Chapter 425: Silver Coins, Beating People

This was the first time the sapling had shown interest in anything… besides making others grow hair.

Ang quickly reached out to take the necklace, but the woman clutched it tightly, as if gripping a lifeline.

Oh, for food, Ang understood, reached for his pocket, but Negril stopped him: "Don't scare her. You there, Jili."

Jili clutched her bag and tried to run, but Du Luo Ken's large hand landed on her shoulder.

"I knew this would happen—thankfully I roasted two big packs." Jili proudly pulled out a bundle of beef cakes, then clutched the bag tightly.

Jili fully learned from last time—she dumped all her luggage into her storage ring and carried only beef cakes on her person.

Ang had too many storage items—he could pull out seventeen or eighteen with one grab, from storage bags to storage rings, as long as the space wasn't unusually large.

He had plenty of materials too—he could just pull the materials over and let Du Luo Ken forge them on the spot.

With so few subordinates, he assigned one to each person—this extravagance left Luo Ke and Jili utterly stunned.

Jili's bag was stuffed with food, and her storage ring held some too—enough to last her a month if she got lost in the desert.

Ang shoved the entire bundle of beef cakes into the woman's arms, taking her necklace in exchange.

Shoving such a large bundle into the woman's arms left her dazed—what was the most valuable thing in Jiuliu Fortress right now? Food, of course.

She'd thought she'd be lucky to get two or three cakes—this whole bundle would last her half a month if she rationed it—this was… life-saving.

The woman shuddered, sharply turned around—and saw the dozens of half-dead people sprawled nearby now rising up, eyes glowing green, fixed on her bundle.

Though she couldn't see inside, the greasy stains on the wrapping and the faint, lingering scent of wheat left no doubt—it was food.

The woman immediately shoved the bundle back into Ang's hands and pleaded: "Wait just a moment."

Then she sprinted back—moments ago she'd been barely able to move, now she darted like a rabbit.

The woman ran back and pulled two children from the crowd—a boy and a girl, around five or six years old.

A gaunt man nearby grabbed the girl's leg, unwilling to let go—human emotion turned wild in such conditions: I'm starving to death, and you got food but won't share?

Better to deny you an advantage than let you gain one—that was the gaunt man's mindset.

The woman yanked hard, but couldn't pull free—the girl whimpered, already too weak even to cry properly.

The woman grew furious—but something worse happened: the gaunt man's action alerted others. Several nearby figures rose, eyes glowing green, reaching for the children.

They likely thought: You got food—we'll take your kids, you trade food for them.

Hunger turned these once-ordinary people cruel and vicious.

Ang tilted his head and snapped his fingers—two wraiths shot out from his hand.

At first, the wraiths were just two drops of smoke, but within five meters they swelled into towering, muscular wraiths, crawling on all fours with blazing red eyes.

Ang still remembered Negril's instruction to pose as a necromancer—otherwise he'd have cast Holy Word now, binding those bastards with Chains of Original Sin.

Yet even so, Negril couldn't help covering his face: "Control yourself, I told you to control yourself—sixth-rank Wraith Stalker? You just flicked your finger and unleashed it? Do you want to scare people to death? Wait—how are you casting a sixth-rank spell?"

Ang tilted his head, bewildered.

Du Luo Ken guessed the reason: "Because Wraith Stalkers are wraiths by nature, not magic. As the God of the Undead, summoning a wraith is effortless for you—it's not magic, it's a Saint's invocation."

The wraiths crawled to the woman's side, each clawing the gaunt man's face—he let out a piercing scream, his grip on the girl instantly loosening.

The wraiths shoved the "things" they'd torn off into their mouths, red eyes scanning the crowd—others scattered in terror.

The woman grabbed the two children and rushed back to Ang, took the beef cakes, fumbled open the bundle, shoved one into each child's hand, grabbed one for herself, and devoured it ravenously.

They ate too fast—everyone choked. Negril promptly handed over a water bag: "Don't rush, eat slowly. By the way, what happened in Jiuliu Fortress? How did it become like this?"

The woman gratefully accepted the water bag, feeding the children as she spoke: "For the past two months, the Bone Guards who kept order vanished. Two days ago, the city suddenly caught fire, then fighting broke out—no one came to put out the flames. We fled, didn't bring food or water, and can't return to the city—so we ended up like this."

The woman's account was still too brief—the reality was likely far worse.

When Jili fled to the Desert Town two months ago, she'd already said many places along the way had collapsed into chaos—robberies, murders, kidnappings, brawls were rampant; some farmlands had been burned to the ground.

In more precise terms, it was anarchy—the undead creatures maintaining order had all ceased functioning overnight. Without masters to command them, they lay inert in graveyards.

Some areas had another force maintaining order besides the undead, but where no such force existed, the system would continue operating for a while—until it encountered an obstacle, then collapse rapidly.

Jiuliu Fortress was exactly this case.

The obstacle that shattered Jiuliu Fortress was food. Cities built on mountains like this aren't food producers—like Beifeng City, most food must be imported.

As order collapsed, imported food plummeted, prices doubled—and even at double price, there was no supply.

Silver Coin had long ago said: the House of the Departed was flooded with requests to buy food.

Under these conditions, food became the most vital resource. Jiuliu Fortress's urban guard, originally meant to maintain order, had been recruited from thugs and ruffians. With no restraint, they turned their eyes to the city's granaries.

They set fires, looted, stormed the granaries—but were crushed by the granary guards. The survivors then targeted nobles and merchants: if they could break in, they did; if not, they switched targets.

Noble and merchant estates had too many guards—few succeeded. So the middle-class families became the main victims.

