Chapter 238: Don't Blame Me for Being Impolite

Angr took out a bottle of black liquid, poured it all into the barrel, saw the color was still light, took out another bottle, and poured in three in total, stirred them evenly, then began the fine work.

His fingers flicked repeatedly, and the liquid in the barrel leapt up, bouncing toward certain plants and exploding, the mist spreading evenly over them.

He continued without pause until every plant had been coated with the water-fertilizer mixed with insect ash.

Negril fluttered back, reporting to Angr: "Angr, the Druids are constantly shining light on every plant—it looks like supplemental lighting, but the light is only red and blue, which is strange."

Angr immediately dropped the water-fertilizer and ran to the tower's top to look down.

The Druids were scattered across the fields, each tending a portion of the crops, their hands emitting red or blue light, continuously brushing over the plants.

Angr rested his chin on the windowsill, watching until the Druids finished their work and left.

Then he raised his palm, summoning a sphere of pure white light, rotated his hand a few times, and the light began to change color.

No, Angr shook his hand and summoned another white light—this one wasn't as soft as holy light, it was blinding, and staring too long made his eyes ache.

"Flash spell?" Negril leaned over and said: "Probably not a flash spell—they can sustain it for hours, more powerful than the magic arrays in Wraith City. Flash spells consume too much; they couldn't last this long."

No sooner had Negril finished speaking than the white light in Angr's hand turned blue, then after a moment, red.

Negril frowned for a long while, then hesitated: "Still a flash spell, but the elemental fluctuation is drastically reduced. Could it be that emitting only red and blue light cuts the cost? But what's the point?"

Talking won't help—must test. Angr immediately marked off a small control plot in the field: one section under red-blue light, one under holy light, one planted with luminescent moss for supplemental lighting.

After seven or eight days, the difference became clear: the crops under red-blue light were far sturdier in stalk and leaf than those under holy light or moss lighting.

"Looks like these Druids aren't just sitting around—they've got some unique techniques," Negril said.

Its cultivation knowledge hadn't been updated in a thousand years; everything current came from Angr's school, and if Angr didn't know it, neither did it.

Neither the cultivation methods from a thousand years ago nor Angr's knowledge included anything about red-blue light—but now they did.

Angr immediately expanded the lighting to the entire planting area, two hours per day.

But for the original control plot, he increased the dose: eight to nine hours daily, almost constantly bathed in light—and the plants grew leggy.

Supplemental lighting must be restrained. Angr tested and compared repeatedly, soon finding the optimal duration: under the lighting conditions of the Fallen Lands, three hours daily gave the best growth; beyond three hours, plants turned leggy.

A week later, Du Binqi quietly returned to the barrel, fumbling out a bottle of black liquid, poured it in, saw a few drops clinging to the bottle's walls, scooped up some water to rinse it, poured the rinse in too—not a single drop wasted.

He muttered under his breath: "Second bottle. One every seven or eight days. For the next two months, I'll need to use over ten more. This task is a loss. No good—I need more pay."

On the other side, Angr pulled out three bottles of black liquid, didn't even look, poured them all in, stirred and flicked them, then began watering.

Days passed one by one. During this time, Andong again visited him twice, saying the elves were searching everywhere for him, nearly in tears; now the whole world was curious: who was Angr, and why was he treating the elves so disrespectfully?

Bai Yin visited him several times, saying the commercial environment here was terrible and resources were scarce—he had already organized people to self-rescue and hoped Angr would provide high-yield grain seeds, then delivered a pile of Never-Dry Spring Stones.

In the Fallen Lands, Never-Dry Spring Stones were the most practical: streams were few, especially after the third month of Eternal Night, when surface water nearly vanished, yet air humidity remained high—any Never-Dry Spring Stone tossed into a breeze could condense water even during daytime.

With Never-Dry Spring Stones, Angr saved magic used for watering, freeing up more time for supplemental lighting.

So Angr gave Bai Yin several tons of grain as seed.

