Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God-Chapter 148 - 115: Santarin Association Emerges_1

"Then I’ll go out and meet him; if he’s very aggressive, it suggests he has a strong backing, probably a large trading group," Gaven said to Bede, making polite conversation.

This matter was not good news for the newly established Thousand Chief Commerce Assembly, yet it was a positive development for Blackwell, as it meant they would have more options.

Once competition with the Thousand Chief Commerce Assembly started, Blackwell would stand to gain even more benefits.

"You go ahead, I won’t be going out," Bede said, preferring not to meet with his future competitor.

This matter had indeed sounded a warning bell for him; he must hasten his steps. Blackwell, this piece of fat flesh, must not be snatched by anyone else, no matter what.

To tie down the other party, sentiments and such were all inconsequential; the most important thing was still interests.

The lofty attitude of the new merchant was palpable to Gaven, even through a door.

It seemed as if their presence here was a tremendous honor for Gaven and his people.

The newcomer was a young man, only in his twenties or not quite thirty, with handsome features, but his habit of looking down his nose at people greatly undermined his image.

Even when Gaven entered, the man remained coolly seated, his arrogance unabated as he said, "Are you the leader of this Gnoll Tribe?"

"I am," Gaven replied calmly, unaffected by the man’s attitude, "May I ask what service I can provide?"

"Do you recognize this?" Without wasting words, the young merchant lifted his cloak, revealing a mark on his chest.

It was a white circle with a sloppy "Z" in the middle.

Upon seeing this sign,

Gaven’s eyes involuntarily narrowed.

How could he not recognize it?

It was etched into his very soul, for in a former life, this symbol was branded onto his forehead for more than a decade.

In Felen, there was only one organization using this as their symbol—the Santarin Association, also known as the Dark Intelligence Net.

Initially, the Santarin Association was merely a pure merchant organization, much like the Thousand Chief Commerce Assembly founded by Bede.

However, as it evolved, it changed, especially in the past decade or so.

With the support of Bane Church, it gradually became a major tyrant in the Moon Sea Region, possessing Santiel Fortress by Moon Sea, and the surrounding actual control.

Not only did they have a large number of assassins and spies, but they also had their own army.

Their means of amassing wealth was primarily trade, but they were utterly ruthless.

Hiring monsters and bandits to hit rival merchants was child’s play to them.

Their most common tactic was to plunder competitors’ goods and then sell them back to the business owners from whom they were stolen.

Especially since last year, when the gods were in upheaval, Bane fell, Shylock received divine enshronement, and embraced many powerful divine domains such as plotting, tyranny, fear, illusion, and death all in one. The Santarin Association had become his main source of worship; their modus operandi underwent a drastic change—it could even be called chaotic.

After all, the fall of the God of Tyranny Bane was too sudden, and Shylock was forcefully elevated from mortal to deity, his foundation was severely unstable.

For Shylock to get the former Bane followers under his wing was no easy task.

This fuse would ignite over the next decade, starting with relentless massacres of Bane followers by Shylock Church, followed by Bane’s resurrection through possession, reclaiming the tyranny divine domain, and launching a furious reprisal against Shylock and his church.

These events, however, were yet to come.

The Santarin Association’s most critical commercial pillar was Blackroute, which cut across the Enorok Great Desert, connecting the Moon Sea Region with the Sword Bay Region. They made a killing from this trade route.

However, Blackroute had a significant issue—its stability was too weak.

This threat did not only stem from the indigenous inhabitants such as the Baidai Barbarians, Aisebi Lizardfolk, and Jackalweres of the Great Sandy Sea.

The main issue was still the harsh living conditions of the Great Sandy Sea itself. Once the blinding sandstorms started blowing, even the Santarin Association’s merchant caravans, equipped with flying mages, would vanish without a trace.

In recent years, the Santarin Association had been seeking new trade routes as a supplement to Blackroute.

Through the Moon Sea Road and then passing through Komeer’s Rocklands, was the High Road—The trade route Gaven had previously taken coming from Sword Bay.

This was the main focus of the Santarin Association’s future schemes. For this, they had already taken over Dark Castle to the north of the Sunset Mountain Range, establishing a foothold on the other side of the trade route.

As for the Rocklands on this side, their development had always been problematic.

Putting other things aside, they simply couldn’t get past Komeer.

How could Yasan III allow a notorious and ambitious organization to roam and operate freely in his domain?

If they indeed did so, it wouldn’t be long before Komeer would likely lose even the nominal control over the Rocklands.

Gaven’s change of expression did not escape the notice of the young business owner from the Santarin Association, and a hint of satisfaction crept into his haughty demeanor as he said, "Since you recognize this symbol, the rest is easy to discuss. I now offer you a path to success illuminated with light; once you embark on this path, power, beauty, and strength are but a matter of a few simple words."

Gaven had already guessed the other party’s intentions, but he still feigned ignorance and asked, "Such a good deal exists in the world? Please enlighten me, sir, how should I walk this path?" freewebnσvel.cøm

"Chant the name of Bane, and my god will provide you with protection. Join the Santarin Association, and we will grant you endless business opportunities," said the young business owner, standing up with a grave and solemn expression.

"Bane?" Gaven couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows, He had thought they were followers of Shylock.

