Chapter 651.5: No One Can Stop the Drow from Sending Us Money!
As Triss stood in shock, Famir stepped forward, gesturing to the two captives.
The cries stopped immediately. As if the pain vanished, they now looked dazed.
Seeing this, Triss instinctively tightened her grip on her blade.
The technique Famir casually displayed was none other than "Instant Casting" + "Multicasting," which Triss never expected.
This was at least a senior high-tier spellcaster!
Triss was incredibly relieved. Thankfully, she had always obediently followed orders and never had any inappropriate thoughts.
Otherwise, just this one move from Famir would have been enough to subdue her with ease.
Putting down her staff and shaking her head with a hint of regret, Famir signaled to have the two captives tied up and said:
"What they said isn't of any value. Heal their wounds and keep them alive."
"Let's head to the camp. It's safer there—too many flies around here."
As soon as she finished speaking, she raised her staff and pointed into the distant darkness.
Flameburst!
A massive, scorching fireball shot into the distant darkness in a flash.
Triss slightly opened her mouth, faintly seeing more than a dozen fleeing figures being engulfed by the erupting flames.
Boom!
After the intense blaze erupted, it took a moment for the roaring explosions to echo out.
Triss swallowed hard and, seeing Famir waving at her, subconsciously walked over.
This kind of spellcasting technique she had never seen before clearly meant Famir belonged to a powerful and well-established spellcaster organization.
This was a very thick thigh to hold onto tightly.
Or rather, the mysterious Azshara City was bound to bring her plenty of surprises.
Or perhaps, more likely, shocks.
Just as Triss was racking her brain thinking about how to get closer to Famir—
She found herself unknowingly arriving in front of a vast slope.
Staring blankly at the towering stone walls and the patrolling soldiers above, she asked in confusion:
"Are we here?"
Famir looked at the quickly erected temporary camp and nodded with some dissatisfaction:
"Their pace is a bit slow. Without proper construction personnel, it's still lacking in many ways."
"This is slow?"
"I've never heard of any temporary camp in this area!"
"Was this built just this afternoon? That's insane."
Still dazed, Triss followed Famir quickly to the camp entrance.
Two rows of hulking iron golems brought her immense pressure.
She feared these fierce iron monsters would suddenly awaken, swinging their heavy fists to smash her to pieces.
Boom!
A powerful thud rippled through the ground.
Two even larger iron golems suddenly appeared before Triss.
Red beams swept across her. If not for seeing Famir motion for her to stay still, Triss would have already bolted.
Only when the two iron golems walked past her did Triss realize her back was drenched in cold sweat.
Still reeling from the shock of those special golems, Triss stepped inside and saw something unbelievable.
Five steel monsters over ten meters tall were bustling about inside the camp.
Some used mechanical arms, some steel cables, some claws, and others shovels, busily working on the construction site.
"These are construction golems. Once given commands, they can automatically build sturdy temporary housing..."
This was still within Triss's understanding—until she saw a massive group of Minotaur warriors lined up and training.
Since when did those wild and unruly Minotaurs become so obedient?
After all, those stubborn Minotaurs were viewed by the Drow as brutish beasts with no intelligence.
Even though they were strong, explosive, and ferocious fighters—excellent slave soldiers—
The Drow still dismissed them as dumb beasts!
Their low intelligence made them struggle with complex commands.
The term "Minotaur beasts" came straight from Drow mouths.
But now?
These Minotaur beasts were obedient and not at all stupid.
Triss immediately realized why Sela never cared whether Minotaurs could fight.
With such powerful Minotaur warriors around, Sela wouldn't even bother with the dumb ones.
"Some special taming ability or technique?"
Triss didn't dare think further, afraid of uncovering the truth and getting into deeper trouble.
Beyond the strange Minotaurs, Triss saw even more astonishing sights.
Lined-up gnolls.
Goblins operating exoskeleton machines.
Kobolds digging underground tunnels.
All kinds of magical machinery.
A huge number of containers.
All of it gave Triss a special feeling.
Each doing their job, playing their strengths.
Not even in dreams would she imagine such a scene.
Many things she had never even imagined before.
Famir led Triss to one container, opened the door, and pointed at the gleaming magical crossbows inside, saying:
"One container holds 2,000 of these crossbows. There are five containers like this, and this is just the first batch..."
"The container behind holds a large batch of magical leather armor, ideal for Drow archers, hunters, scouts..."
"The innermost containers have high-quality enchanted weapons..."
Faced with the sheer number of supplies, Triss blinked involuntarily. After hesitating, she asked:
"With Suramar City watching, won't it be hard to sell this gear quietly...?"
But Famir casually shrugged and calmly, confidently replied:
"We didn't plan to be quiet. We already leaked the news today."
"Those Drow who know we exist will rush here to buy war supplies."
Triss immediately understood why.
According to the latest intel, the Mind Flayer army's enslaved warriors had already reached the surrounding area in significant numbers.
