Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton Chapter 1073

Chapter 1073: Chapter 638: Death God's Staff, Hurry Up and Help Chapter 1073: Chapter 638: Death God's Staff, Hurry Up and Help Negris finally understood Ange had sealed most of his powers to deceive someone, “It seems that Macor's god is no decent entity, his journey to the Divine Country is no joyful trip but a journey through hell.”

The protruding pair of eyes looked in this direction for a while and found nothing, finally retreating back in confusion.

Clearly it sensed something, but Ange's reaction was too quick, and he possessed a Divine Artifact capable of sealing power, quickly sealing the power and masquerading as an ordinary creature.

To these powerful creatures, without a strong energy reaction, they simply wouldn't notice you, just as a Giant Dragon wouldn't notice beetles on its body.

Macor and several others failed to see through this deception; they still reveled in the fantasy of a vacation, with the airship gradually descending to the ground under their control.

Negris switched to his own point of view and saw a spacious, flat square, sporadically dotted with many airships, no people in sight.

Looking in the direction of the 'hair strands', he saw a massive city, faintly visible in the light, where countless light pillars shimmered, some swaying, others stabbing towards the sky.

Switching back to Ange's view, he found those light pillars were indeed 'hair strands', each one striking against the body of the Serpent of Misfortune.

Negris couldn't help but mutter, “How magical, is this an illusion? Which is more powerful, this or Wuga's True Illusion? Can it see through your scarecrow hat if you can see through its illusions?”

Ange replied, “Wuga, powerful, it, big, I, small, cannot see through me.”

“Wuga is more powerful? But it isn't that powerful, huh? Is it because it's so large that it's easy to see through? Is it because the scarecrow hat's range is small, so it can't see through you?” Negris asked.

Ange nodded his head.

“Then I'm relieved,” Negris sighed with relief. Although the scarecrow hat was low-level, on Ange it acted like a Divine Artifact, unseeable by those with weaker spiritual power than his.

Finally encountering a red creature, yet due to its dispersed power, it still could not see through the disguise, allowing Ange to relax and go forth boldly.

Eager to explore, Macor and a few others hurriedly left the airship, walking towards the outskirts of the square, their mood visibly excited.

Negris said in confusion, “There's something off about them, too excited perhaps? What's there to enjoy here? They weren't this excited when talking about surrendering just now, all were complaints about the Divine Country. If this is an illusion, why not create better food and material comforts? Then they wouldn't have betrayed over just a bit of savory food, is it because the taste cannot be simulated?”

Wuga's True Illusion could simulate reality to the extent of taste, odor, and even pleasure; this creature's illusion was inferior to Wuga's, likely unable to simulate taste.

Ange followed behind and stepped onto the square, his foot landing on the bones, causing his head to tilt immediately.

“What's wrong?” Negris switched to Ange's view, looked down at his feet, and saw a dense breath of death flowing up through the bones and into Ange's foot.

Seeing this dark, dense breath of death, Negris was shocked, “Such a dense breath of death, how many people must have died to create this? Does this mean, these bones are all alive?”

Only living things have souls, dying here would produce a breath of death; if bones were just dumped here, dead things wouldn't produce a breath of death.

The number of skeletons was overwhelming, and Negris couldn't imagine what kind of disaster could create so many; he even wondered if bones from other places had been transferred here, but this breath of death proved otherwise.

“So cruel, why kill so many people? Looking at the shapes of the skeletons, there are humans, goblins, dwarves, what's this, horses?” Negris scrutinized carefully.

The ground was a treasure trove of this dense, almost congealed breath of death between the thick layers of bones; each step stirred up a huge amount of breath of death.

Ange directly transferred these to the Resting Palace and into the giant barrels containing Liquid of Breath of Death.

“So much breath of death, collecting it all, could it fill up the Resting Palace?” Negris said enviously.

Just this amount of breath of death alone made the infiltration worthwhile. The very foundation of the Undead is the breath of death, essential for the formation of an Undead's soul. Without it, no Undead could emerge.

If other places also had a breath of death as dense as here, it would be like amassing the accumulation of a whole plane, enough to create another Undead Empire.

Secretly, Ange extracted the breath of death from the ground with his feet, following Macor and the others forward for a while, until Negris finally realized what was off about them.

“It looks like they've been enchanted,” Negris remarked.

The enchantment was silent; thinking back, it must have started the moment they saw the plane.

This was not surprising. When a species coexists with a super lifeform for a long time, all effects are magnified. For example, for the God of Life, any punitive measures are especially effective with elves but not as obvious with humans or other species.

“Enchantment combined with illusion, double the effect, no wonder they get so excited about the Divine Country,” Negris whispered.

All of this was shrouded in mystery, countless questions arising in Negris's mind, like why the 'hair strands' were doing this? What was the purpose of sustaining so many goblins and humans? These questions made him wish he could drag Anthony and a silver coin over to analyze this situation.

“Can you find a way to bring Anthony and the others here? Uh, what are you doing?” Coming back to his senses, Negris saw Ange was up to something again; he was quietly crushing some Cemetery Grass and dropping it into the gaps between the bones at his feet.

