Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton Chapter 1167

Chapter 1167: Chapter 731: Elf Beans? Big Cat is Stumped Chapter 1167: Chapter 731: Elf Beans? Big Cat is Stumped Negris coughed up a mouthful of old blood, “Then why are you dawdling? Hurry up and save them! They're crying for help and yet you're not in any hurry–that's your progenitor!”

The God of Life was nonchalant and spoke slowly, “But this is just a remnant consciousness–it's already dead. It's just a lingering piece of consciousness that's calling out for help. It can't be saved.”

“Remnant consciousness?” Negris was stunned for a moment.

The God of Life and the Tree Herder both nodded.

Remnant consciousness isn't anything new to them; nearly every Wraith has a bit of remaining consciousness. If they died a particularly grievous and unjust death, their resentment could be so strong it might keep you awake at night.

Ange had encountered a relatively complete remnant consciousness before, which was Chun Feng the Druid's. It was imprinted with his resentment towards the failed Saline Demon Rice and the fact that dragon dung stank terribly.

If the voice calling for help was also just a lingering consciousness, then indeed there was no need for salvation. But Negris was curious, “Aren't you curious what it's attached to? Why it's calling for help? What it went through while alive? Did it call out for anything else besides help?”

“I am curious,” the God of Life replied.

“Then why so sluggish? You're driving me to death with frustration, come up with a solution already!” Negris fumed like an acutely ill patient facing a slow Priest.

The God of Life said at their usual leisurely pace, “I'm rooting myself now; just wait a bit–the ground is quite hard.”

“How long do we have to wait?” Negris pressed, now fully aware that the God of Life's perception of time was different from others. Their 'just wait' could be decades, and 'near death' might be over nine thousand years–Negris knew they had to get a clear answer.

The God of Life replied with some annoyance, “I used to only count time by seasons, dry season, rainy season, spring, and winter. But ever since I met you, I feel I have to work every day and even calculate by the day. It's so troublesome, maybe a day or two?”

“Ptui, it's because you're too lazy, okay? From spring to winter, humans could have a child,” Negris scoffed.

A day or two to root deep into the ground was acceptable. So, they waited.

While the God of Life was rooting, the Undead raised by Ange had surrounded the Blood Pool Demon Palace completely. At least twenty million Undead were arrayed closely all around, launching orderly attacks–efficient and mechanical, a sight even more chilling than the recklessly fearless.

As long as the controlling means are powerful enough, you can make any creature fight without fear of death, but you can't make them charge emotionlessly into a doomed attack.

The Undead could do just that.

As the Undead kept pouring in, Ange noticed another issue–it became more common for undead who had once fallen to suddenly ignite a Soul Fire and create new souls.

“The number of instances where Soul Fires are born is increasing, so they first fall and then a soul is created?” Anthony exclaimed in surprise.

After receiving Ange's confirmation, Anthony said in shock, “This is a resurrection of the Undead.”

This was no longer just the King's Arrival. King's Arrival summoned masses of corpses, which formed a cycle of Breathing Soil–breath of death–Undead–death–thickening Breathing Soil–denser death breath, eventually creating a complete positive feedback loop.

And so, the resurrection of the Undead fell upon them, a mechanism capable of creating Soul Fires on a large scale. As long as one is within this positive cycle, every corpse has the potential to spawn a Soul Fire.

Similar resurgences of the Undead had occurred many times throughout history, spawning large numbers of the Undead, but none had ever been on the scale seen now.

“Ah, you've made a big scene again,” Negris sighed, but said no more, because with Ange's current strength, anything he did would be a big scene, one just had to get used to it.

Lifeless corpses, revived into Undead with Soul Fire, allowed Ange to forfeit the pull of this portion of corpses and transfer the “thread” to other corpses.

This resulted in an increasing number of corpses and Undead, the surrounding breath of death grew denser, accelerating the revival of the corpses.

What's more terrifying was that the demons that had died at the hands of the Undead were now also standing up.

Unfortunately, the demons here didn't understand what Undead were, otherwise they would be murmuring to themselves that their 'comrades had become enemies, their souls harvested'.

But even without knowing, they realized the terror of these enemies, and everyone's gaze turned towards Kelerite.

Some even began to quietly complain, “It's all the Lord's fault for wanting to sacrifice all the slaves; otherwise, these corpses wouldn't have risen.”

“What does the rising of corpses have to do with the sacrifice?”

“Isn't it obvious? They just talked about sacrificing all the slaves, and immediately the corpses rose up. If it's not because of that, then what is it? Because you had two extra meat bones for breakfast?”

“Couldn't it be because someone couldn't stand us sacrificing all the slaves, so they summoned the corpses?”

The original demon spread his hands, “Well, because, therefore, isn't it because of the sacrifice of all the slaves?”

“That seems to make some sense. Could it really be the work of the Undead Ruler's followers? I've heard the Undead Ruler has a vast army of Undead. According to you, isn't this now an army of Undead?”

The whispers among the crowd occasionally reached Kelerite's ears, making him angry, frustrated, and scared: Could it really be because of that reason? When they've sacrificed before, the corpses never rose, so why would they rise now? The only difference is that this time, they were sacrificing everyone, so the other party couldn't tolerate it?

If Anthony didn't hear these discussions, he probably would say to them, “No, it's because, the God of the Undead, has come.”

“Not good, they've broken through the front, reinforcements, reinforcements, and don't die, even if you do, make sure to grab your corpse back,” the acting commander-in-chief shouted. Why acting? Because Marshal Big Head had been squeezed to death by Kelerite.

At that sight, Kelerite gritted his teeth, “Activate the Demon Palace! Half power!”

He had been saving it for the Ancient God, but now it seemed there would be no chance to use it otherwise.

Kelerite's orders were not for the demons around him; these demons didn't even know what “activate the Demon Palace” meant, and they exchanged bewildered looks.

But his loyal followers who received the commands were already in action. These followers were Kelerite's Bloodline, his most direct descendants, all his children, no grandchildren involved, after all, he was still able to reproduce.

One by one, every part of the Demon Palace lit up, from the subsidiary halls at the base to the various complex corridors, and then the central tower; the entire Blood Pool Demon Palace slowly began to operate, its energy intensity constantly increasing.

Ange, who was “threading”, looked up at the direction of the Demon Palace and suddenly dropped all of the “threads” flying towards that direction, simultaneously shouting, “Elf Beans!”

Elf Beans? Big Cat was instantly stunned, puffing up like an exploding ball of fur, chasing after Ange.

Chapter end

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