[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-vegetable-growing-skeleton-s-foreign-land-re":3,"chapter-the-vegetable-growing-skeleton-s-foreign-land-re-the-vegetable-growing-skeleton-s-foreign-land-re-chapter-124":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Vegetable-Growing Skeleton's Foreign Land Reclamation",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2351605,4600,"Chapter 124","the-vegetable-growing-skeleton-s-foreign-land-re-chapter-124",124,"\u003Cp>Alas, it sounded wonderful in theory—the desert folk could muster about five thousand camel cavalry, roughly equal to the desert bandits’ numbers—but gathering these scattered, untrained, and widely dispersed desert folk was no easy task…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nai Aili watched the battlefield from afar, anxiously glancing left and right, then finally shouted at Shafeya: “Fifteen minutes! Where are my knights?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shafeya, drenched in dragon saliva and nearly deafened, dared not wipe her face, only hunched her neck and replied: “Almost there, almost there! Everyone’s coming, it’s already fast, Boss. Last time I had them hunt desert bandits, it took seven or eight hours to gather a thousand men.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Seven or eight hours? Are they sloths? In seven or eight hours, sloths could’ve crawled there.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No way, no way! That time wasn’t urgent. This time it’s you, Boss, personally calling—half an hour, guaranteed!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Half an hour? By the time they arrive, the battle will already be over.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If she’d been told half an hour outright, Nai Aili would’ve exploded—but with the earlier seven or eight hours as context, she suddenly felt half an hour wasn’t entirely unreasonable. Still, she was frantic, because if they came any later, the enemies might all be dead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wait—do we count half an hour from when I called, or from now?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shafeya pretended not to hear, scrubbing dragon saliva off her body while inching away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nai Aili couldn’t help but be anxious—Ang’s team was small, but their combat power was immense, especially Ang’s, which was too bizarre.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nageleisi shouted as thousands of desert bandits surged forward: “Don’t panic! Hold formation! Ang, have the heavy shield infantry protect you, then dig a trench in front, and build a dirt wall along our side of the trench!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Drawing on prior experience building houses, Ang quickly erected a thirty-meter-long dirt wall, with a trench of equal length sunk just beyond it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, anyone falling into the two-meter-deep trench would face a three-meter vertical drop to climb the slanted, foothold-less dirt wall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This trench and wall took Ang over ten minutes to complete. By the time he finished, the first wave of bandits had reached the nearest dune and were surging down like a tidal wave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But seeing the trench and wall, everyone instinctively slowed, drawing bows and loosing arrows.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The heavy shield infantry tilted their shields slightly backward, all of them lying flat behind them. A rain of arrows clattered against the shields.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These heavy shields were nearly solid steel plates taller than a man, an inch thick—spear thrusts couldn’t pierce them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shield bearers carried no weapons, because they had no free hands. Their armor was thin too—any attack that bypassed the shield would pierce them regardless of armor thickness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Indeed, some bandits drew spears, spurred their horses, twisted their waists mid-saddle, and hurled specially forged spears spinning through the air—*clang!*—they struck the heavy shield.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shield dented slightly, but the spear shattered into fragments.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Faced with such iron pots, the bandits immediately abandoned ranged attacks—unless they could haul siege crossbows or magic cannons, they stood no chance against such shields.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if they had such weapons, why would they even be desert bandits?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shouting orders, the bandits dismounted and charged forward chaotically.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The trench and wall unnerved untrained horses, making them hesitate at the front—better to abandon mounts and fight on foot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ang leaned out and cast spells, launching compressed explosive fireballs—*bloop, bloop, bloop*—each one striking the nearest bandits.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These bandits were nowhere near as strong as Mayor’s vanguard; one or two fireballs could blast each one over. And the explosion’s shockwave knocked them backward, slamming them into those behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>*Boom, boom, boom*—three per second—clearing the front line completely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bandits lay scattered: stunned, dead, or charred into blackened corpses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An old bandit in the rear shouted: “Dragon crossbow! Bring up the winged knight’s dragon crossbow—and scaled-piercing arrows!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three burly bandits grunted as they hauled a dragon crossbow up, set it on the ground, and began stringing it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ang spotted the crossbow instantly, locking his gaze on it, firing explosive fireballs in rapid succession.