Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton-Chapter 999 - 568: They’ve Slipped Away Already

Seeing Arambrough and the others approaching his fields, Ange got anxious for a moment, but Anthony calmed him down, until he saw that they weren’t there to destroy the crops, but to water them, and only then did he relax.

"These guys are actually quite caring, going to water the fields? Are they afraid the seeds in the ground will die of drought?" Negris exclaimed in surprise. free𝑤ebnovel.com

Ange cocked his head, his impression of Arambrough greatly improved.

Feiti spoke dismissively, "It might be out of compulsion, you know. When Your Majesty wasn’t around before, Locke was often made to fertilize and water the fields, and it was so annoyed that it felt like hitting someone whenever it came back."

Negris laughed gleefully, "Hahaha, serves it right, the Lord of Dung."

Feiti spoke leisurely, "Guess who it always hit when it came back."

The expression on Negris’s face immediately fell, "Me?"

Inside the Temple of Rest, who else could take a beating from Locke and still stand it, if not this Bronze Dragon?

"Hahaha!" It was the others’ turn to laugh at Negris’s misfortune.

"Alright, alright, stop laughing. It seems that Gust doesn’t want to launch a strong attack here, just wants to surround us and prevent this outpost from developing. If he’s really thinking that way, then that’s great, we can give him a little surprise," Anthony quickly changed the subject to spare Negris any further embarrassment.

Negris let out a sigh of relief and hurriedly shifted the topic, "Does that make any sense? If we can’t develop here, we can just develop somewhere else. What’s the use of their siege?"

"No, no, no, it’s very useful. For Undead, this is the lowest cost method because time is worthless to the Undead. Keep up the siege and humans will eventually die, while the skeletons’ bones don’t rot," Anthony explained.

As he spoke, Anthony gestured down the mountain, "These Skeleton Zombies burrow into the ground, and it’s not easy for them to come back up. They could stay there for hundreds of years. Who can outlast them?"

Negris dismissively said, "What’s there to fear? If it comes to that, we just won’t go down anymore, we’ll just stay up here in the mountains and develop our camp."

"Heh, a camp in the mountains may accommodate a thousand people, but can it also take in ten thousand? What about a hundred thousand? Wouldn’t we have to clear the entire forest? As long as we can’t scale up, this camp will never become a threat, and all they have to do is change their sleeping spot," Anthony said.

This indeed posed a problem; once the development space of a place is restricted, it can never become a threat, and all the Undead need to do is find a new place to sleep.

"So what do we do? Move somewhere else?" Negris asked.

Anthony shook his head, "Of course not. We don’t move, we stay put right here, and let them know we haven’t left, that besieging us is meaningful."

After speaking, Anthony looked up at the sky, where, above the clouds alongside two Sorcerer ladders, were several faint shadows, that of Dragon Witch Nosarlo and his companions.

However, with the forest’s concealment, Nosarlo couldn’t see Ange and the others and wasn’t inclined to look down, busily entangled with the Sorcerer ladders.

This kind of aerial entanglement was actually very dangerous. Gaddarigo was too careless at first and got his soul blasted outright, and now Ange had picked him up, and he was begrudgingly plowing the fields everywhere.

After observing for a while, Anthony turned to Ange and said, "Sir, we need to find a way to tease them but not irritate them too much – to ensure they’re motivated to stay. If we all hide and don’t come out, those with any sense might retreat after a few days."

Ange looked bewildered and cocked his head, finding it difficult to both tease and not enrage.

"What I mean is, maybe we could have Little Angel masquerade as a Great Angel and take a stroll outside?" Anthony tentatively asked.

Ange rejected the idea without a second thought; if Little Angel went out, wouldn’t he end up having to fetch her back himself?

Sure enough, the eager Little Angel immediately wilted at the prospect.

Anthony spread his hands helplessly toward Little Angel.

The little angel couldn’t go out, so Ange had to do it himself. He suddenly spread his six wings and fluttered out.

