As it turns out, seafaring crews are always very accurate in their estimation of the time spent at sea.

That morning, the desert elf Oberd set foot on the land he had been absent for a long time, although it was still a short distance from his true hometown.

"Captain," said one of the mercenaries, still holding a piece of papyrus stamped with a large stamp, "all the goods have been inspected by the black skins, and we have paid our taxes, and we can unload the goods for delivery." ”

As he spoke, the mercenary also winked at Aubard, deliberately accentuating the pronunciation of "all": How could the mercenary group escort goods without some private goods?

In fact, carrying some private goods has become a major feature of the mercenary industry. Each mercenary group has a unique way of entrainment, which is classified as an industry secret and strictly guarded.

For example, Aubard's "wandering elves" mercenary group usually manipulate the vessels that transport goods. The crates and barrels containing the fossils were made of processed wood and contained many hidden compartments.

According to Oberd and his men, this kind of rock powder is actually an alchemical material, which can be mixed with water to make ice, and it is very profitable to sell it to mages.

But what these mercenaries didn't know was that their regimental commander had concealed some facts, and that these extremely high concentrations of saltpeter powder could be used to make ice and also to do some "big things", of course, there was no need to tell everyone.

"Now that we have our tax returns," said Oberd, shaking the thin papyrus in his hand, "then what are you waiting for? You know, a few days after Opat's Day, the taverns in Beit City are usually on sale, just in time for my treat!"

After a long journey at sea, almost all the mercenaries were looking forward to the moment when they would go ashore. And the words of the Desert Elf mercenary leader, like a spark, ignited the velvet piled up in everyone's hearts.

After a few successive applause, everyone threw off their arms and worked hard, striving to let the regiment commander pay for a treat as soon as possible. Obold gestured to his subordinate who had just gone to file a tax return, and the old and clever mercenary immediately understood and turned and walked towards the warehouse.

He'd have to find a spacious, secluded warehouse, and he'll have to find something. In order to wait for the owner to pick up the goods and the young mercenaries to relax, they worked overtime with the regiment commander to take out the entrained private goods in advance.

He's been doing this for a few years, so he's pretty familiar with it. As the mercenaries moved crates and drums into the warehouse, he began to work in a corner where no one was looking.

Just as he was dismantling the interlayer on the 230th barrel, O'Bird walked up behind him with a packet of roast meat and a keg of light beer, "How's it going, is the tarpaulin leaking?"

After taking the food, the henchman stood up, on the one hand, it was convenient for Aubard to check, and on the other hand, it also saved the saltpeter powder that had not been wet from the juice of the barbecue or the beer that had not yet been divided into small kegs, "I will do my job, you can rest assured." ”

The desert elf nodded, pointing to the remaining hundred or so barrels that had not yet dismantled the mezzanine, "You go to the 'Sailor's House' to find everyone for a drink, and say that today's consumption will be recorded in my account, and I will be responsible for completing the rest." ”

The old mercenary knew when to give up, so after thanking him, he left the warehouse humming a little song. Oberd closed the door of the warehouse and took great pains to put all the saltpeter powder into small barrels and seal it tightly.

Reaching out and aiming at the small round barrels piled up, a flash of light flashed on the "worm plate armor" hidden under the burqa, and hundreds of acid mist worms poured out of the iron gauntlet, wrapped the keg full of saltpeter powder, and then returned to the iron gauntlet with the keg.

"Art is an explosion. ”

A clueless word came out of Oberd's mouth, and then, as if he had ignored why so many terrible worms had suddenly burst out of his armor, he ignored his own words, he had other work to do.

Leaving the temporary warehouse on the docks, the Desert Elf mercenary leader followed the bustling flow of people and strode into the city of Beit.

Although I have been to Bait a few times before, it is pure nonsense that I can guarantee that I will not get lost in this huge city known as the "City of Ten Thousand Cities" just by visiting a few times.

But once he had put on the worm plate armor, Oberd no longer had to worry about the direction: a sense of urgency drove him to the southwest of the city.

In an almost diagonal fashion, he walked straight through the capital of Medici.

"Tailor, the goods have arrived, can I have the other supplies I need?"

Lifting the curtain of the tent, Obold stepped into a colorful tent on Caniwo Street. Seeing that familiar figure, he was no longer polite when they first met, but took the lead in greeting him with cold words that were almost harsh.

"It's neat," the Tieflin spy, dressed like a street soothsayer, "just sent off the tinkerer and a mercenary arrived," she sat down in front of the desk and pointed to the shadow hanging over her side, "What you want, you've been ready for a long time." ”

Before he could finish speaking, the demonic kobold assassin hidden in the tent revealed his form and dragged the two chests out of the corners. The tailor raised his hand to open the clasp and pushed it down in front of the mercenary leader: "The best quality sulfur and charcoal." ”

After a few smirks that could not tell if the worm plate was coming from or from Aubard himself, the Desert Elf mercenary leader held out his palm against the chest full of brimstone and charcoal.

The acid mist worms poured out, devoured the material, and retracted into the plate armor, as if a human had stomach bloating due to indigestion, and O'Brid's body suddenly swelled a lot, and even the plate armor on his body was stretched out a little.

The power of the demon lord that lingered on the plate armor took effect, the swelling was stopped, and the plate armor returned to its original form. The desert elf twisted twice through the iron glove, and a circular hole appeared in the center of the palm, from which a dark acid mist worm poked its head out and spewed out a small puff of black powder.

The other palm carefully caught the powder, and roughly snatched a piece of papyrus from the tailor's desk, with which Obold held up the small pile of powder, removed an iron glove, and spread the paper on the palm of his hand.

Finally, he uttered a monosyllabic incantation, and the iron glove he was still carrying suddenly turned red from the heat, and then ignited the powder on the palm of his other hand with a burning finger.

Through the paper, the black powder burned violently, but the desert elf's unarmored palm did not feel overheated, and after a closer inspection, the paper under the powder was not ignited.

"Very good quality," Oberd approving, then turned his gaze to the half-demon kobold, "You're the Assassin tonight?"

Before he could finish speaking, the worm plate armor suddenly burst out, and several acid mist worms suddenly burst out, binding the assassin to death. The hole in Oberd's Iron Glove had not yet closed, and the distinctive black acid mist worm poked out of its body and penetrated deep into the Assassin's mouth.

"Remember your line: art is an explosion!"