Tima the Creator God's Overlord Journey

Unfortunately, that good mood did not last long. All of a sudden, Preya's expression darkened.

"You vermin, who gave you permission to do that?" Her cold voice seemed to come from an abyss of extreme frost, sending chills down one's spine.

Suppressing the urge to immediately use a tenth-tier wide-area annihilation spell, the young mage, her face frosted over, used teleportation magic.

The elite goblin priest first knelt down and kowtowed three times toward the small river before him. Then he pressed his hands together and offered a prayer to his ancestors and the forest.

"May our ancestors bless the continuation of our race. We thank the Forest God for granting us this divine water!"

Then the goblin priest rose to his feet and waved a broad hand at the goblins behind him.

All the goblins promptly dropped to their knees, kowtowed three times in unison, and shouted.

"May our ancestors bless the continuation of our race. We thank the Forest God for granting us this divine water!"

"Alright, draw the water." Nodding, the goblin priest shifted a step sideways and cleared the path beside him.

The goblins present were almost all high-ranking goblins with warrior or other classes. They rushed forward impatiently and began filling wooden containers with river water.

The water in this river was divine water. The priests of the goblin tribes in the forest had discovered this secret three days ago.

At the time, one of the tribe's warriors had been injured by a leopard demon beast, and the bleeding simply would not stop. The priest's mana had been exhausted during the battle, leaving him without even enough mana to cast the first-tier spell Minor Wound Healing.

Although he had more or less concluded that the warrior's life was likely over, the priest still used river water to wash his wounds, hoping to prevent infection.

Then, a miracle happened. Despite being grievously wounded down to the bone, his bleeding suddenly eased.

Suspecting that the river water was responsible, the priest took a drink.

A miracle truly occurred—his mana recovery speed increased.

"Hold on!" Making a snap decision, he continuously fed the warrior water and washed his wounds while drinking the river water himself. In the end, he recovered enough mana to cast magic and saved the warrior.

Furthermore, the keen-eyed priest discovered that the plants growing by the river were clearly greener and more luxuriant than those elsewhere.

Convinced that the river's water was divine water, the priest began leading the entire tribe in worshipping the river.

At first, some goblins did not believe it. But after drinking the river water and experiencing their bodies becoming healthier, nearly every goblin warrior was won over.

Now, each day, the priest arranged for the tribe's strongest warriors to perform the ritual, and the divine water they collected was brought back and distributed throughout the tribe.

Goblins were an extremely weak race. Even among weak races, their tribe could only be considered middling, with only a few goblin warriors and one priest. The rest were ordinary goblins.

A group like this faced the threat of extinction almost every day. Discovering divine water capable of healing minor wounds at such a time was practically a gift from heaven.

"Don't fight over it! And no one take too much, or the gods will be angered!" the goblin priest shouted. Then, unfortunately, just as he had said, something descended the next moment.

The goblin priest collapsed to his knees, not out of piety, but because of the weight. Pressure beyond what his torso could bear forced him into a full prostration, every bone in his body letting out a wail on the verge of shattering.

The goblins drawing water from the river were sent flying one after another, crashing into thick trees before rolling to the ground.

In the very center of the small river stood a beast-eared girl in white robes, her toes lightly resting on the surface of the water.

"If it were plants, insects, or animals like squirrels, that would be one thing." Her voice, cold as frost, drifted over, making the goblins feel as though they had fallen into an icy abyss.

"But you are sentient beings, aren't you? Though your intelligence is about the size of a grain of sand—or perhaps not even that." The girl walked over to the goblin priest and looked down at him coldly.