The sounds of clashing weapons, Wyvern roars, and the wails of goblins echoed through the sky over Crescent Bay.
This place had turned into a slaughterhouse.
"Damn the Molten Iron Tribe! How dare they attack Crescent Bay."
A nearly six-meter-tall humanoid Alchemy Golem was plowing deep trenches into the riverbank, venting bursts of high-temperature steam from its gear-driven joints. It possessed four long, slender mechanical arms, but instead of palms at their ends, it featured a circular saw, a pointed drill, and two pincer claws.
[Flesh Tearer]
—This was the creation of the Golden Tooth Tribe's Alchemist.
The goblin workshops could manufacture older, simpler Alchemy Golems based on blueprints, while also purchasing various precision components at high prices to assemble more Advanced and powerful golems.
The Golden Tooth Tribe had a highly developed alchemy industry.
Or rather, the main reason their tribe could gain a firm foothold in The Borderlands was this alchemy industry.
The Flesh Tearer was an older model of Alchemy Golem; its blueprints were easy to obtain. It released energy through the combustion of black oil and utilized gears, levers, and steam to animate itself.
Within the territory of the Golden Tooth Tribe, the Flesh Tearer was their primary combat unit for garrisoning various outposts.
It is also worth mentioning that the Flesh Tearer was a manned golem, requiring a sentient being to pilot it.
Because this type of Alchemy Golem resembled a suit of mechanical armor, it was also known as a mecha.
A specially trained sentient being wearing an Advanced Mecha Golem was often more powerful than an Alchemy Golem driven purely by engines and runes.
The goblin leader's pointed ears twitched at high frequency inside the cockpit, and the copper buttons on the control stick were slick with sweat.
At this moment, he was both terrified and furious—terrified by the surprise attack and furious about the loss of wealth.
"Damn Centaurs!"
In order to defend their wealth, even the naturally timid could unleash courage that surpassed that of most races. The goblin leader's curses blared through the loudspeaker as he pressed the dark red valve on his left.
Bzzzz!
The saw and drill began to rotate at high speed, tearing through the air and emitting a bone-chilling shriek.
A Centaur Warrior charged forward, thrusting a spear toward the cockpit, but it was precisely gripped by the Flesh Tearer's pincer claws. The other two arms moved with a buzzing sound, sweeping across the Centaur Warrior's body, where the saw and drill left ghastly wounds, tearing through flesh and bone.
Centaurs were fierce and skilled in battle.
The fall of their companion did not fill them with fear; instead, it ignited even more of their blood-fueled courage. Several elite Centaurs turned their direction, locking their gazes onto the Mecha Golem.
"Back off, all of you!"
Silvermane's sharp shout rang out.
Alchemy Golems—even the Centaurs in The Borderlands had heard of them, though they rarely dealt with them. Silvermane stared intently at the Flesh Tearer, looking at the monster made of machinery and metal, his eyes lighting up with the thrill of the hunt.
His horseshoes left craters in the ground with every step.
The burly Centaur's mane flew as he galloped toward the Flesh Tearer. His charge was nearly a straight line, trampling any goblins that got in his way to death along the path.
In the blink of an eye, the two clashed in close-quarters combat.
Silvermane gripped his heavy sword, which radiated a cold light, in his hand. Demonic Energy surged throughout his body, burning like raging flames and coalescing on the sword's edge as he slashed toward the Flesh Tearer.
The goblin leader piloting the mecha felt his eyelids twitch.
He immediately maneuvered the Flesh Tearer, following the combat style of this mecha, to do the same: first using the pincer claws to parry the Centaur leader's attack, while the other two arms took the opportunity to tear into his body.
The alloy-forged pincer claws clamped toward the Centaur's heavy sword, predicting its trajectory.
The movements were like a tide!
The Centaur Warrior let out a low roar.
The speed of the heavy sword strike surged suddenly, passing through the pincer claws and hacking heavily into the Flesh Tearer's chest. Red-hot sparks flew, and the steel was forcefully cleaved open, creating a massive gash.
That was just the beginning.
