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A Dragon against the Whole World-Chapter 134 - 131: Even Monsters Have to Pay Taxes
The drizzling rain continued, and for the third time, Brent wiped the mud splattered on his face, his expensive calfskin boots already stained with mud and water.
This tax collector of the Lothern Federation’s Viscount complained bitterly, "Damn wilderness... even the air smells like beast dung!"
Behind him, five warriors disguised as caravan guards had their armor linings thoroughly soaked by the rain.
"Hurry up!"
"If we ruin the gifts for those beasts, hehe, none of us will end well."
He coldly surveyed the outline of the wilderness through the rain.
The wooden boxes loaded on the cart were not trading goods at all, but rather covered with a Golden Lion Fire Seal ’Scale Earth Rift Taxation Order’ — his master, Viscount Ironthorn, was eager to use this trade route’s taxes to fill financial deficits.
The Lothern Federation is a union composed of numerous duchies and kingdoms.
The Raymond Duchy, mainly populated by human citizens, is one of them.
And Viscount Ironthorn is a noble lord of the Raymond Duchy, renowned for the abundant Iron Thorns Magical Plant produced in his territory.
The Scale Earth Rift, a branch trade route located in the Sel Wilderness, was developed by his family and allocated to him during his coming-of-age ceremony.
Initially, Viscount Ironthorn paid little attention to this branch and neglected it.
But in recent years, as his lifestyle grew increasingly lavish, and his children’s lifestyle followed suit, the industries under his command gradually could not sustain the consumption.
Viscount Ironthorn spent some time carefully examining the status of all the industries under him.
Then he unexpectedly discovered that the Scale Earth Rift, a trade route branch he did not value, was unexpectedly prosperous, with numerous caravans coming and going, full of profit.
So he continued to send people to investigate, having his subordinates disguise themselves as merchants to operate on the Scale Earth Rift.
As the information was gathered, he uncovered the truth.
It turned out that an unknown secret leader had unified the monster race clans around the Scale Earth Rift, allowing it to gradually develop under his governance and control.
Knowing the truth, Viscount Ironthorn faced two choices.
One was to wage war, eradicate the increasingly powerful monster race clans, and show the merchants who the true master of the Scale Earth Rift was.
The second was to pretend he hadn’t seen anything, allow the secret leader to continue governing the Scale Earth Rift, enabling it to prosper further, while he could earn money by extracting tolls from the passing caravans.
Viscount Ironthorn chose the second.
He discovered this two years ago and turned a blind eye, letting the monster race control the Scale Earth Rift for an entire year.
This was also the best method.
A slow and sustainable growth.
However.
Because his most favored eldest son was obsessed with magic and had great talent.
At the same time, a top magic academy of the Human Empire, Holden, opened study abroad admissions.
To send his eldest son to the empire’s magic academy for advanced studies amid immense financial pressure and expectations for his children, Viscount Ironthorn began to exploit his industries, even selling off many of them.
The Scale Earth Rift appeared in his sights again.
After a year’s slow returns, he decided to extract from the monsters, to tax the monster race clans.
The route tax stipulated by the Lothern Federation had an upper limit, and although there were many passing caravans, it couldn’t bring much wealth to Viscount Ironthorn in the short term, but the monster race clans were different; theoretically, he could take all the wealth they held, and there would be no legal protection for them.
Using his connections and resources,
Upon confirming that the secret leader of the Scale Earth Rift was unrelated to the Lothern Federation and had no significant background, Viscount Ironthorn sent out the tax collector, preparing to negotiate with the monsters first.
It would be best if the negotiations succeeded.
If they failed, the trade route’s guard troops were not easy to mobilize, but with many years as a Viscount, he had his own private armed forces.
Let those ignorant and backward monsters feel the iron fist from the civilized world, also a good option.
As for the secret leader who unified the monster race clans,
Viscount Ironthorn did not regard him seriously.
Dare not stand at the forefront, indicating the wings were not fully developed, if it was a very powerful monster, it would be simpler, he could directly apply to the Lothern Federation for military suppression.
Dark lead clouds covered the ground, and the air was gloomy.
