Chapter 333 - 290: Hope for Rebuilding the City of Ten Thousand Races

Shire believed anyone who had seen the concrete and steel jungles of his past life would understand the importance of cement.

He also faced the challenge of rebuilding the City of Ten Thousand Races within the forest.

He had questioned the Skeleton Warriors in detail and knew what a beautiful city it had once been. It had wide streets lined with houses of diverse architectural styles. Since it was built in a forest, trees grew along the roads and around the homes, creating a lush, green canopy. Anyone walking the streets could always enjoy the cool shade and the sound of birdsong. There were even children from all the different races who would climb the great trees to pick and eat fruit.

Unfortunately, the news Broken Tooth brought back was heartbreaking for Shire. He had already braced himself for the city to be deserted, but Broken Tooth's description gave him a much starker understanding of reality's cruelty.

The term "ruins" was not enough to describe it. More than half of what little remained of the city had collapsed. A few precarious stone houses still stood stubbornly among the trees, but with every blast of the cold winter wind, they looked as if a single kick could bring them down. The streets were buried under a thick layer of fallen leaves, making them rough and uneven. Shire figured that if you didn't watch your step, you'd easily be tripped by a gnarled root.

The once-diverse houses were now nothing but burrows—all sorts of them.

The situation pained Shire, and it also impressed upon him the long and arduous road that lay ahead.

Goblins couldn't live in burrows forever, just as they couldn't spend their lives wearing grass skirts, waving wooden clubs, and eating nothing but rats and frogs. Now, he had brought his people new food, new clothes, and new customs. In the future, when his people numbered in the thousands or even tens of thousands, the City of Ten Thousand Races would become the "Promised City" that the Nightmare Forest had prepared for the goblins.

Rebuilding the City of Ten Thousand Races—or rather, building the goblins' own city—was Shire's most important future goal. As for the Feathered Serpent Evil God, it was merely a small bump in the road to progress.

With this city, the goblin race would become more unified. It would also accelerate their social development, turning them into a race that could truly stand against human armies. Without it, they would remain what others called them: "green-skinned rats" living in burrows.

But building, or rather, repairing a city was no easy task. Even though Shire had already secured the allegiance of the elephant herd and found the Worker Ants, the building materials—all the stone and wood—represented a massive expense. And among those materials, cement was an absolute necessity.

Building adhesives similar to cement did exist in this world, creations of the Alchemists. However, they were expensive and typically controlled by merchant guilds. The guilds would purchase ore from mine owners, then mix and calcine it to produce a substance similar to "cement."

Shire had been involved in the construction of Deepwater Port, so he knew that substance was similar to the "Roman Cement" of his past life. But now, hearing that the Frogmen could provide an adhesive on par with it—and one that didn't even require calcination—made his eyes practically glow as he looked at them.

'He really wanted to tie this entire Frogman Race to racks and have his goblins continuously scrape their backs with softwood boards. As long as he kept them from dehydrating by constantly pouring water on them, they could produce mucus without interruption. It was just like a mature Rubber Tree plantation—make a cut every day, and the sap just flows out. These Frogmen were practically living "Cement Men"!'

However, Shire told himself he wasn't a complete monster; he couldn't do something so monstrous.

"So, how do you plan on killing that monster fish?" Pazani asked, looking at the goblin beside him. Shire was stroking his chin, his eyes gleaming, and Pazani unconsciously took two steps away from him.

"First, we need to scout it out. We have to determine the creature's abilities and its size to see if our group can even kill it. If it's too difficult, our only option is to relocate the Frogmen first," Shire said, pressing his lips together. "But I'd still prefer to kill that monster fish right in front of them."

"Why?" Pazani pressed.

"It's simple. That creature is the Frogmen's mortal enemy, the culprit preventing them from hatching their young. Of course, the Frogmen also mentioned the pool's temperature is too low for hatching anyway... but if we kill the monster fish in front of them, we'll be avenging the Frogman Race. They'll be much more grateful to us for that," Shire said, gazing at the dark, still pool in the distance, his brow furrowed. "It'll do more to build a bond between us than just shipping them off to Darren Lake."

When trading with another race, profit was one thing, but goodwill was also essential. In human society, goodwill often meant little; merchants and nobles cared more for profit. But in the forest, where every race struggled on the brink of survival, such bonds could sometimes be far more valuable.

"Then what do you need from me?" the Naga Prince asked, his gaze following Shire's to the distant pool. "But let me be clear, I'm not jumping in there."

"I know," Shire nodded. "I have other uses for you. I can't just throw you away on something like this."