Pastor's Tantra

Aiwass was a little surprised to see little Rabbih walking out with him.

He followed Aiwass obediently and silently, looking a little cautious.

Aiwass turned around and said, "Aren't you going to stay with your grandfather?"

"Not yet."

"Why? It's rare to find him back... Isn't that why you came to the Theocracy for this purpose?"

"Yes."

Little Rabbih had a serious face and spoke in Avalonian, which he was not very proficient in. "But grandpa has been rescued. He is safe. I want to thank my benefactor. This is a more important thing."

As he spoke, he glanced at Aiwass and Sherlock with some concern, and emphasized: "Grandpa is not...a particularly cruel person."

The young troll wizard tried to defend his grandfather.

Aiwass didn't say anything, he just smiled and was noncommittal.

Sherlock sneered: "Then can you tell me why he gave priority to cursing Zumaidi? Is it because Zumaidi is a curse master?"

"Yes...it's good that you understand."

The young troll wizard replied without hesitation: "The cursers are all descendants of sinners. Because filthy things are more poisonous."

Sherlock raised his head and met his gaze.

He did not see any shame or remorse in the clear eyes of the little rabbih.

At least that's what the trolls really think.

This made what Sherlock originally wanted to say stuck in his throat, and he was a little stuck for a while.

Aiwass reached out and patted Sherlock on the shoulder, pulling his forward body back casually: "Every place has its own folk customs and traditions. Maybe we can't understand them, but at least we have to respect them.

"The status of curse masters is the lowest in the southern continent. Wizards can also use curses, but curse masters cannot use rituals."

Wizard is another translation of Conjurer, which is what people tend to call them in the South. The Curse Master is a name from the East. This is also the reason why the advanced profession of the Conjuration Mage is called the Grand Wizard.

"You are wise and prophetic. Dear Archbishop."

Little Rabbih made some strange gestures with his hands in front of him, and then bowed deeply: "Avalon is too developed, so I don't understand. Our tribe is very backward. There are very few smart people, and they are all guided by wizards.

"Curse masters are all sinners. They violated the [taboo], or killed or cannibalized people. There were also hostile tribes, and we defeated them. [Sin] will flow in their blood until the third generation. Their smell is bad. , wild beasts can smell their [sins], they can’t be hunters, no one needs them..."

Little Rabbih tried to explain.

He was dancing around and his body language was unusually rich.

But even so, there are still some words that he cannot say in Avalonian and can only use Elvish instead.

Fortunately, both Aiwass and Sherlock are proficient in Elvish and can understand what he means.

That is to say, Lily is still obviously a bit stiff - her current level of Elvish is roughly equivalent to the foreign language level of a freshman who can barely pass CET-4. Daily reading is no problem, but high-speed conversations or some rare words may cause confusion.

Obviously, little Rabbih is much more proficient in the Elvish language than the Avalonian language. As a young troll who is only eighteen years old, he even masters two foreign languages ​​- this level of intelligence is already better than that of many Avalonians.

But out of respect for the three Aiwass, he still chose to speak in Avalonian as much as possible in front of Aiwass.

Sherlock also realized the courtesy and sincerity of the other party.

He sighed, raised his hand and patted the other party's shoulder. The little Rabbih also bent down very wisely and humbly, allowing Shylock to touch his shoulder without stepping on his feet.

"I know you're a good boy, Rabih..."

Sherlock patted his shoulder and said slowly: "But you don't have to care too much about our opinions and attitudes towards you. Unless you have something else to say to us; or unless we meet again in the future. reason."

Although he was one centimeter taller than Aiwass...but in front of Rabich, who was nearly three meters tall and whose arm muscles were thicker than Aiwass's thighs, he was still as young as a thin child.

"gentlemen."

Little Rabbih did not remember Shylock's name, so he could only call him sir: "I respect the Avalonians very much, because you are the same as the elves. You are better than the Star Antimony people or the Iris people. The worst ones are those in white robes.”

"It seems that the Iris Kingdom doesn't allow the sale of trolls, right?"

Sherlock asked.

He was very interested in this - this is extremely rare first-hand information, which is far more accurate than reading books or papers. As the heir to a troll tribe, a smart troll who mastered many foreign languages ​​at a young age, the information he provided personally was far more accurate than those research reports written by mere conjecture and reasoning.

