Forests Don't Support Idle Goblins

"Did you go pick kuang berries?" Charles asked.

"Yes, Chief." Nine Fingers gently put down the package. "I found them while I was gathering them in the tree."

"No protection whatsoever, just recklessly running through the thicket, that's really brave." Charles chuckled and exhaled. "Let's go eat."

Charles watched his men walk away, a sentence left unsaid: "You're brave to climb trees and pick fruit while you only have one hand left and are still recovering."

"Come here." He beckoned, summoning the five goblins to his side.

"Did you come from the north?" he asked.

The five goblins trembled, huddled together, and none of them answered. Sharl frowned and asked again.

Finally, a goblin that wasn't too hunchbacked was pushed to the front and answered Sharl's question: "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Your Majesty?" Charles's lips twitched. He was being called Your Majesty so quickly.

"How did you get through the rustling woods?" he asked.

The goblin looked down at his shackles and said, "We ran here."

"Aren't you afraid of getting blown up? You're really brave," Charles laughed.

"It's no big deal if we get blown up," a goblin muttered quietly, huddled in the crowd.

"If one of you blew up, you won't be able to get through the woods with the body," Charles corrected, but seeing the resolute look in their eyes, he immediately became serious. "What would you do if your comrade died?"

"Bite off his ankle and throw him down," the goblin replied calmly, as if that were the proper thing to do.

Xia Er fell silent. What could be so dangerous in the north that would make these goblins risk their lives to cross the rustling forest?

"Go eat something first, we'll talk after you've eaten." He didn't press further, waved to them, and told the white-haired man not to give them too much, as it would be dangerous for people who had been starving for a long time to eat freely.

The five goblins took their wooden bowls and rustled their way to the back of the line. They stared blankly at the goblins in front of them, who were scooping their food like crabs with their legs spread apart. After exchanging a few words in hushed tones, they too spread their legs and moved forward.

While rummaging through the small pot, Shire observed the foreign goblins.

They ate very quickly, chewing their food a few times before swallowing it. Even when they burned their tongues, they didn't change their eating habits. What was even more surprising was that, compared to their subordinates' noisy eating, they were completely silent. Charles even felt that these five goblins weren't eating, but performing a ritual, a ritual that had been rehearsed many times.

However, Charles could still discern quite a bit from their eyes. They had their heads down, their eyes fixed on the large pot, their gazes filled with a longing for food. If Charles hadn't ordered the food to be controlled, they might have even eaten the pot itself.

"What's up to the north?" After lunch, Ciel began asking about the situation.

"There are trolls." It was the same goblins as before; they relaxed a bit and weren't as reserved.

"Trolls?" Sharl thought for a moment. Natural history books describe these humanoid creatures as tall, cruel, and stupid. An adult troll is more than 2 meters tall when standing, about the same height as a Deinonychus.

Moreover, they have a voracious appetite and will eat any prey they can kill.

Trolls like to live in caves. If there are no caves, they will dig their own and cover the entrance with dry branches. They will also enslave goblins to find food for them.

"So you've been enslaved by a troll?" Sharl asked.

"Not one, but two," the goblin replied respectfully.

"There are three," one of the dogs next to it corrected.

"No, 'casual' doesn't count."

"But he is."

"How many are there exactly?" Charles interrupted their argument.

"There are two," the goblin in the lead replied.

"Just the five of you goblins? There must be quite a few more, right?"

Several goblins huddled together, their hands clasped together, and began counting heads. Finally, five goblins raised their hands in unison, "That's about the number."

"Nearly 50 goblins," Sharl sat up straight immediately. "Are they still in the north?"

"They're still here; only we escaped," the goblin said.

With so many goblins, they could do a lot of things, and their population growth rate was decent. Sharl decided to find a way to bring these goblins under his command. "Are they like you? How many are female goblins?"

"Like us, there are no females," the goblin replied calmly. "The female goblins have all been killed."

After a moment's thought, Charles understood what the other party meant. He paused for a moment and said, "Alright, I will rescue your original tribe."

"No, Your Majesty, you only need to accept us, please don't go!" the goblin immediately retorted. "Trolls are very powerful, and there's nothing in the forest that can defeat the two of them. We saw them drive away a giant bear that was emitting black smoke. If you lead your men to attack the trolls, it would be tantamount to suicide. Trolls don't want to cross the forest, so this place is still safe."

"What about your original companions?" Charles asked.

The goblin remained silent, his expression natural, showing little emotional fluctuation.

Looking at the five thin goblins, Sharl suddenly understood their thoughts: they were able to cross the treacherous forest by sheer luck, but if he led his men to attack, they would surely be killed, and the hard-won chance of survival would be lost forever.

Charles rose and walked towards his men. As he passed the goblins, one of them said, "We only want to join your tribe. We're content to eat the same thing every day. You can make us do anything—beat us, scold us, prevent us from sleeping in the cave—just please don't go north. The trolls are very powerful."

Charles ignored him and walked to the center of the field, where he shouted, "We're going to the north to fight the trolls!"

The goblins, who had just finished eating, looked at each other, puzzled as to why their leader would say such a thing.

"Are you afraid of trolls?" Sharl asked.

His subordinates hesitated slightly, clearly indicating that many goblins had heard of trolls and knew how terrifying these creatures were.

Charles kicked the Deinonychus's head toward Red Eyes: "We killed the Deinonychus."

Red-eyed stared at the filthy, mangled head before him and instinctively followed up, "We killed the Deinonychus."

Charles repeated, "We killed the Deinonychus."

Red Eyes repeated it, his voice even louder: "We killed the Deinonychus."

Then he kicked the head at another goblin.

Gradually, all the goblins were saying, "We killed the Deinonychus," and the head was passed around at their feet like a toy.

Seeing his men being incited, Charles felt reassured. He figured that regardless of their fighting strength, at least now no one would run away if a fight broke out.

"I'll go see Agatha this afternoon," Charles thought, "and ask her about trolls."

He walked back to the small pot, his eyes glancing at the five foreign goblins, whose eyes were filled with worry and sorrow.