Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

Alright, several dozens of Soul Fires would be sufficient for an experiment. Ange channeled all of them into the skeletons, reviving sixty undead skeletons.

After studying these skeletons, Ange found that their intelligence seemed to have improved slightly. Upon careful selection, there were particularly three skeletons that showed significantly high intelligence. Ange infused farming knowledge into them, and they managed to grasp some of it.

The amount they mastered was not the key, the crucial point was whether they could put it to use. These three skeletons could carry out simple tasks like hoeing, transplanting seedlings, watering, and sowing seeds.

That was enough. Originally, the skeletons on the farm could only do these tasks. Ange acquired many abilities only later on.

With the help of three additional skeletons, Ange accelerated his transplanting speed significantly. Coupled with Little Zombie, he now had five helping hands for transplanting seedlings. As for why Little Angel wasn’t included? It couldn’t handle such delicate work, and it would be good enough if it didn’t wreck the seedlings.

Soon enough, rows of luminous moss appeared on the dark earth, glimmering brightly. Among the moss, there laid robust green saplings neatly in a row.

Ange walked to the center of the farmland and stepped on it. Three hours later, all the saplings withered due to malnutrition. They turned yellow, unable to bear ears, and died.

Negris scratched his head and said dejectedly: “It seems that the light intensity provided by the luminous moss is insufficient to meet the needs of the Instant Death Halo. Maybe we should stop planting for now and wait until the eternal night passes.”

No one responded. Turning around, he saw Ange squatting on the ridge, resting his chin on his hands, calmly observing the farmland as if in contemplation.

Little Angel and Little Zombie were squatting on either side of him. Big Bone was squatting aside, with a large cat resting on his head like a furry hat, creating a scene of tranquility and serenity.

Witnessing this scene, Negris suddenly came to realization. That’s right, they didn’t need to eat, so it didn’t seem important whether the crops grew or not. Identifying and solving problems might be where Ange found his pleasure.

From planting luminous moss, holy mushrooms, beetroot, long-grain rice to the World Tree, Ange wasn’t obsessed with what he planted. As long as he could farm, he was satisfied.

As long as he could farm, where could the king have gone? Was the army of the Land of Slumber important? Not important. Even to Negris himself, it was not important – he was merely trying to satisfy his curiosity.

Realizing this, the depression in Negris’s heart suddenly dissipated. He sighed, flew to the other side of the ridge, squatted down, and looked up at the dazzling sky.

For the first time, he calmly watched the eternal night sky. The hanging streaks of light were the sole source of illumination during this eternal night. Even though they weren’t all that bright, they were enough to outline the surroundings, much like a moonlit night.

As he continued observing, Negris was suddenly struck by a thought and muttered to himself: “Could these streaks of light be the turbulence ejected from a space rift?”

Regrettably, there was nothing that could allow him to fly up and observe more closely, so he could only blindly guess. Just then, Ange suddenly turned to look into the distance, where a cloud of smoke came hesitantly from afar, seemingly ready to flee at any time.

Only upon seeing Big Bone’s prominent figure did the cloud of smoke speed up, calling from afar to announce its identity: “It’s me, it’s me, my Lord, it’s me, Feirick.”

The cloud of smoke dispersed to reveal Feirick.

“Greetings, my Lords. What… what has happened here? Isn’t this Relay Tower No.4? How did it turn out like this? Is Holcuk here?” Feirick was baffled.

As an undead merchant, he traveled incessantly. Though this place didn’t have much business opportunities, he would occasionally pass by. It used to be a desolate Land of Deathly Silence, how did it suddenly transform into its current state?

Rows of neat farmland were equivalent to thousands of human habitations. But where were the people? How could human settlements appear out of nowhere?

“Oh, Feirick, these lands were just developed by us. Not a big deal, stop making a fuss. Why are you here anyway?” Negris casually said, with an ‘it’s-no-big-deal’ attitude.