Hearing this, little Rabbih immediately became serious and even a little excited - he was not so excited when he mentioned those "white-robed men": "The Iris people will come to us to trade with us. But all transactions , it’s all unfair! It’s all unfair! Just like goblins – worse than goblins!”

"Elaborate."

Sherlock became interested and even took out his notebook from his arms: "What are the specific unfairnesses?"

"They exchanged soap, cloth, salt, wine, and us for herbs. There were also corn, cocoa, and coffee. Some monster tooth skins and meat. But I know that the price is not right!"

Little Rabbih gave an example: "One barrel of wine is exchanged for five carts of coffee; one cart of salt is exchanged for one cart of ivory!"

Sherlock frowned, writing and drawing.

He quickly calculated the price, and then looked at Aiwass in surprise and almost awe.

"How many?"

Seeing his reaction, Aiwass leaned over and asked in a low voice.

"At least fifty times the profit, it's so scary," Sherlock whispered in Aiwass's ear, "No wonder... Iris has been squeezed like this by the star antimony, and it can still persist. It turns out they are the richest.”

Then Sherlock raised his head: "Do the goblins also have the same price?"

"Goblins...fewer."

After the little Rabbih finished speaking, he realized that his description was not very accurate, so he added: "The Iris people are worse."

In other words, the profits of goblins are lower than those of iris people.

"Then why don't you trade with the goblins?"

Sherlock asked this smoothly.

But as soon as he asked, he knew that he had said something stupid - why not trade with the goblins? That couldn't be simpler, because the goblins have long deceived, robbed and sold the trolls, and even squeezed the trolls' power back into the depths of the rainforest. The trolls have a deep hatred for the goblins.

Precisely because the Iris people would not buy troll slaves, their reputation with the trolls was actually very high. Many trolls are vying to do business with them. In fact, they hope that the Iris people will expand their power in the southern continent. Best to get the Starbeasts, Parthians, and Goblins out.

...I didn’t expect that the iris people would one day be better at business than the goblins.

Aiwass also felt a little emotional.

And after hearing this, Aiwass also understood what little Rabbih meant: "Do you want to... cooperate with the Avalonians?"

"Avalonians are just the best."

Little Rabich said firmly: "It's almost the same as the elves! There are also restrictions from the elves... and the elves are the fairest."

There's nothing wrong with the judgment of the elves... but you think too much of Avalon, kid.

Aiwass said in his heart, Sherlock's expression was also a little strange.

But little Rabbih really got the rightful owner.

Aiwass is now the president of Lloyd's, and he really has the final say.

Originally, Avalon was limited by the influence of the elves and its maintenance of the authoritarian path, and refused to do business with foreign races. Now that this ban has been lifted by Isabel, the goblins have come ashore to build the railway... Trading with trolls is no longer a problem.

"The Warsong Tribe, right?"

"The Beast Song Tribe."

Little Rabbih corrected.

"Okay, Beast Song Tribe - where are you in the southern continent?"

Aiwass said with a smile: "Although it may not look like it, I am Avalon's recognized business leader, minister regardless of ministry, knight of the inner circle of the Round Table, Queen Isabel's first confidant, president of Lloyd's society, and founder of the family. The future owner of 'Moriarty' and the successor of the Moriarty Group."

"Still the future Prince of Avalon."

Sherlock nodded and added.

He put his right hand on his chest and said with some pride, some pride, and some gritted teeth: "And I am his deputy."

"He's the secretary and the assistant secretary."

"You can communicate directly with him," Aiwass emphasized.

"oh!"

Little Rabbi He's eyes suddenly lit up.

He knelt directly on the ground, stretched out his huge and fat hands and shook hands with Sherlock very sincerely: "Thank you very much! Welcome! Looking forward to it! Please come to us, distinguished guest.

"We are one of the largest tribes. Or the top three, or the top five. In the center... When your people come, report my name directly. Rabbih of the Beast Song Tribe, my Guests. Those small tribes dare not stop you."

Sherlock turned back and glared at Aiwass.

——You like to throw such troublesome things to me, right?

Aiwass responded with his eyes: How about giving it to your brother?

--also.

Sherlock guessed what Aiwass wanted to say.

He whispered to little Rabbih: "I will write to Avalon when I get back and ask the Privy Councilor to contact you directly... You should know the Privy Councilor, right?"

"Oh, I know! Chief hunter, or high priest!"

Little Rabbih nodded repeatedly and revealed his two identities after the tribal leader: "The high priest is my grandfather! He taught me everything I know!"