Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

Shortly after the Druids left, a goblin and an undead mounted on a bone horse returned to Holy Wall City. Before they even entered, they saw the Great Sage on his way back.

Feirick hastily greeted, “Great Sage, Great Sage, I’ve found it, I’ve found it. I’ve brought a high-yield crop that produces a thousand pounds per acre.”

The Great Sage looked at Feirick with a peculiar expression, “You also brought a crop that yields a thousand pounds per acre?”

“Also?” Feirick was dumbfounded, “Is there someone else who found high-yield crops too?”

The Great Sage relayed the matter about the Druids. Before Feirick could reply, the goblin who arrived with him uproariously declared:

“Great Sage, please beware of liars. They casually claimed to yield a thousand pounds per acre, but what proof do they have? They mentioned the Spring Breeze Cup competition, but what proof do they have? What if the crops only produce a hundred pounds per acre? Great Sage, that would mean wasting a planting season. Millions of creatures would have to endure hunger for another four months.”

Hearing the Goblin’s heartfelt words, the Great Sage could not help asking, “Who are you?”

“I’m the President of the Silver Light Mercantile Company, Goblin Silver Coin. I hope you will like this modest gift I brought when I audaciously paid this visit,” Silver Coin enthusiastically said, presenting a box with both hands.

The Great Sage was somewhat baffled. Someone was giving him a gift?

This was unprecedented for thousands of years. He was an undead, without a physical body, had lived for too long and craved nothing. People were unsure about what gift to offer, and so over time, they stopped presenting him with any.

The Great Sage was now very curious. What could this goblin possibly give him? Demon Crystal? Soul Crystal? Or…

As he opened the box, he found a piece of dull, gray moss quietly lying inside.

Feirick’s disappointed voice echoed from the side, “Moss…”

Feirick had also been quite curious about what Silver Coin would gift the Great Sage. As an undead, he had a fair sense of what could move the undead. So he had been curious all along the way, but to his surprise, it turned out to be a piece of moss. Wasn’t this an insult?

The Great Sage, however, carefully picked up the moss and said:

“This is not ordinary moss; this is Cemetery Grass. I haven’t seen it in a long time. The climate and soil of the Land of Fallen are not conducive to its growth. Planting it around a grave can bring peace to the mind and dispel spirits. Wraiths are the most afraid of this. With it, no wraiths would dare to disturb you.”

Upon hearing this, Feirick’s eyes lit up, fixated on the Cemetery Grass. For Kvada, he could overlook everything else, but not wraiths, especially since he often wandered in the outdoors and was most likely to encounter them. Their constant noise was irksome.

Killing a single wraith was easy, but to eradicate them all was a challenge. After a while, one or two would appear again from somewhere, ‘Ahh ahh ahh—ahh ahh ahh—’ their cries extremely annoying.

The Great Sage, with a nostalgic look in his eyes, said, “The Cemetery Grass grows most lushly in the garden in front of His Majesty’s Palace and inside the Underground city’s Undead Temple. I haven’t seen it in a long time. I really like this gift. How did you get it?”

With a stone-faced expression, Silver Coin answered, “I obtained it from the human mercenary guild when I was buying various novel items. I’m delighted you like it.”

Of course, it was not acquired from the mercenary guild. It was Ange who plucked it from the garden in front of the Temple of Rest.

The Great Sage did not think it was plucked from the Temple of Rest, casually asked and let it slide, and carefully closed and packed the box back into his form.

With the gift as a prop, the Great Sage found Silver Coin more amiable. Using a warm tone, as if talking to a nephew, he asked, “Why do you think the Druids might be liars?”

“No, Great Sage. It’s not that I think they are, but if they happen to be, the consequences would be severe. You would lose a planting season and possibly starve hundreds of thousands of people,” Silver Coin said solemnly.

“How many planting seasons can our food supply last?” The Great Sage asked.

“But can you guarantee that if they turn out to be liars, you’ll solve the food problem before the supplies run out?” Silver Coin asked.

The Great Sage frowned: “What do you mean? Speak straight, don’t beat around the bush.”

Even though the Great Sage’s tone was somewhat rude, Silver Coin relaxed even more. In general, people are only rude to those they are close to, which suggested that his gift had been effective.

“Great Sage, you need multiple insurance policies, like a trading company that can mobilize large amounts of food and use a teleportation array to deliver it remotely, and a druid who has high yielding crop seeds and is confident in their ability to grow food in the Land of Fallen,” Silver Coin said confidently.

“You’re sure you can mobilize large amounts of food and send them to the Land of Fallen?” The Great Sage ignored the bit about the super productive druid.

What a coincidence, two parties arrived at once. The Great Sage considered these add-ons as Silver Coin’s bargaining chips.

“No problem. If we don’t grow enough food, I’ll get more from the Master Plane,” Silver Coin confidently stated.

Of course, the Great Sage welcomed this. Just as Silver Coin had said, he needed multiple insurance policies. But he knew Silver Coin wouldn’t work for nothing and must have a request in return, so he asked, “What do you want in return?”

Silver Coin was taken aback, “Huh? Didn’t we agree on the Staff of Heaven?”

“The druids come first. If they really can produce a thousand pounds of food per acre, the Staff of Heaven would have to go to them. You can choose something else,” the Great Sage stated this clearly.

“No, Great Sage, that’s not fair. What if we can produce a thousand pounds per acre too? What if we produce a thousand and one pounds per acre? Why should the Staff of Heaven still go to them?” Silver Coin objected.

“It’s not that easy to produce a thousand pounds per acre. As long as you produce more than they do, even just by half a pound, the Staff of Heaven is yours.”

“Great, it’s a deal.” Silver Coin breathed a sigh of relief and said excitedly.

Just then, the Great Sage’s face turned pale, “No good, they’re fighting! They dare to hit my guests?! There are still people in the Land of Fallen who dare to disrespect me?!”

The angry Great Sage slammed his foot on the ground. The ground squirmed with an aura of death, and a six-horse Undead Chariot slowly emerged, carrying the Great Sage like a streak of black, speeding towards the horizon. His speed was even faster than flying.

Watching the direction in which the Great Sage was leaving, Silver Coin and Feirick glanced at each other, both shocked: “Isn’t that the direction we came from?”

“Oh no, they’re fighting with the boss!”

…

Ange and the druids such as Dobinki, and the Shadow Guards were fighting. Why were they fighting?

Of course, it’s because they had their eyes on the plot of land that Ange had prepared. The land was flat, ploughed, and even had base fertilizer added. Even in the eyes of a druid, it was outrageously fertile.

Since the Great Sage had said that they could choose any land here, and he would even move his tomb for them, they decided to choose this plot.

So the Shadow Guards emerged and landed in front of Holcuk, indifferently stating: “We’re seizing your land.”

They thought this plot was Holcuk’s. Who would have guessed that a skeleton had prepared these cultivated lands?

Holcuk was stunned, as this plot wasn’t his. So he hurriedly fetched Ange and passed on what the Shadow Guards had said.

“Rob my land?!” A flame erupted in Ange’s head, and he swung the Scythe of Death in attack.

The Shadow Guards were also rather taken aback. The one who this skeleton dared to defy was the Great Sage’s confiscation order?

All the Shadow Guards came out, surrounding Ange. Seeing this, Little Angel rushed over, Little Zombie rushed over, Negris rushed in, the Big Cat rushed over.

Big Bone also roared and rushed over, “Don’t, hit, they’re the Great Sage’s guards.”

Was it ‘don’t’ or ‘hit’? What Big Bone said left everyone clueless.