Feirick took a good look at Negris, smiled awkwardly and rolled his eyes as if he didn’t believe a word Negris said. However, he didn’t dwell on it and answered Negris’s question:

“My Lord, I have changed my status from a merchant to a staff member of the Trade Department under the Great Sage. I’m in charge of trade-related tasks. I came here this time to find channels to buy food.” Feirick exclaimed excitedly.

As a weak and solitary trader, Feirick’s biggest sorrow was not having any powerful backing. Anyone dared to pick on him, his speed in paying taxes when dealing with Brand indicated how accustomed he was to such treatment.

Now, he had a chance to align himself with a powerful entity, and not just any entity, but the biggest one in the Land of Fallen—the Great Sage. Despite Harvey’s greater strength, it was the Great Sage who managed the entire Land of Fallen.

With the Great Sage as his backer, Feirick wouldn’t have to worry about paying taxes while trading in the future!

Negris sneered, “You’re only going legit because your business route got cut off, right? If you didn’t switch sides, you wouldn’t be able to run your business, since all your customers are gone.”

Alas, the true reason was seen through at a glance. Feirick felt like he was about to fall apart as he confessed in disappointment, “That’s part of the reason, yes. We broke through the human defenses, and all the humans who didn’t manage to escape were taken as captives. Who’s left to buy my goods?”

“So what if nobody buys? You don’t need to eat, are you afraid of starving to death? Now you’ve turned to the Great Sage. You will be punished if you fail your task,” Negris reminded him.

“Yes, yes, we have quotas. We will be punished if we don’t complete our tasks. Bronze Dragon Lord, you’re so wise, you understand everything,” Feirick fervently agreed and praised.

“Ha ha, you certainly know the score,” Negris laughed, standing tall and proud. His tail, especially, was held high.

“To avoid punishment, I beg for your help,” Feirick took the chance to plead.

Looking unsurprised, Negris asked, “Want to buy grain?”

Feirick nodded quickly in agreement, like a chicken pecking at grains.

“How did you think to buy grain from us? Do we look like we have any?” Negris asked, genuinely curious.

“Yes!” Feirick firmly replied, “In that cave, you’ve cultivated farmland, and here too, there’s plenty of newly tilled fields. You’re certainly good at farming. If even you don’t have any grain, I really wouldn’t know where else to find surplus food.”

Negris nodded, praising Feirick for his keen observation. However, his tone shifted as he added, “Pity we don’t have any. We planted the crops, but nothing grew. The ones in the cave haven’t even sprouted yet, and the crops here are all dead—you can look for yourself.”

Feirick had already seen this when he arrived and sighed in disappointment, “Even you don’t have any? That’s painful. It’s terrible for the humans. Most of them have already left the Land of Fallen, so supplies will be greatly reduced or even cut off completely in the future. The population they could sustain before, they won’t be able to sustain in the future. At least half will have to die. Starving to death is just too unbearable.”

Negris was silent, confronted with this harsh reality. The Land of Fallen was barren and desolate, unsuitable for living organisms, even worse than the Resting Abyss.

At least in the Resting Abyss there was a proper day-night cycle. Here, there was a night every three months. The crops had to complete their life cycle within these three months, yielding a small harvest that couldn’t satisfy the people’s needs.

Therefore, external support was necessary. For years, the Master Plane had provided seventy percent of the food supply to the Land of Fallen, sustaining seventy percent of the population.

This meant if supplies from the Master Plane were cut off, at least seventy percent of the humans would starve to death—it was a terrifying catastrophe.

But Negris didn’t dare to casually sell food. If massive quantities of food were provided, it would inevitably involve the Great Sage. How would he explain where the food was coming from then?

Telling him that Ange had a Dimension Beast capable of traversing planes? What if the other party demanded he hand over the Dimension Beast?

Don’t forget why they were cornered here. Wasn’t it because they couldn’t get home? If they could traverse planes, would they need to be stuck here, desperately attacking human lines? Wouldn’t it be easier to just teleport back to the Resting Abyss?

“The Great Sage even said that whoever could solve the food supply issue would be rewarded with the Staff of Heaven, a war trophy from over a thousand years ago. What a pity,” Feirick stated regretfully.

Negris pricked up his ears, “What did you say?”

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