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the crossbow lay beyond the range of his fireball spell—the fireballs dissipated before reaching it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>*Twang!* A bowstring snapped. The scaled-piercing arrow shot in a straight line, striking the heavy shield—*ding!*—it pierced clean through, embedding itself in the shield bearer’s body, emerging from his back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes! Blessings of the Wind God! Hit!” The old bandit clapped excitedly:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s a heavy shield infantryman—expensive! I heard it costs silver coins equal to his weight to train one. Besides cultivating aura, he must train with constant heavy loads, consuming massive nutrition. He must keep pace with infantry marches to qualify. One arrow kills one—heavy shield infantryman? We’ve hit the jackpot.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Equal weight in silver coins?” The three desert men operating the crossbow stared, eyes gleaming. With that much money, they’d never be bandits—they’d go home, farm, buy a small estate, marry, and raise a dozen children. Just thinking of it was paradise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now they’d just killed a heavy shield infantryman worth a wife, kids, and a small estate? Pure bliss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uh… look!” One bandit suddenly looked like he’d seen a ghost, gesturing frantically.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A slender woman in black gauze ran behind the wounded shield bearer, extended two pale, delicate hands, gripped the arrow protruding from his body, and yanked hard—easily pulling it free.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don’t underestimate the strength needed to pull an arrow—muscles contract instinctively around embedded shafts, and air pressure seals the wound. Weak hands can’t pull them out. Many piercing weapons have blood grooves precisely to ease extraction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This slender woman pulled it out effortlessly—her strength rivaled that of a strong man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But that wasn’t all—after pulling the arrow, she summoned holy light and pressed it to the shield bearer’s wound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone who saw the holy light gasped in unison; some even froze mid-step.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Are these people from the Church of Light? That’s trouble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some hesitated, others didn’t—and some were furious. One swordsman grabbed a one-handed shield and shouted: “Church of Light, I #$%&!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Igniting aura, he charged through Ang’s fireballs to the trench’s edge, leaping toward the dirt wall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But as he leapt, a pale hand seized his ankle and dragged him into the trench. Some of the dead bandits nearby had risen—eyes rolled back, wounds gaping, clawing hands reaching for him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Undead?!” He barely screamed before a corpse bit his neck, severing his carotid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The swordsman bled out quickly. Soon after, his corpse lurched upright, shield in hand, sword raised, swinging at a bandit who’d reached the trench.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bandits screamed: “Aaaah! Undead!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Filin and Eske hid behind the heavy shield infantry, calmly chanting spells, even having time to joke: “This world’s sun is brutal—massively weakens necromancy.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yeah, it’s a huge reduction. Next time we fight, we should bring an umbrella.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No—wait till night. Night’s when necromancers truly reign.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One corpse after another rose—Eske could control eight at once; Filin was stronger, managing twenty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, given enough time to first revive corpses into undead, he could command thousands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though the number summoned was small, corpses were plentiful—destroy one, summon another. As long as their mana held, the number of corpses wouldn’t dwindle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The trench and wall now had a psychological barrier too—many bandits preferred retreating rather than charging the line formed by their freshly dead comrades.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old bandit shouted from behind: “Flank them! Flank them! Attack their sides!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The trench and wall existed only on the front; both flanks were lined with jujube groves. Nageleisi deliberately chose this position to minimize the area needing defense—after all, their numbers were too few to cover everything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bandits, now alerted, surged into the jujube groves on both sides.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But moments later, they screamed in terror—twenty giants, nearly three meters tall, wielding massive clubs, emerged from the trees, grinning as they smashed down like groundhogs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All Purple Bone Titans had their weapons replaced with giant wooden clubs, their ends wrapped in thorny vines to form wooden spiked maces. Shafeya, unusually generous, offered them the only freely available items she had: jujube wood clubs and thorn vines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though made of wood, the clubs were so thick and heavy that anyone struck by them couldn’t survive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bandits who’d rushed into the grove retreated faster than they’d entered, leaving over a hundred mangled corpses behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Purple Bone Titans, flushed with bloodlust, charged out of the grove to pursue—only to be shouted down by Nageleisi: “No pursuit! Anyone who chases, goes back to farming. Won’t be called again for battle.