Chapter 186: Fallen in a Realm Where Strong Winds Blow

Not that—it grew from the original plant. After sleeping for half a year, Ang woke up to find the elf beans had sprouted very little, but their growth patterns were clearly recorded, so he initiated life acceleration, forcibly pushing the elf beans to their first harvest cycle.

Now he had five hundred elf beans, but after producing them, the main plant withered; though not quite dead, it was barely clinging to life, and until the cause was understood, he couldn't accelerate it to a second harvest cycle.

"Huh? All that effort, and you only got five hundred elf beans? And you're feeding them to a cat?" Negril's heart shattered.

Cat? Ang tilted his head. The little angel tilted his head. The little zombie tilted his head. The little sapling tilted its head too.

"What else? Isn't that a cat? And a greedy one at that—even if it's a demon god, it's still a greedy demon god cat." Negril grumbled, pointing at the furry little paw.

The little paw patted around for a while, found nothing, grew anxious, flipped its palm upward, and its short toes kept curling and extending.

"Don't feed them to the cat anymore—it's a waste. Keep them as seeds. Even if it only yields five hundred beans, if the quantity increases, maybe you'll figure out how to boost harvests?" Negril said.

Ang tilted his head, puzzled: "The elves say beans can't be planted—only seeds can."

Negril snorted: "Don't listen to them—they sell boiled beans, obviously they won't grow. Seeds are just unboiled beans. Where else would seeds come from if not from the elf bean plant? It's not your No. Demon Rice, needing the sapling's blessing to grow."

"Oh." Ang understood, turned back to the demon god's paw, and pointed: "Look."

On the demon god's paw lay two small objects: one like a seed, one like a bean.

While talking to Ang, the paw had failed to grasp any beans, so it retracted, then reemerged with these two items.

"Uh… what does this mean? Exchange? Hey, can you hear me? Is this an exchange?" Negril froze, staring at the paw. The paw gave no response.

Ang took the items from the paw, placed an elf bean on it. The paw squeezed, then snapped back with a whoosh.

Negril picked them up: one was indeed a seed, the other looked exactly like a bean, even emitting a bean-like aroma.

Negril felt cheated: the thing had traded an unknown object and a regular bean for one elf bean?

"How did you even find this thing?" Negril asked.

Ang pointed to the sculpture's hands. It was a grotesque statue, crudely made and highly abstract—barely recognizable as a person with mouth wide open, palms up, holding the mouth.

Ang placed an elf bean on the sculpture's upturned palms. Whoosh—the furry paw shot out instantly, pressed against the bean, and snatched it away.

It reemerged, palm open—but the elf bean was gone.

Negril picked up a small stone and placed it on the paw.

The paw squeezed it, then immediately spat it back, hitting Negril in the face.

"Oh? You're picky?" Negril tried a gold coin—rejected. Then a magic crystal—rejected. Finally, plucked a scale from his own body—still rejected.

The little angel shifted, nudging Negril aside, then plucked a feather from his own wing.

The paw instantly grabbed it, whoosh—snatched it away.

The little angel tilted his head up at Negril, smug and proud.

Negril was furious: he'd plucked his scale just to test—didn't care if it was taken—but this blatant favoritism? His dragon scales were inferior to an angel's feather?

"Come out! Come out and explain yourself!" Negril slammed his claw onto the sculpture's palm. Whoosh—the paw shot out like lightning, clamping onto his claw.

Negril yanked back instantly, terrified of being pulled in, yet secretly pleased—his claw was still worthy of notice.

The furry paw fumbled a few times, found nothing, retracted, then reemerged with two more beans.

"One angel feather for two beans? You're a crook! Do you know how valuable an angel feather is?!" Negril yelled.

Then he paused—suddenly saw a profit scheme: "Wait… right! Pluck all your feathers, sell them, let Ang heal you—endless supply! Oh, don't hit my face, don't peel my scales…"

The little angel didn't understand Negril's plan, but "pluck all your feathers" he understood—he let out a shriek and lunged with the little zombie, pouncing on Negril and beating him senseless.