Brent and his party sat in a disguised cargo cart, gradually arriving on the Scale Earth Rift, then slowly drove for about half an hour along the road when they spotted a camp tent at the roadside.
The tax collector squinted slightly and waved his hand to let the convoy approach.
When the War Lizardfolk leader lifted the beast hide tent, Brent almost stepped back from the stench.
This creature, standing three meters tall with scales and fangs, scrutinized him with amber vertical pupils, its forked tongue hissing, "New face?"
Though clearly a monster, it spoke the common language quite fluently, pronouncing each word accurately. Even though there was a slight lisp, it was clear and not at all muddled.
Five human warriors stood silently behind.
The Tax Collector puffed out his chest, showing not the slightest fear of the monster.
He introduced himself loudly and proudly: "The person standing before you is named Brent, the Tax Collector of Viscount Ironthorn."
The monsters looked at each other, unresponsive.
Tax Collector? They didn’t understand this term.
Feeling ignored, Brent was somewhat embarrassed. As a Tax Collector, he was used to obsequious smiles from humans, never this kind of disregard.
He suppressed his anger, gave a slight huff, and explained again.
"The road beneath your feet belongs to Viscount Ironthorn."
"All passing caravans must pay road tax to Viscount Ironthorn."
Pausing for a moment, the Tax Collector continued in a deep voice, "And you, the monsters profiting from trade on this road, must also offer wealth to Viscount Ironthorn!"
His tone was firm.
But the War Lizardfolk’s tail was firmer, striking the Tax Collector in the chest and sending him flying like a ragdoll into the mud, covered in filth.
The War Lizardfolk leader did not understand terms like road tax.
But being sent here to trade with caravans proved it was not brainless.
It understood the Tax Collector’s implication—robbery!
If not for the Iron Dragon Governor’s strict orders not to kill indiscriminately, it would have been a spear through the human’s heart, not a tail whip.
"You, you all!"
The Tax Collector staggered to his feet, his face pale.
Only now did the warriors come to their senses.
Lacking experience dealing with monsters, they didn’t expect these War Lizardfolk to attack so readily. Now they responded, immediately forming a protective stance around the Tax Collector.
"Ignorant, savage monsters! Do you wish to die?!"
The Tax Collector coughed up blood and roared.
With his roar, two red glows appeared on the tarp covering the cart, like a pair of eyes.
Tear! The tarp was ripped to shreds.
A six-meter-tall humanoid metal creation, forged entirely from steel, appeared in the wind and rain, water shattering on its cold steel body.
It drew a giant steel sword from its back, its entire body glowing with runes, and red light shone from its eyes, sweeping over the War Lizardfolk.
The Alchemy Golem—Fearless.
The true guard of the Tax Collector on this journey.
The massive, heavy body of Fearless moved forward, taking a position at the front.
All the War Lizardfolk felt the danger, their backs tense, tongues flicking and hissing, while in deeper shadows, away from the tent, some large figures gradually emerged.
Armored, heavily-equipped Ogres wielding weapons came into the Tax Collector’s view.
The red glow in Fearless’s eyes grew ever more intense, as Ogres and War Lizardfolk gripped their weapons tight.
The Tax Collector took a deep breath, suppressing his anger.
These damned monsters, they know nothing of etiquette! Rude, savage, damned!
However, they couldn’t just start a battle.
The Viscount hoped for a resolution through negotiation, avoiding bloodshed—they were not monsters, needing only to tear off the facade and resort to violence as a last resort.
The Tax Collector looked at the War Lizardfolk leader who had injured him, speaking coldly: "Bring someone with actual authority, a higher leader here, you stupid vile creature, you have no idea what you’re doing! You can’t bear the responsibility for this!"
The War Lizardfolk leader, insulted, flashes of violence in its eyes.
These creatures have always been dark and evil, warlike and fierce, not friendly.
But seeing the Steel Giant standing in the rain, and recalling certain faction rules, it had to suppress its murderous intent.
Bringing an Alchemy Golem here, these people were unusual, beyond its handling scope.
The War Lizardfolk leader used a Communication Stone to contact the higher ranks.
Cold rain fell from the sky, as humans, monsters, and steel creations... all silently waited in the rain.







