The plunder of the heavens begins with the Spirit Cage.

The deafening roar crushed large chunks of ore, which were then loaded onto carts and transported by slaves to open areas outside the mining area.

Hofd's gaze was fixed on an Ash Guard resting against a pile of ore not far away.

The guard was casually fiddling with his bolt-action rifle, the brass bullets reflecting a cold gleam in the sunlight.

These metal rods, capable of making loud "bang" sounds, easily tore apart the caravan guards' Icaran and chest.

Only by acquiring such a weapon, killing the Ash Clan leader, and taking advantage of their internal strife could he have a chance to escape.

"What are you looking at! Want to taste a bullet?" Noticing Hoff's gaze, the guard raised his gun menacingly.

Ever since he first pulled the trigger and watched his powerful enemy fall before his eyes, he had almost fallen in love with such a powerful thing.

Compared to bows and arrows, firearms can take lives with the slightest movement of a finger.

I really miss the days when I went to war with the chief, but now I'm stuck in this boring mining area guarding a group of slaves.

He remembered killing the miners last month, but the thrill of the blood and gunfire still lingered in his mind.

Staring at Hofrd, a cruel, mocking, and provocative smile appeared on his face.

He secretly hoped the other party would do something outrageous so that he would have a reason to shoot directly.

Unfortunately, to his disappointment, the other party showed fear after facing the gun, lowered his head, and dared not look at it again, silently pushing the empty cart back.

The guard chuckled, disappointedly sheathed his gun, feeling only boredom and annoyance.

When Hofd passed the cross again, one of the Na'vi on it had been dragged to a higher position.

"boom!"

A muffled gunshot rang out, and the slaves in the mine trembled involuntarily.

Those executed were all rebels who had killed their overseers.

The Ash Tribe executes people in public every day to instill fear in the hearts of every miner, gradually shattering their will and tearing apart their psychological defenses, so that everyone submits to their very core and never dares to have any thought of resistance again.

This kind of rule is far colder, more efficient, and more despairing than the simple killing and plundering of the past.

Chapter 102 Self-Destructing Ring

The roar of the mines never ceased, and countless Na'vi miners, like wound-up machines, repeated the same tasks of digging, carrying, and crushing day after day, amidst whips and shouts...

Sweat hit the scorching rocks and evaporated instantly.

There is no day or night here, only three shifts of labor under the lamplight.

"Clang clang clang!"

The horn signaled a short break, and the slaves put down their tools and rushed toward the canteen enclosed by sheet metal.

Thanks to the advice of a certain professional nation in The Wandering Earth, the food provided to the slaves was quite generous; they could eat their fill.

Whether it tastes good or not is another matter; as long as they have the energy to work, that's fine.

The staple foods from the various worlds within the consortium are barely enough to make ends meet, and any surplus food that can be squeezed out is sold under the label of "high-end."

Hofford sat slumped on the dust, holding a bowl of thick, mushy food. He stared at the extra piece of dried meat in it and chewed numbly, just like everyone else, too weak to even speak.

Just then, heavy footsteps approached from afar. The foreman, accompanied by two men and led by a Na'vi man with a submissive and obsequious expression, walked straight toward Hofd.

He knew the sycophant; he used to be a crew member on his father's merchant ship.

"Lord Manco, this is Hoff, the Wind Merchant. His father is very famous in our line of work."

Upon hearing this, Hoffeld's heart sank, and his mind raced as he wondered if his secret actions had been exposed.

Or was someone reported it?

Uncle Reed couldn't possibly have betrayed me, could he?

Hofford suppressed the turmoil in his heart, lowered his head, and dared not look directly at his opponent, waiting for misfortune to befall him.

Fortunately, Manco just chuckled, rubbed the dust off the ground with the tip of his boot, waved his hand, and walked straight ahead.

"Go wait in the open space on the outskirts," a foreman said coldly as he stepped forward and followed Manco without looking back.

Hoff watched for a while, puzzled, and then realized they were looking for the group of Wind Merchants who had been captured. The heart that had been in his throat finally began to settle down.

It's not enough that something happened; so many people involved couldn't possibly be a bad thing.

Hofd walked outside, and along the way he saw other merchants and former crew members.

They arrived at the open space one after another, bewildered and apprehensive, and lined up obediently.

Compared to the complexity of the forest, the merchants could more directly experience the terror brought by gunfire from the sky.

The crowd grew larger and larger in the open space, consisting entirely of former merchants, sailors, and guards.

Hoff's gaze swept quickly across the numb faces, soon locking onto Reed, a tall, middle-aged Na'vi with a scar on his chest.

Using the crowd as cover, he quickly moved over and asked in a low voice, "Uncle Reed, what do you think the Ash Clan wants to do?"

Reed slowly raised his eyes, glancing almost imperceptibly at the guards surrounding the open space.

