Chapter 226: The Seedling Technique Is Outdated

Encountering a stupid skeleton, Ang was utterly exasperated; he quietly crept along the wall, preparing to leave Shengbicheng and wait for the Undead Flood to recede—or for Eternal Night to end—before finding another teleportation array to return to the Main Plane; the Fallen Lands surely had other arrays capable of returning there.

If all else failed, he'd wait for Big Cat to recover and use the spatial passage to go back.

Unexpectedly, he ran straight into a three-meter-tall giant golden skeleton, which possessed a soul heart several times stronger than an ordinary golden skeleton, paired with a robust body—its combat power was undoubtedly formidable.

Unfortunately, its mind was a bit addled; after it bared its fangs and roared at Ang, Ang thought it was speaking "Ao Ao language," so he roared back.

He hadn't realized it was just roaring to scare (and charm) people—it had no actual meaning.

After a few rounds of mutual misunderstanding, Ang gave up, shoved it aside, and headed east.

Now that the Undead Flood had surged into the western side of the Central Mountains, undead creatures on the east had grown fewer; Ang planned to stay at Qiaotoubao Village for a while.

Unexpectedly, the stupid skeleton followed him, rumbling out: "Hello, I'm Da Gu, what's your name…"

"I've never seen you before—are you newly awakened?"

"Where are you going? Harvey told us to go west…"

"Fine, if you won't go, then don't—Harvey isn't even our king anyway…"

"Why is your left arm bone purple, like Harvey's? Are you one of Harvey's subjects?"

"…"

Ang didn't mind, but Nageles, projecting onto him, couldn't take it anymore and spoke up: "Don't follow me!"

Da Gu asked: "Who are you? Why are you on him?"

"Huh? You can sense me?" Nageles was astonished. It had projected onto Ang countless times—this giant golden skeleton was the first to notice it.

Da Gu nodded: "Harvey has one too, but it doesn't talk."

Nageles asked: "You mean Harvey has another consciousness like me? Is Harvey that purple-gold skeleton?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you following us?" Nageles asked.

"You yelled at me," Da Gu said.

"When did we ever yell at you?!" Nageles cried out in protest—what nonsense, when had Ang ever yelled at it?

"Ao ao!" Da Gu flailed its limbs dramatically.

"Wasn't it because you roared at us that we roared back?" Nageles was furious—this was outright deception.

"I was scaring you," Da Gu said cheerfully.

"Yes, you scared us, so we yelled at you," Nageles said.

"You yelled at me," Da Gu said.

Nageles realized it had been trapped by this stupid skeleton: it scared them, they yelled at it, so it followed them because they yelled at it… why had it gotten tangled in this logic… who was the real fool?

Whatever, let it follow—it was beyond Nageles's patience.

Ang turned and kept walking; Da Gu hurried after him: "Hello, I'm Da Gu, what are your names…"

To prevent this stupid skeleton from repeating the same questions endlessly, Nageles sighed and replied: "I'm Nage, this is Ang."

"Oh, hello, I'm Da Gu," Da Gu replied.

"We know, we know, you've said it dozens of times already—Da Gu, why are you following us?" Nageles asked; it was complaining about repetition, yet it had repeated the same question itself.

But Da Gu didn't give a repetitive answer; instead, it beamed happily: "You don't scare me."

"??" What kind of answer was that? Not being scared meant following them? Why didn't it just follow the purple-gold skeleton then?

Normal people were simply incapable of understanding the wounded psyche of a skeleton that had been hurt by fragile skeletons.

But with this thing trailing them, Ang couldn't return to Qiaotoubao Village; instead, he climbed uphill toward the cave they'd visited halfway up the mountain.

As they neared the cave, Ang heard an unusual sound.

"Rats?" Was it rats digging up his seeds again?

He rushed forward, gathering his power, ready to unleash a soul storm—but inside the cave, he saw a large group of elderly, women, and children.

