Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton
Chapter 1580 - 1141: Red, They, Leave

Chapter 1580: Chapter 1141: Red, They, Leave

Walking and walking, they finally saw light. Stepping outside, they realized they had emerged from a tree hollow, with a towering giant tree standing tall behind them.

In front was a neatly cultivated farmland, full of crops heavy with grains, swaying lightly in the breeze—a scene of immense vitality and beauty. That is, aside from the furious Elf Beauty and a group of menacing Mourning Skeletons up ahead.

Philas looked forward then backward, utterly baffled. Wasn’t he just trapped under a vine from a sapling in the Abyss Dimension? How did he end up in the Prime Material Plane just by walking around? This was far too magical.

Before he could think further, the enraged Elf Beauty on the other side had already started shouting: "Anthony, what did you do to our Lord?!"

Anthony awkwardly rubbed his nose: "What I did to him, hasn’t it all been laid bare?"

Bret cursed furiously: "You scum! We trusted you so much, yet you dared to cast such a vicious prohibition spell on the Lord. Die!"

Without another word, Bret slammed both feet into the ground, and an intense energy wave erupted beneath him. His entire body disappeared, only to reappear instantly before Anthony.

Unfortunately, just as Bret reached Anthony, Anthony’s broad hand grabbed his collarbone. With a deft motion, Anthony performed an over-the-shoulder throw, swinging him in a circle before slamming him into the ground, creating a human-shaped dent in the surface.

Lea and the rest of the Mourning Skeletons finally reacted at that moment, preparing to charge forward. But suddenly, they all felt an oppressive gaze locking onto their souls.

Undead creatures are highly sensitive to the presence of superiors. At their weaker stages, this sense is what they rely on to delineate territories and avoid wandering into an area ruled by a superior, lest their souls be seized.

This soul-lock immediately made their spirits contract, their necks shrinking as they froze in place. Only Lea remained unaffected, quickly running to the edge of the pit, trying to pull Bret out. As she worked, she muttered: "Are you crazy? Did you really mean it? He was just trying to scare you a little!"

Anthony chuckled lightly: "I was just trying to frighten him back. I didn’t even gear up. Stand up already and quickly contact the Great Speaker. Let him know not to force the prohibition spell any further. Each attempt triggers a random teleportation—don’t let him end up so far away he can’t make it back."

"He should be able to sense your location. Let him take his time flying back. No need to rush. We’re guarding this spot to ensure Table Mountain’s safety."

Bret climbed out of the pit, shooting Anthony a furious glare. The Soul Fire burning within his eye sockets began to shift. After a lengthy moment, Bret’s movements changed entirely—clearly, the Great Speaker had projected his presence onto Bret’s body. Even Lea noticed and quickly bowed in respect.

Within Bret’s body, the Great Speaker’s angry voice echoed: "What kind of prohibition spell did you cast on me? Why has this gone on for so long?"

Anthony explained briefly and then added: "The banishing force derives from the energy you used to resist the spell. As long as you keep struggling, the random teleportation won’t stop."

"Using my energy to banish me? What kind of twisted prohibition is this? Weren’t we supposed to just pretend? Why use something so over-the-top?" The Great Speaker roared in frustration.

Anthony remained unfazed, boasting: "This was merely symbolic, you see. The prohibition doesn’t harm you. The stronger ones might’ve injured you. We didn’t want that to happen, you know? Look, you’re getting banished around nonstop, but did it even hurt a single rib? With a stronger spell, you’d already be shattered."

There was no choice but to spin it this way. Saying "Ange is too powerful; he casually created this insane prohibition" would sound even more ridiculous.

But that was the truth—the prohibition was indeed something Ange had whipped up casually. The Great Speaker was the first to experience it, and even Negris hadn’t been aware Ange possessed such a technique.

"Then why didn’t you tell me earlier?" The Great Speaker fumed.

