Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

“What’s there to fear about impersonation? Are there many who own a teleportation array these days? If they have a teleportation array, wouldn’t they possess healing abilities as well? And what about that sick branch? What are they going to use it for? Grind it into powder and make tea?” the Black Warrior said nonchalantly.

Well, having a teleportation array is indeed a natural filtering criterion. If someone has a teleportation array, what can’t they do?

The Black Warrior activated the communication function of the teleportation array and spoke a few words with the other side. The other side inspected this side’s teleportation array, found it wasn’t on the recorded list, and without a word, sent over a tree branch that was half a meter long and as thick as an arm.

They even covered the teleportation fee themselves.

“Is it really that simple?” Negris held the branch, somewhat incredulous. The World Tree, God of the Elf Clan, its branch was so easy to get? They even waived the postage.

But after taking a closer look, the condition of the branch indeed was not good. As the God of Knowledge, Negris had seen a healthy World Tree before. The other party even invited him to taste its fruit, a basin-sized one with countless seeds and yellowish juice inside it, which tasted extremely good and had an effect of slightly extending one’s lifespan.

The Bronze Dragon lived for ten thousand years, and Negris finally died at the age of ten thousand and two. The extra two years might be attributed to the effect of the fruit.

Even though the effect was not significant, the taste was fantastic. However, there were multiple seeds inside a single fruit, which were the seeds of the World Tree. They promise a single seed as a reward for curing the World Tree, isn’t it a joke? Isn’t it better to just give more branches? If this branch is healthy and can survive propagation, it will surely grow faster than seedlings.

“You pass the planting information test, Ange…” Negris turned around to see no sign of Ange: the little skeleton was long gone.

Not far away, Ange realized he couldn’t understand their conversation, so he came outside.

Upon seeing him coming out, the little angelic skeleton rushed over, showing the soles of its feet while flying. The silly child must have stepped on hot rocks somewhere, and his feet had been roasted to a golden brown, pleasant fragrance coming off…

The Little Zombie was much smarter, it kept its distance from anything hot.

After casting a few Holy Lights to heal his feet, Ange let out a roar, and the Angel immediately lowered its head dejectedly and flew back into the valley.

The bottom of the Great Rift was a scorching hot Lava River, which flowed as far as the eye could see. The land on either side of the river was steep, the higher you went away from the river, the lower the temperature.

There were many holes in the slope, which had been spewing black smoke all year round. The smoke contained particles that solidified upon cooling and accumulated near the holes, forming small mounds of soil. Over the years, these mounds grew larger and larger.

If you dig some soil from outside and mix it with the accumulated volcanic ash, you’ll get fertile soil for planting. The constant heat from the Lava River provides a distinct climate here which allows two grain seasons in a year, besides planting some cash crops or vegetables. It’s really a rich land.

The Great Rift extended further than anyone could measure. Of the Demon Valley that housed five thousand people, only a short segment was usable. Ange randomly chose a hole that was still emitting smoke. He dug the ash soil accumulated near it and transferred it into the Temple of Rest.

Based on the ratio of one Soul Crystal to a hundred pounds, he used two thousand Soul Crystals and moved two hundred thousand pounds of volcanic ash soil inside.

The quantity sounded large, but in practice, it was only a hundred tons. Spread over three thousand acres of land, it translated to only sixty-six pounds per acre. Unsure about the suitability of this ratio as a fertilizer mixed into the soil, only time would tell.

Ange was already preparing a control group, choosing ten acres of land, figuring out the appropriate ratio, and then transferring in the sufficient amount.

However, the quantity of Soul Flames had been decreasing lately. Negris said it was the period of faith exhaustion. Without any new stimulation or increase in followers, this decline might continue.

He asked Ange if he wanted to perform some miracles to harvest some faith. But miracles do have a threshold, they must outdo the previous ones, otherwise their effect would diminish.

However, miracles are less effective than wonders. Miracles have a one-time effect, while wonders resonate with people’s souls for a certain period, achieving a continuous stimulating effect.

