Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

On the surface of East River, countless boats of all sizes were densely packed. Some had sails, some with oars, and some simply drifted with the current. Onboard were feeble and malnourished humans, males and females, old and young alike, all bearing the appearance of refugees.

East River was not an official name; it referred to the river that flowed into the Fallen Dragon Lake from the east. The river wasn’t wide, at most twenty meters.

The depth of the water was not deep either, only capable of accommodating various medium and small-sized flat-bottomed boats. However, the journey wasn’t entirely smooth sailing, some areas were too shallow, requiring boatmen or smaller vessels to tow the larger ones.

Being on a medium-sized boat or a small boat with a canopy wasn’t all bad. It provided shelter from the scorching sunlight. But for those on the small boats without canopies, they had to cover their bodies and heads with clothes, periodically splashing themselves with river water to cool down.

Repeated drenchings and exposure to sunlight took a toll on their skin, causing it to peel and crack open.

The leading medium-sized ship was a sailboat, which was the largest vessel in the whole fleet.

A figure wearing a black hood, concealed from head to toe, stood on the ship’s side, anxiously gazing into the distance.

Behind him were several black-armored knights dressed in black, though their armor was somewhat faded and deteriorated, giving them a motley and antiquated appearance.

One of the knights asked, “My lord, are there truly sources of food here that could support the survival of these thousands of people? I heard that the water in the Fallen Dragon Lake is salty.”

The hooded figure replied, “Of course, there are. The land here is flat, and reeds grow plentifully. In theory, it is suitable for cultivation. As long as we find one village and see if they are growing crops, we will know if it’s possible to plant anything. Even if we can’t plant crops, the fish and shrimps in the river will be enough to keep everyone alive. It’s still better than staying at our original place and getting bitten by insects.”

Remembering the massive swarm of insects, both the hooded man and all the black-armored knights felt a chill creep down their spines. That was precisely why they chose to flee into the desert – the bugs couldn’t survive in such conditions and would perish under the scorching sun.

As expected, the insects disappeared as their fleet entered the desert.

This was the right choice. However, the desolate landscape they saw worried them. If they ran out of food, would they starve to death in the desert and become mere piles of bones buried in the sand?

“What if, the people here refuse to accept us and decide to drive us away? I heard many of them have backgrounds as bandits,” the black-armored knight asked anxiously.

Their group of over ten thousand already counted as refugees. No place could accommodate that many all at once, especially considering the scarcity of food. They were bound to be turned away.

The hooded man said angrily, “Is the sword in your hand just for decoration? Whoever wants to drive us away, be it one person or one group, we shall kill them to protect these people who wholeheartedly trust and follow us!”

The hooded man shouted fervently, and all the black-armored knights responded in a similar uproar, as if they had been injected with chicken blood.

After the boat docked, the black-armored knights mounted their beloved war horses, surged onto the shore like a crazy tide, and collided head-on with Ange who was ready for a fight.

With one tap of his magic wand, the hooded man’s voice echoed from afar, “People of the village before us, we come here to settle and …”

Before he finished speaking, he recognized Ange’s appearance, fell to his knees in shock, and blurted out, “Holy cow! Lord Ange? Ascetic Monk Ange!”

The black-armored knights next to him shunned down on hearing the name, with a few even sliding from their horses in shock.

Ange, who was approaching with a large scythe, tilted his head in confusion, “Who are you?”

The hooded man lifted his hood, revealing an old face, “It’s me, my lord. Fala! Fala from Mara Town, who escorted you to Klun Town from Mara Town. Do you remember me?”

When Ange saw the old face, he remembered. He turned his gaze to the black-armored knights, “And them.”

The black-armored knights were all trembling in fear, taking their helmets off to reveal a group of familiar faces, all were from the platoon that escorted Ange. Now they all shrank back, didn’t dare make eye contact with Ange.

It’s no wonder they were scared. The incident when Ange drove Shamara away made a deep impression on them, and now Shamara had become a terrifying Fallen Angel.

Who’d need to talk about Ange’s power when he could chase away a Fallen Angel?

Moreover, Ange was an Ascetic Monk, a fact they completely believed. As for them now? Touched by corruption, they were fallen apostles, who dared to cross an Ascetic Monk. Would Ange purify them on the spot?

Negris flew over hurriedly, “Eh, it’s you guys? How do you end up here? Didn’t… some guy say you were corrupted by Shamara and formed something called the Fallen Legion? Are you here to occupy this place?”

Negris had seen them from Ange’s perspective, but they hadn’t seen the Bronze Dragon before.

Upon seeing Negris, a lightbulb went off in Fala’s head, “A bronze juvenile dragon! Assassins! you are the ones who assassinated Nikola!”

All the knights were frozen at once, “What? Lord Ange, with the power of pure holy light, who made the Fallen Angel Shamara flee, is actually the assassin who killed Nikola?”

Though the reality sounded outrageous, seen as a presumption it could explain a lot. That’s why they could never find the trace of the assassins, despite setting up numerous checkpoints. Now they realized they themselves had escorted the assassins all along during their journey.