In the third month, Bai Yin dragged back a plow and told Angr: "I organized people to mine coal, dig ore, build furnaces and forges. After three months of work, we finally made iron plows—and various iron farming tools. Do you need them, my lord?"

Angr shook his head. The little zombies were better than iron plows.

Negril stared in disbelief: "In just over two months, you've done all this? You made iron tools? Can you even forge?"

Bai Yin scratched his head, embarrassed: "My lord, you're joking—I can't forge at all. But someone else can. I carried a few sacks of rice to the human camp, shouted 'Who knows how to forge?'—holy hell, the crowd that rushed me nearly tore me apart."

"I nearly got crushed, so I yelled: 'Who knows combat?' Twenty-some warriors rushed over and shielded me. Under their protection, I recruited a group of forgers, miners, furnace operators, farmers, laundry and cooks. The Grand Sage even assigned me a batch of zombies and skeletons, plus a few guards, saying they'd fully support my work."

Negril asked, puzzled: "The Grand Sage fully supports your work? What's it to him? And he sent guards to protect you? Where are the guards?"

As Negril spoke, a shadowy figure reluctantly emerged from behind Bai Yin: "Here I am, my lord." It was unmistakably the shadowy guards who had protected the Druids.

"Again you? What did Bai Yin do? The old undead actually sent you to guard him?" Negril asked, astonished.

The shadowy guards replied humbly: "Report, my lord: Bai Yin is organizing production. The Grand Sage says none of us possess Bai Yin's organizational ability, so we must ensure his safety."

The shadowy guards had become very obedient—dare not be otherwise. This embryo dragon had ties with the Grand Sage so close they rolled around together.

Negril sized up Bai Yin, nodded: "Ah, I see. Bai Yin's organizational ability is indeed strong. The old undead has good eyesight."

How could it not be strong? Among Angr's many followers, only Bai Yin and Andong required no oversight—they built their own commercial networks themselves.

Previously, war left the humans unwilling to organize production; the undead side lacked the capacity. Now, with a man like Bai Yin, iron tools emerged in just over two months.

With abundant iron tools and farming implements, more land could be cultivated more efficiently, and crops could be farmed more efficiently—thus, even without high-yield seeds, grain output could multiply several times over.

Problems technology couldn't solve, solve with scale. The Grand Sage suddenly realized: if productivity could be raised another one or two-fold, the food problem might be solved—no need for Druids at all.

Under these circumstances, how could the Grand Sage not value Bai Yin? Upon discovering he was a lich, he was even willing to poach Angr's follower, promising Bai Yin immediate command of the Fallen Lands' undead army if he pledged loyalty to him.

Bai Yin firmly replied: "I have a master!"

Regardless, Bai Yin's ability had been proven. The Grand Sage ordered all units to fully cooperate with Bai Yin and even dispatched shadowy guards to protect him.

Negril couldn't help but sigh: "Bai Yin, you're incredible. You solved the food problem this way—low yield? Scale it up. Low efficiency? Upgrade tools. Food problems don't need food solutions. Brilliant."

Bai Yin blushed, scratching his head: "I just thought this place had no industry, labor was cheap, and mineral resources abundant, so I got busy—not because I wanted to solve the food problem."

"Too bad your method takes time. To expand cultivation scale, you'll need the next planting season. Otherwise, you'd have already won this contest. Have you encountered any difficulties?" Negril asked.

If Bai Yin faced any difficulties, as the God of Knowledge, he could help answer them.

Bai Yin paused: "Contest? Difficulties? Yes—the world has too little wood. I forged many hoes, but no wood for handles. Now everyone slips the hoes over their hands and bends over to dig—exhausting. If only we had bamboo."

Hearing "slipped hoes over hands," Negril involuntarily glanced at the little zombie. Hearing "if only we had bamboo," it glanced again at Angr, thinking inwardly: Could it really be that coincidental?

Sure enough, Angr tilted his head.

