Roots

Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman.
Be he alive, or be he dead, I'll put his words inside your head.
Follow your will, do what you please,
Yet dare not break from our decree.
This he was told from high above,
In a sun-baked land, years ago.
Yes a beastly man, who lives no more.

Find his number, multiply it by four.
Remove its second-smallest member, apply it afore.

A pathway of creatures, the oilseed of yore:
Use your calculation, apply it to this.
A wandering monster, colored orange white and yellow,
Oh what does he find, this inquisitive fellow?
The term of today, what shall it be?
It brings connection, but doesn't come free.
For what you don't know wont hurt you, but what you do certainly will.

Bring this truth to me, and you will have won!
But don't become too excited now, the game has just begun.
Use what you have learned, this is the real prize,
This challenge you have beaten, earned its demise.
This is just a step, on the road to the end.
Like the giants, the flesh from their bones you must rend.
Leaving only their core, what a sight to see!
Achieving this feat, you shall sing with glee.