Covered in dust and bruises, Negril turned—three little ones were back at the sculpture, luring the cat with elf beans.

"Play a bit, but don't waste all the elf beans. And what do we do with these?" Negril sighed, holding the demon god's trade: one seed and three beans.

"Huh? New beans? Never seen these. Taste good?" Lu Se's voice came from behind. A hand reached out, plucking one bean from Negril's palm.

Before Negril could stop him, Lu Se tossed it into his mouth, chewed twice, and immediately grimaced: "So bitter."

Too late—he'd chewed it. Couldn't spit it out. Swallowed it, then complained: "Lord Negril, where'd you pick up these rotten beans? So disgusting."

Negril didn't know what to say. Carefully asked: "Besides bitter, any other sensation?"

"Other sensation? Bitter. Bitter to death." Lu Se groaned.

"Anything else?" Negril asked.

Lu Se shook his head: "No."

"Here, wipe your nose—you're bleeding." Negril pointed. A thin trickle of blood dripped slowly from Lu Se's right nostril.

Lu Se wiped it, saw the blood, shrugged: "Bleeding? Must've eaten too well—got overheated."

"I think you're not overheated—you're weak," Negril retorted.

Unexpectedly, the casual jab made Lu Se blush. He scratched his head: "Can't help it—the desert girls are too enthusiastic."

Far away, Lei Ting leisurely chewed beetroot. Suddenly, his ears twitched. Still holding the beet in his mouth, he crept silently over.

Negril finally realized: "Damn it, Lu Se, you're dating someone?"

A horse head popped up: "Oh, so you're dating? No wonder we haven't seen you. We're fighting our asses off up front, and you're back here dating? How can you betray us?"

"No no, absolutely not! Don't spread rumors! You just never called me! I'm always ready to serve my lord—but you all keep running off without me! Hey, it's getting hot—I'll go take a bath." Lu Se changed the subject and dashed toward the river.

Not just hot—burning. After swimming for half an hour, the heat didn't drop. He realized something was wrong, staggered to Ang: "Lord, something's wrong—my heartbeat's too fast."

Ang cast two Cleansing Spells on Lu Se—no effect. Instead, more blood flowed from his nose. Ang tried casting one on his face to stop it, but Negril stopped him.

"Nosebleeds might mean high intracranial pressure—don't stop the bleeding yet. Observe. Your skin's hot, heartbeat's rapid—could you be poisoned? Any mental symptoms?" Negril asked.

"I feel mentally hypercharged." Lu Se said: "Poisoned? I didn't eat anything strange today—except that bean. Lord Negril, what kind of bean was that?"

Negril spread his hands: "I don't know. The demon god gave it to us."

"Oh, Lord! You're trying to kill me! You give me demon god stuff to eat?!" Lu Se complained.

"Did I give it to you? You snatched it! You snatched it! You snatched it!!!" Negril roared. If he had spit, Lu Se would've been washed in it.

He was burning hot, but not dying—so Negril forbade Ang from healing him, only gave him a tray of ice.

Lu Se plunged in, cooled slightly, then couldn't control himself—he summoned his aura and flailed wildly with a drunken boxing style, steam rising from his body.

After several cycles, he yelled he was hungry. Ang tossed him two elf beans.

One elf bean down—Lu Se instantly felt full of power, flailed again with drunken boxing. He repeated this several times, then ate the second bean.

A normal person would be satisfied with one elf bean for a whole day. Even as a high-level sword saint, Lu Se shouldn't burn through one in half an hour—he was clearly in an extreme energy drain state.

Quickly ordered a dish of World Tree shoots and a cup of Sacred Essence liquid to drink.

Eating these high-energy foods, Lu Se became like a rooster on adrenaline, kept going until evening, then summoned an aura blade with bare hands and collapsed: "I've broken through to Gao Jie."

Watching Lu Se sprawled on the ground, peacefully asleep and drooling, Ang checked him—no irreversible damage. Negril's gaze at the one seed and two beans changed completely.

No wonder it was demon god-made—this effect was insane! It had elevated a low-level sword saint directly to Gao Jie?

