Chapter 37: Everyone Is Striving!

Leo walked up to the four kobold blacksmiths and asked, “Among you, who is the best at forging?”
The kobold blacksmiths paused their work and stared blankly at Leo. Only when he repeated his question did they all point in unison.
They pointed to Feisha the kobold.
Not just them—other busy kobolds nearby stopped what they were doing and pointed at Feisha as well.
The old kobold shaman, standing to the side, spoke in awkward Imperial, “Feisha, princess, strongest, of all, the best!”
Leo could hardly believe it. “You’re the best at forging?”
Feisha wagged her tail. “Kobold chieftain must be strong, or smart. I, princess, am both strong and smart!”
“If I see it, I can do it.”
Though Feisha was the daughter of the previous kobold chief, by tribal tradition she wasn’t even among the top thirty in the line of succession.
A kobold tribe doesn’t just have one powerful chieftain.
There’s an outstandingly intelligent shaman, a blacksmith inheriting the forging craft, seven or eight hunting squad leaders, and nearly a third of the kobold warriors.
Those with individual strength and influence rank far above bloodline.
For Feisha, a female kobold at a natural disadvantage, to become the tribe’s leader, she had to be far more exceptional than the others.
Of course, the Riverbend Camp played a part in this; after several battles, most of the strong kobold warriors had perished.
The old shaman couldn’t even cast a single fireball, teaching only singing and dancing—a useless fellow.
She hadn’t mentioned it, but even the small clay mound was inspired and added after she visited the Wildfolk tribe by the Great Falls.
Originally, kobold iron smelting didn’t even have a proper furnace—just a muddy pit where iron ore was crushed into powder, shaped into balls, buried in charcoal, and a bonfire was lit atop, burning for three days and nights.
Whether iron beads formed depended entirely on luck.
Simply adding an insulated clay mound doubled the yield.
Moreover, Feisha’s skillful hands produced the sturdiest, most durable iron tools—she was the best blacksmith in the lair.
Her linguistic talent was unmatched, and her courage remarkable; she dared to trade with the Wildfolk and negotiate with formidable humans.
She reorganized the hunting teams, learned human tactics and weapons, rationalized the division of labor so every kobold had a purpose.
She even attempted to build walls in the valley!
If not for these qualities, in a tribe where strength dictated status, how could a female kobold with modest combat prowess become chief?

“You’re really clever—I never would have guessed,” Leo said, genuinely admiring Feisha’s self-praise, with no hint of mockery.
Feisha’s demeanor was nothing like that of a small tribe kobold, and the great changes in the kobold valley were clear to Leo’s eyes.
This black-and-white kobold was obviously a different breed from the golden-haired ones—the intelligence gap was vast.
Even among the Riverbend Camp villagers, few were as smart as her.
After dragging back Freya, who’d been causing chaos in the kobold valley, Leo took one of the kobold blacksmiths with him.
Choosing Feisha was out of the question; he needed her intelligence to keep the tribe in order, lest another hot-headed kobold intent on fighting humans take over.
The kobold blacksmith he brought back barely understood Imperial, making communication with Valery difficult.
Without Feisha’s reassurance, this kobold, full of hostility and fear toward humans, would have fled back to the lair at any moment.
But there was no rush; let the kobold settle in, get used to the human environment, and once the furnace was repaired, they could communicate.
Leo could guarantee that, after a few camp kitchen meals, this kobold blacksmith would be reluctant to leave.
This poor kobold blacksmith knew nothing but forging; the unfamiliar surroundings made him helpless. He sat alone in the camp center, at a loss.
Olivia tried bringing some kobold pups to him for comfort, but the male kobold showed no interest—in fact, he bared his canine teeth and growled threateningly to drive them away.
The kobold pups could only crawl back, whining, to their mothers.
“Why is it that when others cross into a new world, they instantly encounter a dwarven grandmaster blacksmith and bow in worship?”
“Here, not even a ghost shows up. The only half-baked blacksmith can barely make iron ingots—I have to catch a kobold blacksmith myself just to fill the role.”
“Feels like every troublesome matter must be handled personally!”
Leo rested his head on Olivia’s thigh, muttering to himself.
The world he’d crossed into seemed far too realistic.
Olivia was used to his rambling, and calmly placed the ledger on Leo’s forehead, recording today’s trades and expenditures.
Seeing the ever-growing numbers in the ledger, Olivia was in a cheerful mood.
“The village’s food stores are enough for a month now; we can trade more iron ore for other goods.”
“Fifteen pounds of cheese…”
“Ten pounds of nails…”
“Two spinning wheels…”

“Twenty felling axes…”
In the distance, the strong young men carrying beams shouted in unison under Valery’s direction, “Yo-ho! Lift!”
With the foundation of the lord’s manor finished, the first floor was taking shape.
Freya returned from digging the canal, covered in mud, sprawling in the camp’s center with all four paws waving wildly, shouting, “I won’t get up! I want a hot bath!”
Hearing these voices, Leo’s worries gradually faded.
He wasn’t the only one working hard; everyone was striving for their home.
At night, just as Leo was about to sleep, the tent flap was lifted and Olivia, clad only in a linen nightgown, slipped inside.
The nightgown, washed so many times, had grown thin as gauze, its sparse weave revealing her beautiful body in the flickering firelight outside.
“What are you doing?” Leo growled, his eyes flashing.
She lay beside Leo; the tent was so cramped she could only snuggle against his arm, lying on her side.
“I’m afraid you’ll bully the little mouse! I’m here to supervise you!”
“Supervise me? Looks more like a lamb walking into a tiger’s den, courting disaster!” Leo rolled over, pinning Olivia beneath him. Though he propped himself up, he could still feel the two soft, towering mounds of her chest.
As the atmosphere grew increasingly intimate, suddenly, the little mouse watching below let out a shrill cry.
A huge beastly head pushed in.
“Out! Out!”
Three people, six feet, pressed against the marmot’s forehead, desperately trying to push her out.
“I want to live in the tent too!” Freya insisted, squeezing determinedly into the tottering little tent.
Boom!
The poor tent finally couldn’t bear the strain and collapsed with a thunderous crash.