Chapter 281

Until the very last moment, the Goddess of Redemption didn't want to activate the Escape Boots—running away was easy, but moving her collection? That was hard, and for someone who treasured her collection like her own heart, it was like being stabbed with a tiny knife.

In the years to come, whenever she saw similar items, she couldn't help but clutch her chest, her heart bleeding: "Oh no, I… I used to have this."

But compared to her life, these things seemed unimportant—run now, and rebuild later.

As soon as the Escape Boots activated, the Goddess of Redemption's form instantly blurred and sank into the ground.

Ang had already prepared—he lunged forward and activated the Cross-Dimensional Hand.

The Goddess of Redemption hurled the Scale of Equality at him like a hammer.

Ang paused, confused—why throw the Scale of Equality if it wasn't activated?

He caught it with both hands, and instantly, the Scale of Equality, shaped like a single-legged balance, dissolved into a ball of light that flung Ang backward.

Huh? Ang frantically gripped the ball of light—the Scale of Equality had been a physical object in the Goddess's hands, but in his, it became pure energy? What was the principle behind this?

But he could hold the light—he firmly clutched the energy in both hands.

The Goddess of Redemption, now submerged underground, cast him a startled glance before vanishing completely—perhaps surprised he could grasp light itself.

Ang struggled to stabilize the light, merging it into the Ring of Scales. When he looked up, the Goddess of Redemption was gone—nowhere to be seen.

No one dared attack the Goddess of Redemption—too weak a strike wouldn't penetrate, too strong a strike might be absorbed; they could only watch helplessly as she sank into the earth and vanished.

"Too bad, she got away," Negril sighed, slapping his hips.

Luna, however, dismissed it: "No reason to regret it. I told you before—the Goddess of Redemption is the hardest of the Light Gods to kill. You can't kill her, she's got too many relics and a mess of strange abilities. Killing her is nearly impossible. Didn't you see? Even Bonehard Luo Ke killed her once—and now she's back."

Hearing this, Negril felt better—Luo Ke couldn't kill her, so her escape was normal.

"At least Ang got the Scale of Equality. Ang, how's it? Can you use it?" Negril turned to Ang.

Ang tilted his head: "Only once."

As he spoke, the Ring of Scales appeared behind him—its center now bore a cross-shaped balance, its arms and central rod interwoven with the ring to form a true scale pattern.

"Now that's a scale," Negril lamented. "But only usable once? Meaningless."

The true power of the Scale of Equality isn't in dying with your enemy—it's in deterrence. Let others know you possess such power. A weapon is most terrifying when it's still on the shelf.

But if you can use it only once, how do you demonstrate its deterrence? Use it once, and it's gone—you've thrown away the only weapon on the shelf.

"So we came here for nothing? No way. Going home empty-handed invites the Curse God's favor. Let's search for loot." Negril said.

Luna blinked: "No, I know the Curse God. He never said that."

Negril's expression remained calm, pretending not to hear. The others had already rushed into the temple, eyes gleaming—who cared if the Curse God said it or not? After all this effort, no one was leaving empty-handed.

The little angel ran fastest, sniffing like a dog—once he spotted a target, he punched the floor, shattering the tiles to reveal crystal cabinets inside.

Inside the cabinets lay a pair of gauntlets, radiating holy light.

He smashed the cabinet, snatched the gauntlets, shoved them into his arms, and sprinted toward the next tile.

Second fastest was the little zombie—it charged straight for the sword glowing with soul-fire, endlessly whispering, "Give me blood… give me soul…"

The empty armor stepped forward and punched the little zombie.

The little zombie clutched its head, shoulder-slammed forward—and as it collided, black aura surged from its shoulder.

The empty armor shattered on impact.

So violent? The sword's voice suddenly grew fainter, its plea now reduced to: "I… I… I…"

The little zombie seized the sword, pouring soul energy into it—and with that energy came the little zombie's will.

"As you wish, my master…" The sword melted, transforming into a shield whose front bore a grotesque, snarling face.

