Chapter 46 - 46 43 Picking Up Trash Can Lead to Wealth_1

46: Chapter 43 Picking Up Trash Can Lead to Wealth_1 46: Chapter 43 Picking Up Trash Can Lead to Wealth_1 They had been exploited by this guy for over a year now, and several of their tribe had been devoured by him. To say they bore no grudge against him was impossible. Especially Gos, every interaction with him was fraught with dread, fearing that he would bite off his head as a snack, just like he did with the previous Blackwell Leader. Now that the tables had turned and he was in their hands, it was natural to want to get some payback, crush him, crush him, crush him. The Gnoll previously singled out by Gos, seeing that Gos was fine, immediately sprang into action, volunteering to run over, grab a horse brush, and join in the grand endeavor of scrubbing. Regardless of whether they were Goblins or Gnolls, these small humanoid races were oppressed by larger creatures most of the time, accumulating a great deal of dissatisfaction deep in their hearts. Given the chance, they thoroughly enjoyed bullying larger creatures, venting years of accumulated hatred and malice. Even if the Ogres were naturally thick-skinned and tough, the sensation of being scrubbed with the hard pig hair of a horse brush was absolutely uncomfortable. Likely, any other time, the Ogre would have been furious, squashing the three tiny pests that hopped around like fleas. But now, the Ogre could only plunge his head into the icy river water, making his mind clearer to avoid doing something foolish. He did not wish to experience that feeling of being unable to live yet unable to die. Searᴄh the Nôvel(F)ire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Anna’s previous hair-removal side effect of her Healing Divine Art made this bathing task much easier. Even so, they scrubbed for the better part of the day. When the Ogre emerged again, his skin was red from scrubbing, and the scent on his body was significantly lighter. The smell on his body wasn’t formed in a day and naturally couldn’t be dispelled in a day, but the absence of various parasites squirming in and out of his torn animal hide was already a significant improvement. The large hemp sack the Ogre had carried was also dragged over by the other Gnolls and presented to Gaven. Upon opening it, the stench nearly made Gaven fall over. It was practically a large trash bag into which the Ogre stuffed whatever he found. Half a deer, a dozen broken Goblin Daggers, a few chunks of substandard cast iron, and several shiny Crystals. The most valuable item was probably a fist-sized gold ore raw stone. For Gaven, these things were of little interest, including that gold ore raw stone. What truly caught his attention were those Crystals. Gaven waved to the Ogre, who immediately scampered over and half-crouched before him—not that he was polite but instinctively protecting his Achille’s heel. Gaven showed him the cleaned Crystals and asked, “Where did these come from?” The Ogre scratched his bald head, trying hard to remember, and said uncertainly, “Should be… from one of those Goblin Tribes ahead, I think. Which one exactly, I don’t remember. Anyway, they weren’t in there when I left.” “What about your home? Do you have more?” Gaven knew it was pointless to inquire further; this fellow looked like he wasn’t too bright. Ogres were famously dumb, and this guy was probably considered smart among Ogres, likely a tactic he devised from squeezing other intelligent beings, which must be related to his mixed blood. The moment Gaven saw him, he knew the creature’s bloodline wasn’t pure, possibly mixed with Orc or Goblin. His skin being a bit green was one thing, but it was mainly his stature, shorter and leaner than a purebred Ogre. Purebred Ogres usually stood nearly three meters tall. This guy was only about two and a half meters, but standing among Gnolls—who averaged about one meter in height—made him a super Giant. “Home?” The concept clearly did not exist in Roar’s mind. “Cave, the place where you live, where you keep your things.” “Don’t remember,” the Half-Ogre scratched his bald head again, suddenly realizing how light it felt; he was somewhat unused to it and kept sensing a chill. “Lead us there.” Gaven had originally not been too interested in the half-ogre’s junk pile and had planned to have Gos and a couple of gnolls take the opportunity to clean it up. A robber who exploited gnolls and goblins for loot couldn’t possibly have anything of real value. But those few crystal stones had changed his mind; he decided to make the trip himself—there might actually be treasures to be found in the pile of junk. Those crystals were called Spirit Crystal Stones. In the hands of ordinary people, their value wasn’t significant; they were just better looking stones that could, at most, be made into jewelry but wouldn’t fetch a high price. However, in the hands of professionals like psychic sorcerers, their value was substantial. Their affinity for spiritual energy allowed them to store psychic energy. If imbued with psychic energy, they became a Spirit Container; if imbued with psychic skills, they transformed into Psychic Stones. The former could replenish psychic energy for a psychic sorcerer like Gaven, and the latter could release the psychic ability contained within without any consumption, just like a magic scroll. Another use was for the creation of Spirit Crystal Servants, whose functionality was identical to the arcane familiars of mages. Gaven, with his specialty in affinity for spirit crystal as a psychic sorcerer, had wanted to create Spirit Crystal Servants, but he had never obtained enough spirit crystals to do so. Now that he saw the opportunity to get a lot of spirit crystals, how could Gaven let it pass? The cave of the half-ogre Roar was not close to Blackwell, twisting and winding for nearly ten kilometers. It was a good thing that Roar had decent memory for routes. As a local tyrant of the area, he usually harassed others. No one dared to provoke him. With him leading the way, they encountered no trouble. The mountain path was difficult to navigate, and with Gaven rushing a cart, the journey became even more troublesome. Fortunately, the half-ogre’s immense strength, combined with horse power, was enough to pull it through. By the time they were a hundred meters away from the half-ogre’s cave, Gaven knew they had arrived. The smell was overwhelmingly strong and potent, going straight to the head. Gos and his group of gnolls were overwhelmed to the point of rolling their eyes back. Gaven, on the other hand, didn’t even blink. Compared to the stench of piled-up corpses in June heat, this was nothing. He had guessed correctly; sifting through the half-ogre’s cave was indeed treasure hunting in a garbage heap. There were not only scraps of copper and iron pilfered from the goblins and gnolls, but also the everyday waste of the half-ogre, including various bone fragments and dung spread all over the place. Luckily he had the foresight to bring a small squad of gnolls. They naturally took on the dirty work, while Gaven only had to manage the inventory. After digging through enough trash, it was possible to find treasures. The trash heap of the half-ogre Roar had some age to it, accumulating since the time of his mother. However, the things her mother had collected accounted for less than a tenth because she didn’t have the brains he did; she relied solely on brute strength to loot from other races. Although her pile of garbage was small, the treasures unearthed were more than what Roar had, partly because many of them were left by adventurers who had come to subdue his mother. Despite being damaged and neglected over time, they were still better than most tributes Roar collected from goblins and gnolls. Even if it was just old copper and iron scraps, Gaven didn’t plan on letting them go now that he was there. Their value when refined was still present, and higher than most raw ore. The spirit crystals that Gaven valued the most were mostly collected by the half-ogre Roar, yet this tasteless brute, with his unique aesthetic view. To most intelligent beings, these pretty little things were regarded as useless trash in his eyes. He brought them back purely out of greed and because they were small and didn’t take up much space. Once home, he dumped them into his lair’s storage pile along with other rubbish. This made collecting them quite difficult for Gaven and his team, as if sifting through sand, they had to search through the half-ogre’s trash pile thoroughly inside and out.