Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton
Chapter 1577 - 1138: Killing the Mourning Undead Soldiers with One Strike

Chapter 1577: Chapter 1138: Killing the Mourning Undead Soldiers with One Strike

In a concealed spot near the Teleportation Array, Negris muttered furiously: "It’s not like the Teleportation Array was activated at all. That Dead Skull was clearly aiming for this stage from the beginning; as long as it could ’pollinate,’ that’s all it wanted. How infuriating. I was even wondering why it was acting so enthusiastic."

Anthony, however, seemed quite understanding: "It’s perfectly normal. Reviving a Primordial God isn’t so easy. Reaching this stage already counts as significant progress."

"Not easy? Maybe for others, but not necessarily for him. Didn’t you see him peel off a piece of Ketika Luti’s skin? He’s clearly plotting something. Perhaps he wants to undergo some transformation himself," Negris remarked.

The Time-Space Ancient Dragon among the Primordial Gods was something Ange forcibly formed from a Giant Dragon Scale by using the Druid’s Ultimate Transformation Technique.

Since the Dragon Clan passes down heritage through bloodlines, after transforming into the Dragon God, Ange naturally inherited the Dragon God’s legacy, mastering numerous Giant Dragon abilities that even Negris hadn’t grasped. These abilities, in turn, boosted Ange’s strength, allowing him to evolve toward a higher-tier Time-Space Ancient Dragon beyond the Dragon God.

And to think, it all began with a single Dragon Scale. Now Ange had peeled off a piece of skin—who knows what he might transform into this time?

"If it really is a Primordial God, then that would be the eighth type of Origin Power. What could the eighth type of Origin Power possibly be?" Anthony mused aloud.

"You’d have to ask Ange. Otherwise, who could know? Those things don’t count as knowledge," Negris responded. Knowledge, after all, requires someone to summarize and record it to become knowledge. The Void Origin is limited to just a handful, and no one’s going to summarize it for you.

When it comes to matters of Origin, if Ange says it is, then it is—if he says it isn’t, then it isn’t. The rest of them can’t even perceive the power of Origin.

Thus, as for the Primordial God here, it wasn’t something Ange explicitly claimed—it was speculation based on Ange’s behavior, coupled with the fact that this Void seemingly lacked Ancient Gods. But in truth, there were indeed Ancient Gods here, at least the Silent Magic Vine Mawani.

Now they finally understood why Ange was taking such an active stance—it was all because of that damned Pollinating Ancient God.

"Even the lord probably can’t explain it. For us, Origin Power is far too difficult to comprehend," Anthony conceded.

Negris nodded in agreement: "Indeed. When we share his vision, we find that the Void he sees is completely different from ours. With his poor communication skills, it’s no wonder he can’t explain it properly."

The Void, as seen by Ange, was filled with forces of all kinds—depressions, contractions, expansions, protrusions, collapses, and so on—while to the rest of them, the Void appeared utterly featureless.

Although they all wore pinhole imaging glasses now, those glasses didn’t directly observe Origin Power. Instead, they inferred the presence of Origin Power based on its impact on the external environment, resulting in images that still bore no resemblance to what Ange saw.

What Ange could see, they could not. Combined with Ange’s limited articulateness, trying to make a group of snowmen who’ve never seen fire understand what fire is—it was an impossibly daunting task.

"It doesn’t matter. Ultimately, the lord’s will is—wait, it’s happening; someone’s coming out." Anthony had barely finished speaking before ripples formed on the Teleportation Gate, and a group of figures squeezed through.

The earlier claim that the Teleportation Array had been activated proved incorrect—it was the Teleportation Gate that had opened. The Teleportation Gate was no stranger to anyone; when Ange had traveled from the Resting Camp to the world’s relay station, he had passed through that membranous layer—another Teleportation Gate.

In comparison to a Teleportation Array, a Teleportation Gate could remain perpetually open with minimal energy consumption. The cost only spiked when something passed through, but its shortcomings included a shorter transmission range, greater energy consumption for transmitting the same amount of mass as a Teleportation Array, and fixed transmission coordinates that couldn’t be freely adjusted.

"Another Teleportation Gate? Why didn’t you mention this earlier?" Negris grumbled, as a Teleportation Gate implied that the distance couldn’t be too great.

"You never asked," the Great Speaker replied. "I’ve never used the Teleportation Gate myself; how was I supposed to know there was one here?"

It wasn’t really the Great Speaker’s fault. This place was merely a relay station for his connection with his master, typically used for projecting spiritual intent to establish a transmission channel—how could he have known about the presence of a Teleportation Gate?

The group that emerged from the gate was busy with transportation, moving boxes one after another to a nearby pile. After a few trips back and forth through the gate, the group retreated to both sides, standing in formation as though preparing to welcome some important figure.

The next moment, a Celestial Descendant floated out of the Teleportation Gate.

Everyone perked up. Anthony immediately glanced at the Great Speaker, noting how he instinctively shrank back as though terrified of being noticed.

