Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton-Chapter 865 - 480 Well Framed and Slandered Huh _2

Chapter 865: Chapter 480 Well, Framed and Slandered, Huh? _2

Chapter 865: Chapter 480 Well, Framed and Slandered, Huh? _2

“He went under the sea,” Negris replied.

“What! Under the sea? In these waters?” Doroc asked, startled and eagerly.

“Yes, he went down from the pool. Is there a problem?” Negris said.

Doroc spoke anxiously, “There’s a group of sea serpents in the sea around here. They are enormous, and even I don’t want to provoke them when I’m alone. It’s easy for your lordship to run into them in the sea.”

Negris asked calmly, “Sea serpents? Do they know magic?”

Doroc shook his head, “No, they don’t.”

“So, are they fast swimmers?” Negris asked.

“They’re not. If they were, we would have moved away a long time ago. Who would dare to live here?” Doroc replied.

“How big are they?” asked Negris again.

“The biggest one is over thirty meters long,” Doroc said.

Negris was nonchalant, “Only over thirty meters? Don’t worry then. A magic-less beast I’ve seen was a hundred meters in length. In the water, without some special ability, they can’t catch up to Ange.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than there was a splash. A giant sea serpent’s head emerged from the pool, then it slapped back onto the water’s surface with a smack.

Ange and the Little Angel climbed out of the water, used Elemental Repulsion to dry themselves off, and then began to cast spells.

One after another, magic spells fell into the water, and a huge water element arm congealed, lifting the sea serpent out of the water and onto the ground, stretching over thirty meters long.

Doroc was stunned. He had just said the sea serpents, thirty meters in length, were dangerous, and now Ange had captured the biggest one, the Sea Serpent King known to him.

Doroc didn’t want to get injured, so he had not wanted to provoke it; before, when he was alone, no one could heal him if he got hurt.

Negris was also stunned. Such a large catch; his supplies of spices would not suffice. How to handle this? Maybe just blanch it?

The others were also stunned. What to do now? Could they finish eating it?

“If you can’t finish, just pack it up and go. There are still so many people on land with nothing to eat. Why worry about this?” After contacting Anthony from Northern Wind City and the others, Anthony returned and saw everyone’s worried faces, and could not help but give them a piece of his mind.

Of course, his speech was directed at those who had just been rescued by him from the Prison of Death, a group of twelve, all devout believers.

“You are the most devout believers of our Lord, even in the Prison of Death, even amidst suffering, even when your faith was desecrated, you never gave up. The hardship has tempered your faith; the Light needs you to spread it.”

“Thank you for your teachings, Your Holiness the Pope. We should not be dismayed. We should not be confused. A steadfast heart is a tower in the distance, a devout heart is the light atop the tower…” These humans immediately began confessing their faith devoutly, forsaking their meals, each one praying on their own.

Doroc finally understood why these humans seemed so strange—they were fanatics! The kind who, if you badmouthed something they believed in, would fight you to the death, and if they couldn’t win, they’d just die in front of you.

My God, so many zealots. Did I say anything bad about their god just now? Did I? If so, is it still okay to take it back now?

Anthony nodded kindly, then turned around and called everyone to eat.

“Shouldn’t we take care of them? Is it okay not to eat?” Negris asked quietly.

Anthony shrugged helplessly: “Do you think all the healing Divine Arts we have were just conjured up out of nowhere? True zealots and ascetic monks are all such fanatics. You can’t hold them back. Either they’re not devout or they dislike you. Forget it, don’t bother. I already fed them Elf Beans when I led them out.”

Negris nodded and then buried his face in the roasted fish, eating until his mouth was dripping with grease.

Suddenly, Negris felt a sensation and turned his head to see that behind Ange, there appeared a circle of white flames burning fiercely and a cross with a balance—the Ring of Balance, the Equal Cross.

“This… this… a sign of divine manifestation. Are these guys’ beliefs so fervent?” Negris was shocked and dumbfounded.

A long time ago, he had said: it’s not the gods who create believers; it’s the believers who create gods.

This conclusion had been confirmed by the God of Life, who had said that the Gods of Light were once humans, strong members of the Church of Light.