"We did tell you. The Lord said ’No,’ but you were too impatient and started resisting right away. I bet you thought, ’Such a trivial prohibition, I’ll break it in no time and scare them silly,’ right?"

"No, no! Nothing like that! I was just in a hurry," the Great Speaker replied, his tone noticeably weaker.

He had indeed thought this at the time. He had sensed the prohibition wasn’t particularly strong. But who could’ve guessed it would be so cunning? When he gathered energy to resist, the prohibition loosens slightly—and then his force gets drawn away by the spatial rift. Every attempt ended this way.

Originally, he wanted to tough it out and completely exhaust the energy empowering the prohibition. After all, a teleportation spell shouldn’t have infinite fuel. That would go against the Laws of the Void.

But he hadn’t anticipated that the prohibition would harness his own energy for activation. In other words, even if his power was depleted, the prohibition would persist.

Thankfully, he managed to establish contact. Otherwise, he’d have been stuck endlessly trying to overpower the spell, only to risk being teleported beyond Soul Contact range—making it impossible to return.

"So how do I break this prohibition? Hurry and tell me the method! My power is now restricted. Flying back slowly will take forever!" The Great Speaker demanded.

Anthony turned to Ange, who said: "Freckle Removal."

The procedure required the Freckle Removal Technique, which meant Ange had to do it personally.

Anthony responded immediately: "Alright. The prohibition imprint has some key node circuits. Just wipe them out, and the spell will be broken."

"Wipe out the nodes? Do you realize how complex this prohibition imprint is? Sixteen layers, seven-to-eight loops, thousands of energy circuits. I can’t even see it clearly—how am I supposed to know which nodes to wipe?" The Great Speaker raged, almost to the point of cursing.

"Just erase the snake-shaped one, the double-arch one, and..." Anthony began gesturing randomly; there was no way the Great Speaker could find the suggested nodes.

As expected, the Great Speaker couldn’t locate the key nodes Anthony mentioned, no matter how hard he tried. Even Ange himself might’ve struggled to pinpoint them.

Eventually, Anthony shrugged with feigned regret: "Looks like there’s no other way. You’ll have to return first and let the Lord handle it personally."

The Great Speaker glared at him for a long moment before gritting his teeth and saying: "I get it now. You’re just a politician—like those aristocratic officials who only know how to shirk responsibility..."

Anthony waved dismissively: "No, no, no. You underestimate me. Lord Nage, why don’t you enlighten him about what I truly am?"

Negris snorted derisively, saying: "He’s the Death Godman—far better at shirking responsibility than any politician. Success? Divine blessing. Failure? Your lack of faith."

The Great Speaker froze. He had never encountered anyone so brazenly shameless.

But there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t break free from the prohibition, nor could he return for the time being. Table Mountain still needed their protection. Resigned to his situation, the Great Speaker swallowed his frustration and said:

"Fine. Call it bad luck. Table Mountain is now in your hands. The plane doesn’t matter, but you must protect my people. Can you manage that?"

Anthony grinned and nodded: "No problem. See? We came rushing in as soon as possible—for your people’s sake."

"Let’s hope so. Bret is now under your command; the others must be well-protected. Watch out for Fatty Dragon." The Great Speaker warned.

"What? Ogarlima Potexslatopi Fei Long? That Mourning Bone Dragon? Isn’t it your pet?" Negris nearly spat out a mouthful of blood upon hearing this. That Mourning Bone Dragon lurking near the Zhuo Shan Dimension wasn’t an ally but an enemy?

The Great Speaker sighed faintly: "I can’t afford to keep it..."

Just as he finished speaking, Ange suddenly raised his head sharply, staring at the sky. A massive Mourning Bone Dragon came crashing down, smashing through the Plane Barrier as if it were mere paper, leaving a gaping hole for it to storm through.

Straightening his back instinctively, Ange stepped aside from the world-tree hollow behind him, pointed toward it, and commanded sharply: "Red, they, go."