Chapter 239: The Empress as Hostage

Du Binqi and his group packed their belongings and left, reluctant and resentful; the other Druids continued muttering about "cheating," "fake," and "do it again," clearly dissatisfied.

Only Du Binqi thought he understood the reason, so he stayed silent and instead tried to strike up a few acquaintances, repeatedly expressing interest in bulk-purchasing that black liquid—but was refused by Ang.

"This Golden Skull, I am an official of the Main Plane Druid Guild, qualified to recommend outstanding Druids for membership; joining the Druid Guild comes with many benefits."

Ang tilted his head.

"This Golden Skull, I have excellent relations with the elves; your magic bears many elven traces—you must have been trained by elves. Show me some face."

Elves?! Stealing my fields? No way! Ang shook his head.

"This Golden Skull, I hold great status on the Main Plane; one word from me and wealth, beauties, status…" Here, Du Binqi suddenly realized what he was speaking to, glanced downward, and fell silent.

"This Golden Skull, think carefully—cross me, and the consequences will be severe," Du Binqi finally resorted to threats.

Ang tilted his head.

Kuba Da, this conversation couldn't go on—he suspected the other was an idiot, and honestly, what else could a pile of bones be?

The Druids ultimately left, stripping everything away—breadfruit trees, bamboo, all dug up and burned; even the well was filled in, leaving not a trace.

But what did it matter? Ang had already stripped everything he could—especially the private seeds, which were not only the Druids' precious wealth but also gave Ang mature ideas for improvement.

After Du Binqi and the others departed, the Grand Sage arrived, bringing the Heavenly Scepter.

"This Heavenly Scepter requires immense holy light energy to activate—at least six seraphim with four wings or more are needed to use it. Though I don't know where you captured a holy maiden, relying on her to activate this scepter is impossible," the Grand Sage said, handing the scepter to Negrilis with a smug grin.

Holy maiden? Negrilis froze, turned to look at the little angel—he'd mistaken the wingless little angel for a holy maiden, while the real holy maiden, Shama La, had been ignored because her holy light was impure and lacked the true holy aura.

Yet this also revealed, from another angle, that the Grand Sage hadn't carefully scanned their identities—if he had, the true natures of the little angel and Shama La would have been instantly exposed.

Let the misunderstanding stand—it was fine. They never intended to use the little angel to activate the Heavenly Scepter.

Thinking of this, Negrilis feigned anger: "You knew we couldn't use it, yet you still offered it as a prize! You old undead!"

The Grand Sage sheepishly replied: "I originally used it to lure the Church of Light—but I didn't catch any of them, only a group of Druids and you. Shall I swap it for something else?"

"No, I want this one," Negrilis quickly clutched the scepter to his chest with his short claw; then the old undead and the embryonic dragon exchanged glances and burst into a cunning, sly laugh.

…

The Grand Sage, driving away, was full of doubts: "That old yellow dragon seems confident it can activate the Heavenly Scepter—why? It can't possibly be hiding six four-winged angels, can it?"

Though puzzled, the Grand Sage didn't care much—the Heavenly Scepter was his carefully chosen bait, because in the Lands of Despair, the scepter's greatest function—summoning Heaven—was useless; the sky was full of spatial rifts, and if Heaven were summoned, it would be shredded instantly.

Conversely, the Grand Sage actually hoped to summon Heaven—to draw the Holy Heaven down and shred it, thus depriving the Church of Light of one of its dimensional transport artifacts.

Poor Grand Sage—he still didn't know that the Church of Light had long lost its Heaven; for a thousand years, the Church could no longer summon Heaven, only spirits; and since half a year ago, they couldn't even summon spirits anymore.

After the Grand Sage left, the Heavenly Scepter came into Ang's hands; after activating Purification over three thousand times, the scepter glowed.

Ang felt a flood of information surge into his soul—instantly, he mastered the use of the Heavenly Scepter.

The Heavenly Scepter was an arm's length long, with a sculpture of an angel at the top, arms crossed before its chest; Ang gripped it tightly, and the base instantly extended two more segments, tripling its length.

Negrilis was circling the scepter when the extending segments nearly jabbed him in the face.

Holding the extended scepter, Ang planted its base into the ground—and instantly, a magical array's glow erupted from the point of contact, projecting onto the earth.

