Chapter 236: Druidi Were Plucked Bald

"No, no, don't hit!" Daggu rushed over, gently pushing left and right to separate everyone.

The shadow guard's glowing red eyes widened in shock; he swiftly raised his hands in front of him, but Daggu's hand still shoved him "explode," scattering his form.

Ang also raised both hands to block Daggu's other arm, his body unmoved, but the soil beneath his feet gave way, sliding backward several steps.

Daggu panicked: "Oh oh, sorry sorry, I didn't mean to!" He hurried toward the exploded shadow guard, as if trying to piece him back together.

"Lord Daggu, I know you didn't mean it—don't come closer!" The shadow guard formed a face and shouted urgently, stopping Daggu's approach; if he touched him again, even unintentionally, he'd be finished.

Daggu stopped, dejected, scratching his head: "Sorry… you're all so fragile… it's better with Ang's big cats…"

The shadow guards no longer cared what Daggu said—as long as he stayed away. The lead shadow guard said: "Lord Daggu, the Arch-Sage has ordered us to requisition this fertile land for the Druids to cultivate. Is this your territory?"

Daggu scratched his head: "No, it's Ang's."

Daggu stepped aside, revealing Ang behind him.

The shadow guard blinked in confusion; high-ranking undead in the Land of Despair were rare, and Daggu was one of them—so his ownership made sense. But a plain gold skeleton? Why did he own so much farmland?

Still, he didn't dwell on it and said directly: "Gold skeleton, the Arch-Sage demands you surrender your farmland for the Druids to cultivate. Please cooperate."

"No." Ang refused.

"Gold skeleton, I urge you to cooperate—this is the Arch-Sage's command." The shadow guard spoke sharply.

"No." Ang refused.

The little angel dashed forward, but before she could act, Ang grabbed her by the neck and lifted her up.

The little angel turned back in confusion, pointing at the shadow guard: "Aow!"

Ang shook his head: "Aow."

"Oh." The little angel slumped and stepped back.

The shadow guards, thrown off by this interruption, were suddenly at a loss—they'd never encountered anyone refusing the Arch-Sage's command. What should they do now?

But they soon didn't need to worry: they all stepped back as a dark shadow raced across the horizon, skidding to a perfect stop before them.

The Arch-Sage stormed out of the carriage, but upon seeing the scene, he froze: "Daggu? What are you doing here?"

Daggu scratched his scalp and pointed at Ang and the others: "New friends."

The Arch-Sage followed Daggu's gesture, his gaze landing on Ang and the group.

A plain gold skeleton, a cute pink human girl, a lich, a bronze dragonet, a big cat, a human woman far off, three humans, another lich, a unicorn… What kind of bizarre combination was this?

Since they were Daggu's friends, it wouldn't be wise to force the issue. The Arch-Sage, who had just been acting furious, couldn't help but rub his head and turned to the Druids floating above: "Honored guests, this land is already owned—could you please choose another location?"

Dubinqi's voice came from the eagle: "No, this soil is the most fertile, perfect for growing crops. If we move elsewhere, we can't guarantee a yield of a thousand jin per mu."

Of course it's fertile!

Ang had mixed insect ash as base fertilizer, blended in bird droppings, added corresponding wood ash and crushed stone from the Earth's Sacred Hammer, meticulously calibrated the soil composition based on his thousand-year farming experience, and purified the soil of insects, ants, and mold with purification spells.

Dubinqi could never find such soil naturally—he'd never even seen anything like it—and would never give it up easily.

The Arch-Sage was now torn; if it were any other reason, he could have dismissed it—but Dubinqi had invoked "cannot achieve a thousand jin per mu," forcing him to take it seriously.

If the yield were only five hundred, three hundred, or even one hundred jin per mu, the Druids could always blame him: "It's your fault we didn't get that land—we couldn't reach the yield!"

They'd simply shift all responsibility away.

To avoid future excuses, it seemed better to grant them the land—and compensate Ang's friends accordingly.