"Do you know him?" Anthony asked in a low voice.

"That’s the South Coronet," the Great Speaker murmured.

"Pfft... South Coronet? North Corona, South Coronet—don’t tell me there’s also an East Coronet and West Coronet? Did you guys just toss their names together so casually?" Negris couldn’t help but laugh.

The Great Speaker urgently whispered: "Keep your voice down! He’s nothing like North Corona; if he notices us, there’ll be trouble."

Negris remained unconcerned. "He won’t notice us; the Little Sapling is here. Is he stronger than North Corona?"

Uncertainly, the Great Speaker glanced at the Little Sapling atop Ange’s head, not entirely sure how it prevented detection. Still, as long as the disturbance wasn’t too great, the distance made it genuinely difficult to be noticed.

To stop Negris from laughing further, the Great Speaker softly explained: "They’re on completely different levels. North Corona’s just a spoiled child, always bullying others because he has a giant toy to play with. South Coronet, on the other hand, is a true member of the Celestial Descendant Clan—his power is utterly terrifying. I can’t beat him."

This revelation caused Anthony and the others to grow serious. They were well aware of the Great Speaker’s strength. If even he admitted defeat, then South Coronet’s power could not be underestimated.

"And what about East Coronet and West Coronet?" Negris pressed.

"There’s no East Coronet or West Coronet," the Great Speaker snapped irritably.

As they whispered among themselves, a group of shackled humans emerged from the Teleportation Gate. Each had a coffin strapped to their back, identical in design to the ones the Great Speaker dragged around.

"Hmm?" Anthony and Negris froze momentarily, quickly donning their pinhole imaging glasses. As they examined the scene, they commented aloud: "There’s a fluctuation of Origin Power. Great Speaker, those coffins are just like yours."

"It’s not just the coffins—the ones carrying them are Mourning Undead Soldiers, but without any Origin Power," Anthony noted.

The shackled figures were far from ordinary humans—they were all Mourning Undead Soldiers. Despite the weight of the coffins they bore, they moved effortlessly, even leisurely gazing around as they walked.

Once everyone had exited the Teleportation Gate, it closed. South Coronet then stepped onto the Teleportation Array, adjusting its coordinates to prepare for activation. Evidently, this was a relay point; the group’s ultimate destination lay elsewhere.

Just as South Coronet was adjusting the Teleportation Array, an unexpected turn of events occurred. Two of the coffin-bearing Mourning Undead Soldiers suddenly surged with energy, snapping each other’s shackled wrists and ankles. They promptly reattached their severed limbs and bolted.

South Coronet reacted instantly, launching himself after the fleeing soldiers with a powerful leap.

The escaping pair sensed his pursuit. The older one shouted: "I’ll hold him off! You run! Only if you reach the Friel Empire will you have a chance to survive."

The younger one clenched his jaw, resolutely accelerating without looking back.

The older soldier swung the coffin in his hand, aiming to smash it down on South Coronet’s head.

South Coronet deftly halted his forward momentum mid-sprint, allowing the coffin to narrowly sweep past his nose. He reached out with unnaturally elongated fingers, catching the coffin’s other end in a firm grip.

The older Mourning Undead Soldier clearly possessed martial technique. The moment his coffin was seized, he skillfully twisted.

But one being was the Lord of Mourning, and the other was a Subordinate Origin. Their combined strength far exceeded the coffin’s capacity—it shattered instantly.

The Mourning Undead Soldier reached into the coffin, grabbing the body inside and using it as a weapon to strike South Coronet.

South Coronet frowned deeply, retreating several body lengths before calmly placing his right hand behind his back and saying flatly: "You’ve made me angry."

"Oh? Angry now, are we? Then good. You’ve kept my son and me imprisoned for hundreds of years, using every imaginable method to turn us into these hideous undead. I can’t wait to kill you!" the Mourning Undead Soldier roared.

South Coronet’s voice remained void of emotion: "You’ve made me angry, so I’m going to make you angry. Is that your child over there? If he dies before your eyes, will that enrage you?"

Though his words were juvenile, spoken like a child fighting over toys, their content was chilling. The Mourning Undead Soldier instinctively glanced toward the fleeing younger soldier.

The smaller figure was already deep within the Void, sprinting across the ethereal plane. It had dwindled to a tiny dot, soon to vanish entirely beyond the enemy’s sight.

Just a little longer, the elder Mourning Undead Soldier silently prayed, ready to give his life.

With heart steeled, the elder soldier wielded the body in his hands like a weapon, charging South Coronet.

South Coronet did not engage directly. Instead, he began to maneuver evasively, his right hand still hidden behind his back. The energy emanating from his body intensified with each passing second. After ten or so seconds, he suddenly flung his arm forward, unleashing a beam of light. The radiant trajectory pierced through the dark Void, striking the distant speck head-on.

The speck flickered briefly, then disappeared without a trace.

"Hiss—eliminating a Mourning Undead Soldier in one strike? That took him over twenty seconds to charge up. What kind of attack was that? Origin Power?"