Chapter 429: Chapter 338: Handsome King and the Vice Commander (2)

With the output of these goods, Shire could also trade through Yangjiao Town for more necessary supplies, the most important of which was food.

Feeding so many goblins required a massive amount of food every day.

Bai Mao and the female goblins had to work frantically, their large ladles practically flying, just to meet the needs of the entire race.

Furthermore, since Shire had introduced a three-meal-a-day system, food consumption had become even greater. Goblins used to eat just one full meal at noon before lying down to slack off for the rest of the day. Some of the smarter goblins would sneak out to find food on their own, but such independent actions were very unsafe. You never knew if you might become a wild beast’s meal—or someone else’s.

This resulted in the goblins all looking malnourished, with large heads, emaciated bodies where their ribs were visible, and spindly limbs.

For the race to develop properly, physical conditioning was essential. If every goblin collapsed after just a few swings of a sledgehammer, building the Forest City would take an eternity.

Fortunately, the Elephant Lord and its herd were here to help for now. But once spring arrived, the herd would leave, and the goblins would be on their own.

’We have to rely on the Elephant Lord to get the roads built first,’ Shire thought as he hurried to the construction site, already planning for the future.

The Elephant Lord’s colossal body was like a road roller. Its enormous feet were like millstones. Once the weeds and shrubs were cleared, they just had to have the Elephant Lord walk over the area a few times, and the ground would be compacted.

There wasn’t much rain during the winter, making it the perfect time to build a road.

Shire also had the Centaurs notify the Frogmen. He even had Oreco bring Wa Er San Wu Qi Yi to the shores of Darren Lake for a look. The entire Frogman Race was abuzz; they truly believed Shire was the savior from their legends, the one who had emerged from the Egg-Birth Gate.

The Centaurs had already transported many jars of Black Mud from the Frogmen. Once the roadbed was compacted, Shire planned to test using the Black Mud to pave it.

Upon learning that their "savior" needed large quantities of Black Mud, the Frogmen began voluntarily scraping the mucus from their own bodies. They had practically formed an assembly line, filling any empty jar brought to them in no time. This forced Shire to have the Centaurs pass a message to the old Frogman Clan Leader: "We have enough Black Mud for now. Please don’t let the entire Frogman Race dehydrate themselves."

’This is the starting point of my future enterprise.’ Shire unfolded the design plans for the Forest City. He stood atop the ruins of the collapsed Feathered Serpent Stone Tower, looking down on the dilapidated city before him. ’Only by uniting these goblins can I amass enough power to contend with humanity. Only then can I bring my vision to life.’

’Only by creating this kind of urban industry will I have a rear base that can constantly produce supplies. Only with a proper base of operations can I support the goblin army’s movements. Otherwise, if we just conquer and slaughter one city after another, it might solve our supply problems, but the goblin army would become synonymous with the Death God, and the Goblin Kingdom would become a kingdom that every intelligent race wants to destroy.’

’What I envision is a world where goblins can walk openly before humanity. Even if it makes the nobles uncomfortable, they will have no choice but to address me respectfully as ’Mr. Handsome’ or the ’Handsome King’.’ This was Shire’s ambition. If he could never break this damned Transformation Curse and was forced to live out his days as a goblin, he hoped to do so standing in the sunlight, not hiding in the shadows of the forest.

Several birds chirped as they flew across the sky overhead. Sunlight streamed down, illuminating the ancient, yet vibrant, ruins.

Shire stood at the top of the weed-choked stone tower. He spread his arms, embracing the sun and the air, and shouted toward the south—toward the Fran Kingdom, toward his family’s domain of Torch City:

"Well then, you princes of the Fran Kingdom, and all you other nobles, are you ready?"

......

"I’m ready."

Lingard adjusted his simple armor, then straightened the surcoat he wore over it, making sure the embroidered emblem—a longsword with three pairs of outstretched wings, trimmed in gold—was neat and clean.

"Vice Commander," a Paladin at his side began, but he immediately corrected himself after catching Lingard’s sharp glare. "Lord Commander, are we to enter the Nightmare Forest now? The sailors are very reluctant to navigate their boats into the forested parts of the Darren River."

"They’re reluctant? Did we not pay them enough?" Lingard glanced toward the distant docks, his tone laced with displeasure.

"No, we paid the full amount, plus extra for their trouble," the Holy Order Warrior said, shaking his head. "They’re just afraid of the monsters in the forest. Some even say that goblins will jump onto their boats and kill them."

"Foolish commoners," Lingard sneered. "With us here, what are a few goblins? We are on our way to slay an Evil God, to make our names known. Once we display the Evil God’s corpse for all to see, the prestige of the Church will be praised by all of humanity."

"Or perhaps it’s not fear," he mused, studying the sailors huddled together, noting their evasive glances. He understood perfectly. ’Greedy bastards. They’re probably just trying to squeeze more money out of us.’

With this in mind, Lingard said to the Holy Order Warrior beside him, "Have them come here. Tell them to form a line in front of me. I will bestow a personal blessing upon each of them."

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