Rebirth of the Viking King

Chapter 540 58 Poisonous Scorpion Tribe (6)

Opening a store in Lunt Oasis is definitely not as good as transporting goods to Memphis City and trading directly with large chambers of commerce.

Akhenaten, who is over 60 years old, naturally understands such a simple truth.

But an unavoidable problem is the danger hidden in this journey.

The magic essence tempered by the poison masters is the purest spiritual essence in the world.

Even if this kind of product is sealed in a glass vessel, the spiritual energy it emits will still cause a fatal attraction to the remaining ancient monsters in the black desert.

If it is just a monster, that's it. If a sleeping ancient god wakes up, it will be a disaster to meet him.

Because of this, if the young villagers in the Poisonous Scorpion tribe need to enter the city of Memphis to buy daily necessities, they only dare to carry a few bottles with them. If they bring too many, they will have a high probability of being attacked.

The only ones who dare to carry large amounts of magic spirits across the desert are this group of desperate horse caravan traders.

"Brother, can you tell me where all the young people in the village have gone?"

Facing his old friends, Lao Hash no longer kept secrets and spoke out his questions straight to the point.

"Haha, what else could be the reason? There is only one way to quickly eliminate the population, and that is to launch a war!"

“Stumped again”

"No." Akhenaten shook his head slightly. He stood up, took out a plate of exquisite porcelain from under the table, grabbed a handful of tea leaves and threw it into the teapot.

"'High Priest Ament' has continuously mobilized a large number of manpower from us in recent years. In recent months, almost all the young laborers in the village have been transferred to Mbia Oasis. "

"It is said that the intruders this time are those niggas south of the desert!"

Hearing these words, Old Harsh frowned subconsciously.

After such a long stalemate, anyone with a discerning eye can see that the Arab Empire, which is nearly the largest in the world in terms of land area, has given up its pursuit of the free people in the desert.

True, they were not subject to the governor's rule.

But what if we kill them all? The Empire would be left with nothing but an empty desert as far as the eye can see, and at the same time, all the scarce commodities produced by the temple priests and free folk would be lost forever.

Not only in Constantinople, but also in Chang'an of the Tang Dynasty and in the holy city of Jerusalem, many dignitaries were extremely dependent on the goods in their hands.

Thus, a fragile balance had been struck in a sense between the freedmen and the Arab rulers. As long as they don't do anything too outrageous, the military will just turn a blind eye to their existence.

The peddlers continue to carry out the "holy war" to drive out heretics, which is of no great benefit to anyone.

Under this circumstance, the city of Memphis, which was originally the "war frontline", gradually turned into a stable rear area for the free people. The enemies they often had to face turned into the followers of the evil god who flickered from the other side of the Black Desert. .

**

The area south of the Black Desert has long been shrouded in mystery for the inhabitants of the Mediterranean.

According to records in ancient books, thousands of years ago, both sides of the Nile River were vast fields with rich water and grass. This strong river not only nourishes the people on both sides, but also serves as a channel connecting the north and the south.

The group of black-skinned natives south of the Black Desert, whose bodies are as black as carbon, can go all the way north along the river, enter the Kingdom of Egypt, or even come to seek a new life near the Mediterranean Sea.

However, in recent hundreds of years, the ancient Egyptian kingdom has been infinitely close to decline. The lack of sufficient population caused the fields and forests on both sides of the Nile to disappear rapidly. By AD810, most of the river had turned into a dry riverbed.

After losing this vital traveling road, the black-skinned aborigines south of the Black Desert could only cross this vast desert all the way north.

Over time, the black-skinned aborigines have almost disappeared in this era.

With the north-south communication completely cut off, no one knows what kind of people live south of the Black Desert, how many people they have, and they are divided into several kingdoms.

The only people who can deal with this group of people are the free people living in seclusion in the desert.

Under normal circumstances, freedmen were reluctant to mention to outsiders this group of black people wandering on the edge of the desert.

But old Hash knows

During several psychedelic conversations after drinking scorpion venom, he vaguely heard the old poison master mention that the vast grasslands and primeval jungles south of the Black Desert were densely populated with terrifying evil gods that survived from ancient times.

The Chosen Ones from the Temples of Anubis and Amun often capture their hunters in the southern deserts. Relying on severe torture, the free people discovered that these black-skinned pagans had no culture, no writing, and even their language was extremely simple.

However, the divine power that this group of people can display is extremely diverse.

Free people usually call this group of similar people who are all completely black as "crazy warlocks". Compared with the civilized society formed by the Mediterranean Sea, the East-West Continental Bridge, and the Eastern Land and the Tang Dynasty, their living conditions are the same as those of the human ancestors who just left the country ten thousand years ago. There is not much difference between those who survived the "Great Flood".

Mortals are ignorant and blindly believing, so they are easily bewitched by evil gods.

There is only chaos and darkness in that land.

"Brother Akhenaten, have you seen those invaders with your own eyes?"

The free man blinked his eyes and shook his head slightly.

Old Harsh narrowed his eyes, thoughtfully.

Everything that happened before him once again reminded him of the red soil and black leaves in his pocket when he just picked up Loki.

It's a pity that Loki lost all his memory.

Otherwise, he must know exactly what is happening on this continent.

"My old friend, I heard that you brought a lot of goods this time?"

Old Harsh nodded.

"If you plan to continue walking south, you might as well visit our high priest first. There are still the last group of young people in the Great Pyramid who are ready to be sent to the Mbia Oasis."

"This is the last group of children in the tribe. According to the messenger, the number of black ghosts entering the desert this time is huge, and they seem to have some kind of ulterior secret."

If he asks, tell me that you heard it from me.

I, Akhenaten, can guarantee with my life that you are my friend of the Scorpion Tribe. We will definitely be able to bring our people safely to the Mbia Oasis. "

The task of "helping free people deliver people" involves no money and a waste of food, but no one in the caravan traveling on this route would refuse. Because this is a rare way to directly communicate with high-level priests.

In this desert, the high-ranking priest is the emperor who controls one area. Any resources revealed through their fingers can make the caravan a lot of money.

After patting his old friend's shoulder hard, Old Hash took out a bag of exquisitely packaged chocolates from his arms.

This magical candy from the southern continent was an extremely valuable luxury item even in the Byzantine Empire. Every time he walks on this route, he will buy a pack and give it to his friends.

Money is fleeting.

The subordinate might die one day.

In Constantinople, the merchants were harmonious on the surface, but which one of them didn’t wear a mask when going out to meet people all day long?

In a sense, these simple friends living deep in the desert are his most precious wealth accumulated over the years.