His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and he replied in a voice only the two of them could hear: "No one from the forest tribes tells us to either continue our trade or to take care of and manage the stingrays and ships."

“Aren’t they robbers? How could they be merchants?” Hofd’s heart skipped a beat.

The constant influx of new slaves into the mining area demonstrates that the Ash Clan has no shortage of resources and doesn't need to travel and trade like merchants.

Reed shook his head slightly. "It is precisely because they have robbed so much that they need merchants even more."

A qualified leader takes what is unnecessary and exchanges it for what is needed.

He paused, then added something that shocked Hofford even more: "Our old caravans actually traded with quite a few bandits in secret."

The robbers needed a passage, we needed a source of goods; it was simply a matter of each getting what they wanted.

These words struck young Hofford so hard that he froze on the spot, his understanding of the boundaries between bandits and merchants instantly crumbling.

Just as he was about to ask further questions, the sky suddenly darkened, and when everyone looked up, they saw a large swarm of Ashwing Bats rushing towards them.

The dark shadows of wings blocked out the sunlight above the mining area, and the piercing sound of flapping wings and roars of beasts made people's eardrums hurt.

Before long, the Ash Clan warriors, riding their Ashwing Bats, swooped down and scattered to the high places and edges around the open space.

Each soldier held his rifle at his side, his fingers firmly on the inside of the trigger guard, close to the trigger.

Two figures landed in the center, one after the other. Hoff recognized the woman in front of him; the crimson feathered crown on her head indicated that she was the leader of the Ash Clan.

Half a step behind him was a middle-aged man dressed in clothing that fit the Neville aesthetic.

In terms of temperament, he possessed an air of nobility that surpassed that of all the Na'vi.

Looking at the brightly colored clothes on the other person, Hoffeld was amazed for the first time, thinking, "So this is how you can dress, and look this good."

Manco bowed and nodded to Valang, then turned and picked up a megaphone, shouting to the slaves below, "You're lucky! This merchant next to you intends to buy you all out of here with goods!"

After Manco finished shouting, he said no more, put away the megaphone and stepped aside, leaving only a noisy commotion in the open space.

When someone tried to free them from their tireless labor, the simple-minded Na'vi showed little wariness. Instead, their numb faces gradually lit up with an irrepressible excitement.

But that doesn’t mean Nalway would trust them. His caravan only had two people, and who knows if they would serve him after they were freed.

Primitive people were not expected to understand what 'buying and selling' and private ownership were.

Therefore, Nalway stepped forward, and after Manco fired a shot to signal for silence, he picked up the megaphone and said in advance, "It is an honor for you all to be aboard my caravan."

But this isn't a free stay; you should know this rule.

Those below nodded and raised their hands in agreement, shouting to show they understood.

Nalway didn't care whether their response was a casual remark from someone eager to get out or if they were genuinely sincere.

His tone turned cold, and he took out a circular ring from his pocket, raised it high, and shouted: "I do not trust you!"

Therefore, for my safety, all Na'vi who want to board my caravan must wear self-destruct collars.

As he spoke, he put the neck ring on the thick wooden stake he had prepared beforehand, took a half step back, and then gently pressed the remote control button on the wristband.

"boom--!"

With a loud bang, the upper part of the wooden stake was blasted into flying wood chips.

Everyone who witnessed this scene fell into a deathly silence, except for Walang, whose eyes gradually brightened as he looked at the effect of the neck ring. He had finally found a way to replenish his strength.

Looking at the horror and fear on the faces of the crowd below, Nalway smiled with satisfaction.

After witnessing the effects and functions of the self-destructing neck ring for the first time, he was quite frightened.

"This is a means to prevent your betrayal. Once you have paid back the debts and interest I have paid to you, I will remove the shackles."

At that time, whether you stay or leave will be entirely your own choice.

His gaze swept over the hundreds of people below, and finally he asked in a deep voice, "Now, who is willing to join my caravan?"

Chapter 103 Sky Ship

They faced the daily toil and the beatings of the whip.

The Na'vi, who were used to a life of freedom and eating, drinking, and sleeping, hesitated for only half a second before choosing to put on the neck rings and join Na'vi's 'Sky' caravan.

"373 people, that's a bit few."

Walang, could you gather five hundred men for me?

"Prices and supplies are negotiable," Narvi asked Varang calmly.

He hadn't forgotten the fact that his caravan had been wiped out by the Ash Clan.

Fortunately, his wife and children were visiting home and not on the ship at the time, otherwise he would not have been able to talk to the enemy so calmly.

In short, while there wasn't a major feud, a grudge had been formed.

"My mine needs many more people."

"If it weren't for John Hart's sake, you wouldn't be getting a single one of you exchanged."

Varang's gaze was cold and frosty; she had long forgotten about such a minor figure as Narvi.

In her view, the other party was nothing more than a nobody who made a living by relying on the Sky People.

He even dared to ask her to gather 500 people, acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It was ridiculously arrogant.