Chapter 325 Gentle Steps

But there was no time for sorrow or grieving. They needed to act quickly to save the remaining eggs before they became too cold. Hermit, wiping away his tears, took charge again.

 "We must start the fire and heat this place," he instructed, his voice filled with urgency. 

They split into two teams. One team, led by Hermit, rushed to gather dry wood for the fire. The other team hurried to the small well, pulling up buckets of water as fast as their exhausted bodies would allow. Hermit and his team scavenged every nook and cranny for dry wood, their movements swift and desperate. With arms full of wood, they returned to the hatchery and threw the sticks into the fireplace. Hermit pulled out a rod of flint from his pocket, his hands shaking slightly as he struck sparks. After several tense moments, a spark caught, and the wood ignited. The small flame quickly grew into a roaring fire as he threw in dry moss.

As the fire roared, heating the rocks surrounding the fireplace, the other team began pouring water onto the hot stones. Steam billowed up, filling the hatchery with a sauna-like heat. The goblins worked tirelessly, sweat pouring down their faces as they carried bucket after bucket of water, ensuring the temperature remained high. The heat and humidity were intense, but it was necessary to recreate the nurturing environment the eggs needed to survive.

Hermit, despite his weariness, kept a close watch on the eggs. He carefully monitored their temperature, ensuring they stayed warm enough to continue developing. The goblins around him worked with a fervor born of desperation and hope. Each action, every movement, was done with the future of their kin in mind.

As the fire crackled and the steam filled the room, Hermit glanced at the eggs nestled in the mounds of filth. Despite the overwhelming odds, they had managed to create a haven for their future kin. 

Hermit, feeling the warmth of the fire and the steam around him, allowed himself a small smile. 

"We did it," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

 "We saved them."

The goblins around him nodded, their faces reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and relief. With eggs taken care of next, they scoured the ruins of the breeding farm, searching for anything that could be of use to them. The goblins limped and shuffled through the debris, their eyes scanning for scraps of food and discarded pelts to warm their naked, emaciated forms. Each morsel of food they found was greeted with subdued cheers, and every threadbare pelt was carefully inspected and claimed.

As night fell, casting a blanket of stars over the desolate camp, Suzuka and her team decided to spend the night, recognizing the goblins' desperate need for rest and nourishment.

Suzuka moved through the goblin breeding farm. She and her team scavenged everything that was still useful: any treasures hoarded by the cruel goblin master. The cruel goblin lord had amassed a collection of grotesque trophies and ill-gotten riches, scattered across the darkened chambers. Piles of gold and silver coins, crude jewelry with blood-red gems, and twisted relics were all strewn about. Suzuka and her team meticulously sifted through these items, salvaging what was still useful. They found bags of precious metals and artifacts, some of which would fetch a handsome price.

Meanwhile, the freed goblins and their tiny hatchlings had gathered around a series of campfires. The campfires crackled and popped, sending plumes of smoke up into the twilight sky. The goblins, their faces lit by the warm, flickering flames, began to lay down their pelts and blankets, creating makeshift beds and resting places. They had scavenged what little food they could find from the fallen evil goblins and the remains of the breeding farm. The food was sparse but precious, a meager feast compared to the starvation they had endured.

With gentle, almost reverent care, the goblins placed the scant portions of food in front of the hatchlings. Their tiny, malnourished bodies trembled with anticipation and hunger. The hatchlings, their eyes wide and hopeful, were given the first choice of food. The goblins watched with tender, protective eyes as the hatchlings nibbled at the meager rations, their tiny hands shaking as they clutched the food. It was a moment of pure, untainted joy.

Once the hatchlings were fed and their small bellies were beginning to fill, the goblins dared to take a portion of the food for themselves. They ate slowly, savoring each bite as though it were a precious gift.

As the goblins tasted real food for the first time in their miserable lives, their reactions were heart-wrenching. Tears streamed down their faces as they savored each bite, the flavors a distant memory from a time they had long forgotten. The simple act of eating became a profound experience, one that overwhelmed their frail bodies and battered spirits. One by one, they fell unconscious, their bodies succumbing to the bliss and fatigue, a peaceful expression softening their usually pained features.

As dawn's first light crept over the horizon, Suzuka and her team quietly prepared for the journey back to her lands. The goblins stirred awake, their eyes filled with gratitude and cautious optimism. They packed what little belongings they possessed, carefully securing them onto their hunched backs.

