was hiding in a winding lava tunnel, and the magma oozing from the rock wall dripped onto the ground with a sizzling sound. It was so hot in there that it was difficult to breathe. Even wearing specially made thick-soled boots, my feet would feel hot..."

Baturu unconsciously leaned forward, his rough fingers clenching the wine glass so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Just how big is the Earth Dragon?" he demanded eagerly, his voice slightly hoarse with excitement.

Caesars took a sip from his glass and gestured on the table. "From the head to the tip of the tail, it's almost fifty meters long." He paused, his eyes sweeping across the dome of the inn. "When the ground dragon stands up, it's almost twenty meters tall. Its head is particularly large..." He pointed to the pillar in the center of the tavern. "It's the size of half the inn!"

Baturu's beard-covered face instantly lost all color. He instinctively looked up at the towering shop rooftop, shuddering at the thought of such a behemoth standing before him. The ground dragon was an absolutely breathtaking behemoth, so massive that he had to crane his neck to see it fully.

"Magician Caesars..." Baturu suddenly slammed the table, shaking the wine glass so hard that it jumped up. His calloused palms trembled slightly with excitement. "Where's the skull of the earth dragon? I'll pay a high price for it! No matter how many gold coins it costs!"

"Baturu, the skull of the Earth Dragon is indeed still there, but as you know, it was originally incomplete, with one of the horns missing from the skull." Caesars looked around the crowded shop. "Look at this place now! These things alone take up most of the store. Even if we move the skull of the Earth Dragon out, there's no place to put it!"

"Then wait until we finish trading this batch of goods!" Batulu responded gruffly, turning and shouting to the outside: "Brothers from the North, come in and inspect the goods!"

Five or six burly northern craftsmen filed in, their rough fingers first caressing the salamander hides. These untanned leathers were as hard as iron, yet thanks to the unique northern leatherworking techniques, they exhibited astonishing resilience. The lead craftsman tugged at the edges, nodding with satisfaction.

The people of the North are very skilled in leatherworking. Although the leather armor they make is not very refined, its defensive power is comparable to that of magic steel armor.

As the scales of the local dragon were examined, the craftsmen let out low murmurs of admiration. Though covered in cracks, the crimson scales still shone with a metallic sheen under the light. "Complete dragon scales are indeed rare," an old craftsman with missing front teeth stroked the surface. "But we don't need a flashy dragon-scale shield. Inlay these fragments onto the heart and abdomen of the leather armor..." He gestured, and the other craftsmen nodded, clearly already formulating improvements.

The magic steel weapons of the Church of Saint Laurent were neatly stacked on the ground, carefully weighed by the Northerners using specially crafted bone scales. Though simple in form, these weapons, shimmering with a faint blue glow, each held a divine blessing. However, they were useless to the Northerners and could only be remelted.

"Master Magician!" Batulu suddenly raised his voice. By this time, the shop was mostly empty, and several young craftsmen were arguing over the tailbone of the earth dragon. He turned to Caesar impatiently and asked, "Isn't it time to bring out the skull?"

Caesars nodded slightly, his slender fingers gently stroking the storage ring. A faint blue magical light flowed through the dim hall. As the magical energy fluctuated, a huge skull fell to the ground with a loud thud, shaking the floor slightly.

"Baturu, this was the former king of the earth dragon tribe." Kaisas' voice was filled with respect, his fingertips tracing the hideous crack on his skull. "It ruled the lava lake for thousands of years until its jaw was shattered by a challenger in its prime. It was expelled by the new king, its aged body unable to withstand the nourishment of the lava. When I found it, it was lying alone in the lava tunnel, waiting to die."

But Batulu was clearly not listening to these stories. This burly northern merchant stood with his mouth open, his thick beard trembling with every breath he took. He stretched out his calloused hand, but just as he was about to touch the dark red bone, he retracted it, as if afraid of being burned by some ancient majesty.

Three craftsmen in leather aprons were already busy working around the skull. Sparks flew as their magic steel hammers struck the bone armor. The oldest craftsman suddenly exclaimed, "Huh!" as the hammer in his hand cracked and a chip appeared.

"As a decoration?" Baturu suddenly burst into laughter, his voice making the crystal bottles on the shelves clink. He paced around the skull, his moccasins making the floor creak. "Put this thing in the banquet hall? I'm afraid the guests won't even be able to squeeze through the door!"

The youngest craftsman wiped his sweat and raised the magic steel saw with a bent blade: "Boss, this damn thing is harder than forged magic steel. I bet it will take more than half a month..." His words were interrupted by the sudden flying of the saw teeth.

"What a great stuff! Its strength far exceeds that of magic steel! But cutting it would be a real death!"

The old craftsman Grondor's rough fingers stroked the bronze-lustered bone plates on the ground dragon's skull, and his eyes flashed with the unique light that a craftsman has when he sees the best materials.