The elderly, women, and children were all weak, resting against the cave walls, leaving the central area—where crops had been planted—untrodden; the dim light meant the planted crops hadn't sprouted at all.

Seeing a golden skeleton storm in, everyone screamed, crying and scrambling backward into the deepest recesses of the cave.

A wraith floated over, blocking Ang's path, shouting sharply: "Don't harm humans—get out!"

Ang tilted his head—this wraith he recognized; wasn't this Ferick? How had he come back? And why had he brought so many helpless humans?

But Ferick didn't seem to recognize Ang—this was normal, since Ang had removed his hat.

As a higher undead being, Ferick still held a psychological advantage over a golden skeleton; he hoped his shout would make it retreat peacefully—otherwise, trouble would come.

If a golden skeleton went berserk, a mere accountant wraith like him had no power to stop it; everyone here would die.

No sooner had Ferick finished speaking than another rumbling voice came from outside: "Don't climb so fast—wait for me!" Then a three-meter-tall giant golden skeleton clawed at the cave ceiling and crawled in.

Its arrival terrified the humans even more; screams and wails echoed and bounced off the cave walls, then surged toward the entrance.

Da Gu was stunned by the screams, staring blankly at the humans inside; after several seconds, it reacted: "Ah! So many people!" Then it turned and ran away.

"…"

"…"

Nageles sighed: "Ferick, it's us."

Hearing the voice, Ferick immediately recognized it: "Lord Nage? How did you become a skeleton?"

Nageles was too tired to explain; instead of answering, it asked: "Forget me—what's going on? Why so many humans? And why did you bring them here?"

"Oh oh oh, my lord, these are the families and friends of my clients on the other side of the mountain. Shengbicheng fell, everyone was terrified, didn't know what to do; even though undead everywhere announced the Undead Army wouldn't kill humans, they were still afraid, so they asked me to bring their families here."

"We traveled the mountain path, exhausted, so I brought everyone here to rest. My lord, rest assured—I warned them a thousand times not to step on your land," Ferick swore earnestly.

Nageles scanned them mentally; the humans' condition was poor—everyone had cracked lips, dull eyes, and weak breaths.

"What's wrong? No water?" Nageles asked.

Ferick replied: "Yes, we left in a hurry, brought little water, drank it all on the way; there's no source on the mountain. Maybe there's water in some rock crevices, but I don't drink, so I didn't pay attention—now I can't find any, we'll just have to hold out until we get down the mountain."

Nageles looked at them, concerned: "Can they even hold out until the bottom? Descending is far harder than climbing."

"Sigh… we'll try," Ferick sighed helplessly; so many elderly and weak—he, a wraith, couldn't possibly care for them all.

As they talked, the humans inside, having been frightened, gradually calmed down—they'd only been startled.

Those willing to flee with a wraith weren't especially afraid of undead; seeing Ang had no intention of tearing them apart, they slowly quieted.

One boy, seven or eight years old, unable to bear his thirst any longer, suddenly ran over and held up a soul crystal to Ang: "Can I buy water from you?"

Ferick was astonished: "S-S-Small Brandu, how do you have a soul crystal?"

"Pfft, what's your name? Are you from the Brandu family?" Nageles snorted—could this be a coincidence? Was there really a Brandu Village here?

Upon closer look, indeed there were several familiar faces—clearly seen before, though names were unknown.

Small Brandu replied: "My grandfather gave it to me."

"Your grandfather—could it be him?" Nageles said; Ang reached out and pulled out Brandu, Small Brandu, and Small Small Brandu one by one—good heavens, these people named their children too casually.

Small Brandu popped out and screamed: "Snot-nose, how are you here?"

Small Small Brandu shrieked in delight: "Dad!? Dad? How did you just appear?"

Small Brandu also spotted many familiar villagers among the refugees, ran over joyfully yet anxiously.

All were known faces, and they'd paid (with soul crystals); Ang had no choice but to pull a bucket from his space and cast a spell, filling it like watering a garden.

