Chapter 435: Anthony Is More Handy at This

Fine, Anthony's muttering got no response—the distance was too far, his soul-call couldn't reach Seeing Ange.

"Uh, how often does my lord come back? Is there any way to notify him to return?" Anthony went back to ask.

"Sure there is. Last time the little angel poked him in the ribs and he came right back—want to give it a try?" Lisa said.

Anthony shook his head like a rattle-drum—something the little angel could do, but he wouldn't dare. He'd just wait.

Idle and bored, Anthony asked Lisa again: "What are you all doing?"

"We're tidying up the place, seeing if we can grow something on the farm, then build a few warehouses to stockpile supplies. The teleportation array is finished—moving things is a lot easier now—but the air here dissipates way too fast, it's really thin. I'm wondering if there's some way to bind it down." Lisa described her work.

Anthony covered his face.

"What's wrong? Is there a problem? Did I arrange things wrong?" If anyone else had worn that expression, Lisa would have beaten them first to teach them how formidable Head Housekeeper Lisa was—but with that look from Anthony, Lisa couldn't help feeling a little guilty.

"No, no, no, it's great, my lord will definitely love it. Lisa, you really do think of everything for my lord—letting him happily farm whenever he wants. Though it'd be even better if you could add a little something." Anthony said.

"Add what?" Lisa asked.

Anthony deliberated for a moment, then said: "I don't know what the situation is on my lord's side right now, but judging by the feedback so far, there are only two possibilities: either my lord has secured his footing over there and needs us to go help, or my lord is under threat and has to retreat back, needing us to cover his withdrawal."

"If we need to go help, then we have to be ready to move out at any time. For example, if my lord comes back now, and we can be prepared within minutes to be taken over there, it might achieve a good result. If my lord is forced to retreat—whoever forced him back, do they have the ability to project themselves here at range? How do we cover my lord's withdrawal?"

Lisa listened, wide-eyed and slack-jawed—she hadn't thought along these lines at all. Even the Undead Sovereign had to abandon his body and project his consciousness over; what kind of person could project themselves here?

"Of course it's possible. You don't think the sorcerers who can whip up a Faith Storm are run-of-the-mill, do you? Their Annihilation Sorcerer trapped Your Majesty and a pile of high-ranking undead. And what if they project into Your Majesty's Black Crystal Body? How would we respond?" Anthony asked.

Lisa and the witch sages and others who had crowded over all involuntarily changed color—none of them had considered this question, but they had to admit, Anthony's worry was very reasonable.

Those sorcerers who could create a Faith Storm were certainly no ordinary lot; the Annihilation Sorcerer had even trapped the Undead Sovereign. Who could guarantee they didn't have the ability to project themselves here?

And the most ready-made channel was through the connection with the Black Crystal Body. What if a powerful consciousness really did project into the Black Crystal Body—fight or not fight? Could we even win? If we couldn't, was there any way to restrain it?

All these questions, no one had considered.

"Then what do we do?" Lisa asked blankly. She was a qualified housekeeper, but not a qualified commander—she didn't quite know what to do.

"Of course we build this place into a fortress that can advance to attack or retreat to defend. No matter what unexpected situation arises, we can handle it calmly. And if necessary, we can banish the Black Crystal Body into the depths of the void—even if a powerful consciousness projects over, it'll just get lost in the void." Anthony said.

The words had barely fallen when the witch loudly objected: "No, you can't treat Your Majesty's body like that."

"Witch, don't rush—this kind of thing has a very low chance of happening. And if it did, would you want the enemy's body to be occupied and used by the enemy?" Anthony asked.

The witch was momentarily at a loss for words. If the enemy really used Your Majesty's body to run amok, wouldn't Your Majesty be even angrier?

Anthony went on: "We can place some tracking things on Your Majesty's body. The opponent's consciousness projection won't last long—once they leave, we just retrieve the body. I don't know how to achieve this exactly; we might need to cooperate with the Star Academy and do some research."

