Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton
Chapter 1583 - 1144: Be Careful! Not Dead Yet

Chapter 1583: Chapter 1144: Be Careful! Not Dead Yet

Ange darted swiftly through the air, zigzagging east and west, his movements so fast they flickered like flashes of light, occasionally scraping against the atmosphere and leaving a trail of fiery tail behind.

He kept his distance, much like when South Coronet cornered Philas and killed his son.

Due to being bonded to the Bone Dragon, it was now South Coronet’s turn to find himself unable to catch him, enraging him to the point where he stopped to roar furiously, "What are you running for? If you’ve got the guts, come down here, and let’s face each other in a proper fight!"

Ange halted, turned around, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Damn it, thief, stop using my Southern Crown Strike!" South Coronet roared angrily as he charged forward again.

South Coronet understood too well the devastating power of his own technique. There was nothing special about Southern Crown Strike—it simply relied on accumulation. Ten seconds of buildup meant ten times the power of one second, and a hundred seconds yielded a hundredfold. If someone stood stationary and allowed such concentration, it might truly break through the Mourning Bone Dragon’s defense.

The Mourning Bone Dragon’s greatest asset, aside from its formidable Dragon Soul, was its defense. Any attack or damage would disperse throughout its entire body, mitigating the impact. As long as it didn’t exceed its maximum defensive limit, its bones would remain unscathed.

But the charged-up Southern Crown Strike could very well exceed the Bone Dragon’s max limit.

Then there was the Dragon Soul to consider. Initially believed to be the most powerful soul in this void, stronger even than the Great Speaker’s soul, it was shocking to see the enemy completely unfazed.

Earlier, that soul-shattering roar, which not only unleashed energy oscillations but also carried a powerful Soul Impact, had shattered the Star God’s Body, yet left the enemy’s soul unscathed. Could the opponent possess a soul comparable to the Requiem Dragon Soul itself?

It was quite unexpected for Ange to find such a rare equally-matched battlefield unfolding before him. No wonder many said that at higher levels, techniques start to lose their significance.

Their chase-and-evade dynamic was relentless—one stopped, the other would begin charging. The fight had devolved into a ridiculous stalemate from the start, leaving South Coronet deeply aggrieved.

"Come down here!" South Coronet shouted angrily.

"You come up here!" Negris retorted without backing down, playing the role of verbal provocateur.

"If you dare, stop running!" South Coronet surged upward. Ange spun and dove downward.

"If you dare, stop chasing!" Negris taunted gleefully, so much so that anyone familiar with him could easily imagine him standing with a smug pose, hands on hips and tail wagging triumphantly.

South Coronet stopped chasing, turned, and dove toward the ground. Ange immediately spun, his hands still behind his back as turbulent energy surged and swelled wildly.

South Coronet reluctantly shifted course, pursuing once more. Ange promptly switched directions to flee again. He couldn’t be caught, couldn’t be hit, couldn’t be cornered—neither side could do anything to the other.

On the ground, Red Star and Walker occasionally sniped with Red Star Flash and the Truth Cannon—attacks that would have taken out half the health of any other opponent but, on the Mourning Bone Dragon, merely felt like tickles.

Anthony remarked over the Soul Network, "This damage-dispersing ability is too absurd. It’s like silver coins and discounts—you have to deal several times the damage to break through its defense. Is this the Bone Dragon’s Requiem Technique? I’ve never seen any other Lord of Mourning use it before."

"Yeah," Negris replied. "This has to be a Requiem Technique. If every Lord of Mourning had this ability, Feiti would’ve already been invincible."

Feiti had Flash; others couldn’t land hits, couldn’t outpace him—wasn’t he practically invincible?

"So, what now? Is there anything we can do to help?" Anthony asked. "Should we bring out the World-Ending Magic Formation for a shot?"

To exceed several times the Mourning Bone Dragon’s maximum defense, only attacks on the scale of the World-Ending Magic Formation might suffice.

"No good, the formation won’t hit. Ange’s already called Old Immortal out of sleep," Negris said.