The little zombie carried the shield like a heavy shield-bearer, running back and forth.

Every colored tile in the temple had been overturned—the Goddess of Redemption's entire collection was unearthed. The bounty was so rich, the value so staggering, Negril's eyes nearly popped out.

"Ku Bada, we're rich! Ku Bada, we're rich!" Negril flew back and forth, repeating only this phrase.

These treasures were too low-grade for the Goddess of Redemption—only good for collecting, useless in practice.

But for the Purple Bones Titan, the Night Watchers, Luo Ge and his men—they were perfect. Too high-grade items were unusable; the relics, for instance, were all piled together, untouched by anyone.

Luna didn't want any of it. Xiaomala liked a few pieces—but they vanished in a flash, snatched into the little angel's arms. Anyone who dared challenge it got a loud screech.

The Purple Bones Titans transformed—each now wielding a Thunder Spear.

"Thunder Spears? Weapons of the Gold Titans? Where did you find these? So many?" Negril exclaimed.

The Purple Bones Titan pointed to a corner: "Found them there—over a dozen, all stuck in a basket."

"Not the finest weapons, but perfect for you. They absorb ambient thunder energy, then release it all upon impact—single-use ranged weapons."

"But for you, their ability to absorb thunder energy matters more. Hold them, absorb the thunder energy—they'll accelerate your evolution. No need to treat them as single-use weapons," Negril said.

These Purple Bones Titans were all half-breeds—though they carried Thunder Titan blood, they couldn't control thunder energy, relying purely on brute strength.

True Thunder Titans were massive creatures over ten meters tall, brimming with thunder energy, every movement a thunderous strike—single-handedly defeating adult Bronze Dragons wasn't hard.

But possessing Thunder Titan blood meant the Purple Bones could still evolve—if they awakened the thunder energy within their bloodline, becoming true Thunder Titans wasn't impossible.

For Thunder Titans, these spears were disposable. For the Purple Bones, they were ideal—reusable, capable of absorbing thunder energy to strengthen themselves, inching toward true Thunder Titan status.

Of course, the dream was beautiful—whether it would succeed? No one knew. Just like every Dragonkin dreams of becoming a true dragon—but no one has ever succeeded.

"Don't put anything away yet. Let me inventory everything first, then distribute according to your traits. Don't just grab the high-level stuff—I'm talking to you, Ao Ao, bring those items here for me to count." Negril barked in Ao Ao's language.

The little angel clutched a bulging pile, too full to see how many items he'd taken.

Negril hadn't yelled yet—but the moment he did, the little angel clutched his loot tighter and bolted for the exit.

"Ang! Ang! Stop her! Make her bring the stuff for me to count! Ang? Ang?" He called several times—no answer. He turned around—Ang was gone.

"Where did this guy run off to? Is there a field here too?" Following his sense, Negril flew to the garden—and there was Ang, collecting seeds from various plants.

For plants already bearing fruit or flowers, Ang simply picked them and stored them. For those not yet blooming, he stepped on them—plants in the garden instantly grew, blooming and fruiting in frantic competition.

The Goddess of Redemption's garden must have held many valuable crops. Realizing this, Negril didn't stop him—he waited quietly until Ang finished collecting.

When they left the divine realm, the entire place was a wreck—some had weapons, some armor, some seeds—everyone was satisfied.

Of course, the highest-tier relics, unusable by anyone, ended up with Ang—he didn't even look at them, just shoved them all into the Palace of Rest.

Back at the farm, the wind had stopped. The grand gate's small hole had vanished.

Lisa stepped forward to persuade the Minotaurs: "Would you leave here? Worship the God of Undeath—you'll be well-fed."

Hearing they could eat their fill, the Minotaurs nearly crushed Lisa.

Shoving the Minotaurs into the Palace of Rest, Ang pressed his Cross-Dimensional Hand against the farm's boundary marker and pushed hard.

The entire marker sank into the Palace of Rest, appearing beside the farm inside.