Anthony went on with a few more plans, and Lisa's head began to swell. How was this 'adding a little something'? This was clearly overturning all of Lisa's arrangements.

As they chatted, Seeing Ange's body suddenly stirred.

He turned his head and at a glance saw Anthony surrounded in the middle by everyone. His eyes immediately lit up; he scurried over, transforming into Locke as he ran, grabbed Anthony, and shoved him forward hard.

Then he scurried back and pressed his palm onto the Black Crystal Body.

He came fast and left fast—in the field, only Anthony was missing.

……

The commotion below the wall had long since alerted the guards on top. Early in the morning people up there had been pointing and talking, but the wall was too tall—a full thirty or forty meters.

No way around it—this is the world of magic, walls are just that tall, and extra thick too, with all kinds of anti-magic and magic-blocking arrangements. Ordinary people wouldn't think of attacking a city that has walls.

For fortress strongholds the walls are even more outrageous—like Holy Wall City in the Sunken Lands, where the wall really is a mountain range.

At such a height, no one could hear what the people on the wall were pointing out about. But Silver Coin had figured out the psychology of those inside the city—it was nothing more than 'where did this idiot come from? Still daring to recruit people at a time like this? Can you even feed them? Drag them away, drag them all away, don't let them die at the foot of the wall' and the like.

All the way until noon, no one came out to stop Silver Coin, and no one came out to contact him. It wasn't until three or four in the afternoon that a swordsman leapt down from the wall and sternly demanded: "Who are you people? Where are you taking these refugees?"

"A woman?" Lord Nai Ge turned his head for a look: "Great Swordsman level strength, not weak. Who is she?"

No one answered him, because Silver Coin had already stepped forward and politely said: "Hello, beautiful lady swordsman, I am a priest of the Undead Temple. I am recruiting some people to work for me. May I have your name?"

A merchant Silver Coin had recruited locally hurried over and whispered a few words.

Silver Coin immediately said, delighted: "So you are the Countess Rebinia who has been working to rescue the refugees all along. A pleasure to meet you—may you be forever beautiful."

From the intelligence gathered earlier, it was said the city gates were closed and someone was trying hard to rescue the refugees but was stopped by the city's rulers. That person trying hard to save them was precisely the Countess Rebinia before them—a powerful Great Swordsman.

Rebinia, however, didn't buy any of Silver Coin's act. She said sharply: "You don't look like a priest to me, more like a merchant. You're slave traders, aren't you? You're planning to trick the refugees away and sell them to the mines as slaves? Speak!"

The surrounding refugees, hearing Rebinia's words, looked at each other uncertainly. They'd been so starved and dizzy this morning that at the sight of rapeseed cakes they'd thrown all caution aside and ignored this question. What if these people really were slave traders?

If they really got sold to the mines as slaves and worked to death, that would be worse than just starving to death. That direction seemed to be heading toward Iron Shacheng.

Silver Coin couldn't help forcing a bitter smile. This Rebinia really had a sharp eye—she'd seen right through him at a glance. Silver Coin really didn't look like a priest, but he wasn't a slave trader either.

Now this was trouble. The refugees had heard her words, and if their concerns weren't dispelled, these people probably wouldn't be willing to head to Iron Shacheng, afraid of being sold into slavery.

What to do? Silver Coin looked to Lord Nai Ge for help. Lord Nai Ge hurriedly whispered to Seeing Ange: "Go back and see if Anthony's free, shove him over here—he's more handy at handling this kind of situation. If he's not free, ask him what to do."

Seeing Ange nodded, his consciousness about to withdraw, when Lord Nai Ge hurriedly added: "Into the tent, into the tent—if you just toss a person out of thin air, that's too scary."

PS: Tomorrow's Qingming, I have to go back to sweep the graves, need to sleep early, one chapter first, don't know if I'll be exhausted