His slashes were as fast as lightning and as dense as a tide, covering the Flesh Tearer from different directions almost simultaneously as he nimbly moved and shifted.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The crisp sounds of metal striking metal rang out incessantly; the Flesh Tearer retreated step by step, stumbling as it defended itself.
Downward spin slash!
Crack—with a flash of cold, grim light, the leg joint of the Mecha Golem was severed. Shattered parts and gears sprayed everywhere, and it fell backward to the ground with a thud.
"How can a crudely made metal creation compare to the muscles of our warriors, tempered a thousand times over?"
Silvermane let out a loud laugh.
The burly Centaur's muscles bulged, the fibers tightening like steel wire. He raised his front hooves simultaneously and stomped heavily toward the battered cockpit located on the mecha's chest.
Boom!
The metal plate buckled, cracked, and collapsed.
Accompanied by the crunching sound of bones breaking, the goblin's screams erupted from within, only to be cut short. Blood began to flow slowly from between the twisted metal.
Rip!
Almost at the same time, another Flesh Tearer fell.
A Wyvern swooped down from the sky, pouncing on the Flesh Tearer. Its talons tore open the steel chest armor, and its tail stinger, tipped with venom, bored inside.
Before the potent venom could even take effect, the stinger had directly pierced the body of the goblin leader inside, skewering and killing him.
The Golden Tooth Tribe was full of ambition; recently, they had been densely deploying defenses along the riverbank. They had established many new outposts, but this had spread their forces too thin.
For an outpost like Crescent Bay, the strongest combat unit was the Mecha Golem, the Flesh Tearer.
There were many elites among the Centaurs.
Moreover, every Wyvern was a powerful Sub-dragon possessing the Dragon Bloodline.
As golem after golem fell, the battle had become one-sided.
"Don't kill me, please…"
Splat! The Centaur's Iron Hoof crushed the goblin's head, shattering the plea for mercy.
When the defensive line was dismantled, the battle situation completely collapsed, and the Mecha Golems were all destroyed, the goblins began to scatter and flee. However, their speed was far inferior to that of the Centaurs and Wyverns; running away was the most foolish choice.
The few who resisted were killed on the spot, while the rest were taken prisoner.
Ten-plus minutes later.
Crescent Bay fell into a rare silence. The piercing screams of the goblins had vanished, leaving only the muffled thuds of Centaur Iron Hooves treading across the wooden planks.
Silvermane flicked his heavy sword, sending a few droplets of dark green blood arcing through the air before they finally sank into the dirt.
"Hammer, we meet again."
The Centaur leader grinned, revealing a smile that tasted of blood.
The merchant stiffly forced a smile: "Your Excellency Zakley, we are merely passing merchants. We have no intention of interfering in the conflict between you and the Golden Tooth Tribe."
The Wyverns circling in the sky let out low roars, their shadows looming over the merchant ships.
The elite Centaurs watched with cold eyes, wiping their spears and stamping their hooves, glaring like tigers eyeing their prey.
With the armed forces of these few merchant ships, they were far from being opponents; now, they could only pray for the other party's mercy.
"All the cargo from this trip, and the wealth we carry, can be used to buy our lives."
The merchant added to the stakes.
"Oh? Hammer, you are confused. If we kill you, all these things will belong to us anyway."
Looking at the merchant covered in cold sweat, Silvermane suddenly laughed heartily, leaned over, and patted the merchant's shoulder with his thick arm: "Don't be nervous; that was just a small joke."
He said: "This battle is merely a private feud between us and the Golden Tooth Tribe; we will not vent our anger on you. Otherwise, you would already be a corpse unable to speak."
The merchant looked around in disbelief: "Then these Ore…"
"The Ore you bought can be taken as usual." Silvermane waved his hand: "The goblin's gold coins and spices are our spoils of war. Remember, the Molten Iron Tribe only kills enemies, not merchants; we will even provide you with convenience and protection."
These were the instructions of the Iron Dragon.
He actually wanted to plunder them fiercely, but his reason and the trading knowledge within his Legacy told him that creating a reliable trading environment was more beneficial for future development.
Not until the ships had set sail and were gradually moving away from Crescent Bay.
The merchant ship's manager was still somewhat dazed.