He bent down and picked up the two-toothed magic steel saw from the ground, smacking his lips in pain. This saw had been with him for years, having cut countless magical beast bones and rare metals, but it was no match for this earth dragon's skull. Only a few shallow white marks remained on the bone, failing to even break through the surface.

"We've got to use the old-fashioned methods," Grondor sighed, pulling a short-handled heavy hammer from his holster. The hammerhead was crafted from obsidian mined deep within the northern volcanoes, engraved with ancient runes. He stretched his stiff shoulders and called out to the young apprentices standing nearby, "Boys, bring the mounting bracket over here! Today, we're going to handle this treasure the way our ancestors have."

Baturu squatted down and curiously tapped the protruding frontal bone with his knuckles. The echo was like knocking on some kind of alloy. "What can this skull be used for?" the bearded Baturu asked, his eyes fixed on the natural lines on the bone surface, which glowed strangely in the firelight.

Grondor paused his work and pointed at different parts of the skull with the handle of his hammer. "Look at this forehead bone, it's three fingers thick and can be polished to make an excellent round shield. The curvature of the cheekbone is just right and can be split into hundreds of breastplates. The mandible can be made into dozens of long swords..." The old craftsman grew more and more excited as he spoke, his wrinkled face flushing. "Even these bone fragments, embedded in leather armor, can deflect arrows!"

As he spoke, he raised his rune-marked obsidian hammer and struck a protruding spot on the skull. "Clang!" A clear, metallic tremor echoed through the workshop, causing several Northern apprentices to unconsciously step back. The sound wasn't like striking bone, but rather like two fine steel weapons colliding.

Baturu's eyes lit up. He circled the massive skull, finally stopping before the pair of backward-curving dragon horns. Each horn was as thick as a bull's body, its surface covered in spiraling natural patterns, its tips gleaming coldly in the firelight. "Master Grondo, can you remove these horns intact? I want to display them in the trading hall, both as trophies and to deter dishonest merchants."

The old craftsman wiped the sweat off his face with his leather apron and squinted his eyes as he examined the massive horns. "I can certainly remove them, Young Chief, but you've posed a challenge." He smiled wryly and shook his head. "These dragon horns are three times harder than skull. I'm afraid my hammer won't even leave a mark. However, there's a natural weak spot at the base of the horns, so it'll take a lot of effort to get them out!"

Grondor suddenly stopped talking and pulled out an oddly shaped chisel from his storage ring. The tip was a rare dark red. "I almost forgot about this," he said, proudly shaking the tool. "I forged this armor-piercing chisel last year from salamander sacs. Now's the perfect time to test its power."

Batulu watched the old craftsman skillfully indicating where to chisel at the base of the horn and suddenly asked, "If we can't deal with it for the time being, how about just leaving it in the shop?"

"That's even better!" Grondor's eyes lit up. "The whole skull standing in the hall, its terrifying appearance alone is enough to scare away the scoundrels." He suddenly lowered his voice, "But Young Clan Leader, let me say something. If these dragon horns could be processed and made into weapons, they might even be able to pierce through city walls..."

Baturu laughed heartily and patted the old craftsman on the shoulder. "Then let it be a decoration for now, until you come up with a solution! If even the best craftsmen in the North are at a loss for what to do with this thing, wouldn't it be a better demonstration of our tribe's strength if we put it in the hall?"

Grondor laughed too, revealing a few jagged yellow teeth. He turned and called to his apprentices, "Go to the cellar and fetch two buckets of glacial water! Build a fire, and we'll get this treasure out tonight!" In the firelight, the hollow eye sockets of the earth dragon seemed to be watching this battle between man and creation.

"You're processing the dragon bones right here in the lobby of the trading house?"

Caesars frowned, observing the bustling scene before him. In the lobby of the Northern Trading Company, a dozen or so Northern craftsmen were busy working around a massive ground dragon skull, with no intention of moving this precious material to the backyard. Several young apprentices had already brought in thick pine logs and were clanking and building the wooden frames to secure them. Sawdust flew in the light.

"Master Magician, we'll leave it in the hall!" Batulu's booming voice echoed throughout the hall. The burly Northern merchant directed his craftsmen, his gaze fixed on the metallic, spiraling dragon horn with a fiery gaze. "Business at the Northern Merchants isn't great, with only a few customers a day. Placing a ground dragon skeleton this large in the hall will surely draw the entire market crowd in for a glimpse!"

Caesars's gaze swept over the tools in the northman's hands. They were meticulously crafted cutting tools from obsidian, gleaming coldly in the torchlight. While the volcanic glass tools were incredibly hard, their edges polished to a point where they could break even a hair, Caesars was well aware of obsidian's fatal flaw: its fragility. Even the slightest carelessness in cutting through the hard skull of a ground dragon would have shattered the obsidian tools into smithereens.

Across the hall, several northerners were counting bundles of barbarian beef jerky. The air-dried meat exuded a distinct salty, fishy aroma. In a nearby wooden box, shimmering magic crystals were neatly arranged. These were trade items prepared according to Caesar's specifications, and each piece was of high quality.