That made sense, for the followers of Shylock were usually sneaky, their methods were not so simple and crude.

The young business owner was sensitive to Gaven’s change in expression and said with some annoyance, "What is it? Do you dare look down upon the God of Tyranny?"

"Cough cough..." Gaven hastily adjusted his expression, and said with great solemnity, "I have always held the God of Tyranny in the highest regard. Look, what is this?"

With a reverse gesture, Gaven pulled out a holy emblem from the Howard Convenient Bag. Although it was carved from wood and the workmanship was extremely crude, it was still distinguishable as a clenched fist with rays of light emanating from it.

It was indeed the holy emblem of the former God of Tyranny, Bane.

Of course, Gaven was not a follower of Bane; he was simply catering to the moment. The emblem he presented depended entirely on who the other party worshipped—if they had been a devotee of Shylock, he would have produced Shylock’s holy emblem instead.

And it wasn’t just these two; he had the holy emblems of a whole series of powerful deities, including Tempus, the God of Warfare, Mistela, the Magic Goddess, Lathander, the Morninglord, Ilmater, the God of Suffering, and more.

The greatest advantage of the Howard Convenient Bag was that it could hold all these little trinkets, taking up little space and weighing next to nothing, ready to be produced in bulk.

The young business owner had no idea that Gaven was bold enough to carry around the holy emblems of most Felen deities, risking his soul being nailed to the wall of the faithless after death. His expression eased considerably as he said, "I didn’t expect to encounter a fellow believer here. Now, during these special times, it’s only right to be cautious. The despicable minions of that petty thief Shylock are giving us trouble everywhere, but these difficulties are only temporary. My lord will not take long to return, and when that time comes, we will teach those sneaky wretches what true fear is, what real power is."

"I believe in this, I am here to uphold the ideals of the God of Tyranny, waiting for the moment of my god’s return," Gaven nodded emphatically, his faith unshakeable, for he had witnessed such an event with his own eyes.

Their shared faith significantly lessened the arrogance displayed by the young business owner, who said, "If you are a follower of my god, then things are even simpler."

"What does the lord require of us?" Gaven took the opportunity to inquire.

Gaven’s readiness exceeded the young business owner’s expectations, as he had only been tasked with persuasion and had to stall with, "There are no specific tasks for now; when something needs to be done, someone will naturally let you know."

"Mhm, mhm..." Gaven nodded repeatedly, eventually revealing a businessman’s sleazy smile, "Sir, what about the benefits you mentioned earlier?"

"That..." The young business owner was clearly unprepared, "The benefits, naturally, will be determined by the task. Rest assured, you definitely won’t be shortchanged."

"Oh?" Gaven’s voice trailed off, laden with disappointment, and he made no attempt to hide it, "I had thought that you, my lord, could offer some assistance to our tribe. As you know, we are just starting out, and the Gnolls are so clumsy that aside from mining, they are good for little else. And those merchants, they conspire to exploit us. If you could provide us with food or equipment, I believe we would be able to serve you even better in the future."

"This..." the young trader was somewhat at a loss, "I will try my best to secure it."

"My lord..."

"My lord..."

"My lord..."

Every time Gaven affectionately called him ’my lord,’ the young trader couldn’t help but shudder, knowing that Gaven was about to present a new tricky problem or demand.

By the time he left the Blackwell Tribe, the young trader was still not fully recovered from the daze, feeling quite dizzy.

Gaven was respectful in every way and agreed to everything, leaving the young trader feeling frustrated, as if he had energy but nowhere to apply it.

There was always a sense that everything was floating in a fog, as if shrouded in unreality, yet he couldn’t pinpoint the exact problem.

Instead, he had absentmindedly agreed to a whole host of demands.

Upon returning to the temporary encampment, the young trader was still somewhat distracted.

"Brooke, where have you been?" a stern female voice called out to the young trader.

"Lady Stephanie." The young trader shivered, quickly bending forward in a bow, devoid of any arrogance he had shown at the Blackwell Tribe, showcasing only restraint and timidity. The lady before him appeared as authoritative as her voice, dressed meticulously, and even her wide robes could not conceal her well-trained muscular silhouette.

"You have not yet answered my question." Stephanie’s gaze was as sharp as a knife, as if ready to pierce the young trader’s heart.

"I... I..." The young trader stammered, "I went to the Gnoll Tribe and persuaded their leader to join us. The leader is also a follower of our lord and has agreed to join our ranks, just waiting for us to assign them tasks..."

"Who gave you permission?" Stephanie’s voice was severe, and her face, far from showing any hint of joy, was even more grim.

"I... I... I..." The young trader mumbled for a long time without providing a clear explanation.

"Do you realize that your unauthorized actions could ruin all my plans?" Stephanie’s tone hardened, "I have emphasized time and time again that we must be discreet and secretive, strictly prohibiting any solo actions. Have you forgotten the tenets of our lord?"

"No." Brooke’s head hung so low he seemed to want to bury it in his trousers, "But we have hesitated and observed for too long, we need to take practical action, or else Shylock’s people will beat us to it..."

"Whether or not to take action is my decision. In our group, there can be only one voice, and that is mine," Stephanie thundered, "You still don’t recognize where you went wrong. The way you are conducting yourself now, you do not resemble a follower of our lord but rather a convert to that thief Shylock."