The Forest Feeds No Idle Goblins

At the entrance to the cavern, ten goblins were bound together in a tight cluster. Knowing what awaited them, their faces were ashen, and they had stopped struggling.

Gradually, a RUSTLING sound echoed from the depths of the cavern. The torches lining the path, as if stirred by something unseen, began to go out one by one.

The goblins stared wide-eyed into the cavern’s depths. As the torches went out in pairs, a pair of yellow "lights" slowly grew larger.

Soon, they could make out a massive snake head covered in green scales. Just as they began to tremble, trying to flee only to be thwarted by their bonds, they tumbled over one another in a heap. At that moment, the Feathered Serpent reared its enormous head and lunged forward like a bolt of lightning.

It was so fast that the ten goblins were devoured by the Feathered Serpent before they could even make a sound. With a single gulp, the "offerings" slid down its gullet.

The Feathered Serpent rustled its scales, raised its head to scan the surroundings, and then slithered back into the cavern’s depths.

Only as it passed the old goblin did its cold voice echo, "To the south, in the forest, some goblins are meddling with my power."

"Great Feathered Serpent God," the old goblin said, bowing respectfully, "who is it that desecrates your power?"

"Just some insignificant creature. Go, send someone to capture them," the Feathered Serpent God said lazily. It then slithered toward the depths of the cavern, paying the old goblin no further mind.

Only after the massive Feathered Serpent vanished did the old goblin straighten up. He stared into the pitch-black cavern and sighed silently. ’Another ten.’

Then, with faltering steps, he began to make his way out, stumbling through the darkness.

In the Darkness, the TAP, TAP, TAP of his Bone Staff on the stone floor echoed continuously. The old goblin stared blankly ahead as the sunlight from the distant entrance grew from a small point of light. As he emerged from the dark cavern, the sun once again bathed him in light. Behind him, on the ground, were the traces left by the "offerings" that had just been devoured.

"When will it ever end?" the old goblin sighed. He then walked down the steps one by one. Below the stone tower, a crowd of goblins had already gathered.

"The Feathered Serpent God has given a command," the old goblin announced, standing on the steps and surveying the goblins below. "To the south, in the forest, there are goblins desecrating its Divine Power. You are needed to capture them."

The goblins all looked at one another in confusion. This was the first time they had ever heard such a command, and none of them knew what to do.

The old goblin had anticipated this reaction. He beckoned to the side, and an adult goblin scurried up the steps to stand before him.

"Bald Hide, take a group of goblins and search to the south," the old goblin said quietly.

"High Priest, how many goblins are needed?" Bald Hide asked, bowing and scraping.

"The goblins from forty caverns," the High Priest said. In this Feathered Serpent Goblin Kingdom, a single cavern housed exactly twenty goblins. Forty caverns meant that eight hundred goblins would be dispatched.

As Bald Hide accepted the command and scampered down the steps, shouting and hollering, the High Priest raised his eyes, trying to get a better look at the crowd of goblins below the tower. ’Who in the world could it be,’ he wondered, ’to be able to meddle with the Feathered Serpent God’s power?’

’And how is he doing it?’

...

"Is this the finished product?" Shire asked, looking at the black shoe in his hand.

"These are the ones the shoemakers made as a trial run, following your instructions, Boss," Little John said, picking up another shoe from the table.

The shoes had all been made according to sketches Shire had drawn. He had based the designs on the hiking boots and combat boots of his previous life, creating several different patterns. Now, the shoemakers of Yangjiao Town had produced a few prototypes.

The style of the shoes was foreign to this world, so the shoemakers had to spend some time figuring out the patterns. The fact that they could produce them at all was a testament to their considerable skill.

Shire compared the shoe to his own foot. Seeing that the sole was about the right size, he slipped one of the prototypes on.

"Hmm, the fit is pretty good," he said, stomping on the ground a few times to test the overall comfort. "Is the exterior waterproof?"

"Yes," Little John nodded. "I specifically relayed your requirements to the shoemakers: the sole must be durable and slip-resistant, and the upper must be waterproof."

"It must have taken them quite a bit of effort to figure this out," Shire said, bending down to look at the shoe on his foot. He felt the prototype was a little big, likely because his own feet were small.

For generations, goblins had run through the forest barefoot. They trampled through grass, climbed trees, and waded across streams, all without shoes. This was true in summer, and it was true in winter. It wasn’t as if goblins never cut the soles of their feet, or never stepped on sharp branches that pierced their footpads. The traditional goblin way of dealing with such injuries was to find some herbs, smear them on the wound, and wrap it with a leaf.

But that was mostly useless. So, the goblins would fall back on their ancestral skill: enduring the pain. They would wait for the wound to heal on its own. If it didn’t heal properly, they’d become crippled. The sequence of events that followed was all too familiar: they couldn’t fight for food, couldn’t find much to eat on their own, and were eventually driven out and abandoned by the clan, only to be devoured by wild beasts in the forest.

After Shire became chief, his subordinates would still sometimes injure their feet while hunting or gathering herbs in the forest. Fortunately, the little goblins were able to effectively treat their injuries. But now that winter was setting in, these goblins still needed to labor in the forest, making the warmth and safety of their feet especially important.

"The shoemakers said your design is quite ingenious," Little John said, setting the shoe down. "They’ve never seen anything like it."

"The only thing is, the required materials are too high-end. The waterproofing and durability will cost a fair bit of money. They’re much more expensive than the commoner shoes they used to make."

"I know." Shire nodded. He knew the materials required for these shoes weren’t much inferior to what was used for a nobleman’s ordinary leather boots. "Have them take another look. If it’s possible, I’ll place an order for two hundred pairs."

"That will cost a fortune." Little John picked up one of the shoes again. To be honest, he was also quite fond of them. Shoes like these would be perfect for an Adventurer to wear. Having a pair in the forest would certainly be much better than the old roughspun leather boots.

"Don’t worry, we should have enough money," Shire said with a nod. "If we really can’t manage it, we’ll just order them in batches."

That way, his subordinates could have shoes designed specifically for the forest, which would also improve their work efficiency.

"Alright, I’ll let the shoemakers know," Little John said.