Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God-Chapter 108 - 93: Who Approves? Who Disagrees?_2

"Very good, starting now, assemble the army. No exceptions—not even women and children. Tomorrow morning, we dine in Blackwell Tribe," commanded the Dog Demon, simple and brutal.

Yet, no Goblin Chief dared to disobey, each responding in turn before turning to run inside, each faster than a rabbit. They needed to use the utmost speed to get away from this devil before them.

As for thoughts of escape?

If their adversary were an ordinary Zuo Lang, these Goblin Chiefs might dare to consider it, using their superior numbers to scatter in all directions and become untraceable.

But the problem was that their opponent was a Dog Demon, a shadowless and traceless beast, able to blink in and out of existence; they wouldn’t dare entertain such twisted thoughts.

They feared that, in the end, the beast would target them, the leaders, as its meal.

Especially one Goblin Chief who tried to shirk his duties, only to have his head bitten off and his body shredded to pieces by the Dog Demon. After it was eaten, their enthusiasm skyrocketed.

Not sure if it was just an illusion, but those Goblin Chiefs seemed to see a hint of regret in the Dog Demon’s amber eyes, as if it was regretting not having the opportunity to eat a few more because they were all so obedient.

Driven by the Goblin Chiefs, the miners from the Spirit Crystal Mine emerged from the mine shaft, flocking by nest and tribe, clustering together in groups to the east and west.

Goblin Chiefs are usually the smarter ones among the Goblin. The rest don’t think at all; upon hearing they were going to assault the food-laden Blackwell Tribe, they howled with excitement.

Especially when the Goblins from Spirit Crystal Mine gradually assembled, those Goblin Chiefs grew increasingly excited.

Because the number of Goblins in the Spirit Crystal Mine turned out to be much larger than they had imagined, nearly two thousand strong, they crowded the small valley where the mine was located, almost filling it to capacity.

If they could join forces with the Wolf Race army that the Dog Demon was gathering, they really did have a chance to take down the Blackwell Tribe in one swift campaign.

Especially as they moved en masse toward the Blackwell Tribe, their force was still growing.

Goblin Tribes along the way that hadn’t yet joined the Spirit Crystal Mine, upon hearing of their assault on Blackwell Tribe and seeing their formidable scale, couldn’t help but trail behind to see if there were any spoils to be had. If they saw a glimmer of victory, they would undoubtedly join the battle—this was in the very nature of Goblins—to bully the weak and fear the strong.

The Dog Demon wasn’t idle either, leading his Zuo Lang guards on a continuous howling march, attracting a pack of wild wolves, which soon numbered forty or fifty. Even if most of these wild wolves were of the most common breed, their combat strength was nonetheless formidable; taking down a Goblin was as easy as drinking water.

By the time they arrived outside the Blackwell Tribe, the Dog Demon’s personal guard had grown to a hundred strong, circling menacingly around the Goblin Army.

To put it nicely, they were an outer guard.

To put it harshly, they were like military supervisors; any stragglers were harassed by those wild wolves, and a few unfortunate souls, having fallen too far behind, were outright dragged down and devoured by a few hungry wild wolves.

The Dog Demon didn’t care about this at all. If not for prioritizing the mission given by that "great one," he couldn’t help but pick out a few strong ones to eat first. He had to keep telling himself not to rush, just to wait a little longer.

In a moment, a great battle would ensue, and the battlefield would be littered with corpses. According to the "great one’s" nature, he probably wouldn’t mind if the Dog Demon ate some of the Goblin corpses.

"Great Leader, should we not discuss tactics..." ventured a Goblin Chief who considered himself clever, trotting forward with some advice to offer.

But before he could finish, the Dog Demon bit off his head with a crunch and swallowed it, revealing a hideous grin on its ugly face, "No need for tactics. You just need to charge forward without regard for your lives. No retreating without my orders, howl..."

The surrounding wolves also joined in with a chorus of long howls, sounding the charge for this war.

"Charge... into the Blackwell Tribe... all the food, it’s all ours."

"The Gnolls don’t dare to come out. The food is ours, charge, charge, charge!"

"Kill, exterminate the Gnolls, take their food..."

The passive defenses of the Blackwell Tribe further inflated the Goblin Army’s brazen morale, especially the sight of supply carts stacked halfway up the mountain, igniting their boundless greed.

The current Blackwell Tribe was noticeably different from before.

They were no longer confined to the plot of land at the mouth of Blackwell; instead, at the entrance to the mountain depression, in a narrow area, they had built a wall made of dirt and rock.

The wall wasn’t tall, just over two meters; a slightly taller human could climb it with a running start. But to the Goblins, who were only half as tall as humans, it was an insurmountable barrier.

Atop the wall, countless flat-headed Gnolls were peering out, ready for battle, clearly well-prepared; yet their numbers were far fewer than expected, at best two or three hundred.

Faced with a force ten times their size, terror was evident on the Gnolls’ faces. Some, new to battle, were shaking so hard that they used their Long Spears just to stay upright.

This sight further stimulated the Goblin Army, exciting them even more as they waved their crude weapons and shrieked, launching an assault.