Chapter 3

The bandits who were active along the border generally plundered passing merchant caravans and travelers, rarely daring to attack towns. After all, even if the border defense forces were weak, they were still the empire's regular army, equipped with priest corps and knight corps. Killing a few bandits who couldn't even fully arm themselves was no challenge at all.

Most bandits kept a low profile to avoid being targeted and becoming the object of extermination. However, there were always some fearless individuals who rampaged, burned, and looted without restraint, repeatedly challenging the authority of the Duke of the Western Border.

Without exception, these bandits made it onto the Western Border's wanted list, with their portraits printed on wanted posters that covered the small towns along the border.

In this world, there were always adventurers who wanted to become rich and famous overnight. The heads of these bandits were a shortcut to their fame.

Even a five-year-old child knew that every bounty carried a heavy, indelible stain of blood, both from adventurers and bandits.

In such brutal battles, any bandit who survived was notorious and had a high bounty.

Ogre Tyson, nicknamed 'Iron Man,' was a newly risen bandit who enjoyed eating the ears of his victims after killing them. His bounty was 10,000 gold ducats.

Rune the Bear, nicknamed 'Balloon,' killed the vanguard captain of the Arsenal Knights with a single shot when he first appeared, earning him fame throughout the Western Border. The captain, enraged, offered a high bounty of 50,000 gold ducats for his head. However, the mercenaries who coveted this bounty all became victims of the Bear.

"Tsk, it's already up to 150,000 gold ducats!" Danton saw Rune's bounty notice posted in the upper right corner of the bulletin board, yellowed from wind and sun, but the gold amount was still clearly marked and not torn off, indicating that the bounty was still valid and the Bear was still at large.

Bandits with bounties over 10,000 gold ducats were at least at the war level, and killing Danton would be a sure thing, so he continued to look down the list.

Kido, a female orc shaman, with a bounty of 5,000 gold ducats!

Danton sighed and gave up. To be on the wanted list, the minimum bounty was 300 gold ducats. With his strength, he couldn't even handle a 10-gold-ducat fish, so living off bounties would mean starving to death.

Returning to his humble shack, to save money, Danton didn't even bother cooking, just gnawing on a piece of black bread while thinking about how to make money.

As a Drankford native, he naturally used the currency with the suffix 'dran.' A family of three needed about 15 gold drans a month for living expenses, but ordinary civilians rarely saw gold coins, and silver drans were more commonly used.

"I heard that the mail carriers in the capital receive over a dozen silver coins in tips every day, but I don't know if it's true!" Danton shook his head, discarding the unrealistic fantasy and preparing to go out to find a part-time job.

At this time, Danton would have already organized his mailbag and set off on his delivery route, but from now on, he wouldn't have to do it anymore.

"Three whole years as a mail carrier!" Danton, walking down the street, suddenly found himself idle, feeling very unaccustomed, but more so nostalgic. He had supported his sister Elaine and helped her get into the famous St. George Magic Academy in Drankford by delivering mail, and he had feelings for this job.

If it weren't for Ballmer constantly causing trouble, Danton felt he might have been a mail carrier for life.

"Where have you been? I've been looking for you for hours!" Justin saw Danton and immediately shouted. Behind him were six other mail carriers, all good friends.

"What's up?" Danton looked at Will's bruised mouth and frowned. "Why aren't you resting at home?"

"It's all my fault!" Will felt very guilty.

"Don't blame yourself. Ballmer wouldn't have let me off even without you." Danton smiled broadly, patted his shoulder, and said, "Do you think I'll starve to death just because I can't be a mail carrier anymore?"

"How could that be? You're the Fox of the Western Border!"

"Only the title of First Mail Carrier will be taken away from you!"

The young men chattered, calling Danton by his nickname, their laughter echoing through the drizzle. Though their way of comforting him was clumsy, it undoubtedly represented sincere friendship.

"Come on, I'll treat you to a big meal at the Golden Ivory Tavern!" The tall Duran punched Danton's chest and put his arm around his shoulder.

"Forget it!" Danton refused. They were all from ordinary families and not wealthy, and they couldn't afford a tavern.

"Are you looking down on us?" Duran tightened his grip on Danton, not letting him escape, and the other young men pushed from behind.

"Just the trick you taught us for picking nearby mail is worth a hundred meals!"

These young men were genuinely grateful to Danton. Each of them had received his help and was trained by him as a mail carrier.

Drankford, located in the northern part of the Western Continent, was a third-tier country in terms of comprehensive national strength, often labeled as poor and backward.

Apart from the capital region, the remaining territory was divided into four major regions: East, West, South, and North, each governed by a hereditary duke.

Morning Fog Town was located in Redwood County, under the jurisdiction of the Duke of the Western Border, Placido. Danton's annual tax payments all went into the coffers of this family.

