Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

The man didn’t seem to care. He knelt by the road, his face expressing a mix of emotions – crying, laughter, and a vacant stare as if he were lost in thought. Once he calmed down, he slowly nodded towards Ange, speaking deliberately, “Castrato singer, Senlide, thanking my Lord for granting me… Rebirth.”

Ange, as if sensing something, looked up. He only saw a large Soul Flame from Senlide hovering towards him, and a symbol materialized within his soul.

This Soul Flame didn’t drift towards Little Angel like others did, instead, it went straight to Ange. Apparently, what Senlide worshipped wasn’t Light, but Ange himself.

Another follower with a symbol? It had been a while since Ange had met a follower who could form a symbol. Ange couldn’t even remember how many such followers he had. Was it five or six?

Forming a symbol wasn’t particularly special; what was special was…

In Ange’s hands, a Holy Light rose. Compared to the light of the Face Purification Technique, this Holy Light underwent a different change. Senlide, like Lisa, had defined his own concept of Holy Light. This Holy Light was called – Rebirth.

Ange tilted his head and called out into the distance, “Roar!”

No one came for a good while.

Ange finally reacted and called again, “Lightning!”

Lightning tumbled out, a hint of panic in his voice, “Here! Here! What does the Lord need?!” He looked as though he had narrowly escaped from the clutches of evil.

Ange rubbed his newly acquired ‘light’ on Lightning’s broken horn.

More than half of Lightning’s horn had already grown back. Only a little sharp bit at the tip was left, which was the most difficult part. Even the Holy Essence Liquid and Face Purification Technique didn’t seem to help. Lightning even secretly ate a bunch of World Tree shoots, but the horn still wouldn’t grow.

Lightning was starting to feel hopeless. Anyway, his half-grown horn didn’t impede his Thunder Power. He had even learned how to float in the air; having a shorter horn wasn’t that big of a deal.

However, under the illumination of this light, the missing piece of the horn began to slowly grow back at a visible pace.

“Wow! Lord, have you advanced your Face Purification Technique?” Lightning assumed this was Ange’s work.

After a few dozen seconds, the broken horn had perfectly regrown under the guidance of the light.

“Hahaha, I, the Son of Thunder, Lord Lightning, has returned!” Lightning raised his newly-grown horn and hoof, standing on his hind legs, laughing madly.

The sound echoed far away, and the distant voice of Purple Corpse responded, “Lightning, come back!”

“Oh.” Lightning obediently trotted back. What did it matter if his horn had fully grown back? The Son of Thunder could never outmatch his Lord of Thunder.

Learning from Senlide’s previous experience, the group of castratos in the middle began to follow his method: they started to open their coats or take off their clothes in advance. This miraculous way of growing mushrooms on their bodies attracted a crowd.

Amid gasps of surprise, waves of Faith Elemental Force surged towards Little Angel. For most people, this miracle was even more awe-striking than the average miracle.

Nagris, who was alarmed by the commotion, flew over for a look. He couldn’t help but say, “This method is too efficient. Next time we need more Soul Flames, we should gather everyone, cut someone, let them regrow, and then repeat. We would certainly harvest a large amount of Soul Flames.”

“Come, come, come, let me teach you all how to dig a burrow.” Orum, who once issued Ange’s land certificate, held up a horn and loudly instructed, “First, bundle these reeds together and lay them flat on the ground. Use sand to secure the edges, see? Press it tightly.”

“Excellent, now we dig from the direction of the lake to the opposite side and make a hollow tunnel through it, you must aim it directly at the lake. Do you know why? Wind. It always blows in this way. After you’ve dug the tunnel, the wind can go through it and dissipate the heat. Otherwise, the heat inside the burrow will kill you. Understand?” Orum explained while on the verge of losing his voice.

Accommodating over fifteen thousand people with just Ange’s group and the few hundred villagers nearby was undoubtedly insufficient. Therefore, Lisa immediately mobilized manpower, bringing over a group of people with administrative experience from the Oasis to help.