"Uh, has Your Majesty recovered?" Anthony hesitantly inquired.

He doubted the Monarch’s revival would change much. The Monarch’s power had been at a dire low, so weakened during the slumber that he was merely a Body of Mourning. Even with nourishment from the Deadman’s Fruit, it was virtually impossible to return to peak strength within a brief year or so.

Above all else, without Chaos Mist, the Monarch couldn’t restore his Primordial Body.

Speaking of it, the Primordial Body was supposedly the easiest to regenerate—all it required was a substantial supply of Chaos Mist. The problem was the scarcity; Ange could barely scrape together enough mist for his own use, let alone for the Monarch.

Without Chaos Mist, the breath of death would only restore the Monarch to the level of a Black Crystal Body, which wasn’t even Chaos Black Crystal. Admittedly, Black Crystal was a tier above the Lords of Mourning, but the enemy was a Mourning Bone Dragon. The output still wouldn’t reach the thresholds needed to pierce through its defense—it was futile.

"Not yet, it’ll take longer. But Old Immortal surely has a plan—he’s here," Negris reassured.

For an Undead, a year-long slumber barely counted as a brief nap. Crossing from Soul Fire into the Black Crystal Soul had taken the Monarch millennia; how could a single "nap" lead to full recovery?

Yet Negris had faith in the Old Immortal; fighting was his forte.

As Negris spoke, a spatial rift split open not far away, and a Black Crystal Skeleton carrying the Scythe of Death burst forth, its intent sweeping the area instantly, locking on to the Mourning Bone Dragon.

"Ange, you said there’d be a fight—don’t tell me it’s with this Bone Dragon? Mourning Bone Dragon?" The familiar soul waves resonated across everyone’s consciousness.

"Yes, Old Immortal! Go for it! Its Requiem Technique disperses damage, so you need several times the damage to break through its defense," Negris explained.

"Can I go back to sleep for a bit longer..." the Monarch grumbled, lamenting the high difficulty right out of slumber.

But his words didn’t match his actions—he nimbly bounced toward the Mourning Bone Dragon.

"Black Crystal? Who—are—you?" South Coronet demanded harshly, his final "you" roared aloud, accompanied by a violent Soul Impact.

Yet the Soul Impact had no effect on the Monarch whatsoever. Undeterred, he stomped sharply, the air visibly warped beneath his foot as though space itself had collapsed inward.

With a sudden release, the Monarch surged forward, shouting, "I am—the Void—King—all Undead—are—mine!!"

The same Soul Impact came again, but the Monarch’s eerie trajectory twisted sharply, dodging two clumsy bends to evade the Mourning Bone Dragon’s snapping jaws. The Death Scythe, now virtualized, elongated and sliced straight into the dragon’s skull. *Ding—*

"The Death Scythe—it’s the Death Scythe! I can’t believe I forgot such a basic ability... Wait, it didn’t cut through?" Negris exclaimed over the Soul Network.

Everyone had grown so used to calling it the Death Scythe that they forgot it wasn’t just a weapon but a skill that bypassed physical barriers to strike directly at souls.

Ange had once used the Death Scythe to pull Turus’s soul straight out.

Yet now, it had only gone halfway in and was stuck? The Monarch himself looked stunned, and with a casual twist of the scythe—

*Boom!* The embedded Death Scythe detonated, unleashing a wave of violet Soul Flame that erupted from the Bone Dragon’s eye sockets, nostrils, and mouth.

The Mourning Bone Dragon slackened, its head tilting downward as it plummeted from the sky.

The Monarch reached out, grabbing the dispersing Soul Flame and pulling it toward himself with some regret. "Well, there goes all the Chaos Mist I painstakingly saved, exchanged for a Requiem Dragon Soul."

While speaking, the Monarch forcefully inhaled, the tendrils of violet Soul Flame breaking apart and funneling into his body.

Negris gleefully crowed, "I knew Old Immortal would pull it off—one move, done! Haha... Wait, Old Immortal, watch out! It’s not dead yet!"