They were just let go like this?
No personnel were slaughtered, and they weren't extorted?
They were dragged into a conflict between tribes but escaped unscathed? And still returned fully loaded?
In a place like The Borderlands where the strong prey on the weak, there was actually a faction that followed trading rules?
"Manager, those Centaurs and Wyverns are too terrifying. We should change our route in the future and bypass this place."
The tributaries of the Estonia Great River stretched in all directions; the river bay governed by the Molten Iron Tribe was not the only route. The merchant apprentice, recalling the terrifying scene from before, trembled and couldn't help but say this to the manager.
"Fool!"
Hammer slapped the apprentice on the head and said: "Terrifying? You've seen too little. They didn't extort us, didn't slaughter the crew—in a place like The Borderlands, they are practically Saints!"
Not to mention anything else.
Even with the Golden Tooth Tribe, which had fixed trade with the Iron Shield Merchant Group, those greedy goblin leaders would always find ways to extort and squeeze gold coins out of their hands during transactions.
"The Molten Iron Tribe is a better trading partner."
The manager thought to himself silently.
Looking at the receding riverbank, he calculated in his mind that given the Molten Iron Tribe's style of conduct, he could bring more Iron Shield Merchant Group ships next time to trade with the Molten Iron Tribe.
At the same time.
The Wyverns had iron chains hanging from their talons, the other ends wrapped around the Mecha Golems. They flapped their wings and gradually took to the air, flying first toward the Sulfur Hills to be handed over to the Molten Iron Tribe's alchemy outpost.
The Centaur Warriors were quickly looting Crescent Bay.
The gold coins the goblins had just obtained from the merchants were all collected, along with many intact goods like spices and Ore.
The merchants got the Ore they wanted and returned fully loaded; the Molten Iron Tribe obtained gold coins and some extra gains, a bountiful harvest.
Only the goblins caught in the middle were hurt.
At this moment, a Wyvern circling high above let out a shrill screech, alerting the warriors who were cleaning up the aftermath that reinforcements from the Golden Tooth Tribe had arrived.
"Retreat! Burn everything else to the ground!"
Silvermane immediately ordered.
The Centaurs came quickly and retreated just as quickly. Their hooves thundered against the ground as they galloped like the wind, leaving behind a Crescent Bay filled with scars and chaos.
Not long after.
With the trembling of the ground, Alchemy Golems arrived at Crescent Bay. In addition to older models like the Flesh Tearer, there were many more Advanced models—golems that the Golden Tooth Tribe could not have produced—and they were, without exception, manned mechas.
Perhaps it was because they were too short and weak themselves, and mechas could make the goblins become tall.
They loved Mecha Golems very much.
The Centaurs had set fire to the place before leaving, and it had turned into a sea of flames. The mecha cockpits reflected the buildings and facilities that were burning fiercely.
"Molten Iron Tribe. Do you want to go to war with us?!"
A goblin leader trembled with rage and said: "Our losses are heavy; at least ten thousand gold coins have evaporated."
They didn't care much about the dead goblin kin.
But the destroyed Crescent Bay, the looted goods, and the gold coins—these losses of wealth were unforgivable in the eyes of the goblins.
Afterward, news of the destruction and damage to Crescent Bay quickly reached the Golden Tooth Tribe's base.
After deliberation by the goblin Elders, they finally decided to make the Molten Iron Tribe pay the price.
Since the Golden Tooth Tribe was constrained by other matters, they would not go all-in to wage war against the Molten Iron Tribe. However, since the other party had raided Crescent Bay, their outposts located along the riverbank shouldn't expect to remain safe either.
A consensus on a tit-for-tat revenge method was reached.
The price trade war ended here.
Next, the real 'trade war'—warfare and conflict triggered by trade—was about to begin.
Under the shroud of night, the waves of the Estonia Great River remained, shimmering with scales of light, but the murderous intent on the shore was already boiling.
×=×
15PS = 1 Extra Chapter. ✓
30PS = 2 Extra Chapters. ✓
50Ps= 3 Extra Chapters.
75PS = 4 Extra Chapters.
100Ps = 5 Extra Chapters.