The logistics of settling were overwhelming; merely teaching how to dig out subterranean shelters required considerable instruction, and speed was of the essence, otherwise, these people would not survive more than a few days exposed to the desert conditions.

As for building houses, unless there were dozens of wizards like Ange, constructing enough houses for over ten thousand people in the desert was a daunting task.

Not only was housing an issue, but even feeding everyone was a substantial problem.

“Mirror! Mirror! Who has a mirror? Hand them all over,” Dragon Speaker Sofia bellowed, holding a horn in her left hand and a brick in her right hand.

Her youthful face could be less than intimidating, so she purposefully got Naeli to join her. The problem was that Naeli, after some adjustment, was only half a meter long—with what intimidation could she exhibit? All that was visible on her deliberately stern face was cuteness.

Some mischievous children, seeing her, delightedly rushed forward to ride the big dragon, infuriating Naeli so much she wished she could breathe fire.

A group of women subtly adjusted their dresses, casually asking, “What do you need a mirror for? Mirrors are so expensive, where would we get them?”

Sofia was not dumb; she saw right through this trick: “For cooking, cooking! We need mirrors to cook. This is a desert, there’s no fuel to cook with. If you don’t want to gnaw on raw rice grains, hand over your mirrors. Let me tell you, spectral patrols roam every night. If you hand in your mirrors now, we all have food to eat. If you hoard a mirror and get caught, you and your family will be banished to the desert to die.”

Everyone was alarmed, reluctantly handing over their mirrors. Despite this, the mirrors obtained were far from enough to tackle the problem of cooking rice for over ten thousand people.

Lack of fuel like trees makes cooking a significant problem in the desert. However, sunlight is abundant and fierce—enough mirrors could be arranged in a semicircle to direct the sun’s rays, concentrating the sun’s energy to boil water and cook rice.

The staple food of Hope Oasis is green dates, so the demand for mirrors is low. But now that the staple food of Fallen Dragon Lake is rice, mirrors became an absolute necessity.

“What do we do if we don’t have mirrors?” Lisa distressedly went to Ange and Negris, looking worn out. “Should we just let everyone munch uncooked rice?”

Negris was somewhat-dismissive: “No mirror? Just make some. I remember there’s a quartz mine in Dark City, and there’s also quartz in the Oasis’s Demon Crystal Mine. Let’s use those.”

“Uh? Make them?”

A batch of quartz got transported via the Teleportation Array, and a sandstone furnace had been ‘grown’ under Negris’ guidance by Ange.

Quartz was thrown in, the fire was lit, then Ange poured in the Fire Element with all his might.

“Your magic level is too low. A Great Magician could melt glass barehanded, but now we can only rely on the furnace for assistance. We can’t make mirrors because there’s no material for the reflective layer. Just make a convex lens. It can concentrate light all the same. ” Negris rambled, directing Ange all over the place.

“Put fine sand on it, then rotate it, it’s rough grinding, then use deer skin, polishing paste, for fine grinding. Heh heh, Ange, your control power is such a waste for this.”

In no time, dozens of lenses as big as basins were ground out. They were set up one by one, adjusted, and began concentrating sunlight. Soon, the pot on the focal point started to boil.

The string of processes made Lisa and others stare in awe; it was only after the lenses were made did Lisa exclaim in astonishment, “I finally realize why they call you God of Common Sense.”

Negris thundered, his face planted into the ground, “What common sense God! It’s knowledge, knowledge! God of Knowledge!!!”

While everybody was making a fuss, Anthony’s anxious voice suddenly reached Ange’s soul:

“Sir, do you have any grain? Could you sell me some? The Black Mountain Kingdom faces an insect plague with homeless refugees. I can’t ship grains in time. Sir, could you sell me some grain and transport it to the Black Mountain Kingdom? I’m willing to offer the Earth Hammer as compensation.”