Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

Some people tend to overlook other things when they’re emotional. Things like Ange with his large sickle, Little Zombie in Soul Armor, Rogge cloaked in dark aura, and the three young dragons; two golden and one silver.

It wasn’t until one of the two under the pergolas finally spoke, “Stupid fool with no sense of death.”

The two under the pergolas moved forward, beetles dropped from under them with each step they took. The beetles crawled into the ground upon landing. A trail of beetles was left behind them as they moved, the sight sent shivers down the spines of Domit and the other desert thieves.

What were they escorting? Why were there so many bugs on them?

A desert thief nearest to them was grabbed by one of the figures under pergolas. The captor revealed a dry, skinny hand wrapped in a black bandage. Flying insects, akin to mosquitoes, buzzed out from between his hand and the pergola, rushing towards the thief.

The bandit’s skin bristled as he screamed, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the insects invaded, causing him to choke and then fall, convulsing on the ground.

Everyone was stunned by this sudden incident. How could Domit have foreseen that the men they had escorted would suddenly turn on them?

If it had been a traditional battle, the thieves might have drawn their swords, but the insects were too eerie. For a moment, everyone instinctively cried out and backed away.

But it was no use. Swarms of insects flew out from under the pergolas, descending upon the thieves like dark smoke, burrowing into their clothes, biting through skin, or tunneling through the orifices of their faces.

Within moments, the desert thieves were writhing on the ground. Even the horses they rode in on were not spared.

“So the many auras you mentioned refer to these creatures,” Negris realized.

Domit was the only surviving desert thief. While he had a myriad of curses brewing in his heart, they all eventually morphed into a single plea: “Spare… spare me…”

One of the figures under pergolas leaned in and whispered: “You’re so dense and blind. Even if I spare you this time, you’d still meet death next time. Can’t you see that there are several powerful individuals and numerous young dragons over there? Even that little girl, whom you’re ogling, is brimming with the Power of Holy Light.”

As he said this, the figure under the pergola turned Domit’s face towards Ange and the others. Upon this stranger’s prompting, Domit finally noticed the others. His emotion no longer clouding his vision, he understood what these individuals signified.

Just the presence of the three young dragons was enough to intimidate him. Where there were three young dragons, there must be a mature dragon, right?

“Instead of dying a fool, why not transform into Yin and become the nourishment for Lord Hermorthos,” the figure under the pergola concluded. Domit felt a sharp pain in his chest. The dry and skinny hand of the figure had penetrated his chest.

Domit’s wound twitched, as if something was burrowing into it. After retracting his hand, the figure left Domit to collapse onto the ground, powerless.

At last, the figures under the pergolas turned around and bowed, “Esteemed beings, we meant no offense. These desert thieves are not associated with us. Their actions do not represent us. We are devotees of Lord Hermorthos, and our journey here was solely to search for lush, verdant lands.”

“Hermorthos? Never heard of him. Where did he come from? A new god? Quite a peculiar method.” Negris muttered. As the God of Knowledge, he had heard about any deity worth mentioning, yet Hermorthos was unknown to him.

But it wasn’t surprising. The world had a vast array of faiths; even the most dominant Light couldn’t illuminate every dark corner. Hermorthos was probably an obscure minor deity.

“Ah, devotees of Hermorthos, hello there. I think I heard you mention ‘Yin’ when you were talking to him just now? What is Yin?” asked Negris.

The two figures under the pergolas exchanged a glance. Even though their eyes were hidden underneath their robes, they seemed to understand each other’s intention.

‘Yin’ is the term Lord Hermorthos uses to describe the most bountiful substance in this world. Upon Yin, all things can flourish. Dead woods spring forth with life, desiccated bones can be revived, decrepit elders can regain their youth, even the disabled and ill can regrow limbs. There are no flaws and no pain in the world. As long as we find the place with the most abundant plants, we’ve found Yin. It is Lord Hermorthos’s gift to the world!” After a pause, the figure added, “Would you like to know more? Join our Chaos Temple and through prayer, you will understand.” They both held out small booklets.

So their previous glance was to decide whether to preach to Negris and the others?

Ange’s eyes glinted with interest. Yin… it sounded like a combination of Holy Essence Liquid, Life Essence, and Dragon Soil. Could it grow anything? Was there such a potent fertilizer?

Negris felt an absurd sensation. Just a few minutes ago, they were still dealing with bullies trying to claim the bride’s first night. Before they had time to act, the bullies were killed by these two robed figures the bullies had brought. After only a brief exchange, the robed figures started preaching their religion. It was absurdly amusing.

Better to leave unnecessary matters untouched. Even though they were unsure of Hermorthos’s and Chaos Temple’s origins, and the way the robed figures handled things was bizarre, they couldn’t just kill them, could they?

Negris shook his head, “No thanks. If there’s no…” Before he could finish his sentence, Ange suddenly slammed the handle of his sickle into the ground.