The merchant caravan Green had disguised quickly arrived at the predetermined location.
Old Andy, the border merchant who had been waiting for some time, slipped effortlessly into the persona he had played for years. Speaking fluent Orcish, he began haggling with a merchant who possessed a human face but deep-green skin and exceptionally sharp fangs.
A Half-Orc? Green observed the man with curiosity.
“I say, Andy, where’s the cargo you promised? We’re old friends; you know the rules—cash on delivery.”
The Half-Orc glared at Andy with evident displeasure, making no effort to hide the powerful mana radiating from his body. He was a High-Tier practitioner.
While a mere High-Tier practitioner was hardly “powerful” by Green’s current standards, such a rank held extraordinary status even in the capital, let alone in the rural borderlands. Even in an Empire obsessed with bloodlines and class, reaching the High-Tier rank meant a promotion to mid-to-senior officer levels. With a bit of luck, being knighted was not an impossible dream.
Thus, when the Half-Orc merchant flaunted his “mighty” strength, Old Andy appropriately displayed a face of “terror.” He bowed repeatedly, offering apologies with zero trace of a Legendary powerhouse’s dignity.
At this moment, Old Andy truly seemed like nothing more than a lowly border merchant, forced to beg for scraps from the strong just to survive.
Teresa watched this in silence, feeling for the first time the immense weight of the “revenge” this man had carried for years. As a Princess, Teresa had met many high-born nobles who constantly spoke of honor. Many were not just talk; they were truly willing to sacrifice themselves for ethereal glory—like Antonio, who preferred to self-destruct rather than apologize to a commoner.
But… for some reason, looking at Old Andy’s humble, stooped back, Teresa didn’t feel a hint of baseness in this “fallen” former Imperial Chief of Staff.
On the contrary, this man—who surely valued honor as much as any other officer—had completely discarded his pride for years to achieve his goal. His willingness to face the world in the most humble posture deeply moved Teresa.
“True honor lies not in personal achievements, but in the essence of one’s character.”
That once-obscure line from the First Emperor’s biography suddenly flashed vividly before Teresa’s eyes.
“I will help you get your revenge,” Teresa whispered softly.
Thump, thump.
“Of course, Your Highness. Not just for the Eighth Legion, but for those corrupt power-mongers in the Capital, and the sorcerous advisors who have bewitched the Emperor…”
Green stepped straight off the carriage. “Every single one of them. None shall escape.”
“Hmph.”
Outside the carriage, the Half-Orc failed to notice Green and the others. He continued to use his overbearing tone to pressure Andy, clearly relishing the thrill of bullying the “weak” with his power.
“So, Andy, how do you plan to settle the bill this time?” the Half-Orc asked maliciously, eyeing him with predatory calm.
“Well… this…” Old Andy rubbed his graying hair, answering with uncertainty. “How about a thirty percent discount? A flat rate of five hundred gold coins?”
“Five hundred?!”
The Half-Orc dragged out the syllables, shaking his head repeatedly. “Not a chance. Aside from the fact that you’re always late with deliveries, your imported magical equipment isn’t even worth that much based on current value.”
“But, that last batch of refrigerators… I recall you sold out within hours of putting them on the market, didn’t you?” Old Andy asked, sounding timid and unsure.
“Ha! You think getting goods into the market is easy?” the Half-Orc snorted with disdain. “If it were that simple, Andy, you’d go wholesale them yourself. Why would you need us?”
“Get this through your head.”
Wham.
The Half-Orc grabbed Old Andy and hoisted him up, his voice turning cold and threatening. “This is a Kingdom of Orcs fortress, not a place for you humans to run wild! If I hadn’t smoothed things over, you think you’d have slipped into this stronghold so easily?”
The Half-Orc pointed casually at a passing patrol. Unlike the Indomitable Bastion, the troops in the Orc defensive line were poorly disciplined, but they were clearly well-fed and more than capable of handling patrol duties.
“Yes, yes, of course…” Andy’s acting was flawless. He portrayed the tragic, anxious image of a distressed small-time merchant so perfectly that no one would ever suspect his true identity or strength.
“But, my Lord,” Old Andy said with a near-sobbing tone, “I really don’t have much capital left. Could you…”
“Boss?” Seeing that Andy was “reaching his limit,” Green stepped in at the right time to save the scene. “Our caravan has arrived.”
“Phew!” Andy “sighed in relief” and quickly flashed a fawning smile at the Half-Orc. “Look, my Lord, the goods we ordered this time are all here. I’ve doubled the quantity just as you requested.”
Hmm…
Green looked back at the wagon full of goods, gaining a direct understanding of the influence of the “Northwind Chamber of Commerce” that Andy had built from scratch. To completely ignore the blockade authorized by the Second Prince and the Western Governor—importing mass quantities of controlled, if not outright contraband, magical equipment—the phrase “connections reaching the heavens” was an understatement.
“Huh?!” The Half-Orc rubbed his eyes, staring in disbelief as Green pulled back the canvas to reveal brand-new products sparkling in the sunlight.
Refrigerators, air conditioners, instant communicators… a vast variety of magical devices that might be common in the Empire but were exceptionally rare in the Orc Kingdom.
Gulp.
This batch of goods would certainly make him a fortune. No—selling them would be a waste. The Half-Orc’s eyes flickered with a calculating light.
As a Half-Orc, despite his strength, his career in the Orc Kingdom was limited by his “impure” bloodline. The fact that he was a High-Tier practitioner but still had to personally deal with a human smuggler was proof of that.
But… what if he handed this batch over to certain powerful figures?
“Hmph.” At that thought, the Half-Orc’s eyes darted around as a plan formed. “Oh, Andy, I took a look at your goods. Yes, they are indeed quality items, except…”
“Except what?” Andy lowered his voice, looking “anxious” and “apprehensive.”
“Except, these things can’t be traded just anywhere. How about this…” The Half-Orc rubbed his hands together, quickly finding a plausible excuse. “As you know, this is the most important defensive line in the Kingdom’s war zone. We can’t be careless. Any magical equipment must be inspected and cleared.”
“But, but in the past, we always—”
“The past is the past!” The Half-Orc snapped, rudely activating his communication crystal. “Sir, please come over. I have some items I’m unsure about; I need you to ‘inspect’ them.”
“Oh? Understood,” a cold, indifferent voice replied.
Static.
The connection was cut.
“Sir?” Andy asked, appearing “utterly terrified.” “Who were you just talking to?”
“A Third-Class Staff Officer from the Frontline Command Headquarters,” the Half-Orc boasted proudly. “By the way, he’s a rising star recently promoted by General Love!”
Bingo!
Green and Teresa stole a glance at each other and shared a silent, knowing smile.