Eric’s expression didn’t waver in the slightest.
"If they can be transported, what’s the trade for each dairy cow?"
The odd question, coming from a young Snow Wolf beastman, was exceedingly strange. Corbin and Duc exchanged a subtle glance, both clearly seeing the doubt in each other’s eyes.
Beastmen and dairy cows—these two things had absolutely no connection. But a merchant never turns away a customer; this principle was the same in any world.
Corbin maintained the smile on his face.
"Long-distance transport is very costly. If we’re still using the same candy from before, each dairy cow will require five pieces."
If it were any other beastman, they would surely never agree to this deal. Five pieces of candy could be exchanged for five bolts of cotton cloth, or an entire mountain of linen. A single dairy cow meant for meat could not possibly be worth that much.
And yet, Eric didn’t find this price expensive at all. He had a strange feeling using candy to trade for things; it felt more like playing house than spending real money, without a hint of heartache. He suddenly felt incredibly wealthy, buying things without looking at the price.
But how many should he buy? This question made him hesitate.
Seeing him standing there, lost in thought, Max, who hadn’t intended to interfere, suddenly spoke up, thinking Eric was reluctant to part with so much candy. The tribe still had a lot of sugar stored away, but it wasn’t convenient to reveal it in front of the humans.
With that in mind, he silently took out a pre-prepared bag of magic cores, inside which shimmered the light of both third and fourth-tier crystal cores.
"How many do you want to trade for? If it’s not enough, I’ve prepared magic cores."
Max’s deep, steady voice rang out.
Eric’s train of thought was interrupted. Max’s action made him laugh in spite of himself. This "just buy it, I’ll pay" gesture was exactly like men buying bags for their girlfriends in the modern era.
He suppressed his laughter and replied: "Thank you, Max. You’re so thoughtful, but there’s no need. I still have candy."
Max truly was impeccably good to him. Aside from being a bit impatient at the very beginning, he had since granted nearly all of Eric’s requests, and even this time, he was afraid Eric hadn’t brought enough money.
Duc’s eyes were glued to the crystal cores Max had just put away, and he couldn’t help but mutter to himself.
These barbaric beastmen, simple-minded but terrifyingly strong, hunted magic beasts as if they were taking a stroll.
Given the danger level of this continent, it was doubtful even a great swordmaster would dare to venture in alone; high-level magic beasts were everywhere. In such a perilous land, perhaps only the beastmen and the Elf tribe could live in peace.
Corbin, however, had a more far-sighted view. Although crystal cores were valuable, they were still a tier below that unprecedentedly pure sugar. Scarcity creates value; the old, experienced merchant understood this very well.
Seeing that Eric genuinely didn’t know how many would be appropriate to raise, he asked directly: "How many can you transport over?"
Corbin laughed confidently: "Several hundred at once is not a problem."
Eric counted on his fingers. A hundred cows would be five hundred pieces of candy, which wouldn’t use up too much white sugar.
How about raising three hundred to start?
But then he worried he wouldn’t know how to care for them. If he raised them only for them to die, it would truly be a sin.
As if seeing through his worries, Corbin said: "I’ll also bring over slaves who know animal husbandry. You can trade for as many cows as you wish."
The word "slaves" was like a bucket of cold water dumped on Eric, making him suddenly remember the cruel reality of this society.
Although it was very cruel, having people who knew the work would indeed save a lot of effort.
In the human kingdom, slaves were merely commodities. They had no human rights and no control over their own lives or deaths. If they came to the tribe with the herd of cows, at least he wouldn’t mistreat them.
Still, his heart couldn’t help but ache. He suddenly shivered, thinking how fortunate it was that he had transmigrated as a beastman. If he had started out as a slave, his world would have truly collapsed.
With no more worries, Eric made a firm decision.
"Then I’ll trade for three hundred. When can they be delivered?"
"Next spring," Corbin replied, a hint of fear still on his face: "The winter here is too cold; we can’t stand it."
He recounted a time when their journey was delayed, and the entire caravan was trapped by a huge snowstorm. Many horses froze to death, and the losses were incredibly heavy.
Eric thought next spring was perfect. He would have enough time to build barns without rushing. It was a happy coincidence; next year he would plant sorghum—the grains could be used for brewing wine, and the stalks could be ground up for cattle feed. Two birds with one stone.
Thinking of this, Eric suddenly remembered the container of berry wine he had brought. He opened the lid of the bamboo tube and handed it to Corbin.
"Can this be used for trade? This is wine I brewed myself," he said, his eyes curving into a smile.
The rich aroma of berry wine wafted to Corbin’s nose with the young man’s movement. The eyes of this seasoned wine aficionado lit up, and he nearly started drooling. He hurriedly took the container and took a deep breath.
This enchanting aroma could rival the Holy Blood offered to the church. He quickly called for a servant to bring a cup, hastily poured a glass, and brought it to his lips.
A smile of pure satisfaction bloomed from the bottom of Corbin’s heart. He praised aloud: "A rich flavor and a crystal-clear color. Truly a masterpiece!"
Standing beside him, Duc’s small beard twitched, so anxious that his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down incessantly. Fine wine was right before his eyes, yet he could only watch.
Nearby, the mercenaries also caught the scent of the wine and subconsciously swallowed their saliva, feeling that the barley wine in their hands had suddenly become tasteless.
Eric was a little surprised by their exaggerated reaction. To someone accustomed to white liquor, this kind of berry wine was just like a soft drink.
But he quickly understood. People here mainly drank fruit wine, and the berries from the Snow Wolf tribe’s forest were an excellent ingredient for brewing.
A small sense of pride welled up in Eric’s heart. He turned and looked playfully at Max.
Under the evening glow, the young man’s eyes were as clear as a lake’s surface, his soft, silver hair stirred gently, brimming with amusement.
Max suddenly felt his heart skip a beat.
The noisy sounds of their surroundings seemed to recede into the background. In his eyes, there was only the figure of the young man before him, with his clear eyes and mischievous smile.
Eric also noticed that the way Max was looking at him was somehow different, an unspoken change that made the atmosphere strangely tense.