After Ange flew out, Negris whispered into Anthony’s ear, "You said you’d invite the little angel to fight, is this the kind of ’invitation’ you meant?"

Anthony spread his hands with an innocent look on his face.

Ange’s appearance caused a commotion, not just among the undead creatures on the opposite side, but also the dragon sorcerers in the sky, the magicians on the Sorcerer Alliance’s ladder, and the likes of Gonia in the forest.

"Six-winged angel, Supreme Holy Spirit, such a ghostly being has come to hold fort, seems like this stronghold is really important to them. Hurry and call for more reinforcements, block off the other side of the mountain too," Gust muttered to himself.

Though he muttered this, Gust made no moves, neither did the few smokes under his command, nor Arambrough and his Black Cavaliers, or even the Dragon Sorcerers flying above, none of them changed their target.

The Supreme Holy Spirit was revered far and wide, and even though they had never really clashed—Arambrough actually had, but he had forgotten—just from the overwhelming presence and the surging holy power, they could sense that this target wasn’t one they could easily take down. They might not be able to return if they rushed in.

Ange hovered in the air and paused for a while, finding that everyone was motionless, he became a bit confused; Anthony hadn’t told him what to do in this situation.

After standing there aimlessly for a while, Ange got bored. It wasn’t appropriate to reach into his space to plant something, as Negris had warned him not to reveal this ability carelessly.

After thinking for a while, Ange flew to the cliff face and punched a hole in it, put a seed in the crumbled rocks, and watered it.

On the nearly vertical cliff face, Ange did just that—punching holes and planting seeds. In full view of everyone, he created rows and rows of planting pits, and everyone was baffled by his action.

"What... What is he doing? Poking holes in the cliff? He’s the Supreme Holy Spirit, not a gopher," said Arambrough from a distance, unable to see clearly and speaking with confusion.

Gust was also perplexed: "Can he even cast spells? There’s a ripple of water elementals; is he watering those pits?"

Not just them, the magicians on the Sorcerer Alliance’s ladder were also stunned. They had instruments and a high vantage point to see clearly: "The... The Supreme Holy Spirit is planting something?"

Only after Ange had punched rows and columns of neat pits into the entire cliff face did others confirm the unbelievable truth: this Six-winged Archangel was really cultivating something.

It took all day long and by evening, Ange reluctantly returned to the forest. He had been enjoying himself and wanted to continue, but since he had filled the entire cliff face, he’d need to move elsewhere to carry on.

After he retreated, Gust and Arambrough approached, and with a sweep of their souls, they immediately confirmed: "He’s really planting something, Hill Climbing Dragon, some kind of berries? Has he gone mad? The Supreme Holy Spirit, not planting Holy Light crops but ordinary berries?"

Arambrough commented, "Maybe the fruit was picked from around here, look at the foot of the mountain."

Following the direction pointed out, indeed, there were vast stretches of berries at the foot of the mountain.

For the next two days, the Supreme Holy Spirit did not show up, which made Gust very anxious. On the morning of the third day, he couldn’t take it anymore and gave Arambrough a kick, "Go on, water those Hill Climbing Dragons on the cliff face, or they’ll all wilt."

"What? Why? We didn’t plant them, he sowed and then ignored them, why should I water them?" Arambrough protested unhappily.

"So you’d rather watch them wilt? When His Majesty comes back, I’ll be sure to inform him," Gust threatened.

"I... Why don’t you water them?" Arambrough’s spirit deflated, yet he still spoke out reluctantly.

"Because I’m older, older, older," Gust said as he flicked Arambrough’s head, making it thud repeatedly.

"Old Immortal," Arambrough grumbled resentfully as he went off to water the fields reluctantly with the Black Cavaliers.

No wonder he was upset; it wasn’t just the berries on the cliff, but also the crops in the fields below that they were nurturing—it was almost like they had become full-time farmers.

And why didn’t Ange come out to water? Because they had already slipped away.

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