Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton - Chapter 1151

Chapter 1151: Chapter 715: Beaten to Death for Consuming Soul Flame? Chapter 1151: Chapter 715: Beaten to Death for Consuming Soul Flame? “Undead Ruler?” Everyone showed strange smiles on their faces, and Anthony turned to Anrus and asked, “How long has it been here with you?”

Anrus hesitated before replying, “I don’t know, maybe tens of thousands of years? From the legends passed down by the elders in my clan, there has always been a description of the Great Elf. I grew up listening to its deeds from a young age.”

“Heh heh, the Undead Ruler only came to the Chaos Plane a few hundred years ago; the timing doesn’t match up, beat it up.” Negris said with a chuckle.

“Ow!” The Little Angel went up and gave it a beating, and a Holy Spirit Angel beating an undead creature is the most fitting, and vice versa.

The Necromancer wailed miserably, its soul sinking downward. It hadn’t expected that there would be people on the Chaos Plane that it couldn’t deceive as the Undead Ruler? And these people…

No no, that person was excessively strong. After all, it was a deity who had ignited Divine Fire, and although its divine might wasn’t evident due to the lack of followers, it shouldn’t have been blown away by one punch, right? Who were these people?

After the beating, Anthony then asked, “How long have you ignited Divine Fire?”

The Necromancer hesitated.

A divine radiance began to slowly emerge from Anthony’s body, and a crown of light appeared on his head, his whole body shining brilliantly, as he asked again, “How long have you ignited Divine Fire?”

Anthony’s voice, driven by Divine Power, struck the Necromancer’s soul like wave after wave, making it tremble: This… this… is this also a deity?!

From the outset, one could see how big the gap was between the two sides’ strengths; nearly everyone on Ange’s side could see through the divine power on the Necromancer at a glance, but the Necromancer was only just realizing it?

But it wasn’t its fault; Ange’s strength was too strong, concealing it without a trace of leakage. Anthony had his Divine Soul on Ange, and Negris was projecting directly out; it was only normal that it couldn’t see.

This brought a tremendous shock to the Necromancer, especially as Anthony kept belittling it on the sidelines, “Your God Status is so weak, and your control is weak too, with divine power leaking out from time to time. Haven’t you learned how to be a deity? We have deity training classes here, do you want to sign up for a class and learn how to be one?”

“You… who exactly are you?” the Necromancer asked.

“Didn’t I say? We are messengers from the Kingdom of Gods, but never mind, let me give you a grand introduction. I am the Divine Spokesman on earth, the interpreter of Divine Edicts, the singer of Holy Hymns, the wielder of the Punishing Sword, the Pope, Saint Anthony. How may I address you?” said Anthony, authoritatively.

The Necromancer was so shocked that its jaw almost dropped, murmuring after a long while, “Although I don’t understand, with such a long title, it sounds so impressive. But you’re not a deity, just a spokesman? The spokesman for which god?”

Anthony stepped aside, “This is my Master God.”

The Necromancer’s expression stiffened. Ange, who had blown it up with a punch, was much more intimidating than those unheard-of deities.

Unable to beat them and unable to bluff them, and on top of that, the little girl’s blows were super painful, the Necromancer submitted, replying, “You can call me Aesclis.”

“Eh, such an elven name; were you also an elf in life? Let me see.” Anthony leaned in, picked up its sparse, withered hair, straightened out its ear, and then cast the Face Purification Technique.

The entire ear plumped up, swollen into a point characteristic of an elf’s ear.

“So it really is an elf? An Elf Necromancer? That’s incredibly rare.” Anthony exclaimed in surprise.

On Ange’s shoulder, the God of Life and the Little Sapling couldn’t help but pop their heads out and look over at the Elf Necromancer.

An undead creature reincarnated from an elf was extremely rare, unless it was a deliberately summoned skeleton or zombie; they’d never seen a sentient witch before.

As for the Undead, since they lacked a physical form, it depended on whether they retained their memories; only if they retained their elven memories from life could they be considered elven Undead, but unfortunately, they had yet to see any self-aware elven Undead.

It didn’t matter that the God of Life stuck its head out; the problem was Anrus almost collapsed on the spot when she saw them, her legs giving out. Elves were creatures of the Divine Tree, even if she had never seen them, she could recognize at a glance what trees these two were.

But everyone’s attention wasn’t on her; they were all surrounding the Elf Necromancer and fiddling with it.

“Eh, it’s a female?” Negris said in surprise, looking at the Necromancer that was being revived and gradually filling out.

Anthony had a deep understanding of this: “Not surprising, as elven females have a higher status. That elf who always comes to drink with me holding up her belt is also female.”

“That’s not just a belt; that’s the waistband of the Holy Armor. To casually make a belt end up like that, elven aesthetics are indeed strange.” Negris commented.

Soon, the Necromancer was revived into a fresh and tender living elf.

