The monsters glare at the humans, their eyes filled with thinly veiled hatred. A hulking ogre growls under his breath, gripping the edge of a crate so tightly that the wood splinters.
"If not for Refu's orders, these humans wouldn't last a second," a goblin mutters to another, his yellow teeth bared.
"Yeah," the other sneers. "We'd tear them apart."
It's no secret that humans and monsters despise one another. Monsters are hunted for their bodies—their hides, claws, and bones turned into weapons, potions, and talismans. In turn, monsters see humans as nothing more than prey—food, or worse. The orcs in particular have a reputation for abducting human women, using them to breed their next generation of warriors.
The caravan presses forward, the humans feeling the weight of the monsters' hostile stares.
"Captain," Lina whispers, her fingers tightening around her staff. "Like usual, they're looking at us like we're fresh meat."
Doran doesn't turn, his gaze fixed ahead.
"Let them look. They know better than to try anything."
"They hate us," Kiel mutters, his voice shaking slightly. "You can feel it in the air."
Tarak chuckles darkly, his hand resting on the hilt of one of his axes.
"Good. Let 'em hate us. Makes it all the sweeter when they remember who's in charge."
"Enough," Doran says sharply. "Focus. We're here to deliver the goods and leave. No unnecessary confrontations."
Alix watches the scene from the shadows of a crumbling building, his hood drawn low over his face. He spots the caravan immediately—the humans stand out like beacons among the monstrous crowd. Their formation is tight, their movements precise, and their wary glances give away their unease.
Curious, Alix activates his system and examines them one by one.
"The strongest is only level 50?" he murmurs to himself, his expression indifferent.
Moments later, the crowd of monsters begins to part, a low rumble of anticipation spreading through them. A bloated ogre strides forward, his massive bulk shaking the ground with each step. His skin is dark and rough, like hardened leather, and he wears a crude metal breastplate that barely contains his girth. On either side of him, two lean, muscular gnolls follow closely, their sharp teeth bared in a perpetual snarl.
[Gnoll Guard: Level 40]
[Gnoll Guard: Level 42]
Refu's deep, gravelly voice booms as he approaches the merchant.
"You're late," Refu growls, his small, beady eyes narrowing.
The merchant hurriedly hops down from the wagon.
"Apologies, the roads were rough, but I've brought the usual supplies."
Refu snorts, crossing his massive arms. "You'd better have. I don't tolerate delays."
Doran steps forward, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. His voice is steady, but there's a sharp edge to it.
"The delivery is intact, as always. Let's make this quick."
Refu sneers, waving a thick hand toward a nearby goblin.
"Get all the materials. Now. And make it fast, before I squish you to death."
The goblin yelps, scrambling into the caravan. A few tense moments pass before it returns, arms overflowing with various herbs that can only be found deep in the forest, monster parts, and other assorted items. The goblin dumps everything unceremoniously onto the ground at Refu's feet.
Refu grins, "Good. Now it's your turn,"
Turning back to the merchant. "I can't wait to see what you've brought me this time. Hahaha!".
The merchant quickly gestures to his men. "Unload everything. Now."
The human workers spring into action, hauling crates from the wagons. The first few contain slabs of raw meat, likely from hunted beasts, followed by crude healing potions and a few others Alix can't identify. Finally, they drop a hefty sack of gold coins at Refu's feet.
Alix narrows his eyes, watching intently. 'Low-grade healing potions and a bit of gold? That's hardly worth an excitement.'
His question is answered when the final wagon is unloaded. From its dark interior, two human women are dragged out, their wrists bound in heavy chains. They stumble forward, their eyes wide with fear and exhaustion, their thin clothes doing little to protect them from the chill in the air.
The moment they're revealed, the crowd erupts in a mix of cheers and guttural laughter.
Refu's grin widens as he steps closer, towering over the trembling women.
"Ah, now this is what I've been waiting for. Fresh stock." He chuckles darkly.
Alix feels a flicker of something—a distant, fleeting pang of recognition. As a human, at least in his past life. But now, standing among monsters, he feels no pity, no sympathy. The sight stirs nothing in him.
He waves a hand dismissively. "Alright, take these two women to my house first."
The two gnolls at his side immediately spring into action, grabbing the women by their chains. The women scream, their voices cracking with desperation.
One of them wails, her tear-streaked face turning toward Doran and his group.
The other woman sobs, her knees buckling as the gnolls drag her forward.
"Don't leave us! Please!"
Doran's jaw tightens, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He keeps his gaze down, his teeth grinding audibly.
The merchant shifts uncomfortably, glancing at Doran.
"Let it go," he murmurs, barely audible. "We can't afford a fight here."
Refu smirks, clearly enjoying the tension. "Here's your pay for the women," he says, kicking a small wooden box toward the merchant. "I even went out of my way to find this herb. So rare, I almost gave up."
Doran says nothing. He crouches, picks up the wooden box, and tosses it to the merchant without a word.
"Move out," Doran orders his group curtly, his voice low and cold.
The merchant gives a quick nod, and his workers hurriedly load back onto the wagons.
Alix watches from the shadows, his eyes narrowing. The scene plays out like a twisted drama, yet he remains detached, observing every detail. He notes Doran's clenched fists, the women's fading cries, and Refu's triumphant sneer.