Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

Misha couldn’t help but curl her lip, wanting to retort. This brat didn’t seem old, but talked like an old man. Magic potions had been invented over a thousand years ago, how could one not have encountered them?

Just admit you’re broke without making excuses, but forget it.

Thinking that Durken might be poor, Misha didn’t take the potion back, instead she pulled out a second one and started drinking it. She shifted her gaze back to the battleground, but was shocked by the scene before her.

Luther, surrounded by a substantial aura, had sliced off his opponent’s head with a single sword stroke.

“The…the Ring of Truth? The Sword of Truth?” Misha exclaimed in shock. She had no idea how many times she had been shocked recently. First, there was a mage who could be considered a God of Flames. Now there was a Sword of Truth?

Misha looked back, her eyes sweeping over Durken, Feiti, and Big Cat Flash Hemoer. Could these unremarkable-looking people be of such high power levels?

The Ring of Truth was a visible feature of swordsmen who had achieved the Truth Level. Their every movement was able to tear through space with their battle energy, creating a wave-like radiation, which looked like a half ring of light to the naked eye.

“Oh, this guy has broken through?” Negris exclaimed in surprise.

“Probably stimulated by the beets,” Durken responded with a shake of his head.

“But it is still a breakthrough. He couldn’t achieve the Truth Level when he was eating beets before,” Negris added.

Under the stimulation of the beets, Luther had broken through to the Truth Level. He had knocked Uras flat with a single sword stroke, but was now panting heavily and jogged back. “I can’t go on. I’m exhausted. My muscles almost gave out.”

Once he finished speaking, he sat down on the ground and pulled out a flask of Holy Essence Liquid to drink.

Misha’s eyes widened in shock. As a mage, she knew exactly what that flask was. This was concentrated Holy Essence Liquid, originally costing 1,500 Demon Crystals, but now the price had risen to 1,800 Demon Crystals.

She had a flask of it herself and was considered wealthy. Usually, she only dabbed a bit of it on her face. But this man was actually drinking it?

Looking at the Mana Recovery Potion in her hand, she suddenly felt it was less precious.

Aolong Magister was also shocked. Not only were there Arcanists, but also a Sword of Truth?

However, seeing Luther’s condition, he realized this power level had been forcibly elevated and could not be sustained.

“Good thing, good thing. Otherwise, it would be troublesome. Let’s go at him together, no more playing around,” the Aolong Magister said.

He now regretted not having attacked together sooner. In the midst of the play, a High-level Dragon Swordsman had been lost.

Although he said to go together, only two Swordsman stepped forward. The last one stayed still, protecting the Aolong Magister.

The scales on their bodies flipped up, and the two Dragon Swordsmen rushed forward quickly.

Durken said, “Everyone, let me show you a magic trick.”

As he spoke, he swept up his cloak, which rapidly shrank into itself. Then, Durken and his cloak disappeared altogether.

When he reappeared, there was a cloud of smoke on the left side of the charging path of the Dragon Swordsmen. Before the smoke could disperse, Durken had already thrown out a signal of light, precisely marking the Dragon Swordsman on the left – Alchemy: Constant Spell!

The Dragon Swordsman froze and began to struggle violently.

As Durken emerged from the smoke, he grinned slightly. “Turn into a dragon? I really like transformative powers. How about this, I’ll give you a transformation too.”

As he spoke, he waved his Gold-touch Stick at the immobilized Dragon Swordsman. After a burst of smoke, the Dragon Swordsman was nowhere to be seen, leaving only a green frog behind.

Before anyone could react, Durken quickly charged forward and gave it a strong kick.

The green-skinned frog was kicked far off, tracing a parabola into the swamp outside the town. Mid-flight, the transformative power vanished and he resumed his human form, but already seriously injured, he was barely alive.

Everyone stood rooted to the spot, stunned by Durken’s enigmatic maneuvers. It wasn’t until he bowed and slowly retreated, vanishing into the billows of combat dust, that they regained their senses.

“Kvada, this Alchemy: Constant Spell is all well and good, but why were you able to turn him into a frog? Do you realize how many variables are involved? How did you do it? You’re not a god.” Negris vented out his rage at the retreating Durken, his hand gripping the collar of Durken’s garment.