Not long ago, Ange had experienced the believers’ ‘creation’—Buck’s Imprint—it had allowed him to bridge two worlds, all key to believers ‘creating’ gods.

And among the most critical are the cult followers; ten thousand lukewarm believers can’t compare to one cult follower, and a hundred thousand can’t compare to one ascetic monk.

Only the most resolute conviction, the most devout faith, can define what ‘God’ is.

The God of Balance was “defined” by twelve cult followers, even though it already existed, just in another world.

Being redefined here meant that Ange could now access the Divine Power of the God of Balance in this realm.

Seeing this scene, the believers’ hearts grew even more fervid, their faith even more devout.

“Mad, they’re all mad,” Negris thought to himself, envious to death and muttering with jealousy.

Negris’s envy, however, was Ange’s trouble: so many Soul Flames, how to equate them…

…

Anthony took the cult followers and left first; Ange had to stay behind to collect bird droppings, until the Divine Realm was packed full of them.

Negris had grown accustomed to it; if it weren’t for the lack of a suitable bay nearby and the ground being covered in bird droppings, which made it unsuitable for growing vegetables, Ange would have probably filled this place before leaving.

“What about you? What are your plans?” Dodging a Juvenile Dragon’s pounce, Negris asked.

Doroc said with a defeated expression, “I will follow you, ancestor, please take us with you.”

“Oh? When you were eating fish, you talked about building Dragon Island, making it a blissful place for the Dragon Clan to live and thrive. Why change your mind?” Negris asked in surprise.

“Back then, I didn’t realize how annoying eighteen little brat dragons would be. I can’t deal with them; please take me with you, great ancestor, I beg you,” Doroc pleaded exasperatedly.

Eighteen Juvenile Dragons, oh heavens, just like tens of thousands of ducks, yapping in front of you, and running around everywhere. If Doroc wasn’t careful, they would slip into the water. Were the giant eels in the sea incapable of beating Doroc, yet unable to eat these Juvenile Dragons?

“Brat dragons, huh, you can’t be too nice to them; you have to be strict. When it’s time to hit them, hit them, or they will climb on your head and piss on you, ouch!” Before Negris finished speaking, a Juvenile Dragon pounced on him and sat on him.

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“Ow!” Little Angel ran over and punched the Juvenile Dragon in the face.

“Wah!” The Juvenile Dragon, angered and wanting to fight back, got fiercely beaten by Little Angel, who once beat kids black and blue.

After the beating, she dragged it away by its tail, then pointed to an empty spot for it to stand as a punishment, supervised by Little Zombie. Before long, that empty spot was lined with Juvenile Dragons trying not to cry.

“Ow!” Little Angel scolded.

“Whine…” The Juvenile Dragons responded with heads drooping in dejection.

Doroc and Negris simultaneously wiped their sweat and heaved a sigh.

Just then, everyone noticed something and turned their heads westward in unison, only to see thick black smoke rising behind the western horizon.

Gaddarigo landed from the sky and said, “That direction, it seems to be Prison of Death Island.”

As Anthony had teleported away with the cult followers, Gaddarigo was left behind. Conveniently, everyone quickly boarded it and flew towards the direction where the black smoke was rising.

Once Little Angel and Little Zombie left, those Juvenile Dragons started frolicking again. Doroc watched them with a worried frown, intending to be as strict as Little Angel, but feared his big paws might accidentally kill them.

Gaddarigo flew over Prison of Death Island and saw that all the guardians’ buildings were destroyed, and not a single Undead was visible.

The prisoners who lived scattered across the island were unharmed, though. They clustered in small groups, cluelessly watching the distant black smoke rise.

Negris randomly questioned one person, who was evasive until Negris grew impatient. Then the person said, “It was Lord Anthony; after sending away the chosen ones, he sent people back to kill the guards.”

Great, framing and false accusation? Who did it?

No sooner had Negris thought this than he saw a troop of Undead Knights galloping on the water towards Prison of Death Island, with a Soul Car flying in the air behind them, a powerful will extending towards them from within.

Great, one trap triggering the next; the frame-up quickly took effect.

Kvada, we blundered our way right into the trap.