Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

Chapter 76: Chapter 69: Legacy of the Undead_l

Translator: 549690339

“There’s no problem in teaching you, but what are you buying grain for? You can sow over two hundred acres a day, which is more than enough to support everyone in this world. So why buy grain?” Negris conveyed a wave of information via soul transmission: “Alright, the lesson’s over.”

“To plant,” Ange responded.

“You’re purchasing grain to plant? Don’t you have your own seeds?” Negris was surprised. The seeds Ange cultivated had quite high yields. Was there a need to purchase other seeds for planting?

“Different seeds, planted together, don’t degrade,” Ange said.

It took a while for Negris to understand what Ange was saying. He gaped in astonishment, “Are you talking about hybridization? To prevent seed degradation? You can think that far ahead?”

Ange tilted his head in confusion. Why wouldn’t he think that far ahead? He was a professional at planting crops.

Back in the Temple of Rest, he had experienced seed degradation. It took great effort to preserve the growth rate of the seeds, but they were not good in terms of their yield, resistance to pests, lodging, and root properties. Now that he had the right conditions, why shouldn’t he improve them?

Sorting through the information Negris transmitted, he understood. Good, he learned it.

The perk of being undead is that learning anything is as simple as a soul transmission – memorizing those dead-end Magic text, Math, and Arcane symbols has never been more convenient.

“If you’re only receiving teleports, you don’t need to activate all the functionalities of the teleportation array. Opening the coordinates alone will suffice, and it’ll save a lot of energy.” Having transmitted the knowledge, Negris was still afraid that Ange might make a mistake and couldn’t help but offer additional guidance.

Ange waved his hand and opened the coordinates.

As he continued to familiarize himself with other functions, a dot began to emit a soft yellow light and started to flicker slowly on the coordinate system.

“What is this?” Ange asked, casually waving his hand.

“Don’t! That is a request…” Negris tried to warn him, but it was too late. The dot of yellow light had moved to the center of the diagram and the light vanished. After a long while, a soft voice came through, “Hello… Can you hear me?”

Negris facepalmed and spoke using soul transmission, “That was a request for communication. By accepting it, you’ve just informed the other end that the World Transit Station is in operation, haven’t you?”

“Shouldn’t it be informed?” Ange tilted his head.

“Don’t touch anything.” Negris sighed, afraid to let Ange operate it any further. His small paw traced over the coordinate system for a while before he finally took a breath, “Good, good. We haven’t marked it, therefore not exposing it.”

Oh God, a World Transit Station! If word got out that the World Transit Station had been reactivated, all the planes would go crazy. Everyone would be frantically seeking its location, then rushing here to seize control.

If you controlled the World Transit Station, you essentially controlled the traffic arteries of countless planes; you could earn a fortune simply by charging for transit.

Ange tilted his head, obviously not understanding.

Negris explained, “Spatial Magic doesn’t normally leave any sort of mark. It’s not like when you link to a teleportation point, and it automatically generates a big sign saying it’s a certain teleportation array, right? It only identifies itself for you when it tells you who it is. That’s a marker.”

“If the marker isn’t activated, even if someone links with you, they won’t know this is the World Transit Station. Do you know why coordinate grids are precious? Because even if no one tells you, you can still identify who the other party is.” Negris leaned in to examine the light dot, “An unknown coordinate point? Well, this is awkward.”

He’d just praised the importance of the coordinate system, and now he didn’t know which place was on the other end.

“There’s only one possibility: This place is new and has never appeared in the coordinate system before,” Negris said definitively.

“Oh.” Ange pulled his straw hat down, transformed into a human, and asked,

“Who are you?”

“Ah? Ah! We’ve got a response, we’ve got a response. Priestess, quickly, come over, we’ve got a response!” An excited and frantic voice came from the other end. After some commotion, everything fell silent again. Then a woman’s voice with a peculiar accent rang out:

“Hello… Hello, great Lord of the Purple Skeleton, we finally received your response. I am a priestess of the Purple Skeleton Clan, the twenty-first Purple Skeleton. I pray devoutly to you, wishing your soul peace.” As the priestess spoke, a Soul Flame appeared out of thin air, merging into Angel s body.

A completely random priestess who had contacted him turned out to be a follower of the undead.

But then again, it’s not surprising. The Undead Empire in its heyday dominated numerous worlds. Which plane wouldn’t have followers of the Undead? Perhaps Ange could make use of the teleportation array to tour the planes and collect a large amount of Faith Elemental Force.

“What’s Purple Skeleton?” Ange asked.

“Uh? Purple Skeleton? A Purple Skeleton is a purple skeleton, of course.” The priestess replied.

Negris guessed, “Could it be a Mourning Skeleton? There’s probably some minor plane that encountered a Purple Gold Skeleton in the past, leaving behind the legend of the Lord of Purple Skeleton. They formed a primitive worship, built a teleportation array, and try to contact the World Transit Station from time to time, trying to find the Lord of the Purple Skeleton. Just like how Feilin and Aisike occasionally come here to try their luck, hoping to contact the Temple of Rest.”

Speaking of the Purple Gold Skeleton, Ange immediately thought of that purple-gold figure. The strongest skeleton under the Undead King, the Lord of Mourning… What was his name?

Ange tilted his head, unable to recall the name of the Lord of Mourning. He was just a little skeleton who planted crops, who would tell him the name of the Lord of Mourning? There was a big level gap there. The master who created him didn’t engrave these names into his soul. With no other choice, he turned to Negris for an answer..

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