Chapter 362: Those Who Hold the Record Aren't Known

Surrounded by several god-tier experts, the two insect handlers couldn't even squeak before being dragged back.

After severe interrogation, torture, and soul-searching, everyone clarified the situation.

"Good, good—the saltwater insects were bred by them, and haven't spread yet." Negril sighed in relief.

"We can't slack off. If they can breed saltwater insects, other insect handlers probably can too. We need a solution—at least early warning. If these insects multiply in the sea and surge ashore all at once, no place can withstand it." Dironi said with concern.

A wave of four-eyed flying fish attacks triggered the highest alert level at Starfall Academy; though no damage occurred due to Ang, it raised Dironi's vigilance.

The Starfall Republic sits right by the sea with no strategic depth. If his scenario becomes reality, this is the most vulnerable place.

The more he thought, the more uneasy he became. Dironi said: "No good—I'll summon a Planar Meeting to inform everyone."

Auberny replied: "Dawn is coming—the Seed Festival starts soon. When will you find time for a meeting? And don't others need sleep? The insects are all cleared anyway. Wait until the Seed Festival ends in three days to report—it's not late."

Dironi shook his head: "No. These insects reproduce fast. From the situation in Black Mountain Principality, their numbers can multiply tens of thousands overnight. Everyone must prepare in advance."

"But the Seed Festival starts immediately. If you summon a meeting, get responses, confirm the agenda, schedule a link-up, a whole day will pass. If someone's unavailable and it drags to tomorrow, what about the Seed Festival? You need to preside over it." Auberny said.

Among the Starfall Trio, Dironi is the one who handles external affairs. Without him presiding, the Seed Festival cannot proceed.

But if we hold a security meeting after the Seed Festival, it'll be at least four or five days later. From the Black Mountain Principality example, insect numbers can explode tens of thousands overnight. If anything changes during this time, reporting will be too late.

As they argued, Negril smiled and raised his hand: "I happen to need to notify my great-nephew. Why not join me?"

"Great-nephew? Who's your great-nephew?" Dironi asked.

"Brucek."

"Oh—so he's the Dragon elder. My apologies." Dironi bowed respectfully.

"But notifying only Elder Brucek isn't enough. Others must be informed too." Dironi added.

"No problem. I have their private contact links." Negril pulled Ang to the teleportation array, contacted Anthony, Brucek, and Gellard one by one, then had Anthony bring in Dai Sen and Copper Hammer. A six-party meeting began in under half an hour.

Watching the setup—identical to the Planar Security Meeting, just missing Gulliani—Dironi was stunned: "Is this… your family's security meeting?"

The Planar Security Meeting uses a public channel requiring formal procedures. This was private coordination—no hassle, and everyone was soon chatting.

Dironi reported the situation and voiced his concerns. Once everyone imagined the terrifying scenario, they grew serious.

The elves had suffered from insects before, so they were especially urgent. But by dawn, no good solution emerged.

"Everyone must stay alert. Especially Brucek—please send patrols across the ocean. If you spot anything unusual, notify us immediately. Insects can live in water, but insect handlers can't live in water. Target the handlers—never let them grow stronger." Dironi said.

Anthony added: "Soon, I and Dai Sen will issue a joint announcement: classify insect handlers as heretics. Give them a deadline to surrender—or be burned alive upon capture."

"The elves can assist. Contact Lord Ang if you need anything." Gellard said.

Upon hearing this, everyone except Anthony froze. Dironi and Auberny involuntarily glanced at Ang.

The elves offered help—but told them to contact Ang? What did that mean?

It meant Ang could make decisions for the elves. For proud elves, letting a "human" decide for them was unthinkable.

The meeting ended as dawn broke. Dironi and Auberny floated away without touching the ground.

The Seed Festival's climax begins at noon on the third day. The first two and a half days feature various contests, duels, and competitions—wildly lively.

But Ang wasn't interested. He retreated to the Palace of Rest to study the new changes in the two insect deities.

After consuming vast quantities of insects, Hemer and Ma Disi underwent strange transformations—growing stronger.

Previously, gorging made them fat. But this time, eating only meat made them lean and powerful.

Hemer became a powerful "horse," its limbs and muscles as formidable as the strongest nightmare.

Its surface had a metallic sheen. Touching it revealed it wasn't skin, but tightly packed scales—extremely tough.

Its defense became absurdly high. Lu Se nearly couldn't cut through it with his Arbiter Sword. Even when he finally managed a cut, Hemer shook himself—scales stood up, and the blade couldn't cut again.

But the raised scales weren't for defense—they released smoke. This smoke was potent liquefied insect ash, possessing all the effects of insect ash, plus "infection."

Where the smoke fell, barren land rapidly soaked through, turning into oily, fertile soil.

This transformation was continuous. After infection, the soil grew richer day by day: on day one, pinching it released water; by day three, it oozed oil.

"Can it continuously improve soil? So miraculous?" Negril exclaimed.

Yes, incredibly miraculous. Ang immediately yoked it—now it would pull the plow.

As it walked, it sprayed smoke, infecting the soil while turning it—two benefits at once.

"... knew you'd do this. It's a god-insect! Couldn't you use it for something else?" Negril was speechless.

Ang shook his head.

On the third morning, Auberny finally slipped away to check—only to find the Deadland behind the Death Star Tower had been tilled.

As a lich, the scent of death was essential, but Auberny dared not build a graveyard behind her house.

So she periodically visited grim graveyards, scraping up surface soil tainted with death Qixi, spreading it behind her house to "breathe" fresh death Qixi.

