Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton - Chapter 383

Chapter 383: Chapter 233 I Really Like the Cemetery Grass You Gave Me_1
Dobinki led the way, and despite his best efforts to hide it, an expression of disgust involuntarily spread across his face, especially when he saw the skeleton zombies.

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The occasional arrogance and contempt emanating from him, the inherent superiority a city dweller feels towards a country bumpkin, annoyed the Great Sage. After all, Dobinki had blunt hands and feet and looked like a commoner. What was there to feel superior about?

The Great Sage himself was a very amicable undead. He personally drove to distribute relief grains and could hold a conversation with the mayor, the village chief, even a minotaur. He was not arrogant at all. But what was his real identity?

He was the Wise Sage of the Undead Empire, the wisest soul second only to the king. Even the stout Locke and Harvey wouldn’t dare show arrogance in front of him.

However, considering that Dobinki had brought high-yield crop seeds, the Great Sage felt he could tolerate such behaviour as long as it could solve the problem of food.

The Great Sage never guessed that it was not the Church of Light that had come, but the druids.

Like the disciples of the Church of Light, the druids were also naturally opposed to the undead creatures due to their ability to manipulate life. Their instinctual aversion to the dead was why the Great Sage hadn’t considered them at first.

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But now, Dobinki’s arrival caused the Great Sage to rethink his position, and it instantly dawned on him that the druids might be the best people to solve the problem at hand.

The Great Sage was now faced with a food shortage. As long as enough food could be produced, all the problems would instantly cease to exist.

The crop yield in the Land of Fallen was barely above a hundred kilograms per mu due to various reasons. If the crop yield could be tripled, they would be self-sufficient.

These druids claimed they had seeds that could yield a thousand kilograms per mu and mature over a short growth period of three months.

A thousand kilograms per mu was ten times the current yield.

If the yield could be tripled, that’d be sufficient. If quadrupled, they would have surplus to spend. Even if there was a lean year, they would manage somehow.

Step back a bit further; even if it couldn’t be tripled, doubling the current yield would still save many lives.

The group crossed the Holy Wall City and arrived east of the Central Mountain Range. The Great Sage pointed to the land ahead, saying:

“The west side is not safe right now. You can till the lands here. Pick any vacant space you want. If you want my grave, I will immediately relocate to make room for you, as long as you can grow enough food before the next Eternal Night,” the Great Sage declared confidently.

The Little Tree-stature of Dobinki shrugged with scepticism, “We’ll see. The soil around here doesn’t look particularly fertile. If we can’t produce a thousand kilograms per mu, it would be a wonder if we got five to six hundred kilograms. Let’s look around some more, hopefully, we can find more fertile lands.”

“No problem at all. Please, feel free to look around. Once you find something suitable, I will immediately have it cleared. Oh, Shadow Guards, do protect our esteemed guests. I have other matters to attend to and can’t entertain you all the time. Please understand,” said the Great Sage.

As the Great Sage mentioned the Shadow Guards, a few shadows surfaced to pay him their respects. With a flashing red glimmer in their eyes, they fixated on individual druids, each one assigned to a druid, their figures slowly fading into oblivion.

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This was not protection, but one-on-one observation. With these Shadow Guards watching over them, the Great Sage dared to let the druids wander around freely.

When the Shadow Guards appeared, all the druids were shocked, except for Dobinki, who didn’t seem surprised. He didn’t even glance at the Shadow Guards while he took a handful of beans from his bosom and scattered them on the ground.

“Life spirits who slumber in the earth, please hear my call, awaken,” Dobinki said with his left hand raised high, chanting aloud. In no time, the air around became moist, turning into a fine drizzle that seeped into the ground.

In just a few minutes, the ground was thoroughly drenched, and the seeds that had just been sown sprouted and grew visibly, soon turning into a Little Tree.

Once the tree grew, Dobinki stepped back to make room for the other druids. They quickly stepped in, hands beaming red and blue lights onto the Little Tree.

Under the glowing lights, the Little Tree grew rapidly and soon became a short, waist-thick tree about half a person tall.

The short tree suddenly came to life, with a thicket of roots unearthing themselves and entangling into two short legs, plodding forward.

The Tree Herders, the druid’s favourite helpers.

The five Tree Herders moved in five different directions, taking their time. Occasionally, their feet extended into tree roots that penetrated the soil, analysing the condition of the earth.

From time to time, they would pull up plants from the ground, roots and all, and plant them onto themselves, collecting local samples.

However, once they stepped into the Land of Deathly Silence, they could no longer collect any plant samples. Even their roots were reluctant to penetrate the soil.

After he dispatched the Tree Herders, Dobinki’s robe suddenly puffed up and magic power began circulating around him.

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After about ten seconds, Dobinki did a somersault and transformed into an eagle. He soared into the sky, performing the transformation magic – hawk.

The other druids, being less powerful than him, took a minute to transform. Dobinki waited for everyone to finish transforming. Once they had all turned into eagles, they chose a random direction and flew off.

One of the druids seemed to remember something and couldn’t resist asking with worry, “Sir, should we wait for the Shadow Guards? I am afraid we may inadvertently encounter other undead creatures…”