It was early dawn.
People were seen getting busy in the Oasis Lookout.
The Swadians were diligently cleaning up the battlefield. They disregarded their fatigue as they went about cleaning up the village as quickly as possible.
It was especially so with the bloody mess of dead Jackalans. The bodies were of a top priority on the list of clean-ups to do. Temperatures in the desert were high. Once the bodies began to rot and seep into the soil, underground water reserves would have ended up contaminated. At the point, things would have taken a turn for the worse.
The sun slowly rose, bringing the arrival of dawn.
The battlefield had been completely cleaned up. More than 400 Jackalan bodies were piled into a mound.
That was the result of the previous night's battle.
There were also more than 100 Jackalans with their hands tied behind their backs located at the back of the houses. All of them hung their heads low in despair.
That was also a result of the battle. Those Jackalans had been taken as prisoners.
The 19 Swadian Militia member who managed to survive were keeping a close eye on the Jackalan prisoners. They held on tightly to their hunting crossbows. If they dared to try anything funny, bolts loaded on the crossbows were ready to be unleashed on the prisoners.
There was also the combat shovel—a weapon capable of penetrating armor with a single hit—being readied, waiting to crack open the skulls of the prisoners.
Then again, no one else seemed to care much about those Jackalan prisoners.
Kant's allies, who had helped him win the battle the previous night, were getting ready to depart that morning.
"It's time for us to leave, Baron Kant."
Sir Hobson extended his hand and held Kant's hand tightly. "Thank you for providing us with breakfast and fresh water. May Edmund, the great God of War, watch over you and your lands."
"Likewise." Kant nodded. Gratitude was seen in his eyes.
He turned around and looked at Scholar Hank. In an apologetic tone, he said, "Master Hank, I do wish the expedition into the Nahrin Desert would have brought more than just regret for you."
"It did." Scholar Hank shook his head and grinned. "I shall leave finding the lost city to my juniors."
He lightly sighed. He seemed rather vexed as he rummaged through his clothes and handed a scroll over to Kant. "This is the sum of my research of the lost city from the academy. I may never come to the desert again. Since you're the lord of the place, it would please me if you were to be able to find ruins, or at least some artifacts having anything to do with the lost city."
"Thank you, Master Hank." Kant solemnly took the scroll.
Kant was aware that the scholar's lifework was contained within the scroll.
He packed it away carefully and replied, "I shall treat it with care."
"I hope you can finish my work." Scholar Hank smiled and nodded. He looked as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He chatted with Kant for a bit before returning to his carriage.
"Farewell, Baron Kant."
Sir Hobson nodded before turning around and leaving with his retainer knights in tow.
Those who were gravely injured were assisted by their peers. The dead retainer knights were strapped onto the warhorses that served them. Both knight and horse were of a single entity. Even though they died on the battlefield, they needed to be brought home by others. That was where true honor lied.
Captain Rowan was among those helping the severely injured retainer knights.
After fighting such an intense battle, it was likely that Sir Hobson would vouch for him when they returned home. There was a possibility of a promotion waiting for him.
Then again, none of that had anything to do with Kant.
He had left the Dukedom of Leo quite a while ago. Now, he was but a lesser lord in the Nahrin Desert.
However, he still immediately recalled that father of his. At the thought of him, he sighed. He was puzzled at what was actually going on in his father's head.
He exiled me here, yet...
He hung his head low and felt complicated emotions. Why bother sending anyone to back me up out here?
That was what troubled him most.
He had been living in that world for 16 years. It was inevitable that he would become attached to that world.
It was even more so in the case of his father, the man who raised him.
"Good morning, Lord Kant. You do not seem to be in the mood."
A respectful greeting was heard from behind.
Kant turned around and found the leader of the trade caravan from Reyvadin behind him.
Kant grinned after nodding. "Good morning."
He behaved more amicably to the leader. That man, whom he knew nothing about before, had participated in that battle the previous evening. He fought hard with his escorts and mercenaries. That changed Kant's opinion toward him.
"I do hope I'm not getting in the way of anything, My Lord."
The leader of the trade caravan behaved just as respectfully as he had always done.
He did not let the merit of his help toward Kant get to his head. That was the way a person should have behaved. As a leader of a trade caravan going around towns and cities alike, he knew that very well.