By tomorrow morning at the latest, those controlled slave soldiers would come swarming in.
Even though this area had many Drow troops occupying advantageous positions, they only left a narrow passage for the slaves.
Still, resisting the slaves' assault wouldn't be easy for most Drow.
Especially the first wave of Drow facing the impact—they would take the greatest risk.
If they wanted to survive tomorrow's battle, now was their last chance to strengthen up.
Watching massive mechanical arms carry containers behind the wall, Triss met Famir's eager eyes and patiently asked:
"So our next task is to sell these war supplies?"
Nodding with anticipation, Famir noticed Triss's nervous look, patted her on the shoulder, and handed her a glowing magical wristwatch:
"This little thing will help you—and you'll be able to track your rewards."
Just then, Famir's wristwatch flickered with light.
Triss stared dumbfounded as Lady Sela's image floated into view.
Sela didn't waste words. Her expression was stern as she said, "Customers have arrived. Stay safe."
Seeing the alert from the wall, Famir eagerly rubbed her hands together and told the still-confused Triss:
"Whether we eat meat or soup this fall depends on your performance today."
"Every sale earns us at least 100 gold coins!"
"The more we sell, the bigger our cut..."
Still dazed, Triss was dragged up to the wall by Famir—only to see a large group of Drow gathering in the distance.
One thought echoed in her mind:
"We're so screwed. Now we've pissed off Suramar too."
The arriving Drow were all well-informed types.
They knew about Sela's deal in Suramar—and those dead Drow.
Now they saw all these high-tier iron golems.
Whatever sneaky ideas they might've had were long gone.
Browsing through the info on the magic watch, Triss's eyes burned with determination.
"Even if I'm clueless, I'm in too deep to get out now\..."
In the trading that followed, Triss showed strong negotiation skills, closing deal after deal with the Drow.
Watching piece after piece of magic gear being sold, Famir's smile grew ever brighter.
She seemed to see gold coins flying in and waved excitedly to the "laborers" below.
Over a hundred ogres in metal armor took up positions on the wall, instantly quieting the trading below.
As more supplies were sold, the ogres on the wall grew even more intimidating.
Finally, seeing slave warriors in the distance, Famir decisively deployed over a hundred iron golems.
What could've been a huge commotion vanished without a trace.
At first, only a few Drow trickled in to buy gear.
But more and more Drow troops kept arriving.
From fear and anxiety to calm numbness, Triss continued the trades unflinchingly.
Even facing Drow commanders, she kept a poker face, ignoring their dark expressions.
Only one thought remained in her mind:
"The more value I bring, the less likely I'll be thrown away."
"Succeed or die."
"What's there to be afraid of?"
Watching the bustling scene, Suramar scouts sneered:
"To steal so brazenly—does that Matron Mother have a death wish?"
"Who knows? Greed makes people crazy."
"Maybe she has some kind of backup plan."
"Heh, the noble houses won't see it that way."
"Tomorrow will be quite a show\..."
"Let them collect for us—then we clean house and take a bigger cut."
"..."
The newly renamed Azshara City, with Sela as Matron Mother for just one day, was already stirring up quite the storm underground.
Countless greedy eyes were drawn to her.
Some were even discussing how to divide the spoils tomorrow.
But under all this invisible yet very real pressure, Sela remained calm.
The reason was simple—she was with Matthew and Yaya, inspecting the slaves acquired today.
Pulling his gaze from a particular dragon-blooded gnoll, Matthew looked over Famir's report and said to the eagerly waiting Sela:
"Just focus on the fight tomorrow. No pressure."
"Suramar doesn't have the guts. Mobliso City won't act either."
With her lord's reassurance, Sela relaxed, rubbing her hands in excitement:
"It's been ages since I fought the mind flayer army. Tomorrow will be fun."
Yaya happily counted with her fingers, clenched her little fist, and cheered for Sela:
"Don't worry, just do your best."
"No one can cut off our money flow. No one!"
Clearly, Yaya already saw all the Drow around as walking gold mines.
Sela couldn't help but laugh, firmly stating:
"No one can stop them from sending us money!"
With golden light in her eyes, Yaya declared bossily:
"That's right—whoever disobeys, we smash!"
Grinning in agreement, Sela and Yaya exchanged a look.
The slaves in the cages trembled, feeling Yaya's terrifying aura, shrinking in fear.
The next morning—bright and early.
A piercing whistle echoed through the darkness.
Countless Drow quickly gathered.
Under their tense gaze, a massive horde of terrifying slave warriors surged from the far-off shadows.
They roared madly, charging forward in waves.
Their eyes were empty and lifeless.
Behind their heads, horrifying gashes marked their torment and suffering.
They were mind flayer slaves—controlled puppets, pitiful beings with no future.
Swallowing nervously, Triss glanced at the excited Famir beside her and couldn't help but ask:
"Can we survive this?"
"Of course. Bay... Azshara will prevail!"