Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton Chapter 1146 - 1146 710 Please Allow Me to Strangle These

Chapter 1146: Chapter 710: Please Allow to Strangle These Stupid Elves Chapter 1146: Chapter 710: Please Allow to Strangle These Stupid Elves Following that voice, it didn’t take long before he saw the source of the “voice”, a giant face embedded in the rock wall. The face might have been about ten ters wide with tightly shut eyes, its features partially turned to stone, and its mouth invisible. If it weren’t for the “voice” emanating from it, it would be hard to tell it was a face.

“It’s not a voice; it’s the sa kind of ssage as from Little Sapling, but it’s so strong that it feels like there’s an actual voice,” Negris said.

Hearing soone calling it, Little Sapling popped out from Ange’s shoulder, looked around, and focused on the face, waving its True Leaves excitedly: grow—strong—grow—strong—

The face didn’t notice anyone had entered, nor did it hear Negris speak, but it was exceptionally sensitive to the ssages sent by Little Sapling, and it trembled as it opened its eyes.

Perhaps because the eyes had been closed for so long, so parts had stuck together and bits of eyelid peeled off and fell as they opened.

When its gaze fell upon Little Sapling, it sent out an excited ssage: “A new Divine Tree? The new Tree of Ten Thousand Realms? Has it finally grown? Master God…”

Then it noticed the God of Life, who was sluggishly erging from Ange’s other shoulder, and the ssage instantly beca chaotic: “Two? Two new Divine Trees? Two Lords… Lord… Lord…”

The God of Life looked at the face hazily and said, “It seems to be a Tree Herder, a Tree Herder of my father’s strain, perhaps?”

“A Tree Herder? Such a large one? My goodness, its face alone is this huge; how large must it have been in full?” exclaid Negris, astounded.

Since there was no gravity in the void, all objects had a tendency to beco gigantic—not to ntion Giant Beasts like the Serpent of Misfortune and the Primordial Ancient Dragon, even seashells could grow as big as planes.

Thus, both the War Giant Trees and Void Chiras were much larger than their counterparts within the planes.

But this was also why they couldn’t leave the Chaos Plane—too large to sustain, they ate too much, and the barren void couldn’t support such Giant Beasts.

The Tree Herder looked at the God of Life and then at Little Sapling, hesitatingly saying, “I feel the aura of the Divine Tree on both of you. Are you a descendant of the Divine Tree? And what about that one?”

“It is my descendant,” the God of Life said affectionately.

Little Sapling gestured: grow—strong—grow—strong—

The Tree Herder, puzzled, said, “You haven’t even withered, and you already have a descendant? This… um, Little Tree God, please stop your growth praise, I’m too hungry, I can’t grow, I’m so hungry—”

Little Sapling sent a confused ssage, folded its True Leaves, and tilted its head.

Ange explained to it: “Hungry, water, fertilizer.”

Little Sapling sent a ssage of sudden understanding and waved its True Leaf at Ange: water—water—fertilizer—fertilizer—

How could Ange refuse? He quickly took out a mixture of bird droppings, wood ash, and Insect Ash Liquid, tossed it onto the Tree Herder’s face with a splat, splashing several clumps, then drew out several cubic ters of water from the Dinsional Space and poured it all over the face.

The Tree Herder’s face absorbed all of the water like a sponge, slurping up every drop, not spilling a single one to the “ground.”

Of course, mainly because there was no gravity here, it was hard to tell which side was the “ground.”

After absorbing the water and fertilizer, the Tree Herder perked up, amazed, saying, “Such smooth fertilizer, hardly any excess components, all absorbable, it’s marvelous.”

Negris’s tail nearly curled up in pride as she said, hands on hips, “Heh, of course, this is the God of Farming’s specially mixed fertilizer.”

“The God of Farming?” Perhaps after absorbing the water and fertilizer, the Tree Herder seed to perk up a bit, eyeing everyone before finally resting its gaze on Ange.

“Thanks to the God of Farming, I haven’t absorbed such nutrient-rich fertilizer in hundreds of thousands of years. I was nearly completely petrified,” said the Tree Herder.

Hundreds of thousands of years? Petrification? Everyone glanced around the rock walls, speculating whether they were ford by the petrified body of the Tree Herder.

Only the God of Life picked up on another keyword: “Praise of growth? Besides Praise of Life, there is also Praise of Growth?”

The Tree Herder, looking at the God of Life, said, “You seem to have lost much of your legacy. How old are you?”

“Ninety-one thousand years old,” replied the God of Life.

Negris couldn’t help but roll her eyes, rembering the old joke about being “near death, with only nine thousand years left”. Kvada, so lower status Giant Dragons didn’t even live to be nine thousand years old, while for the God of Life, it signified nearing death.

“So young, no wonder you’ve lost so of your legacy. Since the Tree of Ten Thousand Realms perford the Praise of Death, fifty-thousand years have passed, and I’ve nearly petrified into silicified wood,” the Tree Herder sighed.

Its words caused Negris to stumble a bit in shock. Well, next ti, she decided not to discuss lifespan with these trees and bones.

“Praise of Death? What’s that?” The God of Life now was rarely perplexed.

Ever since Little Sapling planted a part of itself in Iron Sand City, the God of Life had only a vague recollection of the Praise of Life. And now hearing about Praise of Growth and Praise of Death, it felt utterly confused.