Negril flew over, hugged Angr, then turned to Bai Yin: "Bai Yin, come here—I have something to tell you."

Since Negril told Bai Yin to come over, the shadowy guard clinging to him could only reluctantly detach and vanish to the side.

They returned to the relay tower. Negril's consciousness retreated into the Palace of Rest, then looked out at the farm—and sure enough, dozens of acres along the edge had grown into a bamboo grove.

"Damn it, the moment you tilted your head, I knew you planted bamboo," Negril grumbled.

Just stole the bamboo shoots from the Druids, now you've planted a whole grove—the Druids will be furious.

"You planted it outside, fine. But you planted it inside your space—you can't just pull it out casually. That'll expose your possession of a large space. If the Grand Sage finds out, he'll connect it to the Palace of Rest. Do you understand?" Negril warned Angr with rare seriousness.

Angr nodded.

He ran into the bamboo grove, accelerated the growth of one bamboo, and plucked its seeds.

He ran out with the seeds, picked any spot, planted them, watered them, then cast a spell.

His actions drew the Druids' attention. A few climbed the wall and saw—couldn't help but curse: "Damn it… my lord, he's stealing our bamboo!"

The words died in their throats as the unicorn in the corner glared at them.

Du Binqi turned livid—not only did he steal their seeds, he planted them right in front of them. He was furious.

Suppressing his rage, Du Binqi called out: "Friends outside, this is too much! You steal our bamboo and fruits—they're our carefully bred fast-growing strains! You're thieves, stealing our work!"

Angr turned, looked at him, nodded, then dashed over, leapt up to the thorn wall's height, flipped his hand, and placed a bottle of black liquid on the wall.

He landed, dashed back. Fair exchange—he'd taken so much from them; he should return something of equal value.

Looking at the black liquid on the wall, Du Binqi was stunned: "What's this? Compensation? Are you joking? One bottle of water to match our carefully bred seeds…?"

As he spoke, Du Binqi uncapped the bottle, sniffed lightly—his face changed instantly. He couldn't finish his sentence.

The other Druids, hearing Du Binqi's shout, were ready to continue: "Yeah, one bottle of water to match…?"

Du Binqi kicked them each in the shin, silenced them, and shoved them back into the hut.

Shutting his hut door, Du Binqi pulled out his own black liquid. Though both were black, Angr's was far thicker, and the bottle was different.

He sniffed both—similar smells, but Angr's contained a far more potent essence.

He carefully dipped a wooden stick into it. The moment he pulled it out, the dead, peeled, cut wooden stick sprouted.

"Damn! This is real Jie! Oh god, real Jie—not my expensive, crappy diluted version! Oh god, where did this dead skull get this?!" Du Binqi trembled all over.

The special property of Essence Insect Ash Liquid was its ability to revive dead matter—something ordinary insect ash liquid could never do.

From then on, Du Binqi's attitude changed completely. He never again accused Angr of stealing seeds; instead, he actively offered more seeds, leaning over the wall asking if Angr wanted them—if so, he'd trade for that black liquid.

The other Druids were curious: what was this black liquid? Why had proud Du Binqi changed so drastically, even climbing the wall to hawk seeds?

But the seeds he offered no longer interested Angr—either worthless, or Angr already had them. Bai Yin had collected over a thousand common seeds from the Prime Material Plane; unless Du Binqi had bred them himself, Angr already possessed them.

Just as Du Binqi racked his brains to trick Angr into another bottle of Essence Insect Ash Liquid, the growing season neared its end, and the crops ripened.

The Grand Sage received word and rushed over immediately, personally witnessing the contest's outcome. Under his observation, Du Binqi's side harvested eight hundred jin per mu; Angr's side harvested eleven hundred jin per mu. Angr won by an absolute margin.

Du Binqi's face turned ashen. He hadn't expected to lose—so badly: "It's because of Jie. No good—I need more Jie. First, ask if they'll sell. If not… then don't blame me for being uncivil."

ps: don't hold back your monthly votes