Chương 590: Chapter 589: The Economy of War

The journey north from Grey-Water Valley was leisurely. There was no immediate crisis. The rift had been sealed, the dead mourned and the administrative machinery of the High Council had taken over the logistics of registering "The Crab Claws." Li Yu had been assured by High Elder Valda's scribes that the paperwork would be done within a day. This lack of urgency allowed Li Yu and Krell to truly observe the continent they had come to.

The Frostbound Dominion was not a place of scenic beauty, at least not in the traditional sense. It was a land of brutal but functional majesty. The trees were thick-barked and stubborn. The mountains were jagged teeth that bit into the grey sky. And the cities were not centers of commerce or art but bastions of survival and training. They arrived at Fortress Oakhaven three days later. Despite the name, there were very few oaks. It was one of the largest cities in the southern region of the continent.

It was acting as a primary staging ground for supplies heading in all directions but mainly north. The city walls were high and constructed of dark basalt reinforced with shimmering containment runes. There were no decorative carvings. No statues of poets or philosophers. The only decorations were the scarred battlements and the heavy ballistae mounted every twenty meters. They operated off of spirit stones and fired off a beam of energy as thick as tree trunks. They were pointed eternally at the sky.

"It smells like sweat," Krell commented as they passed through the massive iron gates.

"And cheap steel."

"I think you mean discipline," Li Yu corrected while looking around. The streets of Oakhaven were wide and paved with crushed gravel to prevent slipping in the ice. But it was the people who drew Li Yu's attention. In the Eastern and Southern continents, a city street was generally a place of leisure. People walked, chatted, drank tea and shopped for things. Here, the streets were a training ground. Li Yu stopped to watch a group of cultivators jogging in formation down the main avenue.

They weren't wearing light robes; they were decked in full armor. They were carrying heavy packs filled with dense rocks. They didn't chant scriptures; they counted cadence, their breath misting in the cold air like the exhaust of a steam engine.

"One-two! The Wall holds!"

"Three-four! The rifts folds!" Even the civilians seemed harder. A baker was kneading dough with forearms that looked like they could strangle a bear. A merchant arguing over the price of grain was doing so with a hand resting on the hilt of a dagger but no one even cared. But the most telling sight was in the town square. Usually a town square would have a fountain or a garden. Oakhaven had a sparring ring. It was a raised stone platform currently occupied by two men shirtless in the freezing wind.

They were grappling with brutal intensity. A crowd had gathered, not to bet or cheer wildly, but to critique.

"His footing is wide," an old woman with a basket of turnips muttered to her neighbor.

"He'll lose balance if he takes a hit to the knee."

"Aye," the neighbor agreed.

"But he's got good core strength. Look at how he absorbs the impact." The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Li Yu moved past them as his eyes were drifting to a nearby alleyway. A group of children, none older than ten, were playing. But they weren't playing tag or hide-and-seek. One boy stood atop a pile of crates and was holding a wooden shield. Five other children were rushing him, growling and clawing like demons.

"Hold the Breach!" the boy on the crates yelled as he was bashing one of his attackers with the shield.

"Don't let the enemies through!"

"Kill the Guardian!" the attackers shrieked back as they were swarming his legs. It was violent. It was rough. One of the 'demons' scraped his knee on the cobblestones and started to cry. The game stopped. The boy on the crates jumped down. He didn't mock the crying child. He walked over, looked at the scrape and pulled a strip of cloth from his pocket.

"Wrap it tight," the boy commanded, his voice mimicking the gruff tone of a sergeant.

"Pain is information. Is the leg broken?"

"No," the crying child sniffled as he was wiping his nose.

"Then stand up," the leader said, offering a hand.

"The rift is still open." The crying child took the hand, gritted his teeth and nodded. The game resumed instantly. Li Yu watched them for a long moment, a strange warmth filling his chest. Then a coldness washed over it. They were like this because of their circumstances. Those rifts created people like this.

"They start young," Krell noted but his voice was devoid of its usual mockery.

"They have to," Li Yu said softly.

"This land doesn't forgive weakness. But look at them, Krell. They aren't cruel to one another. They are preparing each other. It is a harsh kindness." They continued deeper into the city. The noise of industry grew louder. The ringing of hammers, the hiss of steam and the roar of bellows.

"Metal," Krell lite up. He stopped in the middle of the street. He turned his shrouded head toward the eastern district where black smoke billowed into the sky.

"I smell steel. And... star-metal?"

"You want to go look," Li Yu stated instead of questioned.

"I need to see what passes for craftsmanship here," Krell admitted.

"Maybe I'll be able to learn a thing or two."

"Go," Li Yu nodded.

"We are in no rush. Meet me at the central market once you are done." Krell didn't hesitate. He rumbled a goodbye and lumbered off toward the smog-choked Smithing District. The crowd parting somewhat nervously around his massive, foggy form. Li Yu adjusted his grey cloak and turned toward the commercial district. The Oakhaven Grand Market The market was a sprawling labyrinth of tents and wooden stalls. The market here smelled of cured leather, dried meat and medicinal herbs.

Li Yu walked through the rows while his eyes were scanning the goods. There were weapons everywhere. Swords, spears and axes. There were piles of thick furs. Frost-Bear, Winter-Wolf, Ice-Drake. There were crates of root vegetables and barrels of salted fish. And there were exchange boards. Almost every major stall had a small slate board listing prices. And just like at the ceremony, the disparity was glaring. Many wanted things like beast cores, herbs, artifacts and pills.

The thing they wanted to sell the most of were demonic cores. Li Yu found an empty spot near the edge of the alchemist's row. He didn't have a booth so he simply pulled a heavy rug from his storage ring and laid it out on the frozen ground. He sat down and from his storage ring, he began to pull out inventory. Over his years of travel and battles he had looted countless enemies. He had stripped sect vaults, looted bandits and claimed the spoils of war. His ring was filled with things that he couldn't use.

Since he didn't have the Golden Shell Guild with him on the White Tiger Continent, he couldn't get rid of things he didn't need for spirit stones and resources he could use. Now seemed like a good as any to trade all those items away for demonic cores. He set out a pile of weapons. Swords, sabers, daggers and much more. Most of them were forged from decent steel and glowing with faint enchantments. He dumped out a sack of armor pieces. Chest plates, guards, and helmets clattered onto the rug.

Next came the random assortment of natural treasures. Boxes of dried herbs, chunks of ore and lower grade pills that weren't that effective for him anymore. He took out beast hides, bones, claws and other materials that were gathered for him after the fighting. It was a garage sale of a high-level cultivator.