136: Dive into Dragon Island

The Demonic Dragon huddled at the edge of the crowd, its stomach churning as it watched the various strange concoctions boiling in the black, oily cauldron.

Its throat tightened; let alone eating this stuff, just looking at it made it want to vomit.

However, leaving now would be too conspicuous, so it decided to go with the flow, drooping its ears and blending in with the drooling Goblins.

Not long after, the miscellaneous items in the cauldron turned into a thick paste, and an indescribable smell began to waft through the air.

Looking at the black paste in the cauldron, the Demonic Dragon felt a bit of admiration for the Goblin chef. To be able to boil those messy things into a paste was quite a skill.

The Goblins knew the food was ready and immediately gathered around the cauldron.

They wouldn't queue up, each waving their simple containers and clamoring for food.

The female Goblin wielding the large ladle had a fiery temper, sweeping the ladle across the crowd of Goblins.

"Back off! Don't crowd the pot! Anyone who knocks over the cauldron won't get food for a month!"

Many Goblins were struck by the ladle, letting out cries of "Ouch!"

However, after this ordeal, they became much more obedient, moving out of the chef's attack range and eagerly waiting for their food.

Only then did the chef nod in satisfaction and begin to distribute the food one by one.

One by one, the Goblins finished getting their food and left. The Demonic Dragon also wanted to take the opportunity to leave, but it was spotted by the sharp-eyed chef.

"Abas, where are you going? Not eating dinner?"

Hearing this, the Demonic Dragon knew it couldn't escape and turned back, replying:

"I'm going home to get my bowl."

"Come here, I'll lend you mine first. If you wait until you come back, there'll be nothing left."

The Demonic Dragon had no choice but to walk over and take the wooden bowl from the chef.

The chef immediately gave him a full ladle of food and handed him a small wooden stool.

"Hurry and sit down to eat, it won't taste good when it's cold."

The Demonic Dragon was somewhat surprised by the chef's enthusiasm and sat blankly on the wooden stool, staring at the wriggling goo in the bowl, its mouth twitching constantly.

It dared not touch that paste.

The chef quickly finished distributing the remaining paste, then walked behind the Demonic Dragon with an expectant look.

She gently ran her finger across the Demonic Dragon's back, and where her fingertip touched, it felt tingly, giving the Demonic Dragon goosebumps.

"Abas, what have you decided about our matter?"

Her tone carried a rare gentleness, completely unlike the fierce attitude she had while serving food.

"Wh-what matter?"

The Demonic Dragon stammered in response.

"Oh, you know, just our matter~"

The chef's feigned shy expression made the Demonic Dragon's stomach churn.

"Uh... I'll think about it some more, I'll give you an answer tomorrow night."

The Demonic Dragon could only stall for time, trying to muddle through.

"No! You said the same thing yesterday. You have to give me an answer today, no matter what!"

As she spoke, the chef's furry arm was already wrapped around the Demonic Dragon's neck, and her large mouth was getting closer and closer to the Demonic Dragon's cheek.

Feeling the chef's increasingly hot breath on its face, and seeing that Goblin face so close, the Demonic Dragon's expression changed.

It quickly broke free from the restraint, and the wooden bowl in its hand fell to the ground with a "smack," then it left without looking back.

The chef roared furiously behind him:

"Abas! You're an unmanly bitch! If you leave today, don't ever think about eating my cooking again!"

Listening to the chef's curses, the Demonic Dragon momentarily wanted to instantly kill her, but in the end, it held back.

Never mind, she's cursing Abas, not me.

The Demonic Dragon comforted itself internally.

This terrible mission! The sacrifice is too great!

It found another hidden corner to hide in, quietly waiting for the next day.

Early the next morning, the sound of gongs clanging echoed in the center of the settlement. The Goblins reluctantly emerged from their dwellings and began their day of hard labor.

They didn't have breakfast, only two meals a day, with the other meal being around mid-morning (around 9 or 10 AM).

Working on an empty stomach naturally led to low efficiency, and they listlessly dragged out the time.

The Demonic Dragon went directly to the food gathering area. The guards from yesterday quickly greeted it and motioned for him to move the meat.

After a night of refrigeration, the meat still had some ice shards on it.

Besides him, several other Goblins who transported meat were also moving it. The Demonic Dragon imitated them, moving the meat towards a wooden boat by the shore.

And during the process of transporting the meat, occasionally scraps of meat or organs would fall from the main pieces.

These porters would quickly pick them up and shove them into their mouths, not caring about eating them raw.

This reminded the Demonic Dragon of a famous saying—what falls on the ground belongs to the dogs.

And the supervising guards also turned a blind eye, ignoring this behavior of eating scraps.

Transporting meat to Dragon Island was not a good job; one could easily lose their life. Without some perks, these Goblins wouldn't be willing to go.

The Demonic Dragon naturally couldn't appear too out of place. When its "cargo" dropped "parts," it also pretended to be delighted, picking them up and stuffing them into its mouth.

The minced meat was fine; it had eaten plenty of it before. It was just that the taste of some of the organs was indescribable, nearly making it vomit.

Soon, that large pile of meat was successfully transferred to the wooden boats through the efforts of the Goblin porters.

And another type of cargo—"dragon breath fruit"—had already been loaded onto another wooden boat.

The Demonic Dragon was quite curious about this fruit named after Dragon Breath.

It casually strolled over to the fruit storage area and observed them carefully.

These fruits resembled curved ram horns, entirely red, with a very smooth surface, looking delightful.

The Demonic Dragon, when no one was looking, secretly swiped a fruit with its Goblin paw, preparing to taste it.

When all the cargo was ready, the Goblin guards went to inform the Great Elder.

The Great Elder walked out shakily, leaning on his staff.

Each time meat was escorted, the Great Elder would personally oversee it, ensuring the food's safety while also expressing gratitude and loyalty to the Giant Dragons.

After all, his own extraordinary achievement was thanks to the drop of Dragon Blood bestowed by the Giant Dragons.

When everything was ready, over a dozen simple wooden boats slowly sailed towards Dragon Island.

The Demonic Dragon also received a simple oar and, imitating the others, vigorously paddled the wooden boat.

Along the way, there were occasional patrolling Giant Dragons. After merely scanning the fleet, they would fly past.

"I wonder what happened. The adults on Dragon Island have been under strict martial law recently, and the entire Dragon Island is in a state of lockdown."

"It's been so many years since this happened. I remember the last time was during the Undead Scourge, when I was still a young Goblin..."

Any species, once old, likes to reminisce and ramble about the past, and Goblins are no exception.

Amidst its rambling, the wooden boat quickly arrived at Dragon Island.