Translator: Cinder Translations
...
Imar walked out of the hut with a serious expression, spotting Gunther, the Blood Ox Tribe chief's son, waving at him from a distance.
That bastard! He sure surprised me today with an unexpected twist.
He quickened his pace towards him.
Gunther squinted and asked, "What did that old man Eugene say to you?"
"You don't know? That's great, it's none of your business!" Imar replied gruffly.
"Hmph! If you don't want to say, then forget it. I'm not interested." Gunther said nonchalantly.
"But I have something you might find interesting."
He placed a hand on Imar's shoulder, and from afar, the height difference between the orc and the dwarf made it look like an elder was encouraging a junior.
"Get your filthy hands off me!" Imar said disgustedly, grabbing Gunther's wrist and throwing it away.
"Your temper is as terrible as ever," the chief's son rubbed his wrist. "But the kind and magnanimous Gunther still wants to tell you there's a big deal waiting for us. Want to team up?"
"A big deal?" Imar perked up.
He needed wealth, and his conversation with the old orc had strengthened his resolve to search for more riches to carry out his plans.
Gunther pointed a finger into the distance, and Imar looked over.
"Humans?"
He grimaced.
"How did those scrawny guys end up here?"
"Oh! Don't underestimate that human."
Gunther excitedly rubbed his hands together, his eyes glinting with greed as he looked at the humans.
"I saw him at the feast pull out an invaluable… an invaluable… I think it was called porcelain, and gave it to my father, who then hid it away."
"Hmm! If it caught Chief Asoye's eye, that item must be quite precious," Imar pondered.
"More than just precious!" Gunther exaggeratedly waved his arms. "The moment that treasure was revealed, everything in our longhouse paled in comparison. I'm telling you…"
"Then why are you looking for me? What's the deal?" Imar interrupted Gunther's increasingly exaggerated description, already guessing the gist of it.
"Hehe!" Gunther cackled, revealing his fangs as drool dripped from his mouth.
"I had someone secretly check the human and his companion's luggage. There are several chests and bags, and there should be a lot of treasures like that porcelain in there. What do you say? Want to make a big score together?"
Gunther looked at Imar with enticing eyes.
They couldn't strike near the Blood Ox Tribe; if his father found out, it would be trouble. Gunther needed to lure the humans to a place that wouldn't attract attention.
"Those humans are planning to cross the Rocky Mountains and are currently looking for a guide. What could be more discreet than the Rocky Mountains? So, I want you to…"
Before Gunther could finish, Imar shouted, "Damn it, do you want me to become a traitor to the dwarves? A whole bunch of humans, plus you and your lackeys—if my fellow clansmen find out, am I supposed to live?"
Gunther smirked. "Oh, dear Imar! You always act like you've never done something like this before, even though we've had several pleasant collaborations, and every time it's 'Do you want me to become a traitor?' I admire your shamelessness. Alright, then let me persuade you like I did the first time."
"Their fate is already sealed; they won't leak the dwarves' secrets. Besides, it's not like we'll let them actually go into the Rocky Mountains. We just need to deal with them in the surrounding area without drawing the attention of the folks inside."
He raised his voice, "Now, Imar, give me a straightforward answer: are you in or out? Also, I remind you that even without you, I will find other ways to keep those humans 'forever' here."
Imar rolled his eyes. "How many of them are there? What kind of weapons do they have?"
"Ha ha!" Gunther laughed happily, realizing that this dwarf was on board; he was a greedy guy and just needed a little prodding.
"There are about thirty of them, armed with nothing but knives and swords and light crossbows. The key is that none are in heavy armor; with a few dozen armored warriors, I can handle them."
"Fine, after we succeed, the spoils will be split half and half."
"You take two, I take eight!"
"You take six, I take four!"
"No! It's two for you and eight for me!"
"Damn it, I'm taking a huge risk here!"
...
Stanford sat on a tree stump, looking forlorn as he struggled to find a guide.
Was he really going to attempt to enter the Rocky Mountains without a guide?
"Hey, human!"
He heard a call and looked up to see a stout dwarf approaching him. This dwarf was shorter than the others and had a thicker waist; more notably, his beard was meticulously styled into small braids.
Wait, didn't I see him somewhere before?
"Uh? Were you calling me?"
"Of course, is there a second human around here?"
The dwarf walked up to him.
"I heard you're looking for a guide to the Rocky Mountains?"
"Yes, but I've searched your camp, and not a single dwarf is willing to help us."
"Hmph! That's because you haven't asked me, the great Imar! Didn't you search our camp? How could you not find me when the place is so small?"
"Uh…"
Stanford remembered that this was the irritable dwarf who had charged out of the tent at the beginning.
I don't want to get involved!
He forced a smile, "I'm sorry, Mr. Imar, it was my oversight not to find you. So, you're willing to help us?"
Imar pulled Stanford's clothes and dragged him to a secluded corner.
"What should I call you?"
"You can call me Stanford of Alden."
"Sigh! Why does everyone call me 'the warm-hearted Imar'? I guess I'll reluctantly take a trip, but you have to swear not to leak this to outsiders."
Stanford closed his eyes, raised his right hand, and extended his index and middle fingers together.
"In the sight of the Lord of Light and Paul Grayman, I swear I won't reveal to outsiders that Mr. Imar is our guide."
"What is all this nonsense?"
"My God and my lord."
"Alright!"
The dwarf lowered his voice, rubbing his thumb and index finger together in front of Stanford.
"Um… even though I'm helping you out of kindness, I'm also risking being discovered by my clansmen, so… you understand, right?"
Stanford smiled knowingly, "I understand! Please follow me!"
...
"Hmm… it's alright."
Looking at the white, milk-like vessels adorned with beautiful patterns in front of him, Imar nodded.
These items should fetch a good price among those foolish orcs who would mistake crystal for treasure.
Wait a minute… perhaps once I reclaim the chieftain's position, I'll need a special set of dinnerware to showcase my unique status?
These humans might have even more. Ah! I should grab as much as I can; thinking about how Gunther that fool wants to take most of it is really annoying.
Stanford didn't know what was going through the dwarf's mind and eagerly said, "Besides this set of vessels, there's also a bag of silver coins waiting for you on the other side of the mountain."
"Good!" Imar clapped his hands. "You all wait here for a few days. When my clansmen are ready to head back, I'll find an excuse not to go with them, then we'll quietly set off together."
"Thank you for your generous help."
Stanford forced a grateful expression and shook the dwarf's rough, sandpaper-like hand.
(End of the Chapter)
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