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ahh! Oh…” Even the Purple Bone Titans hung their heads, slinking back into the grove.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Far away, the old bandit still directed the dragon crossbow—each scaled-piercing arrow loaded, aimed, and fired.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Heavy shield infantrymen kept getting struck, pierced.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lisa ran over, pulled out the arrows, healed them—the whole process growing smoother.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old bandit watched, heart pounding—he’d noticed several oddities: the woman in black gauze’s holy light seemed endless, and the heavy shield infantrymen, once struck, pulled out arrows, and healed, made no sound, didn’t even tremble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Coupled with the risen corpses, he formed a bold theory: “Those heavy shield infantrymen… might not be human.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But how could undead be allied with the Church of Light?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he pondered, a voice suddenly spoke beside him: “Hey, what’s this weapon called?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old bandit turned—speaking was a young swordsman he didn’t recognize, dressed oddly, chewing on something like dried beetroot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bandits were a hastily assembled mob; unfamiliarity was normal. The old bandit replied casually: “It’s a dragon crossbow—issued by the Winged Knights.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Dragon crossbow? A weapon specifically for dragons?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course. Every Winged Knight carries one. With scaled-piercing arrows, they can pierce dragon scales… Wait—you’re not a bandit. Why’s your scarf on your head?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now he understood why the young swordsman’s attire seemed odd—he’d worn his wind-and-sand scarf as a headband.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Scarves are breathable and thin—worn around the neck, pulled up to cover nose and mouth against sandstorms. Headbands are thick, for sun protection. Genuine bandits never wear them backwards—unless they’re fake.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The young swordsman grinned, tossed the last chunk of beetroot into his mouth, ignited his aura, clasped his hands in midair—and solid aura coalesced into a blade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old bandit gasped: “High-rank Sword Saint?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A flash of swordlight—four heads flew skyward. Lu Se’s aura blade cleaved the dragon crossbow, shattering it into pieces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All bandits nearby stared, dumbfounded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lu Se had approached by a long detour; returning, he Landeraolu —picked up a broken sword on the ground and hacked his way back, clang clang clang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bandits finally broke, screaming as they fled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The first wave, totaling fifteen hundred, fled after leaving five or six hundred corpses behind—even abandoning their horses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Without unified command, the first wave consisted mostly of those eager to be first—never expecting to hit such a hard target. Those who fled died fastest. Their retreat left the following bandits uncertain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They’d planned to rush the oasis while the desert folk were unprepared, slaughter every man, woman, and child, lure out Huang Tong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then let the Winged Knights ambush and kill the dragon—the knights take the corpse, and the bandits split ten million magic crystals and all the oasis’s treasure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Instead, they hadn’t even entered the oasis and were already bloodied, with five or six hundred dead—a ten percent loss rate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The following bandits hesitated—unsure whether to press on or wait for the Winged Knights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ang lost his target and stopped. He tilted his head, puzzled, staring straight ahead—especially at the trench. The corpses there felt… strange.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Death Deqixi  spread. He sensed an invisible connection between those corpses summoned by Filin and Eske—and if he pulled those invisible threads, the corpses would rise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, the death Qixi  radiating from the corpses made Ang feel he could pull them up too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ang instinctively reached out and pulled—the death Qixi  tugged like a rope, yanking his body forward. He had to dig his heels in to stop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pulled again—slid forward again. He dug his heels again. Pull, slide, dig—Ang seemed to be walking in place.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone noticed Ang’s odd behavior. Nageleisi asked, puzzled: “Ang, what are you doing? Dancing?”\u003C\u002Fp>",2023,"2026-06-21T03:18:43.177Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","a4f0f17a3f471d31a48b4d0dfa4149babaaa1cbeb4b0f7d409006b362fa23ce2","the-vegetable-growing-skeleton-s-foreign-land-re-chapter-125","the-vegetable-growing-skeleton-s-foreign-land-re-chapter-123",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-vegetable-growing-skeleton-s-foreign-land-re-cover.jpg"]