The slave camp still had many eyes watching. To avoid exposure, Kane, after hearing the trial's contents, forcefully suppressed the storm of emotions raging in his heart, quickly dispersed all the believers, and only left Little John to take care of Anvil who needed rest.

The shack temporarily returned to silence.

Little John looked at the still ferocious scars on Anvil's body, his small face filled with self-blame.

"Uncle, it's all my fault, if it weren't for me..."

Anvil extended his broad, rough hand, gently patted the little boy's head, forced out a smile, and said in a low, rumbling voice, "Nonsense. You, kid, are clearly my lucky star. If you weren't here, I might have really fallen asleep for good."

"Besides, we were the ones who told you to go out. You don't need to blame yourself."

He paused, his voice softening even further.

"You should go back first. Your uncle is a bit tired and wants to rest alone for a while."

"But your injuries..."

"No 'buts'. Be good, go back." Anvil's tone was gentle but brooked no argument.

Little John hesitated for a moment, but ultimately nodded obediently and left the shack, looking back over his shoulder with every few steps.

After confirming the little boy had left, the exhaustion on Anvil's face was instantly replaced by a complex mix of anticipation and caution.

He took a deep breath and recalled the words left by that soft, glutinous voice during his fading consciousness – "When no one is around, knock three times on the rock wall behind you, and I will respond to you."

With a measure of awe and much more uncertainty, he did as instructed.

His knuckles rapped against the rough, cold rock, producing three dull "thump, thump, thump" sounds that echoed in the cramped shack before fading into silence.

Anvil's heart tightened, feeling somewhat apprehensive.

He was actually quite clear that the life-saving warm flow and the so-called "knowledge" were definitely not blessings from the Corrupted God Morgul.

That feeling was more tangible, more like some unknown faction within the dungeon had intervened to save him.

Furthermore, this faction not only knew secret knowledge like the "Corruption Trial" but could also infiltrate the heavily guarded Obsidian Mining Area undetected... its level of mystery and fearsomeness was beyond imagination.

But did he have any other choice?

With his current broken body and desperate situation, whatever happened next, even if it meant making a deal with a demon and selling his soul, couldn't be worse than being enslaved to death like livestock like this.

Just as Anvil's mind was filled with chaotic thoughts, the shadow-cloaked rock wall in front of him seemed to... come alive.

The shadow began to writhe unnaturally like viscous ink, as if a master of shadows was about to step out from the eternal darkness to meet this pitiful slave, bearing commands that could not be refused or harsh conditions.

Anvil held his breath, his pupils contracting slightly, awaiting the judgment of fate.

Then, he saw the writhing darkness slowly coalesce and transform, finally forming two round, chubby shadows.

Next, the shadows receded, revealing the jelly-like gel bodies beneath.

Sli... Slimes?!

This weathered dwarf warrior, who had witnessed the fall of his homeland and the death of his clansmen, now wore an expression as bewildered as a dwarf infant just out of the cradle.

No matter how he tried, he couldn't have imagined that the mysterious, fearsome "dungeon faction envoy" who had pulled him back from the clutches of death, the one he had envisioned, would turn out to be two... Slimes.

Or were they puppets under a mage's charming spell?

Anvil's Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to make his voice sound calm and full of respect.

"Uh... Greetings, two Slime Envoys?"

Nanny Brother hopped directly onto his open palm, its soft, bouncy body wobbling slightly.

Immediately after, that soft, glutinous voice he had heard while near death sounded directly in his mind.

"Greetings, dwarf. We are from the Slime Kingdom of the Eastern Swamp."

Eastern Swamp? Slime... Kingdom?

Anvil was completely stunned. The massive influx of information assaulted his inherent understanding, making him feel an absurd sense that the world had evolved rapidly without his knowledge, leaving him forgotten in this mine pit.

It was hard to imagine how the words "Slime" and "Kingdom" could be combined.

"Ahem," Anvil coughed dryly twice, struggling to find his voice, trying to make the conversation seem somewhat normal. "Two Envoys of the Slime Kingdom... thank you for saving me. But I imagine your esteemed Kingdom didn't go to such trouble just to save one dwarf slave, right?"

The Slime in his palm bounced lightly, as if expressing dissatisfaction, while a feeling of "haughtiness" was transmitted over.

"Of course not! Our King dislikes these noisy, filthy green-skins! He dislikes his mine being occupied by these inferior creatures even more!"

The corner of Anvil's mouth twitched slightly. He very much wanted to remind this "haughty" envoy that this obsidian vein originally belonged to their Copperfire Dwarf Clan.

But he swallowed the words... the clan was long gone, now only he remained.

Mine ownership... let whoever wants it take it.

Except for those damned green-skins, of course!

As long as he could regain freedom and overthrow the Goblin Army, he didn't mind becoming the blade for any faction, even if it was one that sounded utterly unreliable... a Slime Kingdom.

But the problem was, this Slime Kingdom... could it really pull it off?

He tried to construct a mental image of a group of Slimes hopping and charging at the Goblin Army... no matter how he pictured it, the outcome seemed to end with the Slimes being squashed into puddles of jelly by the goblins' big feet.

The Slime in his palm seemed to sense his doubt, puffed out its little belly, and transmitted an even more arrogant feeling.

