Chapter 850 (2/2)

Alana assured Randidly that it seemed like everyone within was happy, but there was another problem; Zone Seven also considered itself as something of a production-centric Zone and was currently in very aggressive talks with both material manufacturers and production facilities on New Earth. They clearly wanted to dominate the new market and had prepared quite a bit to do just that.

Coming back to Earth, Randidly didn’t know much about the prices about commodities on the market. But some of the numbers Zone Seven was offering seemed ridiculous.

Mrs. Hamilton suspects that they deliberately delayed their entrance into New Earth in order to stockpile resources to flood the market. Alana informed Randidly. The only problem was that both Zone One and Donnyton are pretty firmly established as both producers and distributors of weapons. And the populations of the Zones were rather unimpressed by Zone Seven’s products. They give a lot of stats for cheap, but no warrior worth his salt is willing to skimp on what he spends on a sword.

So they are being blocked out of the market? Randidly had asked.

Alana responded in the negative. No. Sam said, and I quote, “If they want to inform the market that they use cheap materials, why stop ‘em?” East End was interested in higher-end versions of the swords and armor they offered, but it seems like the lack of response really threw the government of Zone Seven for a loop. They’ve been quiet for a week.

Zone Seven connected to the world directly North of Zone Thirty-Two, so this was another Zone that was a near neighbor. Meanwhile, Zone Eleven connected to the growing world at a spot to the Northwest of Zone One.

And Zone Eleven is fucking weird. Alana said, keeping her face passive during one of the sessions where Obyrn continued to sweat across the wooden table from them. The small drops slowly froze on his face. They speak in a weird faux-British accent and seem more like they are roleplayers than real people. Clarissa is ecstatic; apparently, all of their Classes and Skills are based upon Dungeons and Dragons. Not as much population as any of the other Zones seem to have, but almost all of them immediately joined an Order once they heard about them. They jump at quest opportunities.

It was hard to tell the depth of Zone Eleven’s commitment to roleplay from Alana; she was simply too no-nonsense to give them very much attention at all. But Randidly wanted to determine whether they were dangerously committed, or simply enthusiastically trying to make the best of a bad situation.

Randidly wasn’t sure what to think about Zone Seven. But he did know that assuming that Obyrn Ironfist managed to settle in those tumultuous mountains, it would place this capable enough force of ogres at the flank of these two unknown Zones. And it would also act as a stopper to prevent other ogres from slipping through.

Because that was the true danger of the Ogre world, Randidly knew. It wasn’t this first wave that lucked upon the portal. It was the old things that waited within, capable of giving him a run for his money when they moved. Likely, these foes would be near one hundred and have images a damn sight better than Obyrn.

“Well…” Obyrn finally grunted. He turned to exchange a meaningful glance with Duual, whose central and right head remained impassive. The left head was clearly gleeful, as though they had pulled a fast one on Randidly and his group. “In exchange for you cedeing these mountains to I, Obyrn Myyr Ironfist, for seven generations, we will consider ourselves an ally of the city-state Donnyton and allow their traders safe passage. In addition, we will maintain control over the portal to our world and control movement between the worlds.”

It showed some of Obyrn’s own worry about other forces from his world that it was he, not Randidly, that insisted he control and have responsibility for that duty. Perhaps he didn’t trust the humans enough to do the job, but Randidly didn’t mind. That was a rather large commitment of Donnyton’s forces that they would no longer need.

There was a small chance of Obyrn betraying this world for his own, but even if Donnyton had guarded the portal, that could have happened. It was a risk, but one Randidly was willing to take, considering Obyrn’s rather direct personality.

The two shook hands. Randidly was honestly somewhat amused by how small his own hand appeared in the ogres large and calloused paw. Afterward, Obyrn took a sharp step backward and looked down at Randidly. “It is clear you have fought in many battles. That woman Alana, too.”

When the ogre didn’t say any more, Randidly nodded sadly. “It is true. It seems like… no matter what I do I cannot find peace. Perhaps… the same is true for you?”

A dark look passed across Obyrn’s face. “I fear the trials that I face differ from yours. Well met, Ghosthound. I hope that this agreement means that we will share a long and beneficial friendship.”

Then he turned and left.

Helen, who had been rather silent for the whole of the meeting, finally spoke up. “When he says it like that… doesn’t it almost seem like the opposite is going to happen?”