"Ugh...", a goblin muttered as he untangled himself from the sheets and sat on the edge of his wooden bed. The rays of sunlight, slipping in uninvited through the window, forced him to stretch awake.
Urk looked at the breakfast on the small table in his house and sighed.
"Lepegis and a glass of yak milk..."
It didn't taste bad, but the repetition was starting to wear on him. Even so, he picked up the wriggling larva on the plate and muttered mechanically:
"Thank you, Divine Eagle, for the food."
Then he swallowed it in one bite.
As he stepped outside, the air of the village was already alive with activity. Urk slung his pickaxe over his shoulder and joined the flow of bodies leaving the wooden houses: minotaurs carrying construction tools, pigmen, and goblins. Some headed to their posts; others gathered at the "stop."
Soon, the transport arrived: a massive Green Pig pulling a wooden cart with wheels. The doors opened, and Urk climbed aboard along with a crowd of goblins. There were no seats, only wooden rails to hold onto and avoid being thrown off by the bumps.
After a rough, jostling ride, Urk handed some coins to the driver's assistant and got off in front of the mine.
The sun stood high in the sky when the group of miners stopped to rest deep within the blue cave.
"Who was the genius that named these worms the same as the damn rock we're mining?" one goblin complained, kicking a chunk of Lepegis ore while chewing on a larva of the same name.
"Damn it, I'm sick of this," grumbled another goblin, fatter and stronger. "Lepegis in the morning, at noon, and at night... I can't even remember what real meat tastes like anymore."
"Tsk... stop complaining. It's better than eating nothing," a third replied, wiping his mouth. "I've got it worse. Yak milk is a luxury for me. I've been saving every Var for months to buy that runic medicine, hoping I can awaken my mana and get out of here."
"If you want to complain about something, complain about the women," a younger goblin cut in. "I'd give all my money just to taste one. But the few there are only look at mages or aura users."
"Mph... even they don't have it easy now," another added. "I heard the most beautiful ones are fighting to marry Lord César's sons. Those hybrids are leaving us with nothing."
A collective sigh passed through the group.
"In the past, at least you could mate with a captured beast... now nothing. No female would even look at those of us at the bottom."
"Hey, old man...", one mumbled with his mouth full. "You're the oldest here... tell us how it was before. They say that before Lord César, meat was plentiful and people ate it every day."
Even Urk, who had remained quiet, perked up his ears.
The old goblin didn't answer immediately. He chewed his Lepegis slowly, as if savoring something far more valuable, and his gaze drifted into the distance, lost in old memories.
He licked his dry lips before speaking.
"I served under the previous Goblin King, Lord César's father."
Everyone looked at him with shining eyes, imagining a golden age.
"Yes... there was meat. And when there were no women... we used beasts."
He paused.
"But... we didn't always eat. To get that meat, we had to fight massive beasts, and we died by the dozens. Sometimes we came back empty-handed, our stomachs clinging to our spines. When we succeeded, only the strong ate; the weak killed each other for scraps."
His voice grew rougher.
"We were trash. Savages. We didn't even care about reading or writing; we forgot how, because the only thing that mattered was surviving one more day."
The younger goblins fell silent. They couldn't imagine such a world.
A world where you didn't need to know how to read to count your money or buy food.
The old goblin sighed.
"So stop complaining, youngsters. Even if only a few of us have become mages compared to the other races in the village, we're still better off than before. Lord César gave us order... and order fills your stomach, even if it's with worms."
He stood up with a groan, picking up his shovel.
"Stop slacking and get back to work."
They all reacted instantly. They swallowed the last bits of Lepegis and returned to their labor, driving their pickaxes into the blue stone once more.