But though projected, no further changes occurred for a long while.

After observing for a while, Negrilis hesitated: "Could it be the ground's uneven?"

Possible. A crowd immediately began leveling the ground—scraping, tamping, compacting—then tried again. Sure enough, the magical array glowed brightly on the flat surface, releasing powerful magical fluctuations.

Lu Se, who didn't understand magic, crept closer and whispered: "Lord Negrilis, why does the ground need to be flat?"

Negrilis replied: "A magical array is a precise energy structure—every rune, every energy pathway, every component must be exact, or it fails. If the ground isn't flat, straight energy pathways and runes bend—and of course, it won't work."

"Oh, so are there magical arrays that are naturally bent?" Lu Se asked.

Negrilis glanced at him: "You mean, arrays that don't need a flat surface to work? That's a classic outsider question. Of course there are—curved, three-dimensional, layered ones—but flat arrays are simplest; simpler structures have fewer errors and higher safety."

"Oh~ So the World Transit Station raises its platform just to make it flat—for safety, right?" Lu Se extrapolated, understanding.

The projected magical array tore open a glowing portal; Ang stuck his head through and saw the Heavenly Staircase atop the temple.

Looking down the temple, he immediately spotted the perfectly aligned Divine Square, and on it, the elf bean plants—each laden with elf beans.

Huh? Elf beans are fruiting?

Ang's heart jolted; his body passed through the portal and he hurried toward the square.

Seeing him go through, the little angel and little zombie naturally didn't lag—they followed, and soon a crowd poured through.

Big Cat, seeing the ground covered in elf beans, went mad—lunged at one plant, its tiny paws moving like lightning, leaving afterimages; in moments, it stripped the entire plant bare.

Ang quickly realized this: due to the elf beans' special nature, magic harvesting was impossible—it easily damaged buds and affected future harvests; hand-picking was safest.

Ang followed Big Cat; the little angel and little zombie held large cloth sacks, waiting to lift and shake each plant after Big Cat finished.

"Aowu!" Big Cat growled, wanting to scratch someone.

Ang pulled two elf beans from the sack—one in each hand, one fist clenched.

Big Cat looked left, looked right—chose the elf beans.

Thus, one tree picked = two elf beans as reward. After harvesting over three hundred trees, Big Cat gained over six hundred elf beans, its eyes squinting into slits with joy.

While Ang harvested elf beans, Negrilis studied the portal: "Is this the 'gate'?" He emphasized the word "gate."

The portal's diameter was two meters—not small; even Big Bone and Lightning could easily pass through. Inside, a semi-transparent energy membrane shimmered.

Because of this membrane, the portal was extremely stable—nothing like the wild, chaotic nature of ordinary spatial rifts. Without anyone touching it, it simply hung there, silently open, then suddenly shrank and vanished after a long while.

"Oh no! The teleportation gate is gone—we can't return to the Lands of Despair!" Negrilis flew anxiously to Ang's side.

Ang pulled out the Heavenly Scepter: "Can reopen."

"Can reopen the portal? And reopen it in the Lands of Despair? That powerful?" Negrilis asked, astonished.

Ang nodded: "The array's imprint remains."

"Good—if not, we'd have to return via the teleportation array again, and then we'd have to babble nonsense to the old undead." Negrilis said.

In the Lands of Despair, the teleportation gate vanished, leaving only an imprint on the ground. Night had fallen; the imprint was carved into the earth, silent and undisturbed, barely noticeable.

Six or seven owls silently flew above the relay tower, circling it several times; one even flew inside, circling once—finding nothing but a mindless relay spirit.

The owls landed, gathered, and spoke in human tongues: "Where are they? Ran?"

"Looks like it—no luggage left. Definitely ran."

"You're stupid. If they have a space artifact, even if they had luggage, they wouldn't just leave it lying around."

"But there must be traces of daily life—inside the tower, no signs of habitation."

"Outside, we found plenty of horse dung."

"Damn, they ran fast—did they know we'd come back?"

"Lucky for them. We'll settle accounts with them later."

The owls flew off angrily toward Shengbicheng.

Soon after they left, the array on the ground flickered once—then dimmed, because Ang, preparing to open a space gate back, suddenly received a soul-call from Anthony.

