Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

Chapter 102 - 88: The Moth! Kill it!_l



“You said the Purple Corpse got hurt? Let’s go take a look.” Negris recommended.

“No.” Ange refused.

“Why?” Negris asked.

“It’s healed.”

“We should still go and look for Steadfast Locke’s bones.”

“No, they won’t fit.” Ange refused again. His hand was full, and he could only hold two arm bones. It would be useless to find more.

“Let’s just go, there’s nothing else to do. The World Tree has others to take care of it.’

“No, I need to plant some crops.” Ange said.

“The Purple Skeleton Plane is all forest, perfect for planting stuff. Didn’t you give the Purple Corpse some seeds? If they can’t grow anything, that’s all the more reason for you to help.” Negris proposed.

Ange tilted his head in thought for a while, but still shook his head: “I’ll teleport the supplies here after they’re grown.”

“You want to plant the entire plane? You…” Negris wanted to say ‘Are you crazy?’, but then realized that this skeleton was obviously crazy. He had been planting crops in the Resting Camp for more than a thousand years. Who could guarantee that in a thousand years, this plane wouldn’t be a lush tree-filled area?

But that was a problem for a thousand years later. Right now, Negris just wanted to find Locke’s grave. Time for his trump card, he decided.

Negris flew out, found an angel skeleton, and whispered something in its ear.

The Angel Skeleton then flew back to Ange, squawked once, flapped its wings and held up both its little hands in a flying gesture, calling out: “Whoosh!”

Negris was outright shocked: “You can make other sounds?” This was indeed the second sound the Angel Skeleton had made. Previously, like Little Zombie, all it could do was squawk.

Soon, everyone was ready to leave. Ange, Angel Skeleton, Little Zombie, Negris, Lightning, and oh, a little sapling and the hard-squeezed-in Beet Swordsman.

“Master, take me along. As long as I get to fight, I will be your most loyal follower,” Luther solemnly said.

Anna undercut him: “Master, don’t believe him. He just wants your dried beets. Master, please take me along. The little sapling needs a devoted follower to take care of it. I can do both watering and fertilizing.”

Seedling? Who? Ange, Angel Skeleton, Little Zombie, along with the little sapling all tilted their heads in unison, in almost the same pose.

Because Anna’s naming idea was too bad, everyone decided not to bring her. The Teleportation Array could only transport two people at a time, so Luther and Negris went in first, followed by everyone else.

Lightning had to teleport itself and had to lie down and curl up while doing so. Ange was the last to go.

There was a sudden surge of light before his eyes. When the light faded, Ange saw a tense scene — the Purple Corpse was swinging an axe at the Angel Skeleton. Luther, using all his might, was barely holding off the Purple Corpse’s attack while the Angel Skeleton was spreading its wings, preparing to strike back.

An early-stage Swordsaint struggling to ward off an attack? That shouldn’t be the case, even in a sudden situation.

But strangely, he was indeed struggling, because the Purple Corpse was a mini-giant nearly three meters tall, and her axe was taller than half of Luther’s body. Even her brute strength alone was enough to pressure Luther.

“Roar!” Ange let out a loud cry, and a Soul Impact burst out.

The most formidable advantage of the undead is not their immortality, but their soul. It’s a natural form of mental attack. Even the slightest wraith could emit a scream, which affects you like a mosquito flying around your ear.

But the problem is, when wraiths appear, they come in hundreds or thousands. Imagine hundreds or thousands of wraiths wailing in your ears, unable to chase them away. You’d go mad in no time.

Ange, as a high-order undead with a Soul Heart, is a king among the undead. When he unleashes a full-strength Soul Impact, everyone feels like they’ve been hit by an invisible fist, immediately dazing them.

Purple Corpse is the most vulnerable. Ange possesses her faith symbol. She’ll have to kneel merely at his thoughts, much less when he launches a Soul Impact. Thus, she fell flat on her butt.

As he slowly offered the Scythe of Death, Ange asked in confusion, “Why are you attacking me?”

Unexpectedly, before he could finish his words, the tribespeople of the Purple Skeleton Clan around him all fell to their knees, worshiping in reverence, screaming out, “Scythe, God of Purple Skeleton, God of Purple Skeleton.” Purple Corpse also knelt in a fluster and terror, not knowing what to do.

The Holy Light Flash from the angel skeleton was about to release, but Ange stopped it.

“Why did you attack me?” Ange asked again, once the situation had stabilized.

Purple Corpse had come to her senses by this time. She figured out the angel skeleton was in league with Ange. She didn’t dare to lift her head and replied, feeling wronged, “Flying moth, the enemy of the God of Purple Skeleton.”

As soon as the teleportation array was activated, the first ones to be teleported were Luther and Negris. They exchanged greetings pleasantly.

Luther tried to become familiar and attempted to shake hands with Purple Corpse—this was the most popular way of greeting in their plane. He originally wanted to probe her strength, but he found her hands too big. His small hand got completely enveloped within hers.

Unable to shake hands, they resorted to fist-bumps. This time, Luther could measure her strength. Purple Corpse was not inferior to him.

He was an Early Stage Swordsaint, whilst Purple Corpse had a pure advantage with her height and her racial abilities.

Purple Corpse was the strongest among these little giants, which eased Luther’s mind. If he had the same strength as any individual picked out from these people, that would be too demoralizing.

Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, Negris whispered to him,

“These are clearly not the Purple Skeleton Clan, but a group of Mixed-Blood

Titans. They should have the divine lineage of the Thunder Titans in the clan of Titans. Look at their yellowish skin. No wonder their faith is so strong. The faith of twenty or so of them could match that of several thousand individuals. But they seem a bit underdeveloped, don’t they? Also, they have not awakened the Thunder Power. What is going on?”

“Underdeveloped? If they are underdeveloped, then what does it look like when they grow up?” Luther felt like biting into a couple of beetroot snacks to calm his nerves.

With his doubts, Negris stepped forward and asked, “Does it rain here?” “What is rain?” asked Purple Corpse, looking puzzled.

Very good, Negris understood. It never rains in this plane. Purple Corpse had no idea what rain even was.

Because of the lack of thunder elements, these Purple Skeleton Tribespeople who own the bloodline of Thunder Titans have not physically grown normally.

Not only are they shorter than ordinary Titans, but they also fall ill and die. And they have become followers of Steadfast Locke.

The second one to get transported was Lightning, which confirmed Negris’ assumption. Purple Corpse found lightning to be very dear, her eyes lit up, and she squatted down trying to pet its head. “Ah, what a cute little horse.” she exclaimed.

Horse? Little horse? Lightning was enraged right then and there, knocking its own head, “You’re the horse, you’re all horses. Look, horn, horn, horn. Unicorn, Lightning’s pet! You are the little one, your whole family is small uh uh uh…”

The rest of its words were muffled. The one-meter-seventy Lightning was held like a pet in someone’s arms and was nearly suffocated.

The third group to be transferred were the Little Zombie and the Angel

Skeleton.. Seeing the Angel Skeleton, all the members of the Purple Skeleton

Clan panicked, hastily picked up their weapons, and began to shout, “Flying moth! Kill it!”


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