“Isn’t this the Great Elf it transformed into? So it was transforming into itself?”

“Quite beautiful. Are all elves this beautiful? The real person is prettier than the illusion, not as valiant as Gailard, but more mature, a bit more chaste.”

Everyone chattered on, while Aesclis was now in a state of shock, staring in disbelief at her delicate hands. She touched her face, then the fleshier parts of her body, whispering, “What… what kind of miracle is this?”

“Miracle? Oh, this is the grace of the Undead God. Would you like to know more? Come on, answer a few of my questions, and I will show you more of our Lord’s miracles.”

Faced with all these incredibilities, Aesclis had long been distraught and at a loss, and it didn’t take long for Anthony to coax the whole story out of her.

It was a sad tale. After the demise of the Tree of Ten Thousand Realms, those Void Elves that once depended on it for survival immediately lost their support. Starved, frozen, seized, and slaughtered by Ancient Gods, their numbers dwindled precipitously.

Their fate was even more tragic than the Plane Elves who had merely lost the God of Life, who had just wandered from home; his essence remained in place, still providing shelter to the Plane Elves.

But the Void Elves truly lost their protection entirely. The Chaos Plane was too perilous. Without the Divine Tree’s shelter, those Void Elves were as harmless in the eyes of Ancient Gods as little white rabbits.

Clutching to the remnants left by the Divine Tree, the Void Elves struggled for survival for hundreds of thousands of years, their numbers steadily decreasing.

However, as their numbers diminished, the lifespan of the Void Elves declined too, within a few generations dropping to around two hundred years. But with the withering of the Divine Tree and the increasingly harsh living conditions, few elves lived out their natural life span.

Despite the shortened lifespans, the elves’ birth rates somehow increased, and their population began to grow once again.

Aesclis was born in such circumstances. By then, it had been hundreds of thousands of years since the death of the Divine Tree.

Aesclis grew, learned, fled for her life, and struggled valiantly to survive. However, danger came anyway. An Ancient God invaded her habitat, destroyed the small settlement she was in, and killed all the elves.

With the death of Aesclis, the story should have ended, but it did not. She came back to life, reborn as an Undead, and the story was just beginning.

Aesclis had no idea why she had become like this, nor what an Undead was. All she knew was that she seemed to have turned into a corpse that could move. Her heart didn’t beat, she didn’t need to breathe, eat, or grow; she would only wither, becoming a dry, shrunken corpse.

Lost and confused, she wandered aimlessly for a long time, until one day, she came to another elf settlement, which had just been destroyed by another Ancient God. Almost all the elves were gone, leaving only ruins. In the ruins, she found a living young elf.

Confused Aesclis suddenly had a new purpose: to raise this young elf. But the Void was cruel–before two years passed, the young elf withered away.

It’s hard to describe Aesclis’s feelings at that time. She felt as if she had lost all connection to the world, and everything became irrelevant. She just knelt there, dumbfounded, staring at the young elf’s corpse for who knows how long.

When she came to her senses again, the young elf’s body had already turned into a pile of bones, merged with the ground, impossible to separate.

“To merge with the stone like that probably takes tens of thousands of years, and the right conditions,” Negris whispered softly.

Aesclis truly didn’t know how many years had passed, but she woke up and began to wander in a daze. Her state was no different from the aimlessly wandering zombies, the only difference being that she could see some flames. Capturing these flames sharpened her mind a bit.

After an unknown period, perhaps having caught enough flames, she suddenly remembered who she was.

“Uh, the flames you’re talking about, wouldn’t happen to be something like this, right? Ange, conjure up a bunch of Soul Flame for her to see,” Negris said.

Ange conjured up a large cluster of Soul Flame.

Aesclis swallowed and nodded, “Yes, that’s it. Is that what you call Soul Flame?”

Negris inhaled sharply, astonished, “You’ve been looking for this stuff all over? It didn’t just float towards you? You found it and then devoured it? Are you a God Eater?”

“Ah? A God Eater? Is that what I’m called?” asked Aesclis confusedly; she didn’t know.

“Ange, give her the Soul Flame, see if she can devour it,” Negris instructed.

Ange handed the Soul Flame over to Aesclis, who took it and crunched it down in a few bites.

Negris took a deep breath and said, “Indeed, she is a God Eater. This is the first God Eater I’ve ever met. Oh, no, the second, for Little Ghost was the first. Lucky she was born in the Chaos Plane. If she’d been in the Master Plane and lived for tens of thousands of years, none of the Gods could have bested her.”

“Offer up souls. If we cannot establish a compulsory Soul Contact, then kill her. We can’t let a God Eater live; they are the natural enemies of the Gods,” Negris commanded.

Having just happily consumed a Soul Flame, Aesclis’s eyes bulged–eating Soul Flame meant death? No more eating for me, I’ll spit it out.