"Hmph! The greatness and power of the Kingdom are beyond your imagination."

Anvil shook his head, dispersing those absurd images.

No matter what, this was the only opportunity before him.

He asked in his rumbling voice, his tone becoming solemn.

"Please, Envoy, enlighten me. What should I... what should we do?"

"It's simple. Didn't we already tell you the method?"

"In four days, a Magical Tide will impact the mining area. Seize the chaos to conduct the Corruption Trial. At that time, the Kingdom's army will coordinate with you, striking from within and without to overthrow the rule of those green-skins."

"Magical Tide?"

Anvil's heart tightened, but he was more concerned about another issue.

"What if... what if the Goblin Army has reinforcements?"

The Slime's reply was crisp and straightforward, even a bit matter-of-fact: "Then run away."

Completely occupying this mining area at this stage wasn't realistic and would constantly face threats from the army.

It was better to first cultivate a slave proxy army within the dungeon, conducting guerrilla harassment against those goblins from time to time, which was absolutely better than holding a fixed position stubbornly.

Anvil fell into thought.

This Slime envoy's train of thought, although sounding somewhat... unconventional, upon careful consideration, was extremely pragmatic and shrewd, not blindly impulsive at all.

This made him unconsciously raise his estimation of this "Slime Kingdom" by several notches.

After pondering for a moment, this hardened dwarf who had experienced many hardships suddenly showed a hint of awkwardness that didn't match his demeanor at all, and his voice lowered a bit.

"That, respected Envoy, there's another very practical problem."

He scratched his head with a simple and honest expression. "Might I ask... does your esteemed Kingdom have any food?"

"If we don't eat our fill, we have no strength. Forget beating those damned green-skins, I'm afraid Kane and the others might not even survive the trial..."

Uh... that was indeed a problem.

Chen Yu, observing secretly, also realized this point.

Plans and courage alone, without food, were all empty talk.

But even the landlord's house had no surplus grain. The Moss Monsters in the territory were almost insufficient for the Poison-stinger Wasps to chew on, and he was eagerly counting on being able to trade for food with the Dryad territory.

Looking at it this way, opening a passage to the Dryad territory for trade was an urgent matter right now.

"N... no mere food problem. You wait."

Nanny Brother jumped to the ground, picked up Chubby One, and left.

The two Slimes finally made their way back to the Obsidian Outpost along the original route. Chen Yu immediately sprang into action.

He gathered the Magical Creature Army, patrolling energetically around the cave, catching any unlucky earthworms he saw. After working busily for half a day, he equipped all the Beetles guarding the outpost with "Accelerated Digging."

Before nightfall, he finally assembled an "elite" engineering team consisting of fifty Beetles with "Accelerated Digging" Lv.2, and deployed them all into digging the passage towards the Dryad territory.

Chen Yu also personally joined the effort, using locally available materials, continuously casting "Transform Mud to Stone," instantly shaping the excavated soil and rock fragments into neatly formed stone bricks, then mixing them with tough tree roots to quickly build sturdy channel support structures.

The speed increased significantly.

After struggling through the night, the earthwork at the end of the passage collapsed, revealing an empty poison mist chamber.

Whoo-hoo!

Finally broke through!

Although the final direction deviated slightly from the intended location, this poison mist chamber happened to lead to the dungeon entrance located in the Dryad territory.

Moreover, the poison mist itself was a natural barrier, preventing strange creatures from breaking in here.

For safety's sake, he also set up a Maze Formation in the chamber and built a simple fortress.

After finishing all this, Chen Yu began taking stock of his assets.

Deducting the Talisman consumption needed for maintaining the daily operations of the Magical Creature army, he had roughly about fifteen usable Talismans left in stock.

Each one was immensely valuable, equivalent to a magic scroll. Magic scrolls were explicitly priced at twenty Gold Coins in the human towns' Adventurer's Guild, enough for a family of three to live comfortably for over a year.

In human towns, the standard price for a Draft Animal cart loaded with about 2000 pounds of rye was usually around twenty Gold Coins. If it encountered a Winter Year, it might rise to thirty Gold Coins, or even higher.

And here in the swamp, food was a harder currency than gold coins, and this price would likely need to be doubled or tripled.

That meant, this year, buying a cartload of grain outside the White Horse Kingdom was expected to cost around seventy-five Gold Coins.

This was also why those Kingdom folk would do anything to become Adventurers or merchants, traveling all over the continent – it paid much more than honestly being a farmer.

If they happened to find a magic scroll in a dangerous place, it was enough to live carefreely for a good while.

That unlucky fellow Yano back then, who staked his entire fortune, was trying to profit from this very price difference in grain.

If he had really succeeded, he probably wouldn't have encountered him, let alone received treatment for Petrification Disease.

However, the specific transaction price would depend on the negotiation outcome with the Dryad territory.

Chen Yu estimated that the Dryads might not be very interested in a simple grain trade, unless the price he offered for the Talismans was tempting enough.

Furthermore... the "expert" responsible for this crucial negotiation was Arthur, that honest, even somewhat stubborn, Death Knight.

Oh no.

Why did it feel like, even before starting the negotiations, there was a premonition of losing badly.