Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

The scarecrow hat is a very basic prop, only capable of producing a handful of illusions and easily seen through by outsiders with equivalent spiritual power.

However, this simple prop is perfectly suitable for Ange. His spiritual power is extremely strong. When he puts on the hat, even truth seekers like Brooks couldn’t see through it.

But, as suitable as it is, it’s still just a basic prop, not some unbreakable object. To be honest, the fact that it managed to survive over a thousand years without breaking is already quite unusual, mainly due to its limited self-repairing ability.

This repairing ability has its limits. Small scratches can be healed, but large damage is beyond its capability.

“It’s broken…” Ange picked up the hat, clenching the broken edges with a disappointed look.

“Yes, it’s broken. You should patch it up. Ask someone who knows how to fix scarecrow hats, or you could buy a new one,” Negris said regretfully.

Ange nodded. That was the only option.

At the world transit station, Petersburg was removed and returned to his Divine Seat.

Upon feeling the steady, unending energy flowing from the Divine Seat beneath his feet, Petersburg breathed a sigh of relief, “Even though it often runs out of energy, standing on it still feels more reassuring.”

“Fine then, we won’t take you out anymore. I’ll have Ange replace you with another guardian,” Negris responded.

He didn’t expect that taking a guardian away from his Divine Seat would make them uneasy. If that’s the case, he might as well replace them with a less sentient one to avoid causing Petersburg anxiety.

Petersburg’s hand shot out, clutching Negris tightly, “I misspoke earlier. Being by your side, Lord, gives me even more peace of mind.”

“Uh, which one makes you more uneasy?”

“Being with you, oh, no, staying here is more unsettling.”

“Alright then, I’ll take you with me from now on.”

“To serve you, my Lord!” Petersburg sighed in relief, he never thought a casual comment could almost cost him his job.

Nearly all the followers in the plane were gathered together. They kneeled in the cleaned out lower level of the transit station, gazing up at the lofty Ange and praying devoutly.

“Great Lord Ange, He who holds the Light of Face Purification, smoothing wounds… He stands eight feet tall, handsome and imposing, with a body sturdy as a pillar reaching up to the sky, his gaze pierces the fog like lightning…” Bard Conan’s voice echoed throughout the transit station.

The handsome bard has now become a loyal subordinate under Lisa’s command.

Whether it’s heroic deeds or miraculous wonders, they all need to be spread far and wide.

How to spread them? Apart from writing poems, composing operas, and writing novels, the most common method is via bards.

They wander from street to street, spreading your deeds in the form of songs.

A good bard is the best faith propagator, so when Lisa learned that among the Undead in Dark City there was a bard, she immediately recruited him without a second thought.

Now, the number of bards cultivated by the Gate has reached more than a dozen. This is a basic operation; the bards of the Church of Light, which they call the Choir, are not counted individually but in groups.

They travel everywhere, or station in one place, singing about Ange’s deeds in a variety of ways.

Of course, most of them are made up. This farming skeleton, apart from farming, what other deeds could be spread? Oh, he once wiped out an insect god called Hermorthos, which is worth boasting extensively.

“Ladies and gentlemen, listen to my tale. The insect God has sixteen eyes and twenty feet, swarming with insects. Our Lord Ange issued a divine decree, devout followers led the way…”

In the rhythmic chant of the bard, wave after wave of Soul Flame rushed towards Ange.

The buildup of fervor in the presence of tens of thousands of people can’t be experienced ordinarily. Even the calmest believers, under such circumstances, get infected by the zeal. Their emotions keep building up until they become fanatic.

Of course, this fervor doesn’t last, and they feel exhausted afterward. For a while, they can’t muster any energy, and their initiative to devote themselves drops significantly.

The ritual of this enormous scale, it’s like overdrawing a portion of the future’s faith, but if executed well, it could bolster everyone’s beliefs.

What we’re about to do is overdraw a period of faith.

Ange slept for half a year, without farming and seldom activating Instant Death Halo, the technique requiring the most Soul Flame. He had now accumulated what equates to half a year worth of Soul Flame.

This vast power is enough to activate the entire World Transfer Station. Especially, the Twelve Divine Seats.

For safety’s sake, Lisa convened everyone. As they pray and witness the miracle of a God of Light’s resurrection, wouldn’t that solidify their faith? This isn’t only a miracle, it’s a super miracle. If followers of the Church of Light saw this, their faith might crumble since their god was revived by others.

Unfortunately, there were no followers of the Church of Light in Resting Abyss. If there were, we would have certainly brought some to witness this.

The Twelve Divine Seats started moving, the overwhelming soul energy infused into the Divine Seat, and all the divine guardians are on standby, waiting silently.

During the times of no battles, the Twelve Divine Seats remain motionless, moving consumes too much energy, and except for Petersburg, none of the guardians possesses wisdom, not even able to talk trash.

However, within the range of the Twelve Divine Seats, even a Six-winged Archangel wouldn’t dare to teleport in. They are the ultimate weapons to protect the World Transfer Station and keep major planar powers at bay.

Surrounded by the Twelve Divine Seats, even if the God of Balance became alive again, he would be crushed all the same.

Of course, the Twelve Divine Seats are just security measures. Shamara already stood behind the stone statue, hands placed on his back, ready to corrupt him anytime.

As the day gradually turned dark, the Resting Wind slowly blew by and the basin where the World Transfer Station is located was covered by wind, as if it had turned into an isolated island.

“Let’s begin,” said Negris.

Ange, who had long been prepared, used Holy Light to wipe away the gray on the statue’s body layer by layer, restoring its flesh to its lively form.

Restoring the body to its lively form wasn’t as difficult as removing its stone texture. Half an hour later, the once gray statue has regained the regular skin tone of a living person.

Luther, who was standing nearby for vigilance, suddenly whispered to Lisa, “Grandmother… Ouch…”

“Who did you call grandmother?” Lisa gave him a sidelong glance.

“Uh, Miss Lisa, why does this God of Light look so…human?” Luther rubbed his head and asked in a low voice, grumbling to himself: Grandmother’s grip is getting stronger and stronger, it really hurts when she hits you.

Lisa’s essence is a necromancer, no matter how youthful she seems, it won’t change this fact. It is quite normal for Necromancers to have great strength, isn’t it?

“They are alive, or rather, the divine device made them have to be alive. Even if they weren’t, they would have to be anyway,” Lisa answered.

“Divine device?” Luther was confused.

“It’s complicated, I don’t understand it very well either. When you are free, go ask Lord Nage, he should be able to explain,” said Lisa.

Negris, in the distance, his ear twitching slightly, feigning nonchalance, drifted to the other side, keeping a long distance away.

During their whispered conversation, the God of Balance, who had just been revived, suddenly softened and was about to fall to the ground.

A pair of delicate and strong hands propped him up from behind.

The God of Balance, with the help of the support, barely managed to stand steady. He shook his head, looking somewhat adrift in consciousness. After he stood still, he waved his hand back without even opening his eyes, “Step back.”

Though, the strong hands didn’t step back, still holding him firmly.

This made the God of Balance frown. Without opening his eyes, he reprimanded, “Step back, can’t you hear?”

PS, I messed up the second chapter, I need to delete and rewrite.