Slime Immortal.

Chapter 127 The Conquest of Gourmet Food

Perhaps the poor-quality food was simply too hard to swallow, or perhaps it was to distract oneself from thinking about what one had actually swallowed.

Kane turned around and asked in a low voice to Anvil, who was still silently munching on black bread, "Is there any other message in the divine grace, such as prophecy or instruction?"

He paused, his voice heavy with the weight of reality, "Anvil, you know, we've been imprisoned here for years, barely getting enough to eat. Our skills have long since become rusty. Passing the trial won't be so easy."

The anvil paused for a moment, its rough fingers unconsciously tightening their grip on the hard bread.

He struggled internally, hesitating whether to reveal the whole truth that it was the slime behind it all, not Morgul.

But in the end, he gave up on the idea.

There was no other reason than that the truth about the "Slime Kingdom" was too absurd and bizarre, and even he himself would find it hard to believe if he hadn't experienced it firsthand.

In contrast, "divine grace," though ethereal and intangible, makes it easier for those struggling in despair to grasp a glimmer of hope.

He raised his eyes, trying to make his tone sound confident, and said in a low voice, "Don't worry, Kane, God has already revealed the way. We just need to prepare for the demonic tide in three days. As for the rest... leave it to me."

In truth, he wasn't very confident, and even had a vague worry that those slimes might never return, or be trampled into pulp by the terrifying monsters of the dungeon on their way here.

Kane glanced at his old friend's evasive eyes. He knew Anvil; the dwarf was honest and loyal, but not good at lying.

He knew the anvil was hiding something, but he didn't ask any questions and just nodded silently.

He had known this kind-hearted dwarf for several years and was familiar with his character and story.

A person who is willing to endure torture and be beaten to death to protect children deserves his trust.

Since the anvil chose not to speak, it must have had its reasons.

Kane patted the anvil on the shoulder, said nothing more, and got up to leave the shack.

Only Iron Anvil remained. He rubbed his still empty and sore stomach, sat on the cold, dry grass, and stared blankly at the rock wall.

Hunger, like a persistent, insidious disease, relentlessly gnawed at his will.

He couldn't help but recall the slime messenger's seemingly unreliable promise, and subconsciously licked his chapped lips as his thoughts began to drift away.

In a daze, he seemed to return to the warm and sturdy stone hall of Blackstone Fortress, back to the night when he celebrated with his people through another difficult winter.

Under the soft candlelight, the freshly roasted chicken exuded a smoky aroma, its skin golden and crispy, garnished with a few sprigs of rosemary.

He sat at the long wooden table, spreading a thick layer of fine butter on the still-hot toast, along with a few pieces of savory goat cheese and well-stewed chickpeas.

One glass of ice-cold ale after another, until I felt warm all over and my vision blurred. Finally, I collapsed contentedly at the table, muttering "one more glass," as my consciousness gradually sank into darkness...

With its belly full of hunger and this brief and illusory comfort, the anvil fell into a deep sleep.

Perhaps, my stomach won't hurt so much in my dreams.

After an unknown amount of time, all the slaves had fallen into a deep, silent sleep from exhaustion and hunger, and the camp was as quiet as a tomb.

Just then, a faint rustling sound came from inside the rock wall and entered the anvil's ears.

He groggily opened his sleepy eyes, mumbled a few words, and subconsciously tried to block out the noise and return to that delicious dream.

Suddenly he jolted awake, his half-closed eyelids snapping open. He remembered the slime messenger's promise and immediately looked toward the rock wall from which the noise had come.

In his dark vision, he could clearly see dust falling from the rock face.

Then, the commotion intensified, and the hard rock wall was slowly chiseled open, revealing a hole.

Having learned from its previous experience, the chubby little guy was clearly smarter. He first made the hole big enough so that his round body could easily pass through.

Soon, the two little guys jumped down.

"Two envoys, you've arrived?"

Iron Anvil subconsciously swallowed, and his empty stomach immediately rumbled loudly.

The wet nurse brothers skillfully jumped onto his outstretched palm, puffed out their little bellies, and said proudly and smugly:
"That's right, we brought food."