As he was about to speak, the bronze dragonet suddenly spoke: "Old undead, do you still recognize me?"

Nagelis had been watching the Arch-Sage's expression; seeing his final look, Nagelis knew trouble was coming. Knowing this old undead, he was clearly preparing to force the issue.

Other matters could be handled roughly—but taking Ang's farmland was absolutely unacceptable. If a fight broke out and the Arch-Sage died, it would be a disaster.

With no other choice, Nagelis abandoned concealment and shouted: "Old undead!"

Such a disrespectful term enraged the shadow guards: "How dare you!"

They were about to charge and cut down the little bronze dragon when the Arch-Sage stopped them, staring in disbelief at the dragonet, stunned and uncertain: "God of Knowledge?"

Among those he knew, only that self-proclaimed omniscient bronze dragon called him "old undead."

"It's been over a thousand years—I never thought you'd still remember me," Nagelis said.

Confirming it was truly the God of Knowledge, the Arch-Sage was even more shocked, his form trembling with excitement: "God of Knowledge, you… you… you've lost weight! How did you end up here? Is the Palace of Rest…?"

Nagelis knew what he wanted to ask, but shook her head and fabricated an excuse: "I don't know what happened to the Palace of Rest. Piero saved me."

If not absolutely necessary, Nagelis never wanted to reveal her identity to these elders of the Undead Empire. Could the Arch-Sage accept that Ang now controlled the divine essence and became the God of the Undead? What about Harvey?

Who knew? What if they refused and demanded Ang surrender the Palace of Rest?

These undead elders' reverence for the Undead Sovereign was unshakable. Could they accept the divine essence falling into the hands of a vegetable-growing skeleton?

Who knew? To avoid complications, Nagelis preferred not to reveal herself—after all, they could never return to the Palace of Rest.

But now, forced to reveal her identity, she had to fabricate an excuse first and later coordinate with Anthony.

"Is it really you? How did you end up here? Why are you like this? Oh my, you're so thin—how long has it been since you ate?" The Arch-Sage rushed over, frantically patting and probing Nagelis.

"Stop touching! Don't paw at me! Get away, get away, get away!!" Nagelis rolled and kicked the Arch-Sage aside.

The shadow guards had never seen the Arch-Sage act so uncharacteristically; their expressions changed, and they quietly sheathed their weapons and stepped back.

Dubinqi and the others were left standing aside as the Arch-Sage and Nagelis huddled together, whispering, occasionally bursting into curses like "Damn it!" "Old undead!" and "Embryo dragon!"

After more than ten minutes, they seemed to have reached an agreement. They parted, Nagelis returned to Ang's side, and whispered:

"Ang, the Arch-Sage offers two scarecrows in exchange for half your farmland, divided along the relay tower—east to them, west to us. We'll compete: whoever wins gets the Heavenly Scepter. Do you agree?"

Scarecrows? Ang touched the straw hat on his back and nodded eagerly.

If anything on the farm was closest to him, it was unquestionably the scarecrow. Unfortunately, since the undead souls vanished, the scarecrows lost their magic, couldn't take form, and eventually rotted into nothing but a hat.

Ang hated others burning his fields or seizing his land—but fair exchange was fine. He could always clear new land. What mattered more than scarecrows?

Nagelis sighed in relief; she'd suggested the scarecrows because she'd thought long and hard—only farming-related items could move this vegetable-growing skeleton.

"Do you have confidence? These people claim to be champions of the Spring Wind Grain Contest, breeding crops yielding a thousand jin per mu. Can you beat them? The Heavenly Scepter must not fall into their hands." Nagelis asked.

If Ang had no confidence, she'd refuse the contest and instead negotiate a "friendship deal" with the Arch-Sage to secretly acquire the scepter—she could even have Anthony forge a replica for the Druids.

Ang nodded.