The leap from low-level to Gao Jie sword saint was a wall—many never crossed it in their lives.

But Lu Se probably never had that wall—he'd already been on the verge of breaking through while chewing beetroot. That's likely why it was so smooth.

Still, the elf beans, World Tree shoots, and Sacred Essence liquid helped immensely—otherwise, the energy drain might've killed him mid-breakthrough.

But regardless, elevating a low-level sword saint on the spot—these beans were insane. No wonder they were demon god-made. Negril no longer thought the demon god stingy—five elf beans for one of these upgrade beans? A massive profit.

Wait—there were two upgrade beans, traded for one angel feather. Wow—how many upgrade beans could that angel's wings trade for?

He glanced over casually—the little angel sensed it instantly, his face scrunched up, glaring fiercely.

Negril smiled awkwardly, abandoning the ridiculous idea.

"Ang, try to get as many of these upgrade beans as possible. That unknown seed—try planting it. Probably something valuable." Negril leaned close to Ang.

"Oh." Ang picked up the seed, shoved it into the Anxi Palace farm, planted it randomly, then tossed one upgrade bean in too.

"Ah, right! If upgrade beans are beans, they can be seeds too. Plant them—then we won't need to trade with the demon god." Negril said.

…

The demon god seemed glued to Ang. Every afternoon, its paw poked out from the sculpture, pawing around—when it found nothing, the whole paw drooped limply, reluctant to retract.

Sometimes Ang happened to be near the sculpture—he'd give it an elf bean. The paw instantly stiffened with excitement, retracted, then shot out again, palm wide open.

Roughly five elf beans, it returned one upgrade bean. Even if it didn't get five one day, the next day's count included yesterday's—fair, honest, no cheating. No wonder the three little ones got along with it—such an equal exchange mindset.

As for the unknown seed, the demon god never gave another. Beans were always given one at a time. Negril suspected the seed wasn't intentionally given—it was just accidentally dragged out with the beans.

From afar, the sound of flapping wings came. A short, chubby sub-dragon landed distantly. A figure leapt off and flew toward Ang—then landed halfway and walked over.

Seeing the sub-dragon, Lei Ting perked up instantly, scampered over, greeted: "Hey, isn't that Fat Dragon? Long time no see! How've you been? Still being ridden?"

At the sound, the sub-dragon didn't even turn—just shut its eyes, hugged its arms over its head, pretending not to see or hear.

Lei Ting was baffled—no reaction meant his venomous tongue and face-taunting were useless. He couldn't just pry open its eyes.

He mocked a few more times. The sub-dragon remained silent. Lei Ting sighed and turned away. Oh god, this fat bastard found a counter to him—now it wasn't fun anymore.

Xia Mala approached Ang, bowing from afar: "Hello, Lord Ang. Hello, Lord Negril."

Ang nodded. Negril curiously asked: "What's up with that sub-dragon? Did you tame it? How?"

"Beat it once, and it's tamed. Now it's my pet. Lord Ang, my pet's skin itches terribly, scales falling off. It says every ten days, the Silver Knights feed it medicine to ease the symptoms. I've guessed what it is—but I don't want to go to the Church. My inner voice tells me you can cure this disease."

Negril stared at the sub-dragon in shock: "No way—the Church used the Corrosion Scar on a sub-dragon?"

"Oh." Hearing "Corrosion Scar," Ang knew how to treat it. He zoomed around the sub-dragon dozens of times, casting Cleansing Spells—over a thousand of them—until the sub-dragon was healed.

It sounded simple—but this Level 2 magic with Level 4 effect? Only Ang could cast a thousand without pausing.

It was a silent intimidation. After casting a thousand Cleansing Spells and flying back as if nothing happened, Xia Mala's tone grew more respectful: "My inner voice also told me—the thing that stole my divine power—is now fallen into a realm where strong winds blow."

"A realm with strong winds? The Wind Elemental Plane?" Negril asked.

"No. There, the wind only blows at night." Xia Mala said.

"Pfft… I know where it is."

PS: I got cocky, thought I could do three chapters again,