Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

“Where’s Lord Ange gone off to again? I really miss him; I pine for him night and day. Just to ever remain by his side…” Luther muttered, carefully nibbling a small bite from the last piece of beetroot jerky, holding it in his mouth as he savored it slowly, unwilling to swallow it.

This was indeed the last of his beetroot jerky, and if Ange did not return, he was facing a dire food shortage. He initially wished to save it to replenish energy during battle, but being idle here day in and day out means there was no such battle – and he ended up eating it all without meaning to.

Ah! Where has Lord Ange gone? He missed the beetroot jerky!

It was then that a speck of light illuminated at the edge of the basin where the World Transit Station was located. It was as bright as a large Illumination Magic Array, visible even in broad daylight.

“Here we go again. That dear ancestor Miss Lisa… Always messing with these dull and boring stuff, how she bears to continue is simply unfathomable. Even Granny Lan had been duped… No, can’t call her Granny Lan anymore, she’ll have me beaten to death…”

“Oh God, I’m going insane. A bunch of old hags, aged by the thousands but looking youthful as my sister. Had even convinced Anna to consider rebirth into a witch, claiming it was better to do it early to remain youthful forever, that it won’t be as effective when she is older. Insanity, they haven’t even lived enough and already considering death.”

As Luther muttered under his breath, he cautiously glanced around to make sure that his Sword Saint senses did not miss anything. No one was around close enough to hear his complaints.

With another look, he spotted something. There, not far off in a crevice of a rock, Blackface, Feilin’s pet ghost, was lurking and staring at him.

“Haha, good morning, Blackface.” Luther chuckled, “I’m off to see Miss Lisa.” With a whoosh, he vanished.

The glowing area was now developed into an altar. Though rudimentary, built from large stones and shale, it made use of an array of techniques.

Granny Lan had explained it to him before – for instance, the height of the stone platform was designed to make worshippers look up, thereby creating an illusion of the person on the platform appearing much larger.

The stone pillars and shale partially surrounding the platform were calculated and arranged at specific angles. When someone on the platform spoke, their voice would get reflected by the pillars and shale, creating an echo, making the voice sound deeper and grander.

The direction of the altar was carefully chosen to ensure light coming between the cracks of the pillars behind would illuminate the person, casting a halo of light and shadow that made the figure on the platform seem even more imposing and holy.

Gosh! All this left Luther stunned. Who knew there was so much to an altar? Wasn’t it all just about gathering for a feast?

Granny Lan gave him a sideways glance and remarked, “Lisa once said, beliefs can be devout, but spreading beliefs requires skills.”

Being young, Luther failed to comprehend the meaning behind these words and was suspicious about their high and mighty talk, he only trusted Lord Ange.

Luther intended to approach only after the ceremonial rites were completed to inquire about Lord Ange’s whereabouts, but Lisa had already started hollering from the platform:

“People, Master Ange is beckoning us. He is at the distant River of the Dead, formerly the Demon Valley, tamed the Resting Wind. Barren wastelands are turned into fertile soil, Master Ange is calling upon us to cultivate the lush fields. Everyone with farming skills, please gather around. We’ll leave soon, the rest can keep digging.”

Before Lisa could finish speaking, chaos broke out below the platform. “What? Tamed the Resting Wind? The Resting Wind has been tamed?”

“How is that possible? That is the Resting Wind, blowing for over a thousand years. It was still blowing last night, how could it be tamed?”

“Why not? That is our Lord Ange, didn’t you witness the miracle when Lord

Ange turned the barren soil into rich fields with grains reaching to the ground? Taming the Resting Wind, what’s so impossible about that? It has been said that the Resting Wind had been tamed in the Demon Valley, maybe it has already stopped there.”

“Taming the Resting Wind, does this mean we can plant a lot of grains?”

“Not just grains, but also fruit trees. Harvest fruits to eat and tree barks for making furniture, farming equipment, and coffins.”

“Yes, yes, coffins, if we had coffins, then my parent’s bodies wouldn’t have had to be buried in the wilderness. Now, I need to look all over the place every year when I go to pay my respects, who knows where their bodies have drifted off to. ”

“Can we grow other stuff? Can we plant Minotaurs?”

“Silly child, we can’t grow Minotaurs.”

Lisa’s words filled everyone with hope. Due to the land restrictions of Ice City and Witch City, even growing grains was a struggle, let alone any other crops.

The most important economic crop was supposed to be the tree. Even among the Elf Clan, the tree was the most important thing, offering no competition. It could offer fruits to serve as food.

But without trees, there would be no wood products, such as furniture, farming equipment, dining utensils, or even window frames. Everything had to be made of more time-consuming and brittle stone material.

With no trees, there were no ropes made from tree bark, they had to rely on the weak, fragile grass ropes made from stalks to bind doors. Why there were only three crossbow machines in Ice City? Because there were no trees. Why were there no railings for the terraced fields in the Great Rift? No trees. Why were the houses in Witch City all made of stone? Still no trees.

Trees, cotton, hemp, beans, bamboos, countless things could be grown out from the earth. The common clothing, cooking oil, vehicles, tools, and weapons readily available in the Material Plane were luxuries here.

One couldn’t understand the hardship of this world without having lived in it. It was already tough just to survive, bringing up keywords like birth… perhaps only the Undead had the right to exist in this world.

If they genuinely tamed the Resting Wind, this world was bound to be wonderful.

While others needed to pack up and start their journey, Luther simply darted off as soon as Lisa finished speaking, leaving a cloud of dust behind as he disappeared into the horizon.

Considering that the Sword Saint was, after all, the Sword Saint, he ran faster than a galloping horse and ate the remaining half of his precious beetroot jerky along the way to arrive at the Demon Valley just before dusk. From a distance, he could see a tree on the barren land, a little sapling as tall as his shoulder.

The sight of the tree startled Luther into a sliding stop, nearly ending up right in front of the sapling.

“This…this…there is a tree here?! There’s a tree! A tree!” Luther was so exhilarated that he became verbally incontinent. Besides ‘tree,’ he knew not what else to say.

He glanced around and seeing no one else, Luther was at a loss as to what to do. It felt like he should protect this precious tree to prevent the Resting Wind from blowing it away when it picked up.

But how could he protect it? After searching around and failing to find any stones he could have used to build a protecting barrier around it.

Deciding to use soil instead, Luther looked at the sky and figured he would have enough time. He set aside his longsword, concentrated energy into his hands, and began digging. Loams of dirt flew in every direction from his feet..