"Is there anything you would need from me?" Kant was able to sense the man's hesitation.
The leader gulped and nodded. He said, "Well, it's like this, Lord Kant. I've seen that you have captured several Jackalans from the battle last night."
"Do you have any thoughts about them?" Kant was slightly startled.
Instead of skirting the question, the leader nodded and hurriedly said, "Those Jackalans look fit, and they seem to have some sense of reason still. I'm thinking that they would serve as decent labor for working in mines and forests, after they are tamed, of course."
"So?" Kant knew there was something else.
That was a specialty of the game.
Captured troop classes were resources tradable using Denars. Selling them to slave traders would have been very profitable. That was considered to be one of the most important sources of Denars to players.
"I'd like to purchase the Jackalan prisoners." The leader immediately said what was on his mind.
"I see." Kant grinned as he eyed the rather awkward expression on the leader. He looked at the faraway dunes and said, "It never occurred to me that a trade caravan dealing with regular goods was into slave trade as well."
"It's a part-time job." The leader awkwardly lowered his head.
Slave traders were not of good repute. In fact, they were considered a notorious bunch on the Continent of Caradia.
To Kant, who was in desperate need of money, it was a boon and one of the best things that could have happened to him at the moment. He had sold slaves back in the game. Currently, there was no way he was going to overlook this type of opportunity.
As such, Kant asked without beating around the bush, "How much are you offering for the Jackalan slaves?"
"Well, in this case, I'd offer 30 Denars for each prisoner."
The leader gulped as he looked at Kant with rather fearful eyes. In full honesty, he added, "I'm not a professional slave trader, so I'd only be able to evaluate and offer 30 Denars each. I do think that the actual price for each of those prisoners would be higher."
"30 Denars, eh?" Kant muttered to himself. He turned around and said, "We have a deal."
According to prices in the game he played in his past life, even the lowliest of bandits would have been worth 35 Denars each. However, considering that the leader was the only buyer having any link to the system, Kant did not object to the offer.
Besides, he still had to do business.
Furthermore, those were Denars that he gained from doing nothing.
Even if he were to only be given 10 Denars each, Kant would not have hesitated to sell the Jackalans.
He was unable to think of any decent ways to deal with the Jackalan prisoners. If the leader of the trade caravan had not offered to buy them, his only way to deal with the prisoners would have been to slit their throats, throw them into the pile, and burning them down to ash.
He did not need Jackalan slaves.
"There are 142 Jackalan prisoners."
The leader flashed a beaming smile as Kant confirmed the headcount. He quickly said, "With each being worth 30 Denars, the sum would be 4,260 Denars."
Kant's heart skipped a beat. He asked again, "How much?"
"It is 4,260 Denars." The leader lowered his head respectfully and added, "If there were any other slave traders around, they may have offered more than I did. For that, I'm truly sorry, Lord Kant."
"Don't be. That's good enough." Kant gulped, struggling to keep his emotions in check.
He had earned more than 4,000 Denars from selling 142 Jackalan prisoners.
This is explosively lucrative!
Not only did the trade gave Kant the funds needed for upgrading his forces, but he also gained enough to further develop his village by being able to build more buildings. It had also taken care of the weekly upkeep of his forces. All his problems were solved in one shot.
Kant's eyes glimmered. He had suddenly discovered a good way of generating wealth.
He licked his lips and looked at the leader. He asked, "Would you mind purchasing slaves for prolonged periods?"
"I shall be here once every month. If you happen to have slaves to sell, I shall evaluate them."
The leader nodded affirmatively and added, "But, of course, I'd still prefer regular goods. If there were to be nothing else up for sale, then I shall purchase the slaves as well."
"Very well."
Kant nodded with glittering eyes. "Those Jackalan slaves are all yours now."
The leader excused himself and gestured to the people behind him.
The six escorts and 12 mercenaries standing by immediately walked up to the Jackalan prisoners with a vicious grin on the faces. They hoisted the prisoners up by the ropes, tying their hands and headed for the grocery store.
Those people had their own ways of making those Jackalans obedient slaves.
The 4,260 Denars were immediately added to Kant's account in his mind.
The sum he had at the moment was 5,743 Denars.
Time to get on with the upgrades.
Given that he now had so much money, Kant had nothing to worry about.