Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

Chapter 468: Chapter 275: Pick it up and Smash it_2

Little Angel’s eyes shone as she listened, her small head bobbing in eager agreement. Clearly, she too wanted to do the same – grab the described object and start smashing things with it.

Luna said, “Of course it’s impossible. Whether it’s a divine artifact or a divine technique, both need divine power to drive them. The divine power of the Goddess of Redemption is almost the weakest, even less than me… I used to be powerful. With her power, she isn’t capable of carrying all divine artifacts and techniques with her.”

When Luna spoke about herself, she paused slightly. Only then did Negris remember that the Luna in front of him wasn’t in her complete form.

Actually, not just Luna, but also the Goddess of Redemption, the Undead God, and even itself, none of them were in their complete form. It was unreasonable to measure the current gods based on their past data.

Among all the planes, the only one who had not changed was the Tree of Life. However, it wasn’t a god, or rather, it didn’t deign to become one.

The Tree of Life was a super-life form, possessing a force more powerful than the gods from birth. The faith dedicated to it by the elves was like donating to a billionaire.

Therefore, while the Tree of Life still lived, the other gods had all vanished, save for those who had been sealed away.

“So does that mean that the disappearance of the gods is related to the Faith Elemental Force?” Negris murmured in analysis. “This God of Redemption was newly born. Does that mean she also disappeared before, and only recently was reborn? Could she have retained her memory, knowing why the other gods disappeared?”

Everyone’s eyes lit up.

Little Angel’s eyes also lit up. She picked up the Earth Hammer and swung it around wildly, several times preparing to throw it, scaring the Earth Hammer into a frenzy.

…

By the side of the well, Ange stared blankly at the familiar building and gate in the distance.

What was his most familiar building? Resting Camp? Bronze Book Tower? World Transit Station? Undead Temple? Goddess of Beauty City?

No, the structure he was most familiar with was the stele of the Farm Barrier, located right in the center of the farm, a construction that resembled both a monument and a tower.

Little birds would build nests on it, and the skeletons from the nearby fields would pile up things like harvested straws around it, so it was always half-buried, exposing only a fraction at the top.

Eventually, the skeletons of the farm dispersed, and Ange became the only being capable of movement there. After needing a large amount of straw for compost and ashing, he slowly removed the objects around the stele, revealing its entirety.

It was originally an unremarkable object, but even an unremarkable thing can become extremely familiar after a thousand years. So Ange recognized the construction at a glance – it was a stele, indicating that this was a Farm Barrier.

The location of the well was at the fringe of the Farm Barrier. One could enter the Barrier’s scope by crossing a fence.

The Farm Barrier covered approximately three thousand acres. Half of the fields had been levelled and houses built, with the rest being farmed, sporadically planted with crops.

Small sheds were scattered among the fields, presumably for the convenience of tending to the crops nearby. It was similar to the straw loft that Ange had built himself with straw.

The living beings here ate, lived, and cultivated within the range of the Farm Barrier, as other places were not suitable for survival. As far as the eye could see, there were only gray rocks, even the sky was made of rock. It was like being inside a gigantic hollow rock.

Everywhere was pitch black, only the range within the Barrier had sunlight.

Inside the Barrier, the residents already knew about Ange’s arrival and were quickly gathering, carrying ragged farming tools, shouting loudly, and rushing towards him.

Seeing this scene, Negris, who was projected onto Ange’s body, exclaimed in astonishment, “So… so many minotaurs, they’re so skinny.”

There were at least a hundred minotaurs gathered. Males, females, old, young, all had come charging over in a torrent.

Ange took out Little Angel and Little Zombie. Ten minutes later, over a hundred minotaurs were kneeling on the ground with black and blue faces, their farming tools held above their heads, bellowing in pain and fear.

Ange took out everyone one by one.

Negris immediately circled the Farm Barrier, incredulously saying, “It’s exactly the same. Why is there a Farm Barrier here?”

Ange tilted his head, thought for a while, then walked into the crowd of minotaurs, picked the weakest one, took out a bag of grains, and asked, “Why is there a farm here?”

The Minotaur’s eyes bulged in disbelief, looking at the full bag of grain, he excitedly asked, “For…for me?”

Ange nodded.

The Minotaur opened his mouth wide, about to plunge into the sack of grain.

But the Little Zombie pounced on him, knocking him over with one shoulder and screeched at him.

The Minotaur looked from the Little Zombie to Ange in confusion. What did he mean? Could he speak human language?

Negris asked, “Answer the question: why is there a Farm Barrier here?”

The Minotaur blinked his innocent eyes.

Left with no other choice, Negris patiently explained, “Do you know what a Boundary is?”

The Minotaur shook his head.

That’s it. If it didn’t know even a Boundary, how could it know about the Farm Barrier?

Negris raised his head and turned towards other minotaurs, “Anyone knows? Whoever can answer this question will earn this bag of grain.”

The Minotaurs looked at each other, each face showing an eager expression, but none of them piped up.

Ange was asked to dig out more grain by Negris, one bag after another until five bags of grain were revealed. Finally, a Minotaur couldn’t hold back and rose up, “Sir, we don’t know what a Farm Boundary is, but we do know a place where you might find an answer. If we take you there, would you split this grain among all of us?”

When Ange looked, it was that aloof minotaur aunt from the well.

“Sure, no problem, lead the way.” Even if the Minotaur aunt hadn’t said this, Negris still intended to aid them, seeing their skeletal figures, looking like undead grass-eaters.

The Minotaur aunt looked at the grain bags piled on the ground, swallowing her saliva. With great difficulty, she turned her head and led Ange and the others towards the other end of the farm.

As they walked, the sound of her stomach rumbling like thunder echoed, sounding like a drum.

Obviously accustomed to it, the Minotaur aunt skillfully yanked her pants, immediately shutting up her belly.

“This is… too miserable.” Negris compared it to the Minotaur aunt of Witch City and Bridgehead Town, plus Vania, the cook, and suddenly felt that the one before him was the most pitiful.

Negris promptly motioned to Ange to get out a beet, “You are leading us, you should not be run out of strength. Eat this to fill your belly first. By the way, what is your name?”

The Minotaur aunt, being too engrossed with the beet that she couldn’t even hear Negris’ words, her eyes were like being sucked in, unable to pull away.

Left without a choice, Negris forcibly shoved the beet into her hand, finally drawing her attention back.

“Really… really… really for me to eat?” The minotaur aunt’s voice trembled a little.

“Yes yes yes, eat it.” Negris said with a combination of pity and resignation.

Luther now only eats fresh beets which are then coated in honey, and he meticulously peels off the skin and others, leaving only the translucent part, which is then dried into dried fruit as a snack.

Living a life of luxury like Luther, while others are eating dirt in other places, is simply too unfair. Negris spitefully resolved to deduct his snacks later.

The Minotaur aunt was energetically gnawing the beet, and didn’t have the time to answer Negris’ question. She carried on biting and walking until they reached a stele located at the edge of the farm.

Negris had a hunch why an answer could possibly be found in this place. It was because there were carved writings on the stele, only that they were inscribed in demonic scripts, and it wrote, “Exile of the Divine Bovine Race …”

Just as Negris read this far, Ange suddenly stepped forward, the Scythe of Death swung across the stele.

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