Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton
Chapter 1513 - 1074: It’s Not Certain Yet Who Will Tear Whom Apart

Chapter 1513: Chapter 1074: It’s Not Certain Yet Who Will Tear Whom Apart

From within the Divine Shell came an enraged roar. Yet amidst the sound, Ange could feel a trace of despair and melancholy. For a powerful consciousness to express its fury solely through a roar, its plight must indeed be a miserable one.

Ange’s mind drifted to a vision: He stood on a small hill, below stretched fields and crops engulfed in flames. Tiny sparks, carried by the rising heat, floated into the sky, blotting out the sun...

Instinctively, Ange felt anger bubbling within him. But he quickly snapped out of it, blinking and discarding the imagery from his soul.

Such a potent influence.

Just the roar alone carried such infectious power. Whatever was inside the Divine Shell was undoubtedly of the same level as himself. It was a pity—such a formidable presence, now imprisoned within the shell, reduced to a Crystal Stone-like energy source.

Ange placed his hand on the Divine Shell, sending his thoughts inward.

The roar instantly subsided, replaced by a confused message from within: "Who?"

Imprisoned for so many years, this was perhaps the first time another consciousness had reached into its domain. Usually, it was only the incessant banging noises that worsened its irritation.

Ange’s thoughts quickly scanned the interior of the Divine Shell. No wonder Negris had immediately associated it with the Divine Shells of the Holy Kingdom. The two were incredibly similar, except this one was bound by dense, intricate layers of imprints covering its surface, preventing any direct contact with the shell.

Seeing this, Ange gained an understanding of its circumstances and replied, "Ange."

"Ange? Why are you here?" Kram asked angrily.

Ange noticed that it seemed to mistake him for an enemy. Tilting his head, Ange bluntly asked, "Do you want to leave?"

Kram fell silent, hesitating for a long time before cautiously asking, "Leave? What do you mean?"

It had been trapped for so long that hearing such words made it instinctively doubt what it heard.

"Leave this place. Break the bindings," Ange replied.

"Who exactly are you?" Kram asked seriously. It was a powerful consciousness, each of its emotions exuding intense influence.

Unfortunately, Ange was unaffected. He reiterated his name, "Ange."

Kram grew more agitated. It had no idea what an "Ange" was. Just stating a name—what use was that?

Suppressing its emotions, Kram pressed further, "Can you really break my bindings?"

Ange nodded but quickly realized Kram couldn’t see his gestures. Using his thoughts, he replied, "Yes."

Ange had already examined the prohibitive seals above. They weren’t complex, though their strength was immense. Whoever had bound Kram was certainly an even more formidable being.

"Then hurry! Release me, break the chains!" Kram said excitedly.

Ange tilted his head, "What’s the price?"

Equal exchange was the first rule Ange had learned after leaving the farm. Over the years, he adhered to it consistently. While there were no real punishments for breaking it, he’d grown too accustomed to the principle to change now.

"Price? There’s probably not much I can offer except myself. If you can break my bindings, release me, and help me kill all the Celestial Descendant Clan, I’ll give you all my power," Kram said.

Celestial Descendant Clan? He’d never heard of them. Ange habitually shook his head, withdrawing his consciousness.

Equal exchange required knowing the equivalent values, didn’t it? Ange had no clue what the Celestial Descendant Clan were, nor the effort it would take to kill them. He also didn’t know how much Kram’s power was worth. Without that knowledge, how could he make an equal trade?

Unable to determine value equivalence, Ange decided to cancel the deal.

Kram was left befuddled. Since it couldn’t see Ange’s head shake, Ange’s silent withdrawal startled it into panic: "Hey, hey, hey! Come back! Come back! What price do you want? What price? Just say it! Hey!"

Kram had been bound for countless years. Ange was the only one to enter and tell it the bindings could be broken. If he just left without a word, who knew how many more years would pass before someone else arrived?

Ange withdrew his consciousness from the Divine Shell, just in time to hear Anthony responding to a communication: "Oh, sorry, Bapos is already dead..."

On the other end, the Lord of the North Corona raged: "Who are you? Who are you?! Leave my territory, or I’ll tear you all into shreds!"

"Lord North Corona, don’t be so angry. We’re just some passersby who accidentally wandered here. Seeing no one inside, we decided to rest for a bit. Would you like your World-Ending Magic Formation back? If not, we’ll just take it," Anthony said leisurely.

"Hmph! You’ve got a mouth cursed by the God of Chaos, you fool Bapos," North Corona snorted and sharply ended the communication.

Anthony blinked, confused, as he turned to Negris, "What did he mean?"

Negris explained, "He said your logic is so chaotic, it’s like your mouth is cursed by the God of Chaos—just babbling nonsense."

"Oh, that’s quite a unique insult. Let’s remember it and have Lightning roast him back later," Anthony quipped, then quickly added:

"I said, ’we’ll take it,’ and he just abruptly cut the conversation. Either he doesn’t want it anymore, or he’s confident we can’t take it."

At this point, Anthony looked at the fallen Bapos on the ground and asked, "Do you know how to move it?"

Of course, Bapos wasn’t dead. He suddenly twitched, glaring at Anthony with a defiant expression.

"What are you glaring at me for? He called you a fool, didn’t you hear? Even after you ’died,’ he’s still insulting you. Does such a master deserve your loyalty?" Anthony taunted.

One had to admit Anthony was downright dirty. His skill at sowing discord was second nature. The lie about Bapos being dead had been a spur-of-the-moment improvisation, but he’d still managed to pinpoint a vulnerability.

Bapos felt a twinge of bitterness but stubbornly retorted through gritted teeth, "The Abyss of World-Ending cannot be moved."

As long as he was willing to talk. Anthony replied, "Impossible. If it couldn’t be moved, how would you aim it? Can formations casually shift across planes?"

Bapos answered, "The Abyss can rotate in place but cannot be relocated. If you truly wish to move it, you’d need all the Crystal Dragons to come and drag it away, ha! You don’t stand a chance. Lord North Corona knows you can’t move it; he’ll return as quickly as possible to tear you all apart!"

Anthony chuckled, "He couldn’t even take the Undying Divine Fire from us. What good will his return do? Who tears apart whom remains to be seen."

Bapos’s eyes widened in shock: "It was you! The incident at Undead City—that was you?"

"Spot on. Seems like you’ve heard of us. So, what do you think? Can he tear us apart?" Anthony replied with feigned disdain.

Sure enough, Bapos took the bait, instinctively retorting, "Hmph, the Lord has already gone to summon the Great Ruler, to tear..."

Mid-sentence, seeing the shift in Anthony’s expression, Bapos realized he had slipped up. Yet, curiously, there was no fear on Anthony’s face—if anything, his expression turned oddly amused.