Chương 23: Pottery

With a massive influx of tools, Li Qinwu was overjoyed. At this moment, he didn't give a damn about the humans lingering in Hardship Hamlet. He had only one thought: build, build, and build some more! Aside from the Hobgoblins keeping watch on the castle, every other goblin was put to work. Trees were felled, stumps uprooted, and timber processed on-site into support beams. The cleared land was immediately tilled and planted with the potatoes they had brought along.

Once every goblin had a roof over their head, Li Qinwu ordered a large pit to be dug. He filled it with wood, ignited it, and then smothered the flames with damp earth. By the next day, the pit was filled with high-grade charcoal. With charcoal in hand, Li Qinwu tracked down a vein of clay along the riverbank and began constructing a kiln. Pottery wasn't rocket science: mold the clay into shape and fire it at high heat.

If a piece cracked, Li Qinwu had the goblins grind the failure into a fine powder to mix into the next batch of raw clay—a technique that drastically increased the success rate. By that evening, the first batch of pottery was ready. Pots, bowls, basins—Li Qinwu lined up the reddish-brown vessels and gathered the entire tribe. Holding up a ceramic bowl, Li Qinwu shouted in an impassioned, news-anchor voice: "Brothers! From this day forward, we step away from the life of beasts and stride into the age of cooked food!

This is a small step for our tribe, but a giant leap for the goblin race!" Though the goblins were utterly confused, they cheered for the meat. Li Qinwu issued a decree: communal bonfires were lit, and ceramic pots were filled with water, venison, and wild vegetables. From then on, Li Qinwu's tribe abandoned raw food and unboiled water. Anyone caught reverting to beastly habits would face the lash. Up on the ramparts, the humans watched the forest edge in silence.

Over the past month, the sheer speed of goblin construction had left them speechless. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The forest was receding under the swing of axes, replaced by neat rows of cabins. For humans, building such a settlement would require months of logistical planning and massive funding. These goblins, however, worked with the efficiency of a hive mind. Hana, Monde, and Leo stared gloomily at the "Goblin Village."

The morning's noise had set their nerves on edge, thinking a siege was starting. Instead... the monsters were having a stew party? The scent of boiling meat and onions drifted over the walls. For people living on rations and dry bread, it was psychological torture. More importantly, while they had grain, they had run out of water. The castle was never designed for a long-term siege. Now, everyone's life depended on Hana. The young mage looked exhausted.

Dark circles hung under her eyes; she had become a human water dispenser, spending every waking moment channeling mana to condense water from the air.

"Dammit! What are they celebrating? Is it a holy festival?" Hana sniffled, her stomach growling at the smell of carrots in the air. Steward Monde swallowed hard.

"Without fresh greens, I haven't been able to... relieve myself in days." Leo sighed.

"Lord Lance hasn't left his room since he got back. Morale is at rock bottom. If the goblins attack now, the men won't even be able to lift their spears." Suddenly, they saw a Hobgoblin approaching. It was Gob-Spear.

"Hey! Is that human female who speaks our tongue there? The Boss has a question!" Hana translated the message. She leaned over the wall.

"What does your leader want?"

"The Boss says today is a day for the history books. He wants to know: what is the date? This date is going into the goblin textbooks!" The three of them stared at each other. Textbooks?

"It is April 20th, Year 4352 of the Divine Era," Hana replied. Gob-Spear stood there for a few minutes memorizing the numbers, then shook a sack in his hand.

"The Boss wants to trade! A bag of fresh vegetables for a set of writing tools!" Writing tools for a goblin? The world was truly going mad. But the sight of those fresh greens made them salivate. Thinking of his rock-hard digestive tract, Monde didn't hesitate. He threw his cherished parchment, quill, and ink set over the wall. After confirming the vegetables weren't poisoned, the leaders shared the greens, gaining some minor relief. As for the peasants? They just had to stay "plugged up."

Back at the camp, Li Qinwu spread the parchment. He dipped the quill into the ink and, with a solemn expression, drew the first line of a blueprint. He was planning the capital of the future Goblin Empire: Alexandria-Qin-Constantinople!