You were made to farm, and now you're the emperor of an empire?

Chapter 131 Cold Harbor
Cold harbor.

It is located near the northern land and is an ice-free port, giving it a natural advantage.

It is a prosperous and densely populated area facing the Arctic Ocean.

A cold front from the Igor region swept in, making the city's winter extremely difficult to endure; the temperature was so low that one could hardly speak.

Especially the biting cold wind; the port residents all believe that thieves in the cold harbor dare not commit crimes easily, because the cold wind will cut off the thieves' fingers.

But that was just a rumor.

Those guys are living a very comfortable life in this port city.

Even the harsh winter couldn't deter humanity's pursuit of wealth and trade; countless ships anchored here during the winter months. Docks lined the streets, and a steady stream of goods flowed in, supporting tens of thousands of professionals from all walks of life.

The air here is filled with a strange, salty stench, a mixture of fish, ocean, and excrement; the port streets are narrow and winding, with low and dilapidated houses on both sides; the magnificent domed cathedral is spectacular, with five towering towers like guardians of the Arctic ice; and there are surprisingly many taverns and inns, some in the bustling city and others hidden in narrow alleys.

It is a vibrant place for all sorts of people: noble knights, skilled craftsmen, Arctic people who have traveled from afar, busy businessmen, laborers from the bottom of society, and even rats from the sewers.

Some people's identities are obvious at a glance, and they don't bother to hide them.

However, some people keep a low profile and are unwilling to expose themselves.

People of different origins and backgrounds, crowded and noisy like a mixed bag, create a unique and charming atmosphere in Lenggang.

……

After arriving at Cold Harbor and unloading the last batch of salt, Morey hurriedly ordered the crew to set sail.

There are about 10,000 jin of salt left over from the last batch, which is far more than most towns can consume.

He took a full 100,000 jin of salt from Sige Town this time, thinking that this essential commodity would dissolve in the market as quickly as maltose.

But he was being somewhat optimistic.

The salt trade in Sigge town has affected the upper and lower reaches of the Bro River, and the market is nearing saturation.

He had no choice but to transport the salt to more distant places.

Since the beginning of this year, a large amount of salt has flooded the market, making it more difficult to sell. Prices in some places have even fluctuated. The nobles behind the salt-producing areas have probably long realized that a powerful and savage force is stirring up the market in the shadows.

By next spring at the latest, the belatedly aware nobles will find the town of Sig.

Negotiation or war.

Salt production in a certain area is too high, and it won't sell unless the price is lowered.

Salt production in Sige Town must be suppressed; otherwise, in the long run, everyone will have no money to make.

Morey wasn't worried about the young lord's safety.

Salt mines are discovered in the territories of lower-ranking nobles. They are either ousted or become one of the controllers.

The former is easy to understand: those with shallow backgrounds, weak foundations, and unwillingness to find partners will naturally be kicked out.

The latter only needs to share profits and form alliances to protect the salt mine from being taken away.

This is something Roman needs to worry about.

Morey also didn't believe that the ambitious lord would stumble on this matter.

Moreover, although the signboard of the Cracked Armor is teetering on the brink of collapse, it could still kill someone if it fell.

He had dozens of brothers and sisters, some of whom married nobles or knights, while others were nobles or knights themselves. As a descendant of a large family, he should have no shortage of collaborators.

In order to clear out inventory quickly, Morey chose to lower prices.

For other businessmen, this approach would result in much less profit, or even a complete waste of time.

However, his advantage lies in the low acquisition price. Roman gave him a huge discount, offering a 50% discount on the acquisition price. Even if the price is lowered, he can still make a huge profit.

Even so, he still wasted a lot of time.

The slaves haven't even been acquired yet.

If you want to buy slaves on a large scale, it is best to contact slave traders and trade in the wild.

In this way, there is no price difference and no tax.

Otherwise, a barely healthy slave would cost around one silver coin—the price standard for slaves came from the slave market.

When you drink beer at a pub, the price of the beer cannot be calculated based on the wholesale price.

