Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton
Chapter 1605 - 1166: A Thing Not Inferior to Little Ghost

Chapter 1605: Chapter 1166: A Thing Not Inferior to Little Ghost

Being targeted by the Monarch meant that no matter how far one ran—say, nine streets away—one would still be caught. And this little Wraith? It didn’t even attempt to run. Instead, it merrily detoured around, planning to sneak into the Undead City for a feast. Just imagining the hundreds of thousands of fresh, delectable intelligent souls inside left it quivering with excitement.

But just as it approached, it bumped right into the Monarch head-on. After taking a few hits, it was reduced to tears. What followed was a torrent of thunderous roars. Of course, the Monarch’s roaring wasn’t just noise; it was a soul-stunning ability. After just a few roars, the Wraith spilled everything it knew.

However, the Wraith’s mind was incomplete. The more it was roared at, the more panicked and incoherent it became. Fearing that it might truly break, the Monarch quickly grabbed it and handed it over to the more skilled Anthony.

Anthony glanced at the Wraith but did not immediately start interrogating it. Instead, he pulled out the Holy Shroud, wrapped it up, and tossed in some Fierce Spirit Fragments.

Fierce Spirits, all at Mourning Level, boasted immense Soul Strength. Unfortunately, their incomplete consciousnesses rendered them unable to fully utilize it. When encountering something designed specifically to counter them—like a Holy Spirit—they were instantly rendered powerless.

Throwing some Fierce Spirit Fragments into the Holy Shroud and letting them stay there with the Wraith? Wasn’t that essentially letting it absorb them? Negris asked in confusion, "Are we really here to heal it?"

Anthony replied, "It’s scared stiff. We won’t get anything useful out of it until it calms down."

"Scared? Old Immortal, did you scare it?" Negris asked.

"I roared at it. It should be fine, though. Its soul seemed pretty resilient; a few roars won’t break it," the Monarch responded.

Anthony chuckled bitterly. "It’s not broken, just frightened. These incomplete Spiritual Bodies get their thoughts jumbled when scared. It’s impossible to interrogate them like that. Your Majesty, please take a break. I’ll report back once I get some answers."

The Monarch waved dismissively, "I’m not tired. Don’t worry about me—just proceed at your own pace."

Anthony smiled helplessly. "In that case, Your Majesty, would you mind stepping back a bit? Your aura is too overwhelming for it to handle."

This Wraith was clearly no ordinary entity but rather one endowed with special abilities. That’s likely why the Master of the God Star Descendants dared to throw it alone into the Undead City, unafraid that it might be torn apart by other Undead.

But no matter how special it was, it was still just a Wraith. To endure a few roars from a Black Crystal Soul Monarch without dissipating on the spot was testament to its resilience.

Unlike complete Spiritual Bodies, which, at worst, would simply explode under pressure, incomplete souls like this one? Roar too loudly, and they might actually lose memories for good.

It was only now that the Monarch grasped Anthony’s concerns. Scratching his head awkwardly, he retreated to a far corner.

The Holy Shroud blocked all soul perception—it could even isolate Life Box Rebirth. Once the Wraith was tossed inside, it was like being trapped in a dark, sealed-off bottle.

If it were a normal, intelligent soul—or if it suffered from claustrophobia—it would likely be half-dead with fear by now. But this Wraith? Not a normal soul. The moment it realized the terrifying figure who had roared at it was gone, it visibly relaxed. Then it noticed the abundance of Soul Fragments around it.

"Take a bite. Delicious. Another bite... Eat, eat..."

When Anthony opened the shroud again, he was met with the sight of the Wraith voraciously gnawing on the Soul Fragments. It chewed so fast that it even made sound effects with every bite.

"Tasty?" Anthony handed over an even larger Soul Fragment, silently wondering, *Does it not need to digest?*

The Wraith eagerly grabbed the Soul Fragment and, while chewing vigorously, responded, "Tasty—take a bite—delicious—roar—"

Mid-chew, the Wraith suddenly flashed a ferocious expression, letting out a few fierce roars. After that, it nonchalantly resumed chewing on the fragment as if nothing had happened.

Hiding behind Anthony, Negris poked his head out and whispered, "It looks like it’s purging memory fragments from the Soul Energy."

Anthony nodded, equally shocked. "That explains why the Master of the God Star Descendants wasn’t worried about it entering the Undead City. With an ability to consume endlessly and digest as quickly, it would devour the entire city within half a month."

Why couldn’t Undead creatures quickly level up despite devouring other souls? Because they had to digest. What they needed to digest were the memory fragments embedded in Soul Energy.

For any Spiritual Body, even a Soul Fragment held residual consciousness. Consider skeletons: They remembered hunting, sleeping, fighting, and even getting dismantled by others. Those memories made them unique. No two skeletons shared identical recollections. Even if they began life with the same implanted memories, their experiences diverged once they started acting on their own.

If those memory fragments were preserved during consumption, the one devouring them would essentially relive the consumed being’s life, risking personality fractures.

Digestion was the process of filtering out those memory fragments—a slow endeavor with almost no shortcuts, except the Deadman’s Fruit.

Even fragmented Soul Fragments, scattered breath of death, or condensed Soil of Rest carried residual memory fragments. These remnants, prolific as air in the world of death, spawned countless Wraiths. Filtering them out was as impossible as extracting specific elements from the air itself.

But the Tree of the Dead made it possible. Its fruit distilled pure death energy without any trace of memory fragments, allowing Undead to absorb it directly, skipping the digestion process entirely.

With the help of the Deadman’s Fruit, the Monarch had transitioned from a Mourning Soul to a Black Crystal Soul in just two short years. The last time the Monarch achieved such a leap, it had taken tens of thousands of years.

Alas, advancing from Black Crystal Soul to Chaos Black Crystal required an entirely different logic. It wasn’t a matter of sheer quantity anymore; otherwise, the Monarch wouldn’t even bother getting out of bed.

And now, this Wraith was heading down the completely opposite path: devouring mindlessly in bulk, then purging effortlessly. No one could guess how it managed to pull this off.

Soon, the Wraith had finished devouring all the Soul Fragments. Still unsatisfied, it looked expectantly at Anthony, then at Negris, and asked, "Are you tasty? Let me take a bite and see."

Negris felt the urge to transform and start swinging. It actually wanted to bite him?! But before he could act, Anthony had already produced a ball of Holy Light. "Here, try this."

Feeding Holy Light to a Wraith? How sinister—it’s wonderful. Negris’s dark sense of humor kicked in, and he watched gleefully.

The Wraith actually bit down on the Holy Light, producing a sizzling sound as if deep-frying itself. It howled incessantly, like it had burned its mouth: "Hiss—ah—oh—ugh—urgh..."

Incredibly, it ended by letting out a satisfied burp. Having forcibly swallowed the Holy Light, smoke wafted from its mouth as it muttered, "Not tasty. Burned."

Then it turned its attention back to Negris. "What flavor are you? Let me take a bite."

Both Negris and Anthony were stunned. Anthony even called out from a distance, "Your Majesty, can you forcibly imprint it with a Soul Brand? This could be an incredible treasure—it can digest anything!"

The Monarch’s distant voice rang out, "Tried it. It ate the Soul Brand."

"Hiss..." It ate the Soul Brand? Something capable of devouring a Soul Brand? Was such a thing even possible?

Anthony could only turn to Ange. "Sir, do you have any way to subdue it? This might be something on par with a Little Ghost."