Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

He didn’t know if it was due to his lack of faith, or the Gods of Light were simply indifferent to the likes of him.

But why did the old noble Lord Hull, who never prayed, receive miraculous blessings? He had fallen from his horse and been paralyzed, yet his condition mysteriously cured. The last time they met in town, he almost got whipped for blocking his horse.

But even knowing that miracles are impossible, what could Old Buck do?

This was their only hope. They could not even drink clean water. The place was teeming with unsubsided floodwaters, making it difficult to find clean firewood to boil the water. People had to drink the murky raw water, and many of them started vomiting and having diarrhea. What else could they do aside from praying to the gods?

Rather than dying in desperate and resentful circumstances, it was better to hypnotize oneself with prayers and gain fleeting peace before succumbing quietly to death. Old Buck, who had lived for more than half his life, no longer begged for miracles. He only wished to lead everyone to a peaceful death.

As the believers in the image prayed, strands of holy light gathered on the crystal monument, slowly forming a transparent crystal.

“A Holy Crystal?” Negris recognized it at once. Shamara had exchanged several Holy Crystals before, but they were all black. Now, he finally saw a white Holy Crystal.

“So the Holy Crystals are formed by the faith of believers, isn’t that the Faith Elemental Force? The same as Ange’s Soul Crystal? What about Shamara? How did she get her black Holy Crystal? Does she have believers too?” One question after another arose in Negris’s heart.

Ange made a gesture towards the Holy Crystal, and it flew into his hand. After examining it for a moment, he put it away in the Temple of Rest.

Seeing his actions, Negris knew what he was thinking and hurriedly cleared the space in front of the crystal monument.

In the spirit of fair exchange, since Ange took the Holy Crystal, naturally he had to give something back.

Ange brought forth the Holy Light and reached into the monument.

Old Buck jumped up in excitement, holding up his right hand in panic and disbelief: “It’s… it’s lit. It’s lit.”

Old Buck, who never thought he would witness a miracle, held up his panicked right hand, not knowing what to do: “What should we do? It’s lit, it’s lit. The Gods of Light have answered us.”

Negris murmured to himself, thinking: Response from the Gods? Wishful thinking. These crystal monuments are being used by the Holy Spirit Angels. Given the intelligence of the Holy Spirit Angels, it’s probably more like an automated response.

The rest of the villagers were also stunned. Old Buck was too overwhelmed by the event and didn’t know what to do, let alone them.

Ange tilted his head and moved his hand towards the barrel.

Before he knew it, Old Buck’s right hand was forced on its own into the water barrel.

The hand in the water emitted a holy glow and the murky water turned clear rapidly. Even the mud that had sunk to the bottom of the barrel was thoroughly cleansed.

Before long, a barrel of crystal-clear water, even cleaner than well water, appeared in the barrel.

Old Buck and the villagers tremblingly gathered around the barrel, mumbling: “We’re saved, we’re saved.”

As the image gradually disappeared, Negris kept circling the monument and murmuring:

“This monument is quite strange. It assists with the projection of power. Normally, projecting power to the Prime Material Plane would cause a loss of at least tenfold, but with the assistance of the monument, the loss is much less. Ange, how much less is the loss when you project power onto the silver coin compared to using the monument?”

Ange silently calculated for a moment, then replied: “Five times less.”

“Tsk tsk, five times less. No wonder no one can defeat the Church of Light. Other people lose more than tenfold in projection, while they only lose a few times. No wonder the Holy Spirit Possessions are so powerful. Even if you, Ange, were to possess the silver coin yourself, you would not be able to defeat a priest with Angel’s Descent.” Negris sighed.

The prosperity of the Church of Light was not random. They even had an advantage in projecting power.

Just as he was speaking, the monument lit up again.

“Tsk, here it comes again. Business at the Church of Light sure is busy, huh?” As he spoke, the monument displayed an image. It was still Old Buck and the group of villagers.

“O, Almighty Lord, your people are suffering from the torment of hunger. Pray, save us and bestow bountiful food upon us…”

Old Buck gave the sick villagers holy water, which almost instantly took effect. Their vomiting and diarrhoea stopped, and they started clamoring with hunger.

The disaster-stricken villagers, drenched and weary, clung to their last straw of hope, once again offering their devout belief, praying for divine mercy.

Another Holy Crystal was forming. Perhaps due to the success of the previous prayer, their faith was more steadfast, hence the crystal formed more rapidly.

Ange grabbed it and turned out a bag of grain, stuffing it into the stele.

A bag of grain abruptly appeared before Old Buck.

Old Buck was stunned. It was one thing to receive a response from the gods for the first time, but how could the Gods of Light be so responsive?

This isn’t right; this doesn’t match the descriptions in the Holy Code and legendary epics, does it?

Ange’s responsiveness made Old Buck question his life. Yet, the bag of grain was factual. After opening it, he found it full of plump, fresh grain.

Chewing the raw grain, Old Buck found it a bit unpalatable. Then, a villager with an oily face sidled up and asked tentatively, “Old Buck, should we pray to the gods again for some firewood? Raw grain tastes awful.”

Old Buck glanced at him and said, “As long as you harbor faith, the Light will respond to your prayers. Go on.”

The oily villager withdrew with a sheepish smile, “Would the gods really respond to me, hehe, hehe.” He was self-aware after all.

The crystal stele darkened and lit up again, terribly busy.

Unsurprisingly, the faith base of the Church of Light is too solid. They have billions of believers who pray anywhere and anytime. Among them are many with unwavering faith. One stele is never enough to handle them all.

After Ange process a few more times, Negris stopped him, “Alright, alright, I roughly understand the function of these stelae now. Don’t respond to them anymore. Otherwise, they will think it’s the favor of the Gods of Light and will focus all their faith on the Gods of Light.”

Ange shook his head.

“What do you mean by shaking your head?” Negris asked.

“It’s here, shifted here.” Ange stared at something, and the Ring of Balance appeared slowly behind his head.

“Shifted to the Ring of Balance? The prayers you’ve answered, the Faith Elemental Force, all came here?” Negris asked, astounded.

Ange nodded.

“But… but this isn’t divine power, can you use the Ring of Balance to steal the faith of the Light system, like Shamara did, a false god?” Negris asked.

“No, they’ve always been… aimed here.” Ange pointed to the Ring of Balance, speaking with exasperation. He didn’t know how else to explain it clearly.

Luckily, Negris was accustomed to Ange’s way of speaking and guessed, “You mean, after you’ve answered them, these believers’ Power of Faith is always directed towards you?”

Ange nodded.

“Kvada, if that’s the case, you are not stealing their faith, you are stealing their believers, you have undercut their foundation.” Negris said, taken aback.

Although Shamara stole faith, she was still within the Light system. Ange, on the other hand, was undermining it at its very roots.

Just as he was about to say more, Feilin hurriedly ran in, excitedly announcing, “Master, the plantman has sprouted! The plantman you sowed has sprouted!”

“Sprouted?” Ange was somewhat surprised since the one planted in the Temple of Rest hadn’t sprouted yet, even after several days. The one that he had recently planted hadn’t been in the ground a day, and it had sprouted?

“However, the shoot seems a little wilted. Master, please come and take a look.” Feilin urged anxiously.