Chapter 382: Secretly Mastering the Ultimate Sowing Technique

After releasing the Water God, Ang continuously cast the Pollination Spell, whipping up a tornado.

The Pollination Spell is a very low-level wind magic; if magic had a rating of zero point something, Pollination Spell would be around zero point one, consuming less than one-tenth the mana of a level-one spell.

So Ang could cast it hundreds of times per second, pollinating hundreds of thousands of crops across thousands of acres in a short time.

Yet Pollination Spell is also a magic that can infinitely amplify—if each casting keeps the center point perfectly aligned, it can churn like stirring a vat of water, making the tornado grow larger and larger until the entire sky and earth cannot contain it.

But this is not easy to do. Keeping the center point consistent sounds simple, but even if Duni were to do it, once or twice is fine, a hundred or a thousand times is fine—could he maintain perfect alignment for hours? Would his eyes not blur, his hands not ache, his legs not weaken?

Ang could.

The tornado grew larger and taller, piercing heaven and earth; along the vortex centered on the fixed point, vast amounts of moisture from the clouds were sucked down.

Winds and clouds surged; the clouds above were pulled away, and winds from all directions rushed in swiftly to fill the void, only to be sucked down again—the moisture and humidity at the tornado's base skyrocketed.

Under these conditions, even low-level water magic could achieve effects beyond its rank. Ang could have used his mind to cast Rain Spell simultaneously, but wasn't there a Water God?

"What? You want me to condense water? Turn all this moisture into droplets?" Thom heard Ang's request and stared in disbelief, thinking he'd misheard.

Ang nodded, urging: "Hurry."

"But I'm the Water God—Thom, the Water 'God'." Thom couldn't believe it, emphasizing his identity.

Others had already arrived one after another, including Negrilis, who rolled his eyes: "Fine, I'm the 'God' of Knowledge, this one is the Redeemer 'Goddess'…"

As he spoke, Negrilis gestured toward the Redeemer Goddess, who, with wide eyes and a sweet expression, pulled out a tiny hammer and raised it menacingly.

Negrilis was speechless: "Just be cute already—you don't need to act tough. You're not scary at all, Shamarah, Shamarah."

Shamarah spread her wings, black sacred flames surging from her body, glaring fiercely at Thom, looking terrifying.

Thom wasn't afraid—fallen power had no effect on him, and saltwater was more threatening. He was about to mock back when Ang slapped him on the head: "Hurry."

"Oh." Thom obediently turned into mist; soon, thick fog spread everywhere, soaking the earth and forming small streams that flowed away into the distance.

Though reluctant, what could he do—his soul was in Ang's hands? He simply couldn't believe it: the mighty Water God reduced to doing this kind of work?

But the Redeemer Goddess used cuteness to charm, the Fallen Angel used terror to intimidate—so why not let him condense water?

The condensed moisture was pure, far purer than holy water, and wouldn't dirty him. Fine, fine, let's get to work.

Thom called himself the Water God, but in truth, he belonged to the category of elemental beings—he had no divine essence, and his water manipulation was innate, requiring no effort; no matter how much moisture was drawn down, he could condense it into mist in an instant.

Mist coalesced into droplets, droplets into streams, streams into small rivers—the desert was flooded.

Winds and clouds churned, heaven and earth changed; above Ang, a patch of sky became unnaturally clear and cloudless, while endless dark clouds surged from all directions.

The clouds didn't rush straight in—they spiraled, swirling around the edges until, viewed from high above, a colossal vortex was taking shape.

Among those present, Duni was the most skilled in wind magic, nicknamed "Typhoon Duni," yet now he was stunned: "Can such a low-level spell really trigger weather phenomena? Are you joking?"

Negrilis asked curiously: "Can you do it?"

"I couldn't even dream of doing it! To build a low-pressure trough this size, I'd need a full mage battalion or ten thousand magic crystals smashed into the ground—and no, no, this isn't even a low-pressure trough anymore—it's a low-pressure vortex!" Duni exclaimed in frustration.

He'd never imagined a zero-point-something-scale vortex could trigger such weather—but seeing Ang's impossibly rapid casting speed, it suddenly made sense—after all, that casting speed was monstrous.

As water accumulated on the ground, soaking the earth, everyone exchanged glances and asked: "What do we do? Just watch? Can we help?"

Negrilis spread his hands: "I don't know what to do—I don't even know what Ang is planning."

Ang heard him, flipped out a pile of seeds: "Sow."

Then he turned to Thom: "Mist."

Thom took a moment to understand—Ang wanted him to keep the moisture as mist, not condense it into water, so the spread would be wider; if turned to water, it would flow across the desert and quickly seep into the sand—even a flood wouldn't cover much ground.

The drawn moisture turned to mist and dispersed, moistening half the desert.

Negrilis poked holes in the bottom of a sack, then flew off with it, seeds continuously spilling out.

Duni compressed an air bubble, wrapped a sack of seeds in it, and flew far away—then exploded it, scattering the seeds evenly across a wide area with the blast.

The Archmage summoned a hearse, loaded a cart of seeds onto it, and sped off; countless undead hands tore open the sacks, scattering the seeds evenly.

The Redeemer Goddess hitched up her skirt, grabbed a handful of seeds, found a nearby patch of ground, and poked tiny holes with her fingers, carefully planting each seed one by one.

Luna couldn't help emerging from Shamarah's body to sneer: "Planting like that, tomorrow you'll have seeds covering your entire table."

The Redeemer Goddess looked up, rolled her eyes, then smiled.

"Hmph." Luna scoffed, waved her hand, and sack after sack of seeds flew up, piling onto her back like a small mountain—more than even the strongest dock laborer could carry.

Even with that load, she still flew off toward another direction where no seeds had been sown.

After flying a distance, she flared her wings, shattering two sacks—the seeds inside sprayed out evenly.

After flying farther, two more sacks slipped off, and with another wingbeat, they scattered seeds evenly.

Du Luo swung his Rod of Gold: "I'll show you a magic trick."

The sacks sprouted wings and flew off, arriving at their designated spots, opening themselves and pouring out their contents—as if the sacks had grown legs and could sow themselves.

Negrilis stared in disbelief—he realized he was the slowest sower, and cursed: "Damn it, none of you have ever farmed before, yet you've all quietly mastered the ultimate sowing technique—you're hypocrites!!"

Night fell; without sunlight to evaporate it, the mist spread farther and farther—within a hundred kilometers, humidity rose to the point where you could squeeze water from the air; the ground was thoroughly soaked, and seeds landing on it slowly awakened.

In the night sky, where the red star had vanished, a speck of white light appeared—it had come.

Ang armored himself, then lifted his right foot and slammed it hard onto his own chest, leaving a clear footprint on his soul armor.

No normal person could make such a movement—but who was he? A skeleton? He could remove his foot and press it against his face if he wanted.

The Death Speed Aura erupted from Ang; scales surged over his body, transforming him into a colossal dragon whose scales shimmered with radiant light—Ang had manifested this form before in his mind: the true body of the Dragon God.

BOOM! An invisible force struck the ground; most felt nothing, but the Redeemer Goddess and Shamarah's bodies erupted in divine flame, struck as if by a massive blow, collapsing to their knees and slowly crumbling into ash.

PS: I've been taking medicine lately and get sleepy easily—sometimes I oversleep. Apologies for the inconsistent updates.