This woman hid a fine piece of jewelry—clearly not commoner's gear—she was a person of means, precisely the kind targeted. Had she not fled early, she might have lost her life at home.

After understanding what had happened, Du Luo Ken and Silver Coin exchanged glances. Under these conditions, vegetables couldn't be sold—what now?

Ang didn't care what they'd do—he was huddled with the little angel and little zombie, knees drawn up, the sapling in the center, the necklace hanging from its body.

Ya—ya—ya—the sapling emitted meaningless sounds, extending its true leaf to touch the necklace's gem.

The emerald within the gem began to flow, traveling up the leaf into the sapling's body.

Chang—ya—chang—ya—the sapling waved its leaves, emitting excited signals. Soon, a tiny bud sprouted atop its head.

Ang reached out to poke it—the sapling instantly covered the bud: Bu—ya—bu—ya—

Don't let him poke? Ang tilted his head: "What is it?"

Ya—ya—ya—the sapling either answered or just shouted.

Ang nodded, as if he understood.

This wild, abstract exchange left Negril baffled: "You understood? What did it say?"

Ang picked up the necklace: "Want this. More."

The necklace's gem now held no trace of emerald—only a dull crystal remained.

"Pfft… are you guessing? Or did it really say that? It wasn't language—it was pure information. I don't believe you understood." Negril protested.

Even he, the God of Knowledge, couldn't decipher the sapling's "ya-ya-ya"—how could Ang?

Ang tilted his head: "Guessing."

"... Your guess makes perfect sense. I guessed the same thing…"

The sapling rarely requested anything—when it actively wanted a gem, absorbed its emerald, and sprouted a bud—everyone knew to find more for it. Wasn't that obvious?

Then why did Ang saying it so confidently feel so infuriating?

Negril asked the woman about the gem's origin. She replied: "My lord, this is a specialty of the nearby mountain range—called Life Gem."

"A local specialty? That's troublesome—things are so chaotic here." Negril muttered.

At this moment, having finished discussing with Du Luo Ken, Silver Coin approached: "My lord, we may need to consider taking Jiuliu Fortress."

Du Luo Ken said: "Jiuliu Fortress controls the end of this valley. If it falls, the bridge we're building on the other side becomes meaningless. But to hold it, we must aid these refugees—requiring massive amounts of food."

"Jiuliu Fortress has over ten thousand people—daily food consumption isn't small. We need to think…" Silver Coin hesitated.

But before he finished, Ang shifted his back and pulled out a bag of elf beans—"Take it."

Ten thousand people sounds like a lot—but one meal per day needs only ten thousand beans. One bag, twenty jin, holds at least thirty thousand beans—enough for the whole city to eat for three days.

Silver Coin hesitated: "But this exposes elf beans as a secret. Such a strategic resource, if revealed, will attract greed."

Even when in the elves' hands, elf beans were constantly targeted—if they hadn't been too powerful, people would've stolen them all, enslaved the elves, and forced them to farm.

Ang thought, grabbed the bag of elf beans, and squeezed it hard—soon, the beans turned to powder.

Ang opened his divine domain, summoned wind tornadoes, pulverized a patch of beet leaves, tossed in the elf bean powder, stirred it all together—soon, a mixture of bean-dust and veggie-mash formed, which he shaped into balls—each became a veggie dumpling.

"Good idea—if we add flour, they'd be vegetable cakes," Negril said.

Everyone pitched in, rolling dumplings enthusiastically—but Du Luo Ken was fastest: his Golden Rod tapped, tapped, tapped—perfectly round, uniform dumplings appeared.

"We have food—but how do we distribute it? We don't have enough hands," Negril stared at the pile of dumplings, troubled.

"Watch me," Silver Coin said confidently, scooped them into bags, and returned to the mountain path.

He pulled out a dumpling, raised it, and shouted to the starving refugees: "Hiring! Men, women, children—all welcome! Full meals provided!"

Instantly, the listless refugees surged forward, suddenly full of energy.

"One each, one each—no pushing! Strong, fit men step forward first—help me maintain order." In chaos, order was paramount—force must be secured first.

So while he said "one each," Silver Coin gave two to the strong men—they paused, immediately sensing the special treatment, their motivation soaring.

"Quick, agile ones—step forward. This bag is yours—distribute one each. Those who get one, push others back—no extra takes." By delegating distribution, Silver Coin could oversee everything and speed up efficiency.

"From now on, women and children first. Anyone who fights gets publicly shamed." Once order was established, the vulnerable could be prioritized—under abundant supplies, favoring the weak reassured everyone.

Silver Coin once again demonstrated his extraordinary organizational skill, arranging the refugees with precision.

The relief effort proceeded smoothly: several distributors, protected by a dozen strong adult men, moved along the mountain path, Jili and Luo Ke transporting dumplings.

Refugees ate in orderly fashion; most wept with gratitude. Some, overly emotional, knelt and bowed their heads to Silver Coin, thanking him for saving their lives.

Silver Coin dared not accept such worship—whenever someone bowed, he said: "Thank the Lord Ang for the food."

Even without Silver Coin's words, the moment someone ate the dumpling, Ang felt an endless stream of soul-flame flowing toward him—the ability of the God of Cultivation: anyone who consumed what he grew would offer power to him.

This power was generated in this world, without the attenuation from the Prime Plane—it could power the Speed Death Halo Stone.

Beyond that, it could only replenish soul energy or form soul crystals, since Ang couldn't use any divine techniques now.

At that moment, Ang suddenly sensed something and sprinted forward.

Negril hurried after him, asking: "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Silver Coin, hitting someone." Ang said.