It rembered nothing from its childhood (ten thousand years ago); inheritance and such were all very fuzzy. Every now and then, it might recall sothing, but most of its experiences were accumulated over its long lifespan.

It did, however, pass these experiences on to Little Sapling, so it occasionally wondered whether its own parent tree had done the sa for it during its childhood.

However, the tilines didn’t match up. One could tell from Divine Wood Continent that the Tree of Ten Thousand Realms likely withered hundreds of thousands of years ago. Now, this guess was confird by the words of the Tree Herder, who said the Tree of Ten Thousand Realms died five hundred thousand years ago.

“Praise of Death is the mystery of the Tree of Ten Thousand Realms. I don’t know what it is exactly; you need to explore it on your own, as you are the new Divine Tree,” the Tree Herder said leisurely.

These two trees were having a conversation, and it was painfully slow. Anthony couldn’t stand it anymore and interrupted, “Uh, excuse , did the Tree of Ten Thousand Realms wither after the Praise of Death?”

The Priest replied, “Yes, after the Praise of Death, the Divine Tree withered.”

Muttering to himself as he stepped back, Anthony said, “I understand now, you’re telling the God of Life to go die.”

The thought processes of these plants were truly bewildering. If Praise of Death resulted in death, and they were asking the God of Life to explore it, wasn’t that like sending it to its death?

“The Praise of Death is not really death, but rather… forget it, I can’t understand it either. Thank you for the fertilizer, God of Farming; I feel much better, I’m about to die…”

“Pfft…” Negris couldn’t help but snort with laughter. All these creatures seed to be cut from the sa cloth, always on the brink of death without any logic. One mont they’re saying ‘I feel much better,’ and the next they’re about to die. How can you ‘feel much better’ if you’re going to die?

But as the Tree Herder spoke, it slowly closed its eyes, and the breath of life quickly faded from its being.

“Ah? Are you really dying? Hey, hey, hey, is there so mistake? Don’t die, how can I save you?” Negris started to panic.

She had never seen such a resolute Tree Person; she thought it would drag out its death for at least a few thousand years like the God of Life would, but it died just after speaking?

“This…” Negris’ words couldn’t bring back the life of the Tree Herder, whose presence still completely vanished. Unsure of what to do and suddenly feeling a tug at her back.

Turning around, she saw Anthony signaling her with his eyes. Negris looked over to see Ange expressionless, and the God of Life appeared dazed and indifferent.

The God of Life had accepted the inheritance from the Tree of Ten Thousand Realms but hadn’t digested much of it, remaining in a heavy stupor.

Only Seedling was enthusiastically waving its True Leaf: grow——strongly——

This didn’t seem like soone on the verge of death. If you did this at a funeral, the family would beat you up.

Just then, Negris felt sothing; turning her head again, she saw a green sprout suddenly erging on the Tree Herder’s face, growing rapidly and soon producing a bud.

The bud showed just a hint before it wilted, too lazy even to bloom, as blooming was for pollination, and fruits would not form in flowers but on the floral stem.

After the bud wilted and fell, the stem swelled quickly, forming a large fruit around five or six ters in diater, then dropping to the ground.

The fruit split open, and a ten-ter-high Tree Herder climbed out; the whole process took less than three minutes.

“This… So this was how you ‘die’?” Negris didn’t know what to say.

The Tree Herder said leisurely, “Decaying wood gives birth to beautiful fungi. Death is the continuation of new life. I have been reborn. Thank you, God of Farming. Your water and nutrients have given the energy to be reborn. The growth praise of the Little Tree God has given a fresh start.”

Negris was at a loss for words; her understanding of life and death was completely different from these plants’, making the topic impossible to discuss any further.

The Tree Herder slowly walked over, bent slightly at the waist, and extended its arm. Its fingers stretched out towards Little Sapling like tendrils, and a vibrant green leaf grew out: “Master God, the Tree Elf Trent offers you its Heart of the Plant.”

Little Sapling looked bewilderedly to Ange.

The God of Life spoke up, “Take it. It’s offering you everything, seeking your protection. It’s Seedling’s growth praise that has allowed it to be reborn.”

Ange accepted the green leaves and checked them over without noticing anything amiss, so he attached them to Little Sapling’s branches.

Yah——yah—— Little Sapling seed uncomfortable, repeatedly twisting its head to look at the green leaf.

Seeing that Little Sapling had accepted its leaf, Trent returned to its original spot and began to dig into the ground, piercing the rock with a stab of its hand. Nurous roots sprouted from its hand, embedding into the rock and, with a twist, shattered it—almost more effective than the Earth Hamr.

Negris watched in horror. Kvada, was this still a ‘Herding’ Tree Person? The reborn Trent was only ten ters tall, smaller even than its pre-death face. If it was the original Tree Herder, could it not just dismantle a plane with its bare hands? Was this even a Tree Herder anymore?

At that mont, a voice ca from outside the tunnel: “There’s a disturbance. Intruders are desecrating the Holy Land; what do we do, Your Majesty? Should we go in?”

An authoritative female voice answered, “Enter, but be wary of the rotting, wailing Tree Monster.”

The rotting, wailing Tree Monster? Upon hearing this appellation, everyone instinctively looked at Trent.

Trent radiated anger: “God of Tree, allow to strangle these foolish Elves. I said I was hungry, and they thought I was wailing; I was petrifying, and they thought I was rotting. Damn fools…”