[{"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-18":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},2351499,4600,"Chapter 18: Creating a God","the-vegetable-growing-skeleton-s-foreign-land-re-chapter-18",18,"\u003Cp>Purification magic is a simple level-one spell; Ange learned it quickly, and when he saw a skeleton emitting holy light from its hand, Negril felt a wicked satisfaction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some say purification magic is meant to cleanse undead creatures, and that undead cannot learn it; Negril scoffed. Light overcoming darkness is correct, but light overcoming undead is a classic fallacy—it stems mainly from undead aversion to sunlight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But don’t living beings dislike sunlight? Put one out at noon in summer for two hours and see. All it means is that living beings have higher tolerance to sunlight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the histories Negril knew, purification magic restrained undead because it was “holy” light magic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Adding the word “holy” to light magic meant it belonged to the realm of divine arts, carrying a portion of intent within it. Holy light magic didn’t just restrain undead—it also restrained all heretics, including demons and elementals.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As long as this targeted “intent” was not infused, holy light magic became merely simple light magic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After drinking a cup of purified holy water, the girl rapidly shed her negative status and fell into peaceful sleep.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The boy sighed in relief and bowed gratefully to Angr. Angr had worked hard—raining, purifying—he’d seen it all, and now he realized: it wasn’t the fire on the altar that saved his sister, but the skeleton before him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two more soul flames rose from his body, not heading toward the undead holy fire, but directly sinking into Angr’s body.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two soul flames twisted and coalesced within Angr’s soul, forming a strange symbol that floated atop the flame radiating from his soul-heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Angr told Negril about this strange change, he heard the bronze dragon’s jealous voice: “What a piece of dogshit luck—you’ve gained his faith; from now on, he’s your believer, a zealot. Dogshit luck, you don’t even have a godhead, you’re a false god, and you’ve stolen the soul network, Kuba Da!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Kuba Da” in the magical tongue means both insult and kill; when used alone, it functions as a strong emotional particle, indicating Negril was furious and wanted to curse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Negril had once deeply studied the relationship between deities and believers, and his final conclusion: it wasn’t deities who created believers—it was believers who created deities.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just like Negril himself—he was originally just a knowledge-rich bronze dragon. As more and more people worshipped him, over time, he ignited divine fire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But honestly, his title as God of Knowledge was hollow. He ignited divine fire through accumulated time and sheer longevity—not until he was around eight thousand years old did he barely manage it. Ultimately, it was because he had no zealots.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Think about it: how many people who revere knowledge can become fanatical? Scholars are worse than the worst scoundrels—yesterday they swore the earth was flat, today, with sufficient evidence, they immediately swallow every word they said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They worship truth, not the bronze dragon who taught them knowledge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But truth is countless and ever-changing: water flowing downhill is truth—but in some abyssal realm, water flows upward, because that abyss contains vast amounts of liquid mercury; water, being lighter, floats atop it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Humans have short lifespans—average forty to fifty years—yet they’ve created countless deities. Why? Because they produce vast numbers of zealots.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If believers create deities, then zealots are the key to godmaking, for they spread your deeds, infecting others to worship you. Thus, zealots often become the crucial spark that ignites divine fire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How could the bronze dragon not be jealous? He lived eight thousand years and never met a single zealot, and his believers were all trash, so his divine authority remained weak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Weak divine authority was bad enough, but worse—he had a godhead. And so, the Lich King took notice, sealing him inside the Book of Bronze. And his trash believers? Never once tried to free him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Negril wallowed in self-pity, but Angr had already donned a straw hat and transformed into human form—only then could he speak: “What happened? Did they chase you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing Angr’s hat cover and instantly transform him into a human, the boy’s eyes widened—wasn’t this a miracle? If washing hands in boiling oil was a miracle, then turning into a human was a miracle of miracles; in an instant, the boy’s faith strengthened further.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Plague, lockdown, leave home, kill, sister sick, no save, die, gamble.” The boy’s speech was worse than Angr’s—he spat out single words.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this matched Angr’s own speech pattern; he understood at once: “Plague? Dysentery? Like this?” He pointed at the girl.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The lockdown came suddenly; Angr had only noticed believers stopped coming overnight, unaware of what had happened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes, many dead, quarantine, skeletons deliver food, but no healing,” the boy said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It wasn’t that no healing was done—it was that healers were too few. Poor folk like them received no treatment; illness was endured until either survived or died at home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Many died?” Angr thought, then asked: “Can skeletons leave?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Many. Skeletons can. No infection,” the boy replied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Angr took out a plate, filled it with clean water, cast several purification spells, then picked up the plate and prepared to leave the shrine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Where are you going?” Negril couldn’t help asking.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“To the minotaurs,” Angr replied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, that family’s faith is quite devout—let’s go see. But shouldn’t you ask your zealot his name?” Negril was exasperated with Angr—this was a zealot, and you don’t even ask his name? How will you command him later?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Angr asked the boy his name; the boy replied excitedly: “Ock.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Arriving at the minotaur’s home with the purified water, the entire family lay in bed, vomiting and diarrhea-ridden, dehydrated, barely alive. Poor minotaurs who ate moss had no chance of avoiding infection.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After drinking the purified water, the resilient minotaur family instantly revived. They clung to Angr and bowed repeatedly—this was the only way they knew to thank him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soul flames surged from them and flowed directly into Angr’s body, no longer needing the undead holy fire as intermediary.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This change clearly related to the symbol on the soul flame, but Angr’s attention was already drawn elsewhere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the wall hung an animal skull wearing an eye patch; from its two sharp horns—similar to the minotaurs’ but thicker by a full circle—it was clearly the ancestor of Auntie Minotaur’s family.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes, this is my great-grandfather, Lacha Ironhoof.” What a plain, unadorned name.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What drew Angr’s attention wasn’t the skull itself, but the soul flame within—it had already gestated a soul, becoming a skeleton, but it had been hung on the wall, with no nearby bones to assemble, so it remained suspended like that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Has a soul? No wonder its eye sockets burned. So Grandma put the eye patch on. What now? This is our ancestor’s skull—hanging it like this is disrespectful. Let’s take it to the shrine. The undead shrine will handle the soul better.” After discussion, the family decided to give the skull to Angr to take to the shrine, trusting the undead shrine would properly care for the soul within.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thus, Angr returned to the shrine with a minotaur skull he hadn’t asked for, only to find Feilin waiting impatiently, pacing frantically.\u003C\u002Fp>",1190,"2026-06-21T03:18:43.177Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","8e382270e83cd007d07dd56ec0048cbe924569cb4cfe1b053be3626276fc2e2f","the-vegetable-growing-skeleton-s-foreign-land-re-chapter-19","the-vegetable-growing-skeleton-s-foreign-land-re-chapter-17",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-vegetable-growing-skeleton-s-foreign-land-re-cover.jpg"]