Hermit gathered them together, his voice filled with warmth and encouragement.

"Today, we leave this place of sorrow behind. Together, we will journey to Master Helen's lands, where we will be safe, where we will be free. No more slavery! No more suffering! No more whip! No more, I say! It is a place where we can walk free and be happy! It is!"

The goblins, their hearts swelling with newfound hope, nodded in unison. They formed a ragtag crowd, each one supporting the other as they began their trek. Suzuka led the way, her presence a beacon of strength and compassion.

The goblin slaves moved with a desolate shuffle. Their bodies were covered in filth, caked in layers of grime that spoke of unrelenting neglect and hardship. The stench of their sweat, blood, and excrement was overpowering, a putrid miasma that clung to the air and made breathing difficult. Their skin, once green and vibrant, had turned a sickly shade of grey, marked by deep, open sores and scabs that oozed a vile mix of pus and dirt. Each step they took seemed to be an act of sheer willpower, their bare, puffy feet blistered and cracked, struggling to navigate the uneven, muck-ridden ground.

On their backs, the goblins carried meager belongings - scraps of cloth, broken sticks, and flee-ridden pelts. These pitiful possessions were lashed together with frayed ropes and strips of torn leather, creating a haphazard collection of rags and refuse. The straps dug painfully into their shoulders, adding to their physical torment. Each movement caused the makeshift bundles to sway precariously, causing the wearers to wince and stumble as they struggled under the weight of their scant possessions.

The hatchlings, who were no larger than a goblin palm, were nestled into the cavernous folds of their caretakers' big meaty ears. These ears, once a source of hearing, had become crude nests for the tiny, shivering creatures. This unique feature of the goblins, their oversized ears, acted as natural, comforting cradles for the hatchlings. It was an instinctual act, deeply ingrained in their kind, to use their ears as nests for the youngest and most vulnerable among them.

 The goblins' ears, thick and fleshy, provided a perfect sanctuary. The gentle curve of the ear cradled the hatchlings securely, while the soft, velvety texture offered a comforting touch. As each hatchling was carefully placed into an ear-nest, their tiny bodies relaxed, and their fear began to dissipate. Their small, green bodies snuggled deep into the ear-nests, their miniature fingers gripping the edges as they settled in. The goblins, with their instinctive care, tilted their heads slightly to provide the most secure position, ensuring the hatchlings felt completely safe.

 Their little limbs were weak and frail, barely able to move as they lay huddled together in the filthy ear-nests. Some were so emaciated that their bones jutted out prominently, casting grotesque shadows on their thin, dirty skin.

The goblins themselves were filled with a profound sense of relief and tenderness. As they followed after Suzuka and her team, the hatchlings snug in their ear-nests, they couldn't help but smile through their tears. The feeling of the tiny bodies nestled against their heads was a powerful reminder of their duty to protect and nurture the next generation.

Hermit, with tears in his eyes, looked around at his fellow goblins and the nestled hatchlings.

 "Master Helen," he said, his voice choked with emotion, "thank you for giving us the chance to protect our young. This... this is more than we could have ever hoped for."

Hermit, his heart swelling with joy, carefully positioned a particularly small hatchling in his left ear-nest. The little one, with eyes still wide with residual fear, quickly relaxed against Hermit's warm skin. Hermit gently patted his ear, cooing softly to reassure the hatchling. The sight of the tiny goblin finding comfort in such a grotesque and loving ear-nest was incredibly tender.

Timbo, despite his injuries, insisted on taking a hatchling into his ear-nest. He winced slightly as the little one nestled in, but the pain was worth it for the feeling of responsibility and love that surged through him. The hatchling, sensing Timbo's gentle nature, quickly nuzzled deeper, finding the safety and warmth it desperately needed.

 Hatchlings peeked out from their ear nests, their eyes wide with wonder as they observed the world from their new, elevated positions. The older goblins moved with gentle steps, their puffy soles dampening the shaking, careful not to jostle their precious cargo as they walked through the forest.

The journey was arduous, but the goblins moved with eager hope of a better tomorrow. Along the way, Suzuka and her team continued to care for them, offering water, food, and words of encouragement. They bandaged wounds, carried the weakest on their backs, and shared stories to keep spirits high.