Chapter 293: Harvey Wants to Cheat

The undead were fully armed and ready, but the Sage remained nowhere to be seen, so Harvey quickly summoned a wise subordinate and asked: "Where's the Sage?"

"He's busy harvesting," the subordinate replied.

"Harvesting? It's been Eternal Night already—haven't you finished yet? Did he go off to play somewhere?" Harvey muttered.

Only when he found the Sage did he understand why the harvest wasn't done—it was far too much to gather.

"What's going on? Why so much grain? Did you go out and capture people to farm? Planting this much? Didn't you always oppose enslaving living beings? When did you change your mind?" Harvey asked, baffled.

"What nonsense? No, it's the same as before—just planted the usual way. But this is called organizational optimization, specialized roles, accountable officers, and incentives for extra output, and all that complicated stuff. Anyway, the living beings were incredibly enthusiastic, and before we knew it, we planted too much. You're just in time."

Harvey was stunned. What do you mean I'm just in time?

"Come on, help me harvest this field—the dew hasn't formed yet. If it does and the rice gets soaked, all our months of work will be wasted," the Sage said, pointing to the endless field before them.

Harvey widened his eyes… oh, he had no eyes—he nearly cracked his eye sockets, pointing at his own nostrils in shock: "Me? Harvest rice?"

"Yes, only you can harvest all the rice before dew forms. Go quickly," the Sage urged.

"I, the Undying King, Lord of the Dead, the Purple-Gold Skull Harvey—you want me to harvest rice? You—" Harvey fumed.

The Sage narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint flashing within: "I haven't slept in five months, running back and forth, exhausting myself to grow this. If the dew forms, all my effort is wasted. If you let my effort go to waste, I'll make sure you never rest."

Harvey shuddered, immediately pounding his ribs: "No problem! I've got it covered! Harvesting rice? Easy!"

But barely had he spoken when he complained: "But even if I go harvest, I can't possibly finish all this rice before dew forms—I don't know any magic."

"No, Silvercoin says you can. Silvercoin, Silvercoin, come here—teach Harvey how to harvest. Hurry up, the dew's coming. If it forms, the rice will rot. We have no way to dry it—pile it up for a month and it'll sprout. Quickly harvest it and carry it to the caves, let the airflow dry it."

A goblin sprinted over, removed his hat, and politely greeted: "Greetings, Lord Harvey."

Harvey glared angrily at him: "It's you, this goblin, who claimed I can harvest rice, right?"

Silvercoin waved his hands frantically: "No no no, I didn't say you could harvest rice—I said only the most powerful skull could harvest this much rice in a short time. Are you the most powerful skull here?"

Huh? That sounded nice. The most powerful skull? Who else could it be but me?

Harvey pounded his ribs: "Correct. I am the most powerful skull here. Tell me—how do I harvest this much rice quickly?"

"Oh, well, I've seen skulls run through ditches, holding their Death Scythes upside down—and the rice just falls. Do you have a Death Scythe?" Silvercoin asked, innocently.

Anyone unfamiliar with old Silvercoin might easily be fooled by his expression. Harvey laughed: "I don't just have a Death Scythe—I have a Mourning-grade one."

Harvey reached out, and a massive scythe appeared in his grasp.

"How do you hold it? Upside down—how? Can I send my Gold Skulls to harvest? They have Death Scythes too," Harvey asked.

Before Silvercoin could answer, the Sage urgently spoke: "Don't let those idiot bones step into my field. If they harvest, they'll trample more than they cut. Wait until I train them properly for next season. For now, just help me harvest—hurry, there's no time!"

Harvey sighed helplessly, gripped the scythe upside down, and sprinted into the field. As he ran, row after row of rice fell behind him.

Some intelligent undead stood frozen at the field's edge, watching their king stumble through mud and water, vanishing into the distance.

There was no choice. Though Harvey's rank was higher than the Sage's, the Sage was the Sage—he managed the entire Fallen Lands, while Harvey only knew how to slash, kill, and sleep. If the Sage quit, the entire Fallen Lands would collapse.

Besides, the Sage was annoying. If his hard work went to waste, Harvey wouldn't sleep a single night during the next Eternal Night—he'd mutter and murmur endlessly, and Harvey couldn't even find where he was.

Compared to that, what did his royal image matter? Even if he had to plant seedlings, he'd do it.

Silvercoin was right—the Death Scythe in Harvey's hands was a perfect harvesting tool. He ran like the wind, never crushing a single stalk, yet cutting every plant in neat rows.

The Sage directed the Gold Skulls standing at the field's edge to go gather the harvested crops. They couldn't harvest well, but carrying heavy bundles? They could handle that.

