Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton Chapter 1487: 1048: Still the Familiar Lady Lisa

Chapter 1487: Chapter 1048: Still the Familiar Lady Lisa

What’s scarier than Lightning blocking the door and swearing at you is the Minotaur Aunt’s broom. But even more terrifying than that is a bunch of won gossiping about you during beauty treatnts—their destructive power far surpasses Negris’ relentless nagging.

Soone says you like won, and imdiately others speculate you like strong won. Soon, a detailed analysis erges, claiming you like won who are strong, followed by counterargunts suggesting you might prefer strong female pig-headed creatures. Then, a heated debate ensues about whether pig-headed creatures have human bodies and pig heads or pig bodies with human heads. Finally, the conclusion is drawn: you like sow-people.

When you hear this news, you’re totally baffled. What the heck? Sow-people exist in this world?

So, never let a group of won think about you while they’re in the middle of beauty treatnts. In order to avoid ruinous scandals, Anthony and the others quickly shut their eyes, turn their heads away, and awkwardly float toward the exit, muttering, “Oh dear, I can’t find my eyes! Oh no, I can’t see; what happened?”

Only Ange stands there, inexplicably staring at them.

With the fastest speed possible, Lisa channels Holy Light to create a flowing long dress before bowing to Ange. “Greetings, my lord.”

She then calls out to the others, “Alright, co back now. Lord Anthony, what happened here? Where is this place? Why did you summon ?”

The others float back into the room. Anthony doesn’t answer imdiately but instead poses a question: “This is a long story. Lady Lisa, how are things at ho right now?”

“Everything is fine back ho. The Dinsional World is becoming increasingly stable, and its area has expanded quite a bit. The Pillar of Creation has stopped generating excessive growth, so the Dinsional World’s operations are stabilizing. By the way, my lord, did you slow down the operational speed of the Dinsional World?” Lisa turns to Ange and asks.

Ange nods. After consuming the Ancient Godlight, there’s no longer a need to accelerate the Dinsional Space—otherwise, it would only result in unnecessary energy depletion.

Moreover, with his projection of consciousness here, there’s no way for him to keep a continuous watch on the Dinsional Space. If the pace were too fast and it suddenly collapsed, he’d be unable to react in ti.

With the speed lowered now, even if the Dinsional World were to crumble, it would take tens or hundreds of years, giving him ample ti to respond.

“No wonder you called for so quickly this ti. I suspected there was a change in the operational speed,” Lisa says.

The Dinsional Space took over ten thousand years to stabilize. Anthony, Durken, and others who entered it later have only experienced twenty years inside, while pioneers like Lisa had already spent over ten thousand years in it—even Negris, who planted trees together with Little Bone for many years.

In these ten thousand years, so chose to beco Undead beings, sleeping periodically, while others opted for Rebirth.

Among those who chose Rebirth, so retained their mories like Lisa and Feilin, while others wiped their mories clean and started anew, like Vania and Sava.

For those retaining mories, they typically waited decades or hundreds of years before undergoing Rebirth again. Living for ten thousand years straight would be unbearably tedious otherwise.

Many long-lived species, like Giant Dragons—whose lifespans span tens of thousands of years—spend most of their ti sleeping. They snooze for over ten hours a day, hibernate during winter, and sotis sleep for years on end, oblivious even when adventurers break into their lairs.

They are awake only sporadically because prolonged wakefulness is terribly boring. The greatest enemy of long-lived species isn’t mortality—it’s boredom.

Elves, whose lifespans aren’t extraordinarily long, have turned the art of detail refinent into an obsession, pouring their ti into creating art. Dwarves, on the other hand, have embraced alcohol; being drunk banishes boredom.

As for Undead beings, they take boredom to an extre—they can sleep for decades or centuries at a ti. Those who dislike sleeping, like the Witch Durken—a King of Alchemy and Chief of the Wandering Opera Troupe—or even the Great Sage, beco hobbyists obsessed with building their territories.

Only humans, the short-lived species, truly cherish their ti, making their fleeting decades of life far more vibrant than the millennia of other species.

After a pause, Lisa adds, “By the way, Hole Bug left the Dinsional Space, but who knows where it went?”

“What? Hole Bug left? Where did it go?” Negris gasps.

Ange freezes for a mont, realizing this himself just now. After so thought, he hesitates and says, “Maybe it’s looking for .”

“It’s coming here for you? Can it traverse the Boundless Space Hole?” Negris asks.

Ange nods. Among all the Origins, the only one capable of crossing the Boundless Space Hole unassisted is Hole Bug, whose power is derived directly from space itself. Even if it had to gnaw its way across bit by bit, it could theoretically span the Boundless Space Hole—though how many years it would take is anyone’s guess.

Its sudden departure likely ans it’s searching for its old dinner companion. The problem, however, is that Ange’s true form is still in the Chaos Plane. How did Hole Bug figure out where Ange’s consciousness projection is?

None of them are qualified to worry about a Void Origin, especially one as formidable as Hole Bug—when enraged, it nearly devoured the Ancient Godlight itself. After exchanging a few words, they quickly move on to the next topic.

“Little Angel and Little Zombie have been looking for you everywhere,” Lisa says.

A visible crease lines Ange’s entire face, his expression marked by deep distress. He reluctantly nods.

Everyone silently exchanges glances with each other, each harboring inner delight. It’s rare to see Ange troubled like this—evidently only those two little ones can give him a true headache.

Once Lisa finishes summarizing the situation back ho, it’s Anthony’s turn to explain the circumstances here. He hasn’t said much before Lisa’s eyes start sparkling:

“What?! Hundreds of thousands of wise Undead? An image-conscious Mourning Necromancer waiting for to… uh, bring her aesthetic pleasures? My goodness, I’m utterly fascinated!”

Lisa eagerly rubs her hands together, brimming with enthusiasm and seemingly ready to wield the power of the Goddess of Beauty imdiately. Still, her curiosity gets the better of her: “Why are there so many wise Undead here?”

Anthony answers, “I’d like to know that as well. It’s sothing you need to pay close attention to. Observe how they’re different from us—the most notable distinction is the presence of Chaos Essence impurities in their souls.”

Lisa nods in understanding before Anthony sends a ssage for Durken to bring soone back.

Not long after, Durken returns with Deke, who wears a white robe and is fully limbed.

Fully limbed? Negris and several others look at Durken with puzzled expressions.

Durken leans in and whispers, “Without updates from you guys, I asured the dinsions for her. She wanted to co back after that, so I asked if she was interested in alchemical prosthetics. Turns out she was keen, so I made her one. The problem is her power—it’s too intense for ordinary alchemical items to withstand.”

While Durken chats on one side, Lisa approaches Deke, lanting with profound regret:

“Oh dear, what’s wrong with your skin condition? Do you never take care of it? What do you use to wash your face? Do you not wash your face at all? Heaven forbid! That’s your face! How could you possibly treat it this way? Oh, my Goddess of Beauty, you’re simply squandering the body bestowed upon you by the divine—wasting one of the most breathtaking sights in existence! Co now, let give you the full pampering treatnt…”

Lisa’s barrage of words leaves Deke completely stunned. Who even are you?

The others laugh knowingly—it’s the sa familiar rhetoric, the sa familiar routine, and, of course, the sa familiar Lady Lisa.