As soon as he finished speaking, the two beetles following behind worked together to push a large tuber of crop, still slightly warm, out of the hole. It fell to the ground with a thud, rolled a few times, and stopped at the foot of the anvil.

The anvil carefully picked up the tuber; it was warm to the touch, and the outer layer seemed to have been baked, giving it a smoky aroma.

He tore open the slightly charred outer layer, and a burnt aroma of plant starch immediately wafted out, like a charming little fairy beckoning to his nose.

He couldn't hold back any longer, opened his mouth wide and took a big bite, then almost wolfed it down as if he hadn't eaten for centuries.

"Thank... thank you, Slime Messenger..." he mumbled incoherently, his mouth stuffed full, and he choked after a few bites, his face turning red as he could only pound his chest in frustration.

"Eat slowly, there's still water here."

Look how hungry the children are.

These goblins are not human.

The beetle then promptly offered a container of clean water made from large, clean leaves.

The anvil took it, gulped it down in one go, let out a long sigh of relief, and then continued to bury itself in the precious food.

As he ate, two streams of tears rolled down his rough cheeks; he was so moved that he cried.

"Thank you... thank you..." he repeated, his voice choked with emotion.

Delicious food, clean water, a simple and pure feeling of fullness... these things he had long dared not hope for were now truly filling his body.

At that moment, the weathered dwarf was filled with indescribable gratitude.

He even felt that if the slime messenger asked him to fight a goblin bear one-on-one right now, he would rush in without hesitation.

"Delicious...it's so delicious..."

He mumbled, wiping away tears and snot, "Thank you, Kingdom... thank you, King Slime..."

Hmph, this must taste delicious.

Although Chen Yu didn't recognize what kind of crop the tuber was, he knew that if he roasted it and sprinkled some salt on it, it would taste similar to roasted potatoes and be quite fragrant.

Not to mention, some are as big as taro, which are incredibly filling.

After a satisfying meal, I can work all day without any problem.

"Don't just eat vegetables, eat more meat."

The two beetles then carried down another moss monster that had been roasted to a crisp.

As soon as Tiezhen smelled the aroma of meat, perhaps out of fear of being discovered, or perhaps because he was extremely hungry, he took it and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing it heartily.

The rich, oily flavor and the uniquely crispy texture of the mossy monster's skin exploded in his mouth, instantly widening his eyes in disbelief.

"Delicious!"

It's delicious, that's all that matters.

Chen Yu was extremely satisfied.

Their "Moss Monster Lovers Association" has finally gained another member, which is cause for celebration.

Chen Yu didn't let him eat too much, because it's bad for your health to suddenly overeat after being hungry for a long time. Seven-tenths full is enough, but even seven-tenths full made Tiezhen feel extremely satisfied.

He stroked his slightly protruding belly, a happy and simple smile spreading across his face.

After being satisfied, Iron Anvil hesitated for a moment before cautiously asking, "Your Excellency, may I share some of this food with my companions? Kane and the others..."

The wet nurse brothers swayed slightly, conveying their agreement.

"Of course, all those who intend to resist the tyranny of the goblins are friends of the Slime Kingdom. The kingdom will not let its warriors fight on an empty stomach."

"Remember, if you need food, just tap the rock face three times, and we will provide it to you as much as we can."

"Tomorrow, give me the list of believers who are willing to accept the 'trial,' and I will provide them with the necessary assistance so that the plan can proceed smoothly."

The anvil paused for a moment, then hummed, "Rest assured, Your Excellency, I am prepared to die."

His tone was calm, and he didn't seem to think he could survive the resistance.

Even if some believers could gain power through the trials, their chances of winning against the hundreds or thousands of well-equipped goblins in the fortress would be pitifully slim.

He assumed that the Slime Kingdom simply wanted to use them to temporarily harass the Goblin Army.

Chen Yu didn't say anything. Of course he knew what the anvil was thinking, and he also knew that they alone could not possibly fight against the well-equipped goblins in the fortress.

But he has a secret weapon.

Judging by the timeline, Goblin Ripper should have already been rebuilt.

(End of this chapter)