Ten thousand years ago, during the Fifth Continental Holy War, the Dragon Hills, as one of the main battlefields, were bombed to ruins by the dragon army led by the Red Dragon King. The adjacent Redwood County was also affected.

It is said that under the bombardment of tens of thousands of fire spells, the entire county was reduced to scorched earth. It wasn't until the establishment of Drankford and the migration of refugees that the area began to recover.

On land scorched by dragon breath, even after ten thousand years, many crops still couldn't be grown. Even the most adaptable oats could only be harvested once a year, and most of the grains were shriveled, like malnourished, emaciated beggars.

Fortunately, the residents of the border didn't rely on farming. Beneath Morning Fog Town lay rich veins of magical energy, or else the king wouldn't have relocated refugees. However, with nearly a thousand years of mining, the veins were gradually depleted, and the border economy became increasingly depressed, leading more young people to leave home and seek a living in big cities.

Many abandoned mining towns, like ghosts, stood on the border, becoming nests for monsters, bandits, and refugees, making Redwood County even more dilapidated and chaotic.

Beyond the vast Sunset Wasteland lay the Orc Empire. Ivory, animal skins, and the blood of powerful magical creatures, among other specialties, could fetch a high price when sold to the human empire, leading to the rise of this trade route.

Morning Fog Town, as the last major supply point before entering the Sunset Wasteland, was flooded with merchants, mercenaries, and adventurers during the peak season, filling every corner of the town, and the few taverns were always packed.

As Danton stepped into the Golden Ivory Tavern, a wave of noise mixed with the smell of alcohol and sweat hit him, making him frown slightly. He really didn't like such a noisy environment.

A dwarf, covered in mine dust, was drunk and sleeping at a table, completely unaware that his money bag had just been stolen.

The dancers stood on a platform in the hall, energetically performing tap dances to lively music. Each time they lifted their white thighs, a series of whistles followed.

A few low-class mercenaries squatted under the stage, craning their necks to try to peek under the dancers' skirts.

"Eight cups of dragon tongue liquor!" Justin shouted to the waiter, ordering with familiarity, clearly a regular.

Among the group of young men, he was the one who enjoyed entertainment the most and wasn't very frugal, so he often had to borrow money to get through the end of the month.

"Come sit!" Duran found a few empty seats and pulled Danton, but after a few steps, he realized Danton hadn't followed.

"What's wrong?" Justin followed Danton's gaze. "Pfft, just a down-and-out traveling merchant. What's so interesting? Come on, let's go drink!"

"You guys go ahead, I'll check out what he's selling!" Danton dodged a few drunk patrons and walked to the corner where the merchant had set up his stall.

This was a mysterious figure, dressed in a black robe and a cloak, with his face hidden under a hood. His lungs seemed to be injured, as each breath produced a wheezing sound like a broken windbox.

On the ground was a dirty Bohemian rug, on which were placed a mechanical pocket watch, large colored feathers, striped stones, and other items, all with a slightly mysterious aura.

"A piece of rotten wood, and you want 10,000 gold ducats? Are you crazy?" A fat merchant, spitting as he spoke, loudly criticized the item but didn't put down the totem-like piece of wood, instead feeling it carefully.

The merchant said nothing, not even lifting his head.

"Hey, stop being so mysterious. This trick won't fool me. I'll give you 10 silver ducats, and it's a deal." The merchant's glassy eyes darted, trying to drive down the price.

A dozen or so other customers casually browsed the goods, but their interest was low. They had traveled far and wide and seen many things, and the merchant's mysterious appearance only fooled those who hadn't left their hometowns.

"13 silver ducats, no more." The fat merchant raised his offer.

"Scrooge, you're the richest man in Morning Fog Town, worth over a million. Is it worth haggling with a down-and-out merchant?" Someone teased Scrooge.

"You don't understand. Every copper should be spent wisely. If it doesn't double in value, it's a loss!" Scrooge stroked his neatly trimmed mustache and raised his offer again. "Fine, I lose. 20 silver ducats, no more."

The traveling merchant said nothing, just shook his head.

Danton's gaze fell on a book in the upper left corner of the rug, about six centimeters thick, A3-sized, with a leather-bound cover, very old, covered in grease and black stains, and even dark red blood spots.

Unlike his playful peers, Danton, besides working and exercising to absorb magical energy, spent his free time reading. He loved collecting books, believing it made one wise and knowledgeable!

"You really think you're one of the five most mysterious traveling merchants on the continent, selling legendary items? 30 silver ducats, and if you don't agree, I'm out!" Scrooge issued his final ultimatum, his small eyes fixed on the merchant, trying to gauge his price limit.

"Seems interesting!" Danton bent down to pick up the book, but a hand was faster, beating him to it!

"I'll take this book!"

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