CHAPTER 143: CHAPTER 143: KNOCKING_1

He took the keys from the guard, turned around, and under everyone’s gaze, unlocked the complicated shackles on the Barbarian Woman’s body.

The sound of chains hitting the ground soon followed, and the Barbarian Woman flexed her limbs. Her gaze fell on Lance, but she took no action, instead turning to look at the Slave Owner outside.

"Behave yourself. Right now, the only way you’re getting out of here is by following me," Lance admonished her, then turned and walked out of the cell.

"Be careful!" Tiffany exclaimed, alarmed to see Lance daring to turn his back on the Barbarian, and quickly offered a warning.

Her words drew the Barbarian Woman’s attention, but she merely glanced before following Lance out of the cell without any further action.

Seeing this, the Slave Owner immediately retreated behind the guards, who all gripped their weapons, on alert.

But what puzzled the Slave Owner was that this Barbarian didn’t attack him. Although her eyes were full of rage, she made no further movement.

Could it mean this Barbarian has actually been tamed by him?

What made his blood pressure soar even more was the thought that the Barbarian, who had struggled so fiercely and fearlessly against him, was now subdued by a few whispered words!

Did he poison her with something he said? They must know each other! If he’d even pretended it was a struggle, I wouldn’t be this worked up!

Now, he felt as though someone had stolen hundreds of Gold Coins from him; the Gold Coins in his hand suddenly lost their appeal.

Turns out I’m the real sucker...

But he possessed at least the basic principles of a merchant and didn’t shout for a higher price or anything similar. Instead, he had his men bring the gear she had been wearing when captured.

After all, he could sense that this client was very strong; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to control the Barbarian so easily. He understood the importance of showing goodwill to such a person.

The Barbarian Woman’s equipment was merely a shabby Axe-Halberd. The smithing skills of the Barbarian Tribes were poor, so they couldn’t produce high-quality weapons. Their creations were either too cumbersome, or they had to resort to theft to acquire better ones.

The weapon was handed to Lance, who immediately passed it to the Barbarian Woman.

Honestly, this move not only made the Slave Owner anxious, fearing she would go on a rampage, but even the Barbarian Woman herself was a bit surprised by this man’s audacity and arrogance. Wasn’t he afraid she’d chop him down with her axe?

However, the preceding intense struggles had already depleted her meager reserves of strength. Now, she lacked the energy to consider such things and could barely even hold her weapon.

"Take the women and children to the Walter Conglomerate’s base," Lance ordered without wasting words. Having seen all he needed to, he led everyone away.

Stepping out of the prison and seeing the outside world, a longing for freedom surged within the Barbarian Woman. She gripped the weapon in her hand as she looked at the man’s back.

"Even if I let you go, do you think you could escape? At best, you’d just be caught and dragged back here."

The Barbarian Woman turned her head away upon hearing this, clearly disobedient. Lance paid her no mind and continued walking.

"I know you can understand me. For now, focus on healing your injuries. I’ll give you another chance to challenge me later, so no one can say I took advantage of your weakness."

The Barbarian Woman said nothing but still followed him out.

Tiffany found it odd. This Barbarian warrior had been incredibly defiant just moments ago, yet she was now so docile under Lance’s command.

Back at the base, Lance made arrangements for the former slaves. He didn’t even know the name of the woman holding the baby, nor did he particularly care, casually instructing, "You’re in charge of looking after these children. If you need anything, just ask her."

He had it easy, but it was tough on Tiffany. Fortunately, there was enough space here; otherwise, settling so many children would have been very difficult, not to mention the group of a hundred adults who hadn’t yet arrived.

"Why are we buying so many slaves?"

Tiffany knew many people liked to buy a few slaves for amusement, and she had initially thought Lance was the same.

But she soon realized that he had purchased large groups of men and children and showed no interest in the women. The two special cases were one given as a gift, and the other clearly intended as a warrior.

This abnormal behavior left her somewhat baffled.

"Because development requires labor."

"In that case, wouldn’t refugees be better? There would be plenty of people willing to work for you in exchange for a meal."

"You still don’t understand why some become slaves while others don’t even qualify. These have all been pre-selected. I’ve bought skilled craftsmen and healthy young men. Where would you find refugees of this quality outside?"

Lance was very clear about his actions, and he had another reason for this approach.

"Besides, without these slaves, how would we take the traitors and their families with us?"

Hearing this, Tiffany understood. This was Lance’s true objective; everything else was merely a means to this end.

She, of course, didn’t understand why Lance was so fixated on those traitors. It was because literate people were so rare in this world, and these merchants could not only read and write but also understood mathematics and could decipher account books.

If he could control them and make them fulfill their potential, it would greatly benefit his territory’s development.

The foundation of science is mathematics. Without mathematics, science is nothing but rootless driftweed.

"But you’re right, refugees are also part of my calculations."

The main aim of Lance’s journey had been to find more talent and gather more refugees; he certainly wouldn’t waste any opportunity.

But not now. He didn’t have enough people at his disposal and had to resolve the Conglomerate’s issues before he could free up some manpower.

"Go take care of things. And take her with you; give her a separate room to recover in."

Tiffany looked at the Barbarian Woman with some concern.

"Don’t worry, she won’t go mad before she defeats me," Lance said with a smile, nodding at the Barbarian Woman. "Right?"

The Barbarian Woman glared back, speaking broken Common Tongue, "I will definitely crush you, you little shrimp!"

"Alright, alright, then heal up quickly," Lance said with an unconcerned laugh and a dismissive wave, as if dealing with a crying child.

"WAAAGH!"

His attitude enraged the Barbarian Woman. Following a war cry, she seemed ready to pounce, but Lance moved faster, clamping a hand around her neck and cutting her furious outburst short.

With one hand, he pulled her close, his expression revealing a fierce intent. His intense murderous aura made even Tiffany, standing nearby, tremble with fear—let alone the Barbarian Woman, who was like a helpless chick before him.

"It’s good to be full of youthful vigor; it means you have energy. But all arrogance must be backed by sufficient strength; otherwise, it’s just a joke. The next time you think of lashing out, you’d better consider whether you actually possess the strength to challenge me."

The sensation of suffocation overwhelmed her. The Barbarian Woman struggled in vain against his grip, which was like iron tongs. In less than a minute, her eyes began to roll back, showing only the whites.

In that moment, she seemed to see her ancestors beckoning to her.