CH434 The Roadblock and Toll II
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Kavakan grew angrier the longer he listened to the tolln. It took everything he had not to grab his axe and smash their skulls in.
Sensing the hulking weretiger’s murderous intent, the burly tollman quickly reached for his own axe and raised it defensively.
"What are you people trying to pull?!" he shouted.
At once, the rest of the n at the roadblock surged forward, weapons drawn, forming a loose but aggressive line.
This gave Alex the opportunity he wanted.
He quickly counted their numbers.
Fifty n.
All ard. All armoured—though the quality varied wildly. Their gear was worn, mismatched, and dirty, but that was hardly surprising. In the Wildlands, clean water was a luxury, and hygiene was rarely worth dying over.
More importantly, Alex assessed their ranks.
Only the two n in front—the scrawny leader and the burly enforcer—were Silver-ranked. The rest were Bronze-ranked fighters.
On one hand, it was a stark illustration of the Wildlands’ brutality. A re toll group here boasted as many Bronze ranks as a Baron had assigned to guard a major fortress.
On the other hand, it made perfect sense.
Only ranked individuals survived in this hellhole. And from another perspective, anyone who did survive here would inevitably beco ranked—or die and be forgotten beneath the rocks and sand.
Looking into their eyes, Alex saw it clearly.
These weren’t green thugs or desperate peasants. Every one of them was a hardened fighter with blood on their hands.
They would pose a far greater challenge than Baron Helton’s n ever had.
Without breaking his calm, Alex reached into his satchel and tossed out five full Berserk Stones.
They clattered against the ground between the two groups.
"That should cover the toll for all of us," Alex said evenly.
Technically, the value was lower than what the toll would be in shards.
But full Berserk Stones were far more valuable than shards—especially in the Wildlands. Their exchange rate wasn’t fixed; it was dictated entirely by the seller.
And as far as Alex was concerned, five full stones were more than sufficient.
He wasn’t about to count out thousands of shards in the open—nor expose how much wealth they truly carried.
Efficiency dictated using full stones.
Unfortunately, efficiency was rarely appreciated in the Hollowcrest Wildlands.
And it was certainly not appreciated by greedy n.
"A full stone!" The burly man’s eyes lit up.
Behind him, several n inhaled sharply.
They couldn’t rember the last ti they had seen a full Berserk Stone. Their leaders might handle them from ti to ti, but low-ranking thugs like them barely ever laid eyes on one.
"We have paid the toll." Alex’s voice was calm but firm. "Now give us the toll cards."
The burly man’s gaze lingered on the stones, greed burning brighter by the second.
"No." He shook his head slowly. "Five isn’t enough."
He smirked.
"I want ten... no—fifty full Berserk Stones before I let you through."
Alex’s brows furrowed.
"Isn’t it a hundred shards per person?" he asked coolly. "How can five full Berserk Stones not be enough?"
"Because the price has gone up," the burly man replied without hesitation.
"And when did that happen?" Alex asked, shifting his gaze to the scrawny man beside him.
"Just now," the burly man said.
He lifted his axe and gave it a threatening flourish.
Then—
"Boss!" the man on the watchtower suddenly shouted. "Won! They’ve got won!"
At once, every pair of eyes shifted past Alex.
Their gazes locked onto the four won in the group.
Zora, Udara, and Silver were wrapped in light desert robes, shielding themselves from the scorching sun. Eleanor—though less affected by the heat—wore similar clothing and kept her face veiled to hide her elven heritage and avoid unnecessary trouble.
Still, no amount of concealnt could fully mask their extraordinariness.
Their eyes remained visible above the veils, sharp and composed. Udara and Silver had their legs and feet exposed for ease of movent.
That was enough.
Lust flared openly in the burly man’s eyes.
Sensing the shift, Alex reached into his satchel again, intending to simply end the matter with more paynt.
But the burly man raised a hand, stopping him.
"Hold on." He grinned. "We’ll talk about the toll later."
He turned his gaze fully toward the won.
"You ladies," he said crudely, "take off those robes and let get a proper look at you."
His smile widened.
"Maybe if you keep us company for a while, we won’t take any toll at all."
The mont the words left the man’s mouth, the expedition party trembled.
Not in anger, but in trepidation.
Their gazes snapped instantly to Alex.
Alex lifted his eyes to the night sky, gazing at the pale moon hanging above the desert. Then, slowly, he sighed.
To the toll n, it sounded like the sigh of a man who had co to resignation.
Several of them chuckled, already imagining the female company they would soon get to enjoy after so long in this wasteland.
But to the expedition party, that sigh sounded sothing entirely different.
It was not the sigh of a weak man.
No—
It was the sigh of a predator realising it could slumber no more.
’When a tiger slumbers for too long, people assu it is a sick cat.’
Alex lowered his gaze, turning to his party.
His eyes were cold—frigid. The usual ruby-red had darkened into a deep, ominous crimson. Even Udara, who had fought by his side countless tis, had never seen his eyes like this.
Alex was angry.
Not rely irritated, but so thoroughly enraged.
The expedition party assud his rage was directed at the toll n.
But in truth, it was aid at himself.
Kron Belloc’s warning echoed in his mind.
"It isn’t just about having power. You have to show it. Otherwise, flies will swarm you."
Alex glanced toward the won—briefly, apologetically.
’I didn’t take his warning seriously enough.’ He berated himself.
Then his gaze snapped back to the toll n.
’And now these filth dare cast their eyes on you?’
’No longer!’
A flash of light erupted.
[Featherflight]!
Lost in his fury, Alex cast the speed-enhancing spell near-instantly, pouring mana into the Draconic Baton at the sa ti.
The weapon unsheathed, elongated to a full tre—
—and struck.
Thump!
The burly man stared in horror as both his arms fell to the ground, severed cleanly along with the axe that had given him his confidence.
A heartbeat passed.
Then—
"AAAAAAHHHHH!!!"
He collapsed, screaming in agony.
The toll n froze, stunned into silence.
That silence shattered when Alex’s voice rang out—cold, absolute, and terrifying.
"Kill them all."
He kicked the burly man aside as if he were nothing more than refuse.
The order had barely left his lips when the expedition party moved.
Without hesitation nor wasted breath— as though they had been waiting for permission all along...
They surged forward.
***
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