My mod ruined the otherworldly art style.

When the goblins heard Dorothy's description,

One by one, their mouths watered, and they looked on with longing.

I also want to try it and see if it's really that delicious.

Unfortunately, ideals and reality are not the same.

Dorothy, possessive of her food, keenly sensed the goblins' unusual movements.

She raised the buzzer and slammed it hard on the ground.

"You scumbags, are your skin still itching for a beating?"

"Now that you've finished praying, go outside the cave and chop wood."

"I, the Queen, will build palaces and camps to protect the divinely bestowed snacks."

This unreasonable demand,

This deeply aggravated the goblins' fragile nerves.

They glanced at the ore in their hands by the firelight.

It seems like this thing can't be used to cut down trees, except for combat and mining.

So how do you build a palace and base? Do you just gnaw on it?

The most stubborn goblin, unable to come to a conclusion, hesitantly asked Dorothy:

"Your Majesty... are you using a pickaxe to chop down trees?"

"But...but it can only break rocks...how can it build a beautiful house?"

Dorothy, who was being questioned, became furious and embarrassed.

She led the goblins out of the cave, pointed at a large tree, and said with exasperation:

"Idiot! Isn't a big tree just a rock that sleeps standing up?"

As she spoke, she waved the buzzer in her hand to demonstrate.

"See, just knock it horizontally, okay? Doro!"

The words had barely left his mouth when the buzzing stick slammed into the tree trunk with a loud thud.

A piece of book cover and a tree trunk were smashed off with great force, forming a C-shaped notch.

After a few more blows, the entire tree began to tilt and fall to one side.

This caused a large number of birds and animals to fly around, and the ground was filled with cartoon-themed smoke.

Dorothy, having retracted her buzzing stick, snorted coldly, jumped onto the palanquin, and looked down at the goblins with disdain.

"Hmph, see that? A bunch of useless trash."

"If you ask me such a stupid question again, then you can go and eat tree bark for dinner."

The goblins, having been taught a lesson by Dorothy,

He glanced at the pickaxe in his hand, then at the fallen tree on the ground.

My head was filled with shock and confusion.

Although they had never cut down trees, something just felt off.

At this moment, the stubborn goblin's eyes lit up. He slammed his fist on his palm and explained to the other goblins:

"I...I understand..."

"What Your Majesty means is that knocking horizontally is like chopping down a tree, and knocking vertically is like mining."

"As expected, Her Majesty the Queen is very knowledgeable and talented."

Upon hearing this explanation, the other goblins all showed expressions of admiration.

Why didn't they think of that?

It turns out that mining equipment is multifunctional, and Her Majesty the Queen herself has verified it.

You could even say that cutting down trees is definitely easier than mining.

After all, the ore is really hard.

Having figured this out, the 99 miner goblins were filled with fighting spirit.

They spat on the palm of my hand, then wielded their mining tools and began the logging operation.

Suddenly, the forest was filled with a dense, knocking sound.

Each goblin was working up a sweat.

Although they are not as powerful as Dorothy, the attributes granted by level two...

This also meant they were far superior to human lumberjacks who had no class distinctions.

The efficiency of felling trees is quite fast.

In dimensions unseen by them, the experience points and emotional power gained from the misuse of tools are slowly accumulating.

Waiting for the day when it breaks free from its cocoon and becomes a butterfly.

At the same moment, several pack animals galloped wildly along the official road paved with moonstone.

Horseshoes sparkled in the night.

Inside the carriage, the caravan members, still shaken, wrapped themselves in blankets, and the conversation inevitably turned to their strange encounters during the day.

The female guard stroked the patterns on the sword hilt, her voice trembling slightly:

"Oh dear, that's terrifying!"

"When I caught a glimpse of the 'Trembling Ruler' above that pink-haired monster's head, my legs went weak!"

(Fear +3)

The other team members chimed in, "Yeah, what kind of monster is this? The labels are even forming a waterfall!"

"This is absolutely outrageous." (Fear +15)

Their chatter attracted the attention of the old coachman, who, while puffing on his pipe, couldn't help but cough violently.

"Cough cough cough..."

"Kids, aren't you focusing on the wrong thing?"

"That colored label is the most important thing."

The old coachman, flicking the ash from his cigarette, explained earnestly:

"Anything involving gods, demons, or ancient alchemists can cause bloodshed and chaos."

"I wonder what the future holds for our town..."

(Cognitive shock +2.5)

The old driver's heartfelt words silenced the boisterous caravan.

They also knew the seriousness of the situation.

The town, which has been peaceful for 20 years, is about to become less peaceful.

At this moment, the bearded man, who was leading the team, stepped forward and began to encourage everyone:

"Alright, alright, there's no need for everyone to look so gloomy."

"As long as we do our jobs well, someone will take care of that pink-haired monster."

"Instead of worrying about this and that, let's think about how to proceed with our business."

(Sadness +2.0)

After being comforted by the captain, the people's excited emotions obviously calmed down a bit.

The only sounds in the entire convoy were the hooves, wheels, and the collision of gravel.

Bathed in the purple moonlight, the silhouette of a town in the distance appeared and disappeared.

It was a remote mining town shrouded in sulfurous fumes, nestled in rugged mountains.

The dark blue-green stone city walls were low and rough.

The wall surface is embedded with the cold, hard reflection of slag crystals.

The speeding convoy stopped in front of the low city gate, staring at the large characters above the main entrance: [Iron Rock City].

The weight that had been hanging over me was finally lifted.

Suddenly, a loud shout came from the city wall:

"Who dares to trespass into Ironclad City at night?! State your identities, purpose, and origin, or arrows will fly without eyes!"

Some soldiers wearing worn-out wrought iron armor and carrying wooden bows and arrows emerged from the city wall.

The arrows, gleaming with a cold light, were aimed at the convoy below.

It seemed poised to unleash a barrage of arrows at a single command.

Seeing the critical situation,

The caravan leader raised his hands and decisively stepped forward to identify himself.

"Hey, is that Walker? It's me, Calvin!"

"Quickly open the city gates and let us in."

On the city wall, a burly guard with burn scars on his neck leaned out.

The old leather armor stretched taut over his bulging chest muscles, and the cuffs of the guard uniform were stretched taut by his thick arms.

He asked with some doubt, "Calvin?"

"You old slag heist, still alive? How come you're a day ahead of schedule?"

Walker's booming voice, like a copper bell, resounded directly into the convoy.

Many people instinctively covered their ears, marveling at the other person's loud voice.

"Walker! Your voice is still so loud!"

"Enough with the nonsense, let's open the city gates first. We were robbed on the way."

"If it weren't for my quick thinking, the caravan would probably have been wiped out there."

Calvin, picking at his ear, offered an impatient explanation.

This caused the soldiers guarding the city wall to exchange glances and begin whispering among themselves.

After all, this trade route hasn't been dangerous for 20 years.

The fact that the caravan has been attacked indicates that peace will no longer be possible.