Morey's decision to buy wine at the tavern and then sell it to Roman was purely out of necessity. The lord was desperate for slaves, and Morey couldn't contact any slave traders in the wild in the short term, so he had no choice but to buy ready-made ones.

He currently has ample financial resources and is not experiencing any financial difficulties.

The majority of the residents of Cold Harbor are Arctic people, and most of the Arctic people come from the land of Igor, which is also known for its pirates.

However, through layers of connections, the Arctic people were not necessarily pirates.

They were also natural-born navigators, adventurers, and shrewd businessmen, often acting as a buffer between the sea and the land.

Pirates sought them out to sell stolen goods, while land dwellers traded goods with them.

Most of the slave houses in Cold Harbor were also run by Arctic people.

On his way to the slave camp, Morey was calculating how many slaves he would buy this time. If he couldn't make money, so be it; he would just consider it an investment in the future sanctuary.

But when he saw four or five figures wearing cloaks on the narrow streets of Cold Harbour.

Morey's expression changed drastically, and he turned and left.

How did I end up with this bunch of plague gods?
His heart was pounding, and his steps became increasingly unsteady.

Morey returned to port, making no mention of the slave purchase, and immediately ordered all the sailors to set sail.

But when he returned to his cabin, before he could even catch his breath, his heart suddenly leaped into his throat.

A figure wearing a cloak appeared in the otherwise empty cabin.

Morey forced a smile and asked, "Madam, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Don't panic, it's me." Shasta pulled back his hood, revealing tired, bright red eyes and a delicate face that looked like a pearl covered in dust.

Morey was on the verge of tears. "I know it's you, that's why I panicked."

He asked, "How did you escape the encirclement and suppression in the north?"

The siege lasted for nearly half a year. The main force of the Holy See was unable to cross the Black Iron Kingdom. They could only send out wave after wave of small-scale demon hunters to fight the legendary Frost Tribe to the point of brain damage.

It is said that three hundred demon hunters died, enough to flatten the territory of any count. How come you didn't die there?

“My sisters came to meet me…” Shasta plopped down on the cargo box to rest, like a seabird that had been flying for days and finally found a place to land.

She was very weak, having spent months running around in a desperate and disorganized manner, and finally fled the northern lands like a stray dog.

As soon as he finished speaking, Morey felt the ship sway slightly.

He turned his head and saw an unusually tall, cloaked figure board the ship.

He looked up as the man bent down, entered the cabin, and pulled back his hood.

Morey initially thought it was a warrior guarding a witch, but it turned out to be another witch.

Her skin was as pale as marble, her eyes were icy blue, and she was incredibly tall, easily over two meters tall. She was both beautiful and imposing. The only flaw was the long, narrow, and menacing scar on her right cheek, which marred her striking yet delicate features.

Morey's face turned green!

He recalled the legends told by merchants from the north over this period of time—that the Nightmare Witch had an incarnation of wind and snow by her side, who single-handedly killed at least three-digit number of demon hunters.

"Shasta, is this the ship we're going to be on next?" Morey heard the tall, white-haired witch speak in human language, her accent somewhat awkward.

Before Shasta could respond, he immediately protested, "No, no, no, I have important things to do, I can't give you a ride!"

Then, when Morey saw the three cloaked witches ignore his words and follow him into the cabin, they all breathed a sigh of relief, as if they had found a safe haven.

The sailors and crew were somewhat at a loss, unsure whether they should stop them.

"This ship is yours for the taking. You can go wherever you want," Morey said angrily, turning to leave.

He had sworn never to let the witch board the ship.

This scourge will only bring greater harm.

Lord Roman is still waiting for him to transport the slaves. Now that more than forty days have passed, if he doesn't keep his promise, how can he move into the safe house in the future?

Are we destined to wander the world with these witches, living a nomadic life?
That's not funny at all!
Shasta leaned against the bulkhead, her black hair falling to the side of her face.

She was somewhat weak, and looking up at the cabin ceiling, she said, "Son of Selin, take us to see Selin. You must abide by the contract, or you will be expelled from the Perea family!"

(End of this chapter)