However, a wonder has already been excavated. The World Transit Station is a wonder. The day it fully reappears will be a day to shake the souls of everyone in this world.

Besides miracles and wonders, there’s a more brutal method to harvest faith on a large scale, which is the Holy War.

Start a war of faith, involving everyone. In time, everyone’s faith will become incredibly strong and fervent.

Negris explained three ways to increase the power of the Soul Flame. Ange listened, tilted his head, muttered ‘bothersome’, then ran off.

The next day, Ange didn’t use the Soul-consuming Instant Death Halo to farm, instead, he organised the fields within the Temple of Rest by hand. It seemed he was trying to turn up the rigid farmland inside the temple.

At this moment, Negris understood what Ange meant by ‘bothersome’. Ange farmed for fun, not for production. If he had to do all this work just to use the Instant Death Halo, he wouldn’t bother.

Hence, the amount of Soul Flame remained between one thousand five hundred to two thousand per day, and continued to decrease. Occasionally, he needed to save up for a single use of the Instant Death Halo.

This made Negris lament Angel s dumb luck. It was a wise choice to put a stop to their cooperative farming process. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be enough Soul Flame.

“Ange, can you take a look at this twig and see how we could save it?” Negris asked, flying over with a twig in hand.

As the God of Knowledge, Negris knows hundreds of ways to revive a dried-up twig. However, he is the God of Knowledge, not the God of Plants. His knowledge came from those with abundant farming knowledge, like elves, druids, or human farmers.

He couldn’t create new knowledge about farming and didn’t have any personal farming experience. Therefore, he didn’t believe that his methods — ones that the elves must have tried — would work. They must have tried all methods before seeking help from others.

Instead of relying on his own knowledge, Negris felt Ange, who had created four farming magic spells, was more reliable.

Ange glanced at the twig and shook his head, “Natural old age, depletion of life, it cannot be cured.”

“What? Natural old age? You mean the World Tree is about to die of old age?” Negris asked.

Ange nodded.

“The World Tree is going to die? But didn’t it say that it could live for a hundred thousand years? How come it’s dying so soon?” Negris murmured in shock.

Back when he was on the road to becoming a god, the World Tree gave him a lot of guidance. It also told Negris: “The lifespan of gods lies within the hearts of their followers. My life is in my rings. One hundred thousand years.”

Upon hearing the sudden news of its nearing end, Negris felt a wave of melancholy and loss. Even though he succeeded in igniting the Divine Fire and his life now lay within the hands of the Undead King — meaning he was theoretically immortal — the World Tree that had once guided him was soon to leave him.

With a melancholic sigh, he looked up to see Ange taking out a big bottle of essence, about a litre big. Ange inserted the branch, which then activated the Instant Death Halo with a tap of his finger.

The part of the branch inserted inside the bottle grew roots visibly to the naked eye. Like a straw stuck into it, the nutrient liquid in the bottle depleted. The originally dried-out World Tree branch suddenly rejuvenated, its bark turning green and sprouting new leaves, blossoming and bearing fruit.

Ange swiftly pruned the surplus buds, leaving only the trunk. So, all the nutrients were gathered towards the trunk, growing a fruit as big as a washbasin. then the branches and leaves swiftly wilted.

Ange interrupted the Instant Death Halo, regardless if it was ripe, and picked the fruit immediately.

The branch continued to wilt and blacken before turning to ash and disappearing without a trace, leaving only the gigantic fruit in Angel s hand.

Negris stared at the fruit, dumbfounded. It was identical to the one that the World Tree had once given him to eat, but a tad more lush.

“Okay, now we don’t need the elves’ awards. We have seeds. All the seeds are in the fruit.” Speaking in a tone that was torn between laughing and crying, Negris found that Ange always had a surprise (or shock) up his sleeve.

But the more shocking part came when Ange smashed the fruit and picked out all the seeds, sprinkling some over the volcanic soil pile at his feet.

Negris exclaimed in fright, “What are you trying to do! Are you planning to plant the World Tree like it’s a vegetable?!”