The Lich of Glory Knight Spirit: Moving towards Krimasha! -
Chapter 299 - 38: Jones’s Trouble_2
Chapter 299: Chapter 38: Jones’s Trouble_2
Maybe it’s because I’ve been around Gray for too long, Lord Jones unknowingly developed a certain aversion to those dark-themed terms. Especially when it came to betrayal—if he committed it, could he ever return to the Silver Moon Knight Order?
He couldn’t refuse to side with Adelle; he still owed Adelle money.
At the same time, he couldn’t refuse to side with Adolf; otherwise, the dwarves’ promised freedom from the smelting factory wouldn’t be fulfilled. That would mean a betrayal of so many people at once.
Even as the sunlight reached Giant Snake City, Jones still couldn’t figure out the answer to this dilemma.
...
The next day was yet another "ordinary" day in Giant Snake City.
The armor sent off as samples had long been retrieved. Jones donned the armor and threw himself back into the grand task of building up Giant Snake City once more.
The mining pits had already been dug, and some gold ore had even been excavated, piled up in a makeshift warehouse nearby. The smelting factory would soon be operational. Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion—Giant Snake City was about to enter its profitable phase. And yet, Jones couldn’t find it in himself to feel happy about it.
"What’s the matter with you? Did something happen?" Barrel asked.
"Nothing, just dealing with some... complicated thoughts," Jones replied.
"Does it have anything to do with our Giant Snake City?"
"You could say it does, and you could also say it doesn’t."
"Hmm... then I’ll just assume it doesn’t. If it doesn’t matter, why waste your time agonizing over it? What could possibly be more important than Giant Snake City?" Barrel laughed heartily and took a big swig from his drink.
Jones gave Barrel a helpless look. He suddenly thought, perhaps most of the truly significant matters in this world were really quite simple. Building a city-state from nothing, for example. Or going to war. Building a city-state was nothing more than putting in the effort to get everything done right, while war was simply about defeating your opponent. What complicated things were people.
If you had a straightforward goal, even if the goal seemed vast, as long as you worked hard day after day, you’d eventually reach it. It was like that fool back in Salted Fish Port—he simplified everything, stuck to the things worth sticking to, and surprisingly made it work. On the other hand, so many clever people often accomplished nothing.
Take the countless Blood Clan Lords on the Kolin Peninsula, for example—they were always mired in trivial, meaningless affairs, day in and day out, year after year.
Humans were just too complicated. Put a few of them together, and they’d find a way to stir up trouble, wasting everyone’s time and energy instead of attending to what truly matters.
Jones had to admit he was fortunate enough that his Giant Snake City was simple enough. Every person here was simple. The dwarves only wanted a simple life and their freedom. Jones only wanted to build the city to prove himself. Even the land was simple—it was barren. Only in these straightforward circumstances, with straightforward people, could great things be accomplished.
"Yes, that’s it!" Jones encouraged himself. "From now on, until I become a great Blood Clan Lord, I won’t concern myself with anything else! That’s it!"
After shouting that aloud, Jones instantly felt reinvigorated and threw himself back into his work.
A few dwarves resting nearby with their pickaxes stared at him blankly, looking utterly baffled.
...
A newly opened mine left endless tasks to be done, not to mention Jones’s ultimate aim—to construct a grand and thriving city-state!
Jones bustled about from top to bottom, and amid all this, he made time to head south for a look at the Goblin Kingdom.
What he saw was a barren desert wasteland with arid yellow earth and scattered patches of withered wild grass. There was a city of notable size—if it could even be called a city.
A "city wall" about three meters tall was cobbled together from dirt and wood. The wood was already rotting, and the dirt appeared loose and crumbly, as if it would collapse with a gentle push. The wood embedded in the dirt only served to keep the shape. Without the wood, they’d only manage to pile up a sloped mound rather than a vertical wall.
Did such a wall really serve any purpose?
Jones couldn’t help but question it.
The city walls formed a square, about three kilometers in width on each side—not small, by any measure. But within those walls, the city painted a rather awkward picture. Without prior knowledge that this was the Goblin Kingdom, any passerby might very well overlook it altogether.
The goblin houses bore some resemblance to those of dwarves—dome-shaped mounds rising from the ground. The difference lay in the workmanship, which was frankly terrible. Coupled with their smaller stature than even the dwarves, the domes weren’t tall enough, nor were they properly formed. A haphazard cluster of these misshapen spheres formed the city. Under the moonlight, from an aerial perspective, it looked like a stretch of uneven yellow earth. Adding to this were the randomly placed doors—some even opening onto the roofs. If one noticed the dwellings, at a glance, they’d likely think they were looking at an enormous field of mole burrows.
Truth be told, they did look like moles. Even more so than dwarves—there was no semblance of "civilization" to speak of.
The city’s only exception was a so-called "fortress" at its center. This, presumably, was the king’s palace. However, it seemed to be a hollowed-out mountain rather than a constructed building.
From a distance, Jones could see a group of goblins holding torches, patrolling back and forth around the "fortress." Meanwhile, the outer walls were pitch black, with the occasional sentry who seemed to be "off-duty," sprawled on the ground snoring away.
"What do these goblins eat? It doesn’t seem like much could grow here, and there doesn’t appear to be abundant wildlife. How do so many goblins survive here?" Jones asked Dora, who was fluttering nearby.
"Goblins... seem to eat dirt?" Dora replied quietly.
"Dirt? There are creatures in this world that eat dirt?" Jones was stunned.
"They seem able to eat anything. I’ve never interacted with goblins, but my father mentioned it before. They can eat almost anything, including dirt. After eating dirt, their stomachs swell up. Take a look—most goblins have rather big bellies. However, when they eat dirt, they also need to eat an underground toxic mushroom they grow themselves."
"Toxic mushrooms?"
"Yes, after eating them, they get diarrhea and expel the dirt they ate."
"Is this species really that bizarre?" Jones could hardly believe his ears.
If they could survive on dirt alone, goblins would be incredibly easy to maintain. Maybe he should consider bringing a large group of them back—though he still didn’t know how good they were at labor.
Flapping his wings, Jones flew toward the goblin city gate.
"Lord Jones, where are you going?"
"I’m going to meet their king."
With that, Jones landed at the wide-open gate of the Goblin City, with Dora landing beside him.
"Lord Jones, visiting this late... isn’t that improper? Goblins aren’t entirely nocturnal creatures."
"But we are nocturnal. Should I wear armor to meet them?" Reaching the gate, Jones called out loudly, "Anyone there? Could you open the gate? I’d like to see your king!"
The desert wind gently blew, rustling the wild grass at his feet.
No response. Not a sound.
Jones had no choice but to shout again, "Hello? Could someone open the gate? I’d like to meet your king. I’m the Blood Clan Lord from the north. I’d like to get to know you! Maybe we could do some business."
After a while, a green face popped out of a grass hut atop the wall.
"Who’s down there? Making such a racket so late at night!"
"I’m the Blood Clan Lord to the north. I’d like to meet your king," Jones repeated reluctantly.
"Why couldn’t you come during the day?"
"I told you, I’m Blood Clan."
"Blood Clan can’t come during the day?"
"You think Blood Clan can?"
"Why can’t Blood Clan come during the day?" the other party earnestly asked. "Don’t you ever sleep at night?"
Jones wore an expression of utter awkwardness, unsure how to even continue the conversation.
After thinking for a long moment, he could only emphasize once more, "In any case, I’d like to meet your king—may I?"
"That’s me," the green face replied.
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