Afraid of dysentery, Ang cast a purification spell, turning the water in the bucket into holy water.

The sound of Ang's spell-watering was like beautiful music to the parched refugees; everyone turned toward him simultaneously.

When the bucket was full and Ang cast holy light, everyone fell to their knees in unison, murmuring: "This… is this a holy skeleton? Oh gods, water appeared from nowhere—is this a miracle?"

People starving for food were especially devout in faith; those dying of thirst were no different; Ang felt a wave of pure soul flame surge toward him—all directed at him, not toward the Light.

Ang tilted his head in confusion—why this change? Was it because of the name "holy skeleton"?

On matters of faith, even Nageles didn't understand; Ang certainly didn't—he shoved the question aside and stopped thinking about it.

Beside him, Brandu watched everyone bowing, heard the cries of "holy skeleton," his expression deeply complex.

Having entered the Palace of Rest, he knew exactly what this skeleton was—what nonsense "holy skeleton," this was the biggest boss of the Undead Empire.

But as a shrewd man, he also realized that no matter what Ang was, he could do nothing.

Expose him? In this situation, even if he shouted loudly that this was the Undead Empire's top boss, would anyone believe him?

Recalling the miracles Ang had displayed while harvesting crops in the village, ordinary people—even those who'd entered the Palace of Rest—might not realize Ang's true identity, like his two stupid sons and nephew.

Others might not believe him, but his own fate was sealed—he'd die cleanly, not even his soul remaining; Ang had let him in and out, so he clearly had ways to silence him forever.

After much thought, only one path remained.

Brandu drew his longsword, planted it in the ground, knelt on one knee, and said solemnly: "Lord Ang, Brandu pledges loyalty to you."

No flowery words about light or holiness—just a simple oath—but as his soul flame merged into Ang's body, a new symbol formed in his soul, establishing a spiritual bond between them.

Nageles couldn't sense this spiritual link, but it approved of Brandu's action, praising: "You did right—if not, next time you won't come out."

…

Main Plane, Dropped Dragon Lake, Kaelandael pulled up her pant legs, dusty and grimy, crouched on the field ridge, on the verge of tears—where was the elegance of the Elven High Priestess?

Hoofsteps clattered; the unicorn carried Gellard down, astonished: "Lan Dai, what's wrong?"

Kaelandael turned, face tear-streaked: "Your Majesty, please bring Ang and the others back—I—I killed their rice."

"What?! Killed it?!" Gellard stared wide-eyed; even Lightning was stunned, eyes bulging as if hearing something impossible.

Kaelandael, Elven High Druid, caretaker of the World Tree.

If there were rankings among druids, Kaelandael was unquestionably among the top two; very little in the world was beyond her ability to grow—how could she possibly kill rice?

Kaelandael's face was downcast; her confidence had been severely shaken. Last time, she couldn't grow the World Tree sapling—but that was the World Tree; failing to grow it was normal, succeeding would've been strange. Maybe Ang just got lucky with the right environment—that was fortune, not skill.

But this time, she faced saltwater magic rice—yes, it was saltwater rice, but still rice.

Ear emergence, grain filling, pollination—all within Kaelandael's control; the final yield was twenty percent higher than what Ang had achieved.

When she took over, half the growth period had already passed, yet she still increased yield by twenty percent; if she had managed the entire growth cycle, wouldn't a forty to fifty percent increase have been effortless?

Full of confidence, Kailandai harvested the crops, then selected seeds and bred them, eager to cultivate the finest saltwater magic rice.

The idea was good, but in reality, she couldn't sprout a single seedling.

"Could my seedling technique be wrong?" Kailandai asked, her confidence wavering.

If she had failed by some other method, she could have accepted it—but failing to sprout seedlings again, just like the World Tree, forced her to wonder whether her seedling technique had become outdated.

PS: Has no one noticed the adorable magical skeleton? Click below.