Long soaked in death's essence, the land behind her house was barren, gray, and lifeless—similar to the floor of the Resting Abyss.

After two days away, she found the Deadland gone. The soil, cultivated for centuries, now turned pitch-black, oily, and fertile—lush green weeds sprouted wildly.

"I swear—" Before Auberny could curse, Negril, prepared, handed her a vial of Death Essence Liquid.

Auberny opened it, sniffed, and immediately changed her tone: "This grass is beautiful."

A barren, gray Deadland—how convenient was a vial of Death Essence Liquid you could carry, sniff, and instantly feel invigorated, calm, and centered?

As she finished speaking, a sturdy "horse" dragged a plow past, turning over the emerald grass. After two and a half days of soaking, it was finally ready for sowing.

Tiny zombies and tiny angels followed behind, sowing seeds. Ang walked last, covering the soil and watering.

Before Auberny's stunned gaze, the grassland transformed into farmland.

Realizing she might die of rage if she stayed, Auberny tossed out: "The Seed Festival starts—make sure you've registered and prepare!" Then she ran off without looking back.

…

Ang's group arrived at the Seed Festival grounds—it was the same arena where the Magic Ball tournament had been held. Now, a massive simulated array had been built on the open ground.

The spectator stands were packed. Everyone waved various props wildly—some emitted loud noises, others flashes of light—wildly festive.

One section had spectators dressed uniformly, holding identical props, and unfurled banners reading: "Du Binqi Wins!"

Everyone stared, dazzled, awestruck: "So enthusiastic! So enthusiastic! These supporters are incredibly passionate!"

"Yes, yes—old Owl Du Binqi has this many passionate fans? What a blind eye—he's nowhere near as skilled as our lord!" Lu Se fumed.

In the Realm of Despair, Ang had brutally humiliated Du Binqi's group. Yet here at the Seed Festival, his popularity soared—no wonder his students dared boast about removing the "Spring Wind Cup" name.

"We can't let him win—it's bad for seed promotion. Ang, keep humiliating him." Negril clenched his fist.

A voice full of grit came from nearby: "So it's you! Good! Finally caught you bastards!"

Turning, they saw Du Binqi's student who turned into a bear—the Bear Student.

Ang's group hadn't concealed themselves, especially Huang Tong—their embryonic dragon form was too unique. Even from afar, it was instantly recognizable.

Just thinking of humiliating them, and here they came. Negril was delighted, waving his tiny claw: "Good day, Bear Child."

The Bear Student exploded with rage. What did that mean? So cheerful? Did they look down on him?

Scanning the crowd, he realized no one here could beat him. He gritted his teeth and spat: "You're the Bear Child! Your whole family's Bear Children! Wait! I'll get my teacher! You escaped us in the Realm of Despair—where will you run now?"

"Run? When did we run? Didn't you run first?" Negril was puzzled. Back in the Realm of Despair, it was Du Binqi who fled overnight.

It didn't know that later, Du Binqi and others had returned—by then, they were already back in the Holy Heaven.

But the Bear Student had already run off—clearly to fetch help.

This area was the contestant zone. Everyone here knew Du Binqi's students—but not Ang's group.

One elderly contestant, resembling a farmer, kindly warned: "What did you do to them? Oh dear—you're in trouble."

"Oh? Who are they? Why trouble?" Negril feigned curiosity.

"You don't know him? Then you're really in trouble." Another elderly contestant, also farmer-like, exclaimed.

"Famous? Why should I know them? You don't even know me." Negril crossed his arms defiantly.

The two elderly contestants chuckled—completely unaware whom they were chuckling at.

One said: "He's the current Seed Festival record holder—Master Du Binqi's student. You're entering the Seed Festival and don't even know the record holder? How did you offend him?"

Negril replied honestly: "Last time, we beat them in a seed-growing contest. Losers—we didn't even bother remembering their names. Didn't expect them to hold a grudge."

The two elderly contestants smiled warmly, their faces saying, "You're so cute lying like that," then chuckled and walked away.

"... ven telling the truth isn't believed." Negril sighed sadly. What a shame—no chance to show off…

Soon, the Bear Student returned with Du Binqi. Negril waved his claw from afar to greet them—but Du Binqi didn't respond. He merely glared coldly at Negril, then turned and walked away.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Dozens of explosive flames shot into the sky, detonating into fiery spheres with thunderous roars—the Seed Festival officially began.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Using explosive flames as fireworks? So flashy." Lu Se mocked.

"No wonder Starfall Magic Academy—so many mages." Negril said.

Boom! A louder explosion. Simultaneously, a blinding flash lit the arena's center. A booming voice echoed throughout: "A thunderclap in the sky—the star shines bright! Your friend, Star Lei Ting, is back! Miss me?"

The light faded. In the center stood a lightning elemental composed of radiant light and electric sparks.

Lightning instantly formed a horse's head, eyes bulging: "That's Lei Ting? That giant squirrel?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, good afternoon! The biennial Seed Festival begins again. Grain is the fuel of life. Without grain, the flame of life cannot burn. Lack of grain brings famine—death will descend upon humanity."

"This year is a year of disaster, a year of suffering, a year of sorrow. In this tragic calamity, grain's importance shines brighter. If our grain yields rise year after year, famine will vanish forever."

"The Seed Festival is the stage for our master farmers to display their power. They bring us higher-yield seeds, giving us stronger weapons against famine. Now, please welcome today's stars—let the Seed Festival begin!"

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