The Alchemy: Constant Spell, immobilizing a high-level Sword Saint, was already incredible, but this was to some extent understandable—Durken was one of the four owners of the Four Great Subtemples, ranking even slightly higher than Locke.

Previously weak and unstable due to his recent rebirth, he had now recovered nearly half of his strength after a considerable time of recuperation. Imprisoning a high-level Sword Saint was no small feat.

But turning someone into a frog was outrageous—this involved element conversion, which required a massive amount of energy. He was not Ange; he did not have divine power to utilize. How could he have achieved it so effortlessly? Was this some sort of magic trick?

Durken leaned in and said softly, “By borrowing his own Dragon Transformation power, just a little push is all it took. It’s much easier to use his own power to turn him into a frog than to interfere with outside forces.”

Negris was dumbfounded, lost for words. Durken made it sound easy, but it certainly involved lots of techniques and variables—it couldn’t have been as simple as he put it.

But what did it matter? Regardless of the techniques Durken used, the end result was that he did it—he astonishingly transformed a high-level Sword Saint into a frog with magic.

Clearly, this was also no easy feat. After transforming one, Durken promptly stepped back, leaving the other Dragon Swordsman standing there clueless.

Using a power beyond the understanding of ordinary people could easily instill fear into others.

Seeing the opponent stood bewildered, Little Zombie advanced a step and unleashed his ultimate move!

The Breath of Death Shockwave blasted onto the Dragon Swordsman. The black light dispersed, and the Dragon Swordsman surprisingly survived—he held his blade made of fighting spirit in front of him just in time to fend off the Breath of Death Shockwave, his body covered in soot.

A look of alarm had already appeared in the eyes of the Aolong Magister. Every random creature from their side possessed formidable strength. He had originally assumed that there was only one Arcane Magician on the opposing side, the type he was most adept at suppressing.

At this rate, they will lose.

In a hurry, the Aolong Magister hit his magic wand, drawing streaks on the ground. Immediately, rifts in space opened one after another in front of him, and flea monsters charged out of the rifts.

The surged-out flea monsters made a furious leap, charging towards the injured Dragon Swordsman. The limbs on their upper bodies pierced forward forcefully.

The injured Dragon Swordsman took a deep breath, cut the body of the flea monster with a backhand slash, sideswiped another with the blade’s edge, decapitating the second flea monster, but the third one knocked him to the ground, its sharp limbs stabbing into his body.

The Dragon Swordsman roared in anger, fighting spirit burst out, throwing the flea monster off him. But with serious injuries, his movements involuntarily slowed down. He was eventually overwhelmed and gnawed at by the successive flea monsters.

The flea monsters coming up from the rear didn’t hesitate to pounce on their dead counterparts. Only when there were no more corpses did they refocus their attention on Ange and the others.

Negris quickly analyzed, “They don’t discriminate between friend or foe, they don’t even leave their dead counterparts alone. They prioritize feeding over anything else. These creatures are not born for battle, or even for reproduction—since they gnaw at the bodies of their young. These aren’t bugs; what on earth are they?”

Misha turned back, blinking rather cluelessly, “Is everyone just talking? Is anyone going to take action? The Bronze Dragon isn’t fighting. Is it its turn?”

They are all mighty fighters. Being mixed with them, surely the Bronze Dragon isn’t as weak as it appears. Wasn’t it going to make a move?

Should she herself make a move or not? Maybe not, as she was too weak. She didn’t want to embarrass herself.

Just as Misha was caught in her inner struggle, the roar of Ange’s artillery rang out. The condensed exploding fireball, while releasing a thunderous roar of air compression, gave the sensation of being squeezed out.

The speed of the fireball greatly increased, and the ensuing explosion after hitting the target also intensified, forcing back the flea monsters one after another. They staggered to be engulfed by the fireball, and not a single one made it past Ange’s rack of firepower.

The Big Cat, which had been loftier at her position on the lightning gateway, suddenly stood up, elegantly and silently leaping down to the ground.

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