“Planting,” Ange said.

“…” Negris was speechless, the area was desolate and pervaded by the Breath of Death, not suitable for the growth of plants, but Ange had all sorts of crops, and there definitely was some kind that could thrive in this environment, such as Cemetery Moss, which is also known as Cemetery Grass.

This is one of the few plants that can grow in an environment rich in the Breath of Death. It doesn't need water or soil, just the breath of death, and it will grow.

“Do you have to plant things or you'll die? Aren't you afraid those 'strands' will find out and turn us over? Then you might as well plant a World Tree,” Negris said irritably.

Ange nodded.

“Uh, what do you mean? You've already planted one?” Negris suddenly had a bad premonition, turned his head and looked back, but didn't see any World Tree saplings.

After thinking it over, he retreated to the Bronze Book and flew towards the farm where he indeed saw a lone World Tree sapling planted in the center of Farm No. 2.

“Kvada, you really did plant it, but thankfully you didn't mess around, knowing to plant the World Tree at home,” Negris breathed a sigh of relief, planting it inside the Resting Palace, at least it wouldn't attract those discoverers' attention.

Seeing the Bronze Tree flying over, the sapling actually moved, waving its leaves and sending out some enthusiastic messages.

Negris's heart moved, he quickly flew over, and indeed felt those enthusiastic messages: force–grow–force–grow–not growing…?

“It really is you, you dumb Little Sapling,” Negris cursed irately.

The sapling tilted, sending out some confused messages, as if asking: who are you–
Negris flipped the book pages and slammed them in front of the Little Sapling, showing Negris in his Giant Dragon Form roaring, “It's me, you dumb Little Sapling.”

The Little Sapling sent out some panicked messages: fear–fear–
Then it suddenly grew wildly, in an instant growing into vines as thick as a waist, twisting into a fist, and punched the dragon shadow on the book pages, sending the Bronze Book flying.

“Kvada, you've learned to hit too? Damn, those two undead kids have corrupted you, you can't do this, hitting is wrong, ow, you dumb Little Sapling, how can your fist be so heavy? It hurts so much to hit people,” Negris quickly shrunk the Bronze Book, checking to make sure it wasn't damaged.

However, the attack force of the sapling secretly alarmed Negris. The Little Sapling had reacted subconsciously in haste, but to be able to send the Bronze Book flying? This wasn't its projected Juvenile Dragon body, but a Divine Artifact that could seal Gods.

“How did it even get here? When did you stuff it in?” Negris turned to Ange and asked.

Ange replied, “Didn't stuff it, branched, just planted.”

“Hiss–this isn't the Little Tree? Is this a clone of the Little Tree? You just planted it? Does the Little Tree have seeds?” Negris said, shocked.

Ange said puzzledly, “Yes, Iron Sand City.”

The Little Tree had seeds long ago; the one in Iron Sand City was planted from a seed produced by the Little Sapling, and the Old Tree had also said that the Little Sapling was already stronger than it, but these familiar people were just used to treating the Little Sapling as just a sapling.

“Uh, so you used seeds from the Little Tree to sprout a new World Tree, so the Little Sapling could use the same root system of the World Tree to transfer here? Like the Old Tree did?” Negris asked.

Ange nodded and added, “Little Tree, stronger.”

After finishing, he sent a message to the Little Tree through thought.

Oh–after the Little Sapling sent a message, it immediately plunged its roots into the soil, waving its leaves: force–grow–force–grow–
The Little Sapling grew wildly, soon becoming a Big Tree, the trunk and roots twisting to form a huge tree hole.

Negris curiously peered into the pitch-black tree hole, suddenly, two white beams shot out from inside, swinging wildly like searchlights.

It wasn't long before the Little Angel, eyes shining, arrived racing out of it, topped with beams like magic searchlights, with the Little Zombie following behind.

“It really is you two undead kids; oh my, isn't this the space tree hole that the Old Tree used to connect us to the Elf Forest back then? The Little Sapling's space tree hole can actually connect the Star Burst Plane to the Resting Palace?” Negris was astounded.

Back then, the Old Tree's space tree hole had directly transferred them from the edge of the Elf Forest onto its own body, but that distance was only a thousand or two thousand kilometers. But the Little Sapling had linked from the Star Burst Plane to the Resting Palace, wasn't that distance excessive? Was the Little Sapling really that strong?

Shortly after the Little Angel and the Little Zombie ran out, Feiti poked his head out cautiously from the tree hole, looked around stunned, and exclaimed,
“This… isn't this the Resting Palace? Eh, Lord Negris? Is it really the Resting Palace? These two undead kids were whispering with the Little Sapling for a long time, then pulled us to Iron Sand City, wanting to climb into a Big Tree's tree hole, and it actually leads to the Resting Palace?”

Soon, Durken also crawled out: “This… isn't this the Resting Palace? Eh, Lord Negris?”

Not much later, Anthony also crawled out: “This… isn't this the Resting Palace? Eh, Lord Negris?”

“You guys have rehearsed this, haven't you? Why does everyone say the same line? You've come just in time, Death God's Staff, hurry up and help,” Negris said irritably.

Chapter end

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