Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton - Chapter 962

Chapter 962: Chapter 534 Can We Refuse? Chapter 962: Chapter 534 Can We Refuse? Anthony smiled knowingly, “That’s the right way to think! How did you figure it out? Couldn’t it be Feiti who captured us?”

“How could that be possible? He’s gone stupid–can’t even talk anymore. It must have been you who erased his mind, turning him into some kind of battle weapon or something,” Arambrough said with a sneer.

Stupid? Feiti felt like smacking him on the head, but, remembering the earlier admonishment, he held back.

“Hehe, you’ve guessed it spot on,” Anthony chuckled, pulling out the Holy Wrapping Cloth, ready to wrap Arambrough in it.

“Wait, wait, what are you doing? What’s this cloth? Why does it feel so weird? Is it clean? Could there be bugs in it?” Arambrough shouted in alarm.

“You’re afraid of bugs? No, no, it’s brand new, woven by the pure hands and feet of saints, and each holy pattern is crafted with different threads that never fade. Apart from the fact that a saint only bathes once in a lifetime, it’s not dirty at all. You’ve never seen this before, have you?” Anthony asked curiously.

Arambrough’s brow furrowed even more: “Now that you’ve mentioned it, it feels even dirtier. What is this thing? Can’t you just not wrap me in it? It’s not like it’s of any use to me.”

“Err, you really don’t know what this is? This is the Holy Wrapping Cloth,” Anthony said.

“Hiss–The Holy Wrapping Cloth that causes one to lose their memory even after being resurrected with the Life Box? Crabapples…” Arambrough didn’t even want to finish his sentence before igniting his Soul Fire.

He had been calm and composed, relying on his ability to be resurrected via the Life Box. Although he knew that the Holy Wrapping Cloth existed from reading about it, he had never seen it with his own eyes and couldn’t recall it at the moment.

Even if he had remembered, it was too late. From the moment Ange had lifted him up, he had lost all possibilities of escape.

Ange grabbed him by the neck, and Soul Energy surged in, forcefully suppressing his Soul Flame back down.

Anthony followed suit and wrapped him up, then said, “Wrapped up, wrapped up, too late now, it’s too late for you to ignite it now.”

Arambrough went limp, relying on Feiti to stand steadily, and murmured in a lost voice, “How did it come to this? How could I have forgotten about the Holy Wrapping Cloth? If I’d known, I would have killed myself in the carriage.”

Anthony pursed his lips, “Don’t boast. You wouldn’t have imagined that we had the ability to sabotage the teleportation either. Of course, you wouldn’t have wanted to kill yourself. From the moment you fell into our hands, you never had a chance to escape.”

“No, the one choking me isn’t a god. He’s suppressing my soul with Soul Fire–he is an Undead creature. Who is he exactly?” Arambrough couldn’t help but exclaim.

“Eh, you didn’t see through that either, hehe, besides Feiti, isn’t there still another Mourner in our ‘Divine Realm’?” Anthony began to mislead.

Arambrough murmured in a daze, “Steadfast Locke? Has Steadfast Locke also been captured by you? Oh my god…”

Pulling him aside, Ange took out the Petrification Crossbow, set it to maximum power, and gave the Stone Dragon a shot.

Ange hardly ever used the Petrification Crossbow because it drained too much energy–the Holy Light it consumed was more than thirty times that of Little Angel’s Holy Light Flash. Of course, a more important reason was that there weren’t any enemies that required him to use the Petrification Crossbow. Even for the Gods of Light, killing was enough.

The Petrification Crossbow slowly lit up, with all five gemstones finally glowing. Ange pulled the trigger, and a beam of light shot out, hitting the Stone Dragon.

Crack–a crisp sound was heard, and one of the five gemstones on the Petrification Crossbow had actually cracked open.

“Oh, oh, oh! The Angel’s Tear actually cracked? This is a big loss, it’s too costly to resurrect you. It’s a Divine Artifact capable of petrifying gods, and now it’s broken, who knows if it can be used again in the future.” Negris sighed deeply, his face showing pain.

Silba was very apologetic: “I’m so sorry, I’m really sorry for damaging the Divine Artifact. Other than my fur, I don’t have anything else to compensate with. Is this the Angel’s Tear? Where can I find them? I will try to get some once I’m reborn.”

“They’re really hard to get. You have to beat a Little Angel to tears while he’s in his six-winged state to have a chance of getting them. These are Tears of a Six-winged Archangel,” Negris lamented.

“……crabapples…”

Before Silba could jump up and beat Negris to a pulp, Ange picked it up and tossed it into the Rebirth altar, and, after a flurry of intense handling, it was done.

If it could wake up, that would mean it had obtained a new body, alive.

If it couldn’t wake up… then another attempt at rescue could be made, seeing what it could be reborn as. With the Undead God here, surely they could protect its consciousness, right?

As expected, six hours later, Silba woke up, like a patient with a deranged nervous system, struggling to get used to his body while trying to retract his tongue, chanting ‘hungry, hungry, hungry’.

Ange tossed him two bags of Elf Beans, which it devoured in two bites, angering the big cat enough to slap its head with a giant paw.

That was not all; it also downed two large barrels of Holy Essence Liquid–a full thirty liters. Now, aside from Ange, everyone began to feel the pain.

Silba licked its tongue and gave everyone a sheepish look: “Is it… very expensive?”

“Of course it’s expensive! Although the prices have dropped a bit, Monica could still sell them for five thousand Demon Crystals a bottle, and one bottle is only a hundred milliliters. You just guzzled three hundred bottles in one go!” Negris said irritably.