"My lord, the elves have issued another announcement: the God of Life invites Lord Ang to visit the Elf Forest."

"The God of Life woke up?" Negrilis perked up: "Excellent! I'll make those elves pay dearly."

Returning to the Main Plane meant no space gate—directly teleport down via the Heavenly Staircase, return to the Abyss of Rest, then use the teleport array to reach the Dragon's Den in the Dragonfall Gorge.

Through bloodline call, Bai Hou and Nai Aili quickly returned to the dragon den; after a long separation, everyone was delighted; Nai Aili beat Negrilis up.

"Don't need help?" Big Bone scratched his head.

"No no, this is how they express affection," Lu Se said, staying just out of Big Bone's arm's reach.

"They have such good feelings."

After their roughhousing, Negrilis twisted its fractured leg and had Ang heal it, then asked the Dragon Speaker, Sha Feiya: "How's the situation now? Did the elves harass you? Why the urgency to recall us?"

Their knowledge of the elves' movements came from Anthony; his subordinates were Church forces, so their intelligence naturally favored the Church's perspective—far less accurate than firsthand accounts from Sha Feiya and others.

"No no," Sha Feiya shook her head quickly: "The elves didn't harass us—they treated us wonderfully. They dug us many wells and fengshui towers, solved our oasis's water problem, and gave us several crops suited for desert planting. If not for your healing, they even planned to offer us free medical care."

"So nice? Good on them—I'll cheat them less. What's a fengshui tower?" Negrilis asked.

"A tower shaped like a windmill, connected to underground pits. Wind blows over the top, drawing water from the pits below via a small pump handle—drinkable or for irrigation."

Sha Feiya explained: "According to the elves, air contains water elements; when hot air hits the windmill, it's channeled into the cool underground pits, where the water elements condense into water—transforming wind into water. Hence, fengshui tower. That's the gist."

"The principle isn't complex—but this isn't elf style at all. It's more like those Star Republic mages—avoid magic and elemental use wherever possible. A bunch of mages obsessed with stripping magic and elements out of everything—strange." Negrilis mused.

"Uh, the elf who built our fengshui towers said the same—she said it wasn't elf technology, but best suited for desert conditions."

Negrilis nodded, acknowledging it, then asked: "Anything else?"

Sha Feiya glanced at Ang, now wearing a straw hat, and hesitated: "The elves' Grand Druid killed the land you planted."

Killed it?! Ang's head instantly burned with rage; his gaze locked onto Sha Feiya.

…

In the Elf Forest, the entire World Tree was shrouded in a green mist; any elf entering the mist instantly lost consciousness and was shoved out by a swarm of animals.

All animals were unaffected within the mist—only elves were. Now everyone knew: the God of Life was furious with the elves.

At the mist's edge, Gailade held a collar, about to slip it over her neck; she clearly felt the God of Life's wrath—this was the first time she sensed the God's emotions directly, without Kailandai's translation.

This emotion erupted immediately after she reported the elves' treatment of Ang and others—just one word: Go!

Not just her—every elf felt it, including guards stationed at the forest's edge.

Then the green mist began to disperse, driving all elves out of the World Tree's range.

The elves' homes were built upon the World Tree; as the mist rose, everyone was expelled from their homes.

Gailade's hand was held by Kailandai: "Really do this? Once the Life Collar is worn, others can control your life and will—make you do anything. Are you sure?"

Gailade smiled bitterly: "If not, how can we earn Lord Ang's trust? He won't even give us a chance to speak."

"But you're our Empress—your status is too sensitive. This implies the elf race submits to Ang. The people below won't accept it." Kailandai said.

"Sigh—it's precisely because of my status that I might gain Lord Ang's forgiveness. I will abdicate. With me as a hostage, perhaps they'll believe our sincerity and grant us a chance to apologize." Gailade said.

"But…" Kailandai still wanted to speak, but Gailade gently shook her head, stopping her.

He raised the collar with both hands to slip it over his neck, just as it was about to slide in—suddenly, the space around him felt sealed, and his hands froze.

A pale hand reached out, took the collar from Gelaide, and said: "Your identity is too sensitive. Let me be the hostage instead—surely a Truth Mage carries sufficient weight."