CHAPTER 141: CHAPTER 141: BARBARIAN TRIBES WARRIOR_1

"This little one doesn’t count; consider it a gift."

The Slave Owner was shrewd. He detected the shift in Tiffany’s emotions. Giving away an infant no one wanted in exchange for goodwill was a transaction he was willing to make.

Lance showed no significant reaction and continued onward, observing the children in the cells.

There weren’t many children, only about a dozen, mostly between five and ten years old. Having been abducted, they all seemed cowed by the harsh environment.

He casually picked five more who had sound limbs and normal reactions.

By the time he reached the third level, the conditions had improved slightly. Most here were held in individual cells, not for any particular reason, but simply because they were more expensive.

"The cheapest ones here start at tens of Gold Coins. Look at this one; an average family couldn’t raise a girl like her. She used to be attended by several maids, her hands as smooth as mutton-fat jade. It’s just that this disaster... her father went bankrupt..."

The Slave Owner enthusiastically introduced these women to Lance. Tiffany, however, looked at them with fear in her heart and couldn’t help but glance at Lance. If he hadn’t come, then when the trading company eventually failed, would she have been captured as a slave and put up for selection too?

"Show me something interesting. Don’t waste my time."

Indeed, all these women were very attractive, a clear step up in quality compared to the common folk below.

He had some money on hand now, but not enough to spend frivolously, so he had to be economical.

He needed labor and fighting power; everything had to pave the way for development. These women simply couldn’t meet his needs.

Seeing Lance’s lack of interest, the Slave Owner wasn’t so eager this time. The high-end market wasn’t easily filled by refugees, and although these ’goods’ were discounted, they would still find buyers.

"Of course, there is! Look this way, sir. We’ve got ourselves a Barbarian warrior."

"Oh? How did you get her?" Lance was indeed interested.

The earlier battle with the Wolf Faction had been harrowing. Those Barbarians were all fierce and unafraid of death, making capturing one much harder than killing one.

Tiffany was equally curious. It wasn’t that she’d never seen a Barbarian warrior—on the contrary, due to their proximity to the Misty Mountains, tribal mercenaries were a common sight. However, it was rare to see a Barbarian enslaved.

"Strange as it sounds, she came to us. Charged our caravan all by herself. Looks like she was definitely expelled from her tribe—some fanatic seeking a warrior’s death..."

Lance understood his meaning. The ’caravan’ he mentioned was actually a team of Slave Catchers, who also transported goods as a side business.

Generally, Barbarians were also fond of ’free acquisitions,’ descending from the mountains to plunder caravans for supplies. They would only resort to buying with money or trading mountain goods if they couldn’t overpower them.

Therefore, those who dared to trade with Barbarians were all ruthless individuals and powerful caravans. Naturally, Slave Catchers also kept an eye on these areas.

Who was right or wrong in these encounters had long since become blurred.

As for this Barbarian warrior, the Slave Owner judged that her solo suicidal charge meant she had likely committed some grave offense in her tribe and was seeking redemption through death.

Soon, the two were led to a cell. Behind the bars stood a woman dressed in Barbarian-style animal hide garments.

She appeared young, with long, wine-red hair. One side of her face was covered in indigo tattoos. Her exposed limbs showcased lean, well-defined muscles—not overly bulky, but clearly conveying a sense of power.

However, her body was covered in whip marks, the dried blood forming dark streaks.

Evidently, Lance’s scrutinizing gaze awakened her. The moment their eyes met, she lunged forward. Her movement was so fast that the sound of chains clanking and straining taut followed a split second later.

"ROOOAR!"

The woman roared wildly, her struggles causing the chains to clang incessantly. With bloodshot eyes and bared teeth, she looked as fierce as a lioness ready to pounce on its prey.

Tiffany was startled by this display and instinctively stepped back. Even though the woman was chained and behind iron bars, she still felt a twinge of fear.

"Damn it! Starved for three days and she still has this much strength!" Even the Slave Owner felt a surge of alarm, wondering if the ancient structure could withstand such frenzied power.

Only Lance remained unmoved, his gaze fixed on her, a slow smile spreading across his calm face.

Noticing this, the Slave Owner immediately pushed aside his concerns and launched into his sales pitch.

"Look, sir! A formidable Barbarian warrior! She’d be an excellent Guard or a great draw in the arena."

"How much?"

"One hundred Gold Coins."

"Ten."

That offer cut him to the quick. The Slave Owner hurriedly added, "This is a rare female Barbarian warrior! Five of my men died capturing her..."

"I don’t care how many of your men died. That has nothing to do with me," Lance interrupted, glancing at him.

"If you could make her obey, then one hundred Gold Coins might be reasonable. But the problem is, you clearly can’t tame this wild beast. If she won’t obey, she’s useless, no matter how good she is."

"Absolutely not! That price is far too low! I’d rather sell her to an arena!" The Slave Owner shook his head frantically. This offer truly cut to the bone.

"If you really could sell her to an arena, you would have done so already. No arena wants goods that look like they’re on their last legs. Right now, I’m probably the only one willing to spend a little money to take a gamble on her. If she starves for another day or two, she’ll be dead. Then all you’ll have is a corpse."

The Slave Owner was in a bind. He was also worried about this Barbarian.

It was just as Lance said: the woman was completely untamable. No amount of torture worked. One of his underlings had even died instantly when he got too close and she bit his throat open.

He had, in fact, tried contacting the arenas; a female Barbarian warrior could generate a lot of hype.

But the arena operators weren’t fools. They made their money from betting, not ticket sales. One look and they could tell this one was uncontrollable. How could they manipulate the odds with her?

They just told him they’d take her once she was ’trained.’ Damn it all, if he could train her, she wouldn’t be going for this price! It would be at least double!

But to have the price slashed to almost nothing like this? How could he possibly accept it?

"How about a little cheaper? Sixty?"

"You and I both know she’s not worth that price."

Seemingly understanding their conversation, the woman struggled even more frantically. Her hands and feet, already raw from the chains, began to bleed anew as she shrieked in broken speech, her words interspersed with unintelligible tribal war cries.

"WAAAGH! Kill you all!"

"She’s lost her mind, impossible to communicate with. No value." Lance observed her frenzied state and slowly shook his head, appearing to lose interest.

The Slave Owner immediately grew anxious. He hastily held up three fingers. "Thirty! And I’ll throw in two more children!"

"Twenty," Lance said, pressing down one of the Slave Owner’s fingers. "And I want all the children you have left."