That settled it. Nagelis flew over to reply; the Arch-Sage had also reached an agreement with Dubinqi. Originally, Dubinqi had refused—such fertile land was a treasure to Druids; how could they give up half?

But when they heard it was a farming competition to determine who produced higher yields, every Druid—including Dubinqi—laughed, wearing expressions of "These kids are so cute," and immediately agreed.

Nagelis returned with two scarecrows—straw figures with intricately woven hats, far more refined than any Ang had ever seen.

The boundary was drawn along the relay tower; Ang's group retreated to the west side.

After Ang's group withdrew, the Druids—except Dubinqi—approached the boundary, sowed seeds, and cast spells.

As the magic surged, the seeds rapidly sprouted: thorny vines grew wildly, then, guided by the Druids, formed a three-meter-high wall enclosing their entire eastern land.

Flash was called over; the big cat, little angel, little zombie, Ang, and the bronze dragonet lined up on his back, peering curiously into the thorny wall.

Nagelis whispered in shock: "Growing faster than your Death Aura? Are real Druids this powerful?"

"No, it's the seeds," Ang said.

……

After everyone dispersed and the Druids likely fell asleep, a shadow crept silently to the thorn wall, tapped one bud, and watched it rapidly grow, bloom, and fruit; the shadow plucked a handful of seeds.

Then it circled to another wall and repeated the process, collecting seeds from different plants.

The next morning, several Druids stared in confusion at the thorn walls—now riddled with gaps where flowers had bloomed and fruits had ripened, causing premature decay.

……

Before Eternal Night ended, Ang's competition with the Druids couldn't begin—but Ang didn't care, because he'd discovered something else: these Druids were a treasure trove—so many valuable things on them.

The first day, they'd produced thorn vines—a fast-growing plant that, under Druidic influence, grew into a wall within a day.

The next day, they planted a tree—short and stout, yet growing rapidly, bearing fruit the very next day: each fruit the size of a human head.

They picked the fruits, roasted them over fire, cracked them open, and released the scent of grain; inside were lumps of yellow, flour-like substance that, when roasted, could be squeezed into balls and eaten.

"My god, that's starch! These fruits can serve as staple food!" Nagelis leaned out the top-floor window of the relay tower, staring in astonishment.

Ang and the others mimicked her, leaning out the window to watch curiously.

Dubinqi probably now regretted using the relay tower as the boundary—the thorn wall was useless, since the tower was taller, and every move they made was visible.

Moreover, these people had no shame—they didn't even bother sneaking; they just openly stared.

After eating, the Druids hurried to another corner, sowed more fast-growing seeds, and quickly grew a wooden hut—then retreated inside to do whatever they needed.

Once they were all inside, a shadow crept to the thorn wall, peered through a crack, focused, then reached out—his hand vanished before him, reappearing seven or eight meters away beside the starch fruit tree, snatching a fruit, and vanishing again.

The shadow pulled his hand back, now holding a fruit, and hurried back to the relay tower.

Back at the tower, Nagelis couldn't help but scold: "Using the Dimensional Hand to steal? You're really…"

At dinner, seeing one fruit missing from the tree, one Druid finally snapped: "Who's the shameless thief?! Haven't you ever seen breadfruit?! Never eaten it? Say so! Old man here will give you one! Stealing rots your hands! Shameless, no guts…!"

Flash excitedly ran over: "Who's yelling? Who's yelling? Great! Watch me!"

Taking a deep breath, Flash stood on the thorn wall side and launched into a torrent: "%￥……#%@amp; …￥￥*#……￥*￥……#amp; #amp; amp; …^#……*￥……@#￥（@#￥%（%amp; ……￥……）！%#！@#！@#……amp; ……"

Amid Flash's booming curses, the Druids fled: "Forget it, forget it—we won't argue with these thugs. Stealing breadfruit won't help them—they can't grow seeds anyway."

They couldn't fight, couldn't curse back, and were constantly being robbed—they felt like they were going bald.

Just as Ang had harvested six special seeds from the Druids, dawn began to break.