Outside, the farm's barrier collapsed with a thunderous rumble—the soil turned to powder, sinking deeper and deeper until nothing remained but dry volcanic rock.

Inside the Palace of Rest, the newly appeared boundary marker trembled violently—the original loam-covered land was forcibly pushed aside by normal soil, expanding wider and wider.

After forty hours, a patch of normal farmland had been forcibly created beside the original farm—exactly 3, 00 mu, matching the outside area.

"This doesn't seem like transformed land—it was forcibly squeezed into the Palace of Rest. So the Palace just gained 3, 00 mu of new area? That's incredible. What is this boundary marker made of?" Negril muttered in astonishment.

"Could it be a dimensional space? Should we break one open and check?" Lamot suggested.

The Palace of Rest's space could be filled with dimensional space—when they rescued the Dimensional Beast, its payment had been hundreds of cubic meters of dimensional space.

But hundreds of cubic meters meant nothing to the Palace of Rest—adding them caused no visible change.

Negril now regretted it—hundreds of cubic meters meant nothing to the Palace, but as an independent space, it would've been invaluable.

It's hard to find a space artifact this large. If they'd known Xiludi back then, they could've had her seal that space into a device—gaining a hundreds-cubic-meter artifact to store anything, instead of dumping everything on Ang.

Too bad—regret was useless. The space could be added, but not removed. They had to accept it.

Now, the Palace of Rest had gained 3, 00 mu—2. square kilometers—a vast area. Clearly, the Palace's boundaries had expanded.

So the boundary marker didn't transform existing land—it directly expanded the area. Only dimensional space could achieve this.

The moment Lamot voiced his suggestion, he felt a dangerous intent focus on him—he instantly realized his mistake and corrected himself: "Of course we can't break it! How could we? Such a precious thing must be protected at all costs!"

Ang stared at him skeptically for a moment, then picked him up and tossed him out—refusing to let him enter the space for a long time.

The farm barrier's expansion was complete after over forty hours—Ang's group had long returned to Shazhou.

The Minotaurs, barely released, were instantly drawn to the sea. After testing the water cautiously, they all dove in—they'd never seen so much water before; their wells only yielded water for half a day each day.

After the wind blew the water away, even when it stopped, it took half a day for the water to rise back to the well's mouth.

The water they drew was used to irrigate crops—leaving the Minotaurs severely water-starved. Seeing so much water, they nearly went mad with joy.

Luckily, the Sea People were watching—otherwise, several Minotaurs would've drowned.

The Sea People tended the seaweed; the Followers of the Goddess of Harvest tended the soilless rice; selected strongmen guarded the teleportation array—all ran smoothly.

After a period of teleportation, over sixty thousand of the Goddess of Harvest's followers had been transported—this pace was already extremely fast, given it was interdimensional.

Correspondingly, about sixty thousand tons of grain had been sent over—back and forth, the teleportation array never stopped. At this intensity, Lisa feared it might break.

This teleportation array wasn't like the World Transit Station—it had no auto-repair function. Input soul energy, and it restored itself automatically. Break it? No problem.

But they couldn't pause for maintenance—not yet. Andong needed grain to survive. They'd keep alternating: teleport people, then send grain, cooling each cycle.

A new group arrived. The priest Dakwen rushed forward to guide them out. As soon as they stepped from the array, a pale-faced middle-aged man suddenly collapsed to his knees.

Dakwen smiled: "Teleportation sickness? Come, come, drink some water first, take it easy. You're in the world of the Goddess of Harvest—here you'll find the most delicious—" Some get carsick, some seasick—naturally, some get teleportation-sick. Spatial shifts often cause dizziness, nausea, vomiting—all normal.

But before Dakwen finished speaking, the pale-faced man suddenly opened his mouth and spat out a pile of bright red matter, then collapsed backward—dead within moments.

When Ang and Negril arrived, Dakwen, pale-faced and trembling, stammered: "M… my lord, trouble. I suspect they've been infected by a new plague—many in this group already show symptoms."