"If we really encounter that Red Dragon, how much can I offer?" Blood Claw asked again.
"One hundred thousand Gold Coins," Nord replied, "That's all our gold. You can only use these Gold Coins to secure him, otherwise... there is no otherwise... hahaha... Go!"
"Understood." Blood Claw saluted and left the tent to assemble his Hunting Team, cursing the madman in his heart.
All the Black Reapers were a bunch of madmen; there were hardly any sane ones, and that Nord just now was the biggest madman of them all.
Staying sane in this camp of madmen was nothing short of a miracle, but he was not far from becoming one himself.
It was equally a bizarre miracle that such a warband could grow and expand.
But their strength couldn't be denied.
At its peak, the Blood Claw Tribe that he had led nearly amounted to three thousand people, although half were Goblins.
But in front of these beast races, they couldn't even withstand two rounds of a charge before being crushed.
