Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

When it turned to Ange, it made a mechanical sound: “A skeleton.”

“A corpse dragon, a zombie, an angel…beep beep beep, alarm alarm, angel detected, angel detected.” Its gaze circled over everyone, finally landing on the Little Angel, at which point the mechanical construct immediately initiated an alarm.

The Little Angel puffed out his cheeks and, in a flash, unfurled his light wings, but Ange scooped him up before the Holy Light could flash.

“Roar!”

“Roar!” The Little Angel defied, pointing a little hand at the construct.

“Roar! Roar!”

The Little Angel sulked, turned his back, squatted on the ground, and angrily prodded the ground.

Durken stepped over, raised his cape, and shielded the Little Angel.

With the Little Angel out of sight, the construct’s alarms finally subsided, its gaze continuing to move.

Negris couldn’t help but lean over and whispered, “Is this thing that stupid? Couldn’t it be a little smarter? Even a random undead wouldn’t be this foolish.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Durken exclaimed in alarm, “This thing is buried as a backup. If you bury a soul, isn’t that equivalent to imprisonment? The king would roast your soul if he knew.”

“Oh, oh, oh, right, right, right, I was wrong, it’s too cruel to trap a soul in one place. Although, I bet Ange would be quite happy if you trapped him on a farm.” Negris quickly apologized.

He was not a natural undead, so sometimes he didn’t react in time. If an undead really was sealed in a construct, wouldn’t that be equivalent to indirect imprisonment? This is something that can’t be tolerated in undead morality.

Even for the Guardian Constructs, only Petersburg had consciousness. It wasn’t that the others couldn’t produce it, but to stay in the same place for a long period of time was too cruel, and akin to indirect imprisonment for an eternal soul.

“Witch Windmill—Inspection—Intact—Start-up.” At this time, the construct had also discovered the Witch’s Windmill. It immediately strode over for inspection and, having found it in good condition, pulled out its force arm from its back, inserted it into the windmill.

“Huh, is it that simple?” Negris wondered.

Durken was also very surprised: “It seems so.”

With the rotation of the force arm, the windmill blades also began to rotate. When it started to spin, everybody noticed that the blades were hollow, they couldn’t catch the wind, but they did manage to confine ‘something else’ in the air.

When the blades reached their peak speed, the construct stopped. Without it cranking the force arm, the windmill could now operate on its own.

The blades were extracting soul energy from the air to power the windmill, allowing it to continue to run, until there was enough excess to solidify into a Soul Crystal.

Thirty seconds later, a crisp sound rang out as if something had fallen off the base of the windmill.

Upon opening it, behold, a Soul Crystal was there.

“Can it really extract Soul Crystals? How does it manage to do that?” Negris looked at the Soul Crystal, trying to penetrate the windmill with his thoughts.

However, just like at the beginning, the core of the windmill was made of a material that blocked his thoughts, so Negris couldn’t scan the inside.

“Should we dismantle it and take a look?”

“Yes, yes, I’ve wanted to see for a while.”

“Forget it, forget it, it will be bad if we can’t put it back together.”

They hadn’t talked for long before they heard another dinging sound.

As more and more Soul Crystals were extracted, Negris calculated the rate: “About one Soul Crystal can be extracted every thirty seconds.”

“This is related to the concentration of the soul energy in this space. As the concentration decreases, the speed will slow down,” Durken said.

“Not too slow though. Sigh, how did the witch do it? What kind of existence is this witch, why can’t I remember her?” Negris lamented regretfully.

Don’t look at the extraction speed of the witch’s windmill as being not fast, one every thirty seconds, only one hundred and twenty an hour, and less than three thousand a day if it ran non-stop. But what is soul energy? This is the power at the level of faith, the same thing as the Faith Elemental Force.

In other words, the witch used this device to achieve what only gods can do. If it could extract Soul Crystals here, could it extract Holy Crystals if placed in the curia?

Huh, good idea, it’s worth a try.

“Ange, why don’t we…” Turning his head, Negris got the shock of his life. All the boxes behind him were gone, and Ange was holding the little angel in his left hand and the Great Angel’s Staff in his right.

