The Lich of Glory Knight Spirit: Moving towards Krimasha! Chapter 247 - 12: Small Goals

On the second day, Jones arrived in Hilde as promised.

This ti, he went alone and didn’t bring Dora. Mainly because leaving Goya alone in the castle made Jones a bit uneasy.

The night in Hilde was as bustling as ever, with the streets filled with various races and rchants from all over.

There were goblins hawking their destructively advanced new products. Dwarves were selling their gear. Elves had set up small stalls in the corners, quietly selling their magical potions. And of course, the most popular product here was always slaves.

Walking down Hilde’s streets, Jones had already seen at least three platforms auctioning off slaves of all sorts.

"Young master, won’t you take a look at our new stock? Humans! And among them, a freshly arrived human noble!"

"A newly arrived Blood Elf girl! Pure and flawless! Guaranteed satisfaction!"

"Dragon egg! Want to own a dragon? With this dragon egg, you can have one! Of course, it might turn out to be just a pseudo-dragon—who knows until it hatches?"

All Blood Clan Lords were essentially slave owners, so the slave trade here was more prosperous than anywhere else on the continent—even compared to the barbarian clans where slavery thrived. It t the Lords’ daily needs and indulged their bizarre and often sinister tastes.

Jones suddenly had a thought: The races auctioned off on the platforms and those conducting business below were, essentially, one and the sa. He wondered what the dwarves, elves, and humans felt seeing their own kind sold off as slaves?

"Beautiful Blood Clan girls! Fulfill all your fantasies!"

Jones sighed helplessly: "Well, even Blood Clan mbers are being auctioned. Maybe I’m the only one here who thinks about these things."

"Black Iron Dwarf! With him, you can have your very own blacksmith shop! Craft all kinds of gear!"

Jones suddenly stopped walking and glanced at the platform. He saw a rare sight: a dwarf without a single beard, dressed in ragged clothing, standing dazed while manacles clung to his wrists, as a goblin next to him fervently advertised the sale.

"One Black Iron Dwarf is enough to get a blacksmith shop?" Jones craned his neck forward: "How much for this Black Iron Dwarf?"

"Hehe! Young master, you have a good eye! This Black Iron Dwarf is top-tier rchandise!" The goblin on the platform hurriedly rushed toward Jones, stretching out two fingers: "Not much, just 2,000 gold coins!"

Jones turned and walked away.

The goblin behind him continued shouting: "Young master! Don’t go! 1,900 gold coins! 1,800! No lower than that! Fine, 1,700! 1,700!"

Even if it were just 1,000, Jones wouldn’t turn back, because he had weighed his pockets and found only 52 gold coins. That was his entire fortune. Yes, just 52 gold coins. Forget being the son of a Lord; among Blood Clan freen, this was poverty.

Perhaps he’d been with Gray too long, losing any sense of money. After all, the Silver Moon Knight Order never needed to spend money wherever they traveled. Jones hadn’t thought about money in a long ti.

But...

"Since I’ll have to stay here for quite a while anyway, why not build a castle of my own and move out?" Jones suddenly muttered to himself.

For the average Blood Clan mber, this was a colossal challenge—a lifeti goal. After all, building or buying a castle required an imnse amount of money. Maintaining a castle and supporting a host of slaves demanded stable inco. Jones had neither.

Of course, having spent so much ti with the Silver Moon Knight Order, one advantage was that while his stature hadn’t grown, his courage had. At least, Jones felt it wasn’t entirely impossible.

andering along, Jones finally arrived at the appointed location—a modest inn, far from luxurious.

The coarse outer walls looked as if they might crumble into dust. Semi-circular windows embedded with stained glass cast lancholy reflections under the glow of firelight. The place was spacious enough, and it was crowded with "people."

In Blood Clan territory, luxurious inns were practically nonexistent. Blood Clan mbers were fiercely territorial and powerful. Wealthy Blood Clan mbers typically owned their own domains and preferred to stay in their own hos. Guests, if any, were invited to private residences. Those who frequented places like this were usually non-Blood travelers or freeman Blood Clan mbers without their own land.

Still, despite being so close to his ho, why had Adelle invited him to such a place?

Thinking this over, Jones stepped into the inn.

The ground floor was a large hall, filled with worn-out tables and various races eating loudly, shouting, and creating a raucous din. Food was strewn across the floor, where a few rats darted back and forth.

The stairs leading to the second floor were guarded by four Zombie Soldiers, barring anyone from approaching.

They were the inn’s security forces.

From afar, Jones could already see the Adelle family’s steward waiting by the staircase. When the steward saw Jones, he hurriedly walked over, his pace quick as though he couldn’t bear to stay here a mont longer.

"Young Master Jones, my young master is already upstairs. Let us proceed."

Jones nodded lightly.

Led by the steward, Jones stepped onto the stairs and climbed up, step by step.

Reaching the second floor, the entire atmosphere shifted instantly. The floor was carpeted, the walls whitewashed, and even decorated with so ornants—though the taste was questionable. It felt more like a chaotic mix of random objects rather than an aesthetic style.