Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton Chapter 998

Chapter 998: Chapter 567 Don't Die of Drought Chapter 998: Chapter 567 Don't Die of Drought Can Undead Godhood be cultivated? That's a question for the Undead God himself, but there are only two Undead Gods in the world. The Monarch has disappeared, so now it all depends on Ange. If he says it can be done, then it can be done.

Little Angel stuck out her little tongue: “Lalalala~” The Mist of Breath of Death was drawn into her body, and then she started coughing.

It seemed she was not suited for this type of training, but she quickly thought of another method. She spat out her soul and breathed in the breath of death surrounding her.

Compared to her, Little Zombie made much more noise. His body ballooned like a bag, inhaling rapidly, the breath of death around him vanished in one breath, and exhaling, a small whirlwind kicked up around him.

Feiti was even more twisted, he only inhaled, without exhaling.

Anthony slapped his chest, and a Black Horse burst out. He was about to curse when he realized something was amiss. After a short pause and understanding the situation, it muttered softly, “Soul howl, so you do have some conscience.”

After mumbling, the Black Horse eagerly joined the feast of the Breath of Death.

The breath of death spreading from Ange created a cycle among everyone's souls.

Negris breathed and said in puzzlement, “Is this how Undead Godhood is cultivated? But I have seen the Breath of Death more turbulent than this in the past. Why didn't the Dead Skull cultivate then?”

Not to mention the Resting Wind in the abyss that could blow an angel into a skeleton, the Liquid of Breath of Death alone was far denser than this Soul howl. Why hadn't Ange created such a cycle before?

Anthony, now mostly appearing as the Pope of Light, did not join the cycle, instead, he summoned the Soul Armor to prevent contamination from the breath of death, and said:
“What the Lord needs is not the breath of death, but the soul faith within it. These breaths of death are just by-products, but also refined by the Lord, making them more compatible and more efficient for us to absorb.”

Negris suddenly realized, “Isn't that just like the horrific sacrifice and faith frenzy in the City of Light?”

Anthony nodded, “Same nature. The Power of Faith within the soul howl is what Undead Godhood needs.”

Negris opened his mouth wide, somewhat at a loss for words. He actually hadn't witnessed those two major events of horrific sacrifice and faith frenzy, only knowing that Ange had overthrown the God of Arbitration in the Consciousness Space of the God of Light.

This was supposed to be a divine battle with heavy casualties, but since it occurred in the Consciousness Space, no one had truly felt it. They only sensed a hint of danger from Ange's brief description.

If the current Soul howl could be likened to a faith frenzy, then it was no longer merely some High-Order Undead shouting around.

…
Behind the death line, a Soul Car floated in the air. Arambrough stood excitedly on the frame, watching the Undead Tide surge like a tidal wave below, feeling the special power in their howling.

Arambrough knew what it was because he had many subjects connected by soul, such as those Black Cavaliers, but compared to the ones in front of him, they were several orders of magnitude lesser.

Only the immortal Monarch could mobilize souls on this scale. Before departing, the Monarch had handed the Undead Scepter to Gust, so now only Gust could mobilize the Undead Tide of this scale.

Since His Majesty wasn't around, sneaking a little bit of the soul faith for himself seemed harmless, and it would be a waste otherwise, hehe.

In a slightly excited mood, Arambrough emitted a breath of death from his body, which spread out before he suddenly inhaled sharply.

He didn't have Ange's ability to incite a resonance of soul howl. He could only use his own Soul Energy as a primer, guiding the breath of death toward him.

With every breathe, he guided a multiple amount of the breath of death into his soul.

After a while, Arambrough, puzzled, opened his eyes, “Where is the soul faith? How could it be missing?”

Disbelieving, Arambrough kept trying, breathing repeatedly. Although he absorbed quite a bit of Soul Energy, not a trace of soul faith was captured, as if it had been filtered, leaving it clean.

Unable to understand, he tried repeatedly all night long. He successfully increased his Soul Strength by 0.2 percent, but captured not even a hint of soul faith.

Just like that, the “shouting and yelling” went on all night, and as dawn broke, everyone was finally able to see the situation clearly in the direction of the death line.

Far away, a dense mass of Skeleton Zombies thronged, jostling shoulder to shoulder, sweating and dancing like drums, as lively as a festival, stretching all the way to the horizon. The earth seemed like a carpet laid by the Undead.

Though everyone had sensed from the number of soul fires that the number of Undead would not be small, it was only by observing with the naked eye that they fully understood the staggering scale of the scene. Such a scale of the Undead Tide could engulf everything.

Negris asked in a trembling voice, “Old tree, can you withstand a tide of this scale?”

The God of Life spoke slowly, “I can withstand… for a little while. You all better run for your lives.”

Negris nearly fell to the ground, “Can't you speak without panting!”

However, the Undead Tide did not surge over. At daybreak, the dense Undead spread out and dug holes in the ground to bury themselves.

The Black Knights' raid last night hadn't caught anyone, and neither could the Undead Tide; no one would bother with such thankless tasks.

After the Undead burrowed into the ground, only the High-Order Undead remained. Gust turned into a puff of black fog and floated up from behind, followed by six smaller clouds of smoke.

Approaching Arambrough's Soul Car, Gust solidified his form and, with a puzzled look, glanced at Arambrough: “What's wrong with you? Why is your spirit so low? Have you been grave digging?”

“Dig your head, I haven't dug graves for hundreds of years, don't smear me using centuries-old stuff,” said Arambrough angrily.

“Then why is your spirit so down?” Gust asked curiously.

Arambrough opened his mouth, paused for a moment, then admitted, “Alright, I went grave digging.”

He couldn't possibly admit he was eyeing the Power of Faith in the Soul Howl, hoping to sneakily grab some, but ended up empty-handed and mentally distressed, right?

“See, I knew it, and you claim I smear you,” Gust laughed, “What's the situation now?”

“They ran away, into the forest in the mountains, can't find anyone. There's something odd about that forest,” Arambrough said.

Gust hesitated for a moment, then spoke, “I'll tell you something quietly. The Church of Light in the Divine Realm and the God of Life might have allied; the oddity in the forest is likely because of the God of Life.”

If Anthony had heard what Gust said, he would have jumped and cursed, knowing that only the Sorcerer Alliance knew his connection with the God of Life. No doubt, it must have been the Sorcerer Alliance who sold this information to Gust.

Arambrough blinked, unsure how to react. Much of the news about the Divine Realm came from “Divine Realm Hero Biography,” and who knew if what was written there was true?

Even if it were true, the description of the God of Life wasn't very detailed; how could one be certain that the oddity in the forest was the handiwork of the God of Life?

“So, what do we do now?” Arambrough asked.

“What else can we do, let's surround it for now. Is that flat land ahead cultivated farmland? Let's go have a look,” Gust said.

Arambrough was skeptical, “What's there to look at? Stuff made by those servants of Light is just painful to look at. Just destroy it.”

“Destroy your head, don't even think about it. If His Majesty finds out you had such thoughts, he would definitely penalize you to pick up dung. Do you want to bring your Black Cavaliers every day to human cities to collect dung?” Gust scolded.

Arambrough shivered and quickly shook his head desperately. He knew His Majesty was definitely capable of such things.

Being an Undead King, he was always very keen on farming; in the past, tasks like dung picking were common for old Undead like Gust. It wasn't until there were more of them that the younger ones like Arambrough were spared.

“Then hurry up and go have a look, if there's already something planted in there, you're responsible for watering it, don't let it dry out.”

Chapter end

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