A group of undead originally preparing for war were herded into the fields, stumbling through mud and water.

The harvest progressed rapidly—less than half an hour, Harvey finished.

Carrying the bundles was even faster. As soon as Harvey finished, everyone grabbed the bundles and carried them off.

Tens of thousands of skeletons and zombies each carried several bundles of rice to the central mountains, passing them up to be stuffed into ventilated caves.

Even during Eternal Night, the wind here never ceased, slowly drying all the rice.

"What's going on? You still haven't explained how you grew so much grain. This much food could feed hundreds of thousands. Are there really that many living beings here now?" Harvey shook the mud off his feet and asked.

"Heh, ask Silvercoin," the Sage said, gazing at the mountain of grain, his face glowing with harvest joy—he was too happy to even speak, just grinning foolishly.

Harvey turned his gaze to Silvercoin, who hurried forward, bowed, and explained: "The production methods here are primitive. The organizational capacity is too weak to fully mobilize workers' enthusiasm or leverage advantages to improve efficiency. I restructured everything—and productivity exploded."

Harvey stood frozen for a long while before replying: "I understand every word you said, but together, I have no idea what you mean. Give me some examples."

Silvercoin rubbed his hands: "For example, mobilizing worker enthusiasm. Before, people here only planted enough to feed themselves—they never opened new farmland, mainly because of war, seed shortages, Eternal Night, and food processing issues."

"So I suggested: give the newly reclaimed land to whoever reclaims it. More labor, more harvest. We supply the seeds, buy back the harvest, help process it, and just take a small handling fee and loss allowance."

"As a result, everyone's enthusiasm soared. They worked day and night. Due to seasonal constraints, many newly reclaimed fields weren't used this season—but next season, grain production will increase even more."

Harvey understood, then asked: "Are the seeds new varieties? And what do you mean by food processing?"

"Oh yes, those are the new varieties cultivated by Our Lord—mature in four months, yield per mu… uh, we haven't finished counting yet, but roughly four to five hundred jin. Though it's a bit low…"

Before he finished, the Sage interrupted: "Nonsense! Four to five hundred jin per mu? How can that be low? Our old seeds yielded barely over a hundred jin per mu! Five times higher! Five times! Is that still low?"

Silvercoin shrank his neck and muttered quietly: "For Our Lord Ang, anything under a thousand jin is low."

But given the natural limitations of this realm, four to five hundred jin per mu was acceptable, so Silvercoin didn't dwell on it and continued: "As for food processing, it means husking, grinding into flour, baking, and adding ingredients."

"Farmers husking and grinding themselves waste too much and waste too much time. Sometimes after hours of work, they still don't have enough to cook one meal for their family. So I suggested using natural wind, water, and bone power to centralize husking and grinding—save them the trouble," Silvercoin said.

"Bone power?" Harvey blinked, puzzled. After a moment, he realized—could it mean skeletons? Bone power?

"Is that meaningful? Let skeletons grind and work for free for those people?" Harvey asked, displeased.

"How could that be!" Silvercoin cried out instinctively, as if insulted: "I, Silvercoin, would never work for free?! You—"

The Sage immediately floated over, grabbing Silvercoin's shoulder to soothe him: "Don't be angry, don't be angry. Harvey doesn't understand the details. Don't take it personally."

??? Harvey was utterly confused. Had he said something wrong? Even if he had, how dare this tiny goblin get angry? And why was the Sage comforting him? Damn it—didn't he fear Harvey would extract and refine his soul?

Harvey remembered: this goblin never showed fear. He greeted Harvey naturally, without the panic normal living beings displayed around skeletons.

Realizing this, Harvey couldn't help asking: "Aren't you afraid of me?"

Silvercoin paused slightly, then said: "Under Our Lord's protection, I fear no one."

Harvey's eyes widened: "Are you from the Church of Light? No—you don't carry that annoying aura."

The Church of Light's divine practitioners were steeped in holy light, naturally emitting an aura repulsive to undead beings—even from dozens of paces away, you could smell it.

"Ah? No no, I'm a Lich," Silvercoin quickly said.

"What? You're a Lich?" Harvey was stunned, immediately scanning with his mind.

Under the Mourning Skull's mental scan, Silvercoin's condition was laid bare.

Why hadn't Harvey scanned Silvercoin's state earlier? Because Silvercoin was the Sage's subordinate. The basic etiquette of the Undying Empire was never to scan others with one's mind—it was like lifting someone's skirt.

But under these circumstances, Harvey didn't care about skirts anymore. A Lich? Why did he look so… alive?

The scan confirmed it—he was truly a Lich. It was incredible.

