The dragon just wants to stay at home, but the players are frantically upgrading their technology.

"Why aren't you going to pay your respects to your teacher?"

After saying that, Mog gave Nera, who was too scared to move, a push.

Naira staggered to the front of the caliber of justice and hurriedly knelt down.

"Disciple Nera greets... greets teacher!"

She knelt on the ground, not daring to look at the slogan "Justice is the only truth," and stammered out a cry.

Looking at the blue-scaled dog-headed man kneeling on the ground, Kouchijizheng's expression was subtle.

This was the first time she had ever been asked to become an apprentice by an NPC in a game.

Previously, players would become apprentices of NPCs.

"We have students! Aren't you happy?"

Zhan Shuai stepped forward, patted the man on the shoulder, and called out with a smile.

"Hahaha~"

"Justice is justice" smiled and helped Nera up.

For a time, the atmosphere was harmonious and joyful, and both guests and hosts enjoyed themselves immensely.

What followed went very smoothly.

The details of the alliance agreement have been finalized.

Priest Mog asked for a piece of paper, and, unaccustomed to it, picked up a quill pen, dipped it in ink, and copied it down in the ancient common language according to what the war general read.

The contract must be identical in both copies before it becomes effective.

However, an unexpected problem arose with the trade contract.

"Mr. Zhan Shuai, what are these Dragon Scale Coins?"

When he was halfway through copying, Mog looked up and frowned at the war commander who was reading the contents aloud.

"Why can't we just trade coarse salt for weapons, instead of exchanging it for so-called Dragon Scale Coins to buy weapons?"

"This is a type of currency we use, which acts as an intermediate equivalent and is more convenient."

"When using it, you don't need to carry valuable goods back and forth to buy things."

The caliber of the argument is the interpretation of justice.

This naturally contains the clever ideas of the players.

Just like the Earth, a country's currency usually represents that country's influence.

When the surrounding areas are using your currency, you can exert influence and gain more benefits through it.

"But these dragon scale coins are ultimately useless, so why do we need them at all?"

Mog looked at Caliber is Justice, his brow furrowed.

"If you're unwilling to sell us weapons, what use are these Dragonscale Coins to us?"

He didn't understand economics, but as a priest, he instinctively abhorred anything that posed a risk to the clan.

"That's not necessarily true. Dragon Scale Coins can buy a lot of things here."

"Justice is in the eye of the beholder" smiled and asked a question.

"If you defeat the Black Iron Tribe later, will you still need to trade coarse salt for weapons?"

"Of course not."

Priest Mog answered without hesitation.

"At that time, you will want to trade coarse salt for other things."

“Why not draft another contract, specify the amount, and negotiate that? It’s much more troublesome to just use currency from the beginning.”

As he spoke, the caliber of justice reached out and pulled over the contract written in Chinese characters.

Dipping his brush in ink, he spoke and wrote, his words conveying the message of justice.

"Since you don't trust Dragonscale Coins, then so be it."

"We'll pay a portion of the Dragon Scale Coins in exchange for the magic inheritance."

"If you are still not satisfied with the Dragon Scale Coins after using them, you can directly exchange the coarse salt and its exclusive purchase right for weapons."

After finishing writing, Justice handed the quill to Priest Mog and said calmly.

"This clause can be added to the trade agreement."

No amount of talking can compare to experiencing it firsthand.

"can."

At this point, Priest Mog had no reason not to sign.

Taking the quill pen, he wrote down what he wanted to say, then skipped the unwritten part and signed his name at the end to show his attitude.

After finalizing some details, Priest Mog finished writing the remaining half of the trade contract.

Next, the two parties exchanged two copies of the contract and signed their names in their respective languages.

Each of them made a copy as a replica, and the alliance and trade were thus successfully completed.

While waiting for other players to send Dragon Scale Coins, the group chatted idly.

"Priest Mog, the Dark Iron Horde is so much stronger than you, how could you possibly hold out for half a year?"

"I am curious," Zhan Shuai asked.

P.S.: I've thought about the origin of the Language Proficiency Stone several times, and I felt that the way Priest Mog obtained it was abnormal and unreasonable, so I made some changes.

Chapter 35: That's not how you play Clan Wars!

“You are unaware of something.”

Mog sat at the square table, his mouth a little dry. He picked up the earthenware bowl of water on the table and took a small sip.

The clear, sweet river water melted in his mouth, and an aged voice came from Mog's lips.

Larger tribes and clans are mostly composed of individual settlements.

"Just like the goblin lair you attacked, it's just a settlement of the Dark Iron Horde."

Mog explained.

"This is because a region has limited food sources such as animals, wild fruits, and mushrooms, and therefore a limited number of people it can support."

Based on his observations, Mog guessed that the Blackscale Clan was probably a wild kobold tribe in the past.

Due to their exceptional technical talent, they were transformed by His Majesty the Black Dragon and formed a clan.

This explains why the War General and others were completely ignorant about the Blackrock Mountains and the demi-human race.

“Our Rainbow Scale Clan has six settlements, mainly divided into five small camps based on the color of the scales, and a large camp managed by me and the clan chief.”

"Each camp typically has around a hundred people."

"But for some reason, the goblin lair of the Black Iron tribe can support about two hundred people."

As he said this, Mog's expression showed confusion and helplessness.

"Their main camp can have as many as six hundred people, which is why we have been unable to compete with them."

Listen, caliber is justice reminds me of the mushroom fields in the goblin lair.

Immediately, "Cutline is Justice" glanced at Mog and thought to himself.

The goblins have started farming, while you're still hunting and gathering. It would be a miracle if you could even win.

"We've gone a bit off-topic."

Mog gave an apologetic smile and took another sip of water.

"Based on my experience, with such a distribution, the large camp has very limited control over the small camps. For example, I control five tribes."

Mog chuckled self-deprecatingly and didn't try to hide it.

"In fact, I estimate that there are more than fifty Dragonblood Warriors in the five divisions combined, but only more than thirty have been reported."

When he mentioned the thirty-odd people, Mog's tone was low and somewhat cold.

"The line is justice"—it's a simplified version of the central-local relationship, without any obstacles.

"This makes things much simpler."

Mog put down the ceramic bowl, raised his head, and gazed in a certain direction as if his eyes were piercing through the wall.

"It's nothing more than having more blood drained by the Black Iron Tribe."

“Continue to apologize, return the hostages, and then cede territory to the Redscale tribe that is at odds with me, just to buy time.”

Upon hearing this, Naira, who was standing behind the "sound is justice" banner, felt a chill run down her spine as a sense of unfamiliarity and coldness crept up her spine.

She looked at the high priest before her, never imagining that such words would come from the mouth of such a respected priest.

He could talk about betraying his own tribe so casually.