Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton
Chapter 1629 - 1190: One After Another

Chapter 1629: Chapter 1190: One After Another

"Lightning? How did you get here? Oh my god, how did you even come here? Did I summon you? Oh heavens, I missed you so much." Negris was so shocked that he didn’t even register Lightning’s curses, instead threw himself over Lightning’s head and started petting it excitedly.

"Let go, let go, you damn Little Fat Dragon! First, tell me where my horn went, huh? Did you break it off? I knew it—I knew you’ve always coveted my horn! Give it back right now, or I’ll pee on you! Waaaahhh—" Lightning was being manhandled yet still managed to take spare moments to talk—a verbosity so impressive it left everyone speechless.

However, judging by how ’Shit Yellow Four-legged Virgin Lizard’ was downgraded to ’Little Fat Dragon,’ it seemed Lightning wasn’t entirely immune to this warm display.

In high spirits, Negris ignored Lightning’s threats and instead said, "Although I wasn’t the one who removed your horn, I have to ask—how do you even plan to pee now in your current state?"

As he spoke, his gaze swept over Lightning’s disembodied head, wondering how it could pull off a pee without certain requisite parts.

"Oh, you Shit Yellow Lizard, do you believe me or not? If you don’t, I’ll start cursing you right now, nonstop, until you manifest all my limbs! Believe me or not, I’ll even bring up your past—how you got scared after being confessed to by a lady dragon—so scared you fled overnight..."

Just as Lightning was gearing up to unleash verbal wrath, Negris’s expression changed instantly. He quickly clamped a hand over Lightning’s mouth and hurriedly said, "I believe you, I believe you! Lightning, my noble ancestor, shut up. I promise I’ll find a way to manifest all your limbs back—just, please, shut up."

Anthony leaned his head in, visibly disappointed but still trying to mediate: "We’ll get to that later. Let’s first figure out how you even got here, Lightning—how exactly did you get here?"

"How did I get here? I have no clue—I blinked, and suddenly I saw you guys." Lightning replied cluelessly.

"What were you doing at the time?" Anthony pressed.

"What was I doing?" Lightning dove deep into thought. As he dug into his memories, an amorous expression spread across his face, and he even burst into laughter by the end of his recollection.

Negris shook Lightning’s head, jolting him back to focus: "What were you doing to look like that—so shameless?"

"Hehehe, one day, when I felt like my time was nearing its end, I started remembering a few things. I sneakily snuck back into the Elf Forest, waited for Gailard to let her guard down, and bit down on her World Tree bonsai before fleeing. She got so mad she wanted to snap my horn off, but she couldn’t catch me! Hehe—I kept running. I don’t even know how far I ran; I ended up in a sea of flowers, closed my eyes, and quietly reveled in how she couldn’t catch me even in her dying moments. I got such immense satisfaction!" Lightning laughed shamelessly.

Negris asked, "So, you actually died? How many times have you been reborn?"

Lightning thought for a moment before replying, "Three times, I think? There wasn’t anyone around each time. Boring."

In Ange’s Dimensional Space, Ange served as the creative Origin. The companions he knew had a unique privilege—they could reincarnate at will when their lifespans reached their limits, letting them live anew.

Alternatively, they could choose to slumber, waking occasionally to play for a while before sleeping again. If they became truly fed up with waking, they also had the option to transform into Undead beings, achieving eternal immortality.

However, most chose reincarnation, as it allowed fresh perspectives on life. Typically, they’d seal away their memories, living a new life like a blank slate, only unlocking old memories near the end to reflect on their gains and regrets.

Lightning, evidently, chose this method—to live multiple lifespans freshly and recover memories only when nearing old age. Yet his first restored memory turned out to be him biting Gailard’s World Tree bonsai.

Gailard, too, had reincarnated during this time but hadn’t yet recovered her memories. Thus, she didn’t recognize Lightning and ended up chasing him across nine mountain ranges before he ultimately escaped.

Just imagining devouring Gailard’s World Tree bonsai while still keeping his horn intact brought Lightning indescribable delight. Closing his eyes in peace, he reopened them only to see Negris’s dragon-like face hovering above him.

"You—" Negris was torn between laughter and tears. He had no clue what to say. Even at his deathbed, Lightning couldn’t let go of his grudge over his horn being snapped off, to the point it persisted through three rebirths in the Dimensional World.

"Alright, I’m done talking. Now, what’s the situation on your end? Why am I here?" Lightning asked.

Negris explained the situation: "Basically, I called out your name, and then you mysteriously appeared before us—but only your head materialized."

"Huh? So what now? Do I have to live with just a head? I mean, I can manage. So long as I can curse people, my combat prowess still holds. But can I even survive like this?" After figuring out his circumstances, Lightning seemed pretty chill, quickly accepting the absurdity of the setup.

Anthony chimed in: "We’re not sure either, but since your consciousness is stored within Ange’s main body, and you’ve managed to manifest here, something special must’ve happened. Since you’re manifested, why don’t you try manifesting your horn? Really focus on ’imagining’ it—put effort into it and see if it works."

"Huh? Just thinking—concentrating hard—will make it happen? Alright, I’ll give it a shot. Oh, oh—it’s working! My head feels itchy—it’s growing something!" Lightning narrated as he attempted earnestly. Soon enough, they saw a single horn beginning to materialize on his forehead.

With the same dedication, Lightning tried imagining his limbs—the five he claimed were missing—and even visualized himself taking a long, golden pee. Suddenly he shivered, exclaiming, "Ah, refreshing!"

Anthony and Negris hurriedly stepped away from Lightning’s imagined yellow puddle, disgusted at the thought, even though it was merely a manifestation. Lightning’s obnoxious energy was palpable—able to convey aggression even through a conjured, surreal liquid.

Joining their evasive maneuver was the Star Progeny Master. His movement didn’t escape Negris’s notice: "Lightning, curse him to death. I called you here because if you’re around, we can verbally annihilate him. In the Consciousness Space, we can’t physically touch him."

Lightning’s focus shifted to the Star Progeny Master, his gaze tightening the latter’s composure. However, instead of diving straight into insults, Lightning queried, "Who’s this guy? Give me the details. Since he seems revolted by piss, I might go for a poop-and-pee combo attack instead."

Such was the professionalism of Lightning—understanding one’s vulnerabilities was key. If facing a dung beetle, for instance, using fecal attacks might lead to confusion: "Why reward me?"

Negris introduced the Star Progeny Master, prompting Lightning to burst into laughter. "Oh, so he’s just the guy who got beaten so badly by Ange he couldn’t fight back, ran here seeking allies, only for his allies to get pummeled too while he just stood there helpless—eh? Star Progeny Master? More like Star Progeny Disaster!"

Everyone immediately saw flames erupting from the Star Progeny Master’s form—literal flames as his body began glowing red-hot under the sheer strain of his rising anger. The manifestation of his fury was evident; he had completely exploded in rage.

Yet even rage proved futile in this realm; they couldn’t physically fight back. Verbal combat remained the sole method of inflicting pain. Before Lightning could unleash further havoc, however, a figure gradually began manifesting over the surface of the Light Ball, then rose into view.

No—it wasn’t just one figure but an unending stream of appearances...

"Feilin? Purple Corpse? Auburnli? Hiludi? Sofia? Feiti? Locke?" As one familiar figure after another surfaced, Negris found himself overwhelmed.