"Why are you so alive?" Harvey poked Silvercoin's flesh, incredulous.

"It's the power of Our Lord," Silvercoin said proudly.

"Your god can make a Lich alive? Who is your god?" Harvey asked.

"Our Lord—the Undying God," Silvercoin said.

"Pfft…" Harvey burst out laughing. Even the Sage couldn't help chuckling.

The Undying God was the King's divine title. But Kings already possessed the Soul Network—a power higher than faith—so they rarely used the Undying God title, letting it develop naturally.

The Undying Temple sent out a few priests, mostly Silver Skulls. Think about it—dull-witted Silver Skulls? How could they attract followers? So the Undying God's divine power had always been invisible.

But even if invisible, it was still the King's domain. Who was this random nobody, just popping up out of nowhere, claiming to be the Undying God?

If the Church of Light's extremists heard someone claim to be the God of Light, they'd tear them apart on the spot. But Harvey and the Sage weren't that extreme—they just burst into laughter:

"The Undying God? That's perfect. Look at my hands—this is the Flame of Many Believers. If your master is truly the Undying God, he must know me. Have him remove these flames. If he can, then I'll believe he's the Undying God."

The Sage also chuckled: "Silvercoin, you may not know—the title of Undying God belongs to the Undying King, our former monarch. To claim that title is like a false god sneaking into the true god's temple. Don't let yourself be deceived."

Silvercoin blinked, then smiled, a glint of gold flashing in his eyes: "Wait a moment—I'll ask first. Oh, Lord Harvey, if Our Lord can remove your Flame of Many Believers, what reward will you offer?"

"Heh, of course, I'll pledge allegiance to him—the Undying God!" Harvey laughed.

Silvercoin smiled: "Lord Harvey, don't joke. I'll contact Our Lord first. You think about what reward you can offer."

Silvercoin walked aside, closed his eyes, and called out to Ang.

Harvey stood stunned for a long while before snapping back to reality. How dare he speak to it like that? And tell it to "think about" what reward to offer?

Stirred by this thought, Harvey unconsciously followed the line of reasoning—and the more he thought, the more shocked he became. Was he really this poor?

"Sage, besides these bones, I really don't have anything to offer as a reward," Harvey whispered.

The Sage snorted: "You're just realizing that? Your chair is carved from stone."

Harvey scratched his head, his confidence fading: "Then what do I offer?"

"Why think so much? You don't actually believe some random nobody claiming to be the Undying God can remove your Flame of Many Believers? Just mock him a bit. But don't hurt Silvercoin—he's a top-tier talent. I need him for big things," the Sage said.

Harvey suddenly understood: "Right. Then I'll offer the Soul Thunder Eye that Lord Locke gave me. He can't take it back anyway."

"You mean the Soul Thunder Eye goggles? The soul artifact embedded in your eye sockets that releases Soul Thunder? You have it?" the Sage exclaimed.

"Yes," Harvey said proudly, pulling a lens from between his bones and slotting it into his eye sockets.

"It's a skull-specific lens. Lord Locke gave it to me so I could communicate with him. Too bad—it's useless now. No matter how I call, I get no response from Lord Locke."

The Sage sighed: "This artifact is too precious. Put it away."

"No need to worry—it can't be stolen. Let him remove my Flame of Many Believers first," Harvey scoffed. Who was this random nobody claiming to be the Undying God? He deserved a beating.

If the opponent failed to remove the Flame of Many Believers, Harvey wouldn't hold back—he'd dismantle him on the spot and see if Silvercoin abandoned his faith.

Silvercoin finished his connection and walked over: "Lord Harvey, Our Lord says he can remove it. Have you decided on a reward?"

Harvey pointed to his eye sockets: "This." He explained the lens's function.

"Oh, then expose your Flame of Many Believers and remove the lens," Silvercoin said.

Harvey adopted a "let's play along" attitude—he did exactly as Silvercoin said, so if it failed, Silvercoin couldn't blame him for lack of cooperation.

A presence flowed onto Silvercoin. The holy-light soul of Silvercoin emerged, dragging a sack from his body.

"Holy Light?!" Harvey and the Sage froze.

The Soul Coin reached out and snatched away the Fire of Belief in one grab—this flame that had burned Harvey for over four months was simply taken away by the Soul Coin?

The Soul Coin kept smiling and reached out again to grasp the monocle on Harvey's other hand.

"Alright, the Fire of Belief is gone—I'm here to collect my payment," the Coin exclaimed excitedly.

But as the Soul Coin's fingers touched the monocle, Harvey clenched his palm, gripping the monocle tightly.

The Coin's expression changed instantly. "Lord Harvey, you're not trying to renege, are you?"