“Roar!” Ange gestured with the Great Angel’s Staff.

The Little Angel stomped its feet in anger, “Roar!”

Ange slammed the Great Angel’s Staff into the ground and clenched his fist. “Roar!”

The Little Angel stretched out its hand and pointed at the Great Angel’s Staff. “Roar–”

Ange finally let go of it.

The Little Angel picked up the Great Angel’s Staff and quickly became excited. The earlier unhappiness was already thrown into the abyss. It began to swing the staff around and with a “plop,” it sent an approaching Little Zombie flying.

“Roar!” The Little Zombie was angry and conjured a shield before charging over.

The Little Angel, wielding the Great Angel’s Staff, got into a tussle with the Little Zombie.

Not long afterward, the Little Angel trailing a green-faced Little Zombie, came back with the Great Angel’s Staff broken into two pieces and a dejected look on its face.

“Roar!” The Little Angel lifted the two pieces of the Great Angel’s Staff in front of Durken.

“What? It broke? Did you hit it on a rock or something? This could break? No, no, I’m not going to fix it, too tired.” Durken waved his hands in astonishment.

The Little Angel cocked its head to one side, and quickly plucked a feather from behind it and presented it to Durken.

“Eh, a feather from a Four-Winged Angel. Oh no, I can’t accept this, absolutely not. I absolutely can’t accept your Angel’s Feather.” Durken was declining with his mouth but his hand was quick to scoop up the Angel’s Feather which promptly disappeared.

“Alright, leave it here, come back in half an hour to pick it up,” Durken said.

Negris retreated back into the Temple of Rest and found the disappeared boxes. “Those skeleton’s are quick. Alright, it’s all packed up now,” he said.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a skeleton walked over, with Feiti’s voice emanating from it. “Eh, these boxes look very familiar. Where have I seen them?”

“This is the Temple of Rest. What’s there that you don’t recognize? These boxes have been here for a long time,” Negris bluffed.

“Oh right, okay then. I’ve finished my stroll. Nothing has changed here, it’s still the same as before. The King’s palace is still unopenable and the Guardian God Emperor in front of the palace is also gone,” Feiti said.

“Guardian God Emperor?! What’s that?” Negris asked.

“The Guardian God Emperor of the King’s palace,” Feiti said, sending an image telepathically.

It was a huge steel statue standing at the entrance of the main hall, with its hands supporting a sword on the ground, its face expressionless.

Negris started in surprise; he had never seen this thing before. There was such a thing at the entrance of the main hall?

The Bronze Book whizzed to the front of the main hall where Feiti’s transmitted image was. At this moment, the spot was completely empty. The giant statue that was probably ten meters tall had disappeared without a trace. Even the imprints on the ground were covered by cemetery grass.

If Feiti hadn’t mentioned it, nobody would have known that there was once an iron statue here.

This statue was the Guardian God Emperor, the level of which was clearly higher than that of the Gatekeeper God.

Upon asking, Durken was shocked and said, “That statue is a Guardian God? I didn’t make it, I thought it was just a statue. Could Feiti have remembered it wrong?”

Negris quietly said, “Ange, put the Witch Windmill in, move it further away, then take Feiti out. Don’t let him see the Windmill to avoid him claiming it’s his. These are all assets of the Undead Empire and belong to the Temple of Rest.”

“Okay.” Ange complied, stuffing the Witch Windmill in and lifting Feiti out.

In response to Durken’s question, Feiti shook his head, “I didn’t get it wrong. I fought with it and I lost.”

“Pfft… Lord of Mourning, you couldn’t beat the Guardian God Emperor? Kvada, was that statue that terrifying?”

That seemed correct though, how could it be unguarded when it was protecting the palace of the Undead King? This powerful Guardian God Emperor has gone where?

“The Undead Empire really has a solid foundation,” Negris couldn’t help but sigh.

Why, why wasn’t it him who inherited the legacy! That lucky skeleton! Negris’s face started to twitch with bitterness.

As they were chatting, Ange was observing the surroundings and suddenly pointed to the distant horizon and said, “This place is like Heaven.”

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