Perhaps the poor quality food was truly difficult to swallow, or perhaps it was to distract himself from thinking too carefully about what exactly he had just consumed.

Kane turned around and lowered his voice as he asked Anvil, who was still silently gnawing on his black bread, "Was there any other information in the divine grace, such as prophecies or instructions?"

He paused, his voice carrying the heavy weight of reality, "Anvil, you know we've been imprisoned here for years. We can't even eat our fill, our former skills have long grown rusty. Passing the trial won't be that simple."

Anvil remained silent for a moment, his rough fingers unconsciously tightening around the hard bread.

He struggled internally, hesitating whether to reveal the truth that it was Slimes behind this rather than Morgul.

But in the end, he abandoned the thought.

For no other reason than because the truth of the "Slime Kingdom" was too absurd and bizarre. Even he himself would find it hard to believe if he hadn't experienced it personally.

In comparison, "divine grace," though vague and elusive, was actually easier for these people struggling in despair to grasp onto as a sliver of hope.

He raised his eyes, trying to make his tone sound confident, and said in a muffled voice, "Don't worry, Kane. The god has revealed the path. We just need to prepare ourselves to welcome the Magical Tides three days from now. As for the rest... leave it to me."

Truthfully, he wasn't very confident himself, and even felt some concern that those Slimes might never return, or get squashed into paste by the dungeon's terrifying Magical Creatures on their way here.

Kane looked at his old friend's evasive eyes. He knew Anvil—this Dwarf was honest and loyal, but not good at lying.

He knew Anvil was definitely hiding something, but he didn't press further, just silently nodded.

He had been with this honest Dwarf for several years now and understood his character and story.

Someone who was willing to endure torture and nearly beaten to death to protect children deserved his trust.

If Anvil chose not to speak, he must have his reasons.

Kane patted Anvil's shoulder without saying anything more, then got up and left the shack.

Left alone, Anvil rubbed his still empty and sour stomach, sitting on the cold dry grass as he stared blankly at the rock wall.

The hunger gnawed at his will like a persistent disease.

He couldn't help but recall the seemingly unreliable promise from the Slime Envoy, unconsciously licking his dry, cracked lips as his thoughts began to drift.

In his daze, he seemed to return to the warm, sturdy stone hall of Blackrock Bastion, back to nights celebrating with his clansmen after surviving yet another difficult Winter Year.

Under the soft candlelight, freshly baked roast chicken emitted a charred aroma, its skin golden and crispy, garnished with a few sprigs of rosemary.

He sat at the long wooden table, thickly spreading high-quality butter on still-warm toasted bread, accompanied by a few pieces of savory goat cheese and thoroughly stewed chickpeas.

Glass after glass of cold ale was drunk until his whole body felt warm and his vision grew blurry, finally collapsing contentedly beside the table, muttering "another glass" as his consciousness gradually sank into darkness...

Anvil fell into a deep sleep filled with hunger and this brief, illusory comfort.

Perhaps in his dreams, his stomach wouldn't feel so terrible.

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

Just then, a faint rustling sound, barely audible, came from within the rock wall and reached Anvil's ears.

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

Suddenly he jolted awake, his half-closed eyelids snapping wide open as he instantly remembered the Slime Envoy's promise. He immediately looked toward the section of rock wall where the noise was coming from.

With his Darkvision, he could clearly see that section of rock wall shedding dust.

Then the movement grew louder as the hard rock wall was slowly chiseled inward, revealing an opening.

Learning from last time's experience, Chubby One had clearly gotten smarter, first making the opening large enough for its round body to pass through easily.

Soon, the two little ones came bouncing down.

"Honored Envoys, you've come?"

Anvil instinctively swallowed, and his empty stomach immediately betrayed him with an embarrassing gurgle.

Nanny Brother skillfully jumped onto his open palm, puffed out its little belly, and said proudly and triumphantly:

"Indeed, we have brought food."

As soon as the words were spoken, the two Beetles following behind cooperatively pushed a large, still slightly steaming tuber crop out from the hole. It fell to the ground with a thud, rolled a few times, and stopped at Anvil's feet.

Anvil carefully picked up the tuber. It felt warm to the touch, its outer layer seemingly roasted, carrying a charred aroma.

He tore open the slightly burnt skin, and the paste-like fragrance of plant starch instantly assaulted his nostrils, like an enchanting little fairy teasing his nose.

He could no longer resist, opening his mouth wide to take a big bite, then practically devoured it ravenously, looking as if he hadn't eaten for centuries.

"Th-thank you, Slime Envoys..."

He mumbled indistinctly, his mouth stuffed so full that he choked after just a few bites, his face turning red as he could only pound his chest forcefully.

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

Look how starved this child has become.

These Goblins really aren't human.

The Beetle timely offered clear water held in large, clean leaves.

Anvil took it, gulped it down in one go, let out a long sigh of relief, then continued devouring the precious food.

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

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

Delicious food, clean water, the simple, pure feeling of fullness... things he had long stopped daring to hope for were now truly filling his body.

At this moment, this weathered Dwarf man's heart was filled with indescribable gratitude.

He even felt that if the Slime Envoys asked him to single-handedly fight a Bugbear right now, he would charge forward without hesitation.

"Delicious... so delicious..."

While wiping away tears and snot, he said indistinctly, "Thank the Kingdom... thank the Slime King..."

Hmph, of course it's delicious.

Although Chen Yu didn't recognize what kind of tuber this was, once roasted and sprinkled with some Salt, it tasted pretty much like roasted potatoes—fragrant and delicious.

Not to mention it was as big as a taro, extremely filling.

Munching through it would provide enough energy to work all day.

"Don't just eat vegetables, have some meat too."

The two Beetles then carried down a crisply roasted Moss Monster.

As soon as Anvil smelled the meaty aroma—perhaps fearing discovery, or perhaps driven by extreme hunger—he took it and immediately stuffed it into his mouth, chewing vigorously.

The richness of the fat and the uniquely crispy texture of the Moss Monster's skin exploded in his mouth, making his eyes widen instantly with disbelief.

"De... delicious!"

Of course it's delicious.

Chen Yu was extremely satisfied.

Their "Moss Monster Enthusiasts Association" had finally gained another member—a cause for celebration.

Chen Yu didn't let him eat too much;

suddenly overeating after prolonged hunger wasn't good for the body. Seventy percent full was enough, but even that made Anvil feel incredibly satisfied.

He rubbed his slightly bulging belly, a happy, honest smile appearing on his face.

After feeling satisfied, Anvil hesitated for a moment before carefully asking, "Honored Envoy, may I share some of this food with my companions? Kane and the others..."

Nanny Brother wobbled slightly, conveying permission.

"Of course, all who wish to resist the Goblin tyranny are friends of the Slime Kingdom. The Kingdom will not let its warriors fight on empty stomachs."

"Remember, when you need food, knock three times on the rock wall. We will provide as much as we can."

"Tomorrow, give me the list of believers willing to accept the 'trial.' I will provide them with necessary assistance to ensure the plan proceeds smoothly."

Anvil was momentarily stunned, then said in a muffled voice, "Envoy, don't worry. I've already prepared myself to die."

His tone was calm, not at all believing he could survive the rebellion.

Even if some believers could pass the trial and gain power, facing hundreds of well-equipped Goblins in the fortress offered pitifully slim chances of success.

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

Chen Yu didn't say anything. Of course he knew what Anvil was thinking, and he also knew they couldn't possibly stand against the well-equipped Goblins in the fortress with their current strength.

But he still had his secret weapon.

Calculating the time, the Goblin Ripper should have finished reconstructing by now.