Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

Chapter 443: Chapter 262 Plane Right Certificate_2

Even if they have scoured these areas, it would not be possible to scrape together one hundred thousand tons of grain. Plus, the people in these areas need to eat, too.

However, there’s a need to address the dire situation. They can’t just stand by and watch so many people die. If the famine is not controlled, at least a few million people in the Eastern Diocese will die. If you add the plague, tens of millions of people might die in the coming months, and it would inevitably lead to unrest.

Anthony had seen this happen many times in the past thousand years. In eras of insufficient productivity, population was regulated this way.

What’s different this time is that Anthony found himself able to struggle. After all, the Undead God was there.

If not one hundred thousand tons, then fifty thousand would do. Even thirty thousand tons would not be impossible. Even if it’s just ten thousand tons, it could save some people, right?

“Just get to the point. Don’t explain anything else; Lord Ange doesn’t care to hear it. Just say what you will offer in exchange for one hundred thousand tons of grain,” Negris advised Anthony.

Anthony found this advice to be sound, gave Negris a thumbs-up in appreciation, and then turned to Ange, “My Lord, I request your support of one hundred thousand tons of grain. I’m willing to offer one hundred thousand people in exchange.”

Negris, who had just given Anthony advice, exploded upon hearing this, “Anthony, you’re shameless. Not only do you want grain, but you also want to dump the disaster-stricken populace on us? How can you be so two-faced?”

Anthony nonchalantly replied, “Lord Nage, you misunderstand. How could people be a burden? Among these hundred thousand people are craftsmen, farmers, young and strong men, women, and so on. They could perfectly make up for the lack of population under your command. Even if they breed naturally, it would take another five hundred years to fill the Resting Abyss.”

“Why would we want to fill the Resting Abyss?” Negris asked, confused.

“Where there are people, there is faith. If the Undead Temple has tens of millions of believers, my Lord could become a being like His Majesty. Perhaps that could unseal you,” Anthony replied.

Negris wasn’t convinced by Anthony’s arguments at first and sneered dismissively, forcing Anthony to switch tactics at the last moment.

“Unseal? The seal on the Bronze Book?” Negris asked in a despondent tone.

Anthony fell silent. Negris had almost forgotten he was still in a sealed state. Being projected onto a dragon embryo every day, other than a lack of physical sensation, seemed to have no effect on his emotional life; his relationship with Naeli was getting better and better.

The only problem was that Naeli was growing larger in size and often broke his bones. Although it wasn’t painful, it was still very troublesome.

“Yes, don’t you yearn for freedom?” Anthony asked.

Negris took a deep breath, spat out words angrily in Anthony’s face: “I desire to be free of your nonsense! I’m already far too old! Are you hoping I die when the seal is removed? What does freedom matter if I have no life left! If you want me dead just say so, let my great-grandson smother you!”

“No, no, no, Lord Nage. I meant, don’t you want to unseal the Bronze Book? Not your seal, but the book’s seal. It’s a divine book, don’t you want to wield it as a weapon? It’s very powerful.”

Anthony shielded his face from Negris’s spit as they spoke in Ange’s consciousness space. Although their images were virtual, it was still disgusting.

Usually, when Anthony saw ingredients like dragon saliva in magic potions, he would refuse to consume them. Dragon saliva is just dragon spit, isn’t it? How filthy.

“The book’s seal?” Negris was stunned.

“Yes, the book’s seal. The seal on the Bronze Book.”

“What can be done after it’s unsealed?” Negris asked.

“Smash people with it. I don’t know anything else, but if it can seal you, it should be able to seal weaker gods, right?” Anthony responded.

Negris could not help but frown in contemplation, “Are there gods weaker than me?”

However, Negris quickly snapped back, “Almost got tricked by you, Kobold. We’re discussing your proposal of trading grain for people. You’re not only trying to get rid of the burden but also get grain in return. No deal. Ange’s grain does not grow on water!”

Anthony shrugged, “Then I’ll have to buy it with money. How about two hundred thousand demon crystals?”

“Pfft, that’s not even worth as much as one hundred thousand people. Are you trying to rip me off?” Negris replied.

“My lord, after all this is just grains, how much are you expecting to sell it for?” Anthony was also at a loss for words.

Indeed, although grains are crucial, their prices are not high. Initially, Ice City purchased grains from the Master Plane at merely one demon crystal per tonne. Anthony guessed the grains to be purchased are from Fallen Dragon Lake, and not across dimensions. Being able to offer two demon crystals is already a high price, at least five times the usual price of grains.

Items that do not involve gods and magic, and can be mass-produced, essentials needed by ordinary citizens, are certainly not expensive.

Yet Negris obviously sees this transaction as insignificant, thinking it’s not even worth a population of a hundred thousand.

“How about a hundred thousand people plus two hundred thousand demon crystals then? If you’re not satisfied with this price, then you’re simply exploiting me.” Anthony muttered under his breath.

“Bah!” Faced with Anthony’s attempts to play innocent even after gaining an advantage, Negris could only protest: “I don’t care anymore, ask Ange. I don’t even know if he can provide a hundred thousand tonnes of grain.”

Anthony turned to Ange and said, “My lord, I hope to purchase a hundred thousand tonnes of grain with a hundred thousand people and two hundred thousand demon crystals. Is that alright?”

Ange tilted his head, soared directly into the air, and the Ring of Balance appeared around him. He pointed to a piece of waterless magic rice in the waterway, saying: “Seven thousand tonnes.”

He then flew to another area, pointed to that region, and said: “Fifteen thousand tonnes.”

Flying and pointing along the way, tallying up the amounts, it quickly added to seventy-five thousand tonnes.

Anthony was already stunned. How long has Ange been in this plane? How did he manage to cultivate so much grain? And they’re even cultivated on the water surface? That’s too miraculous, isn’t it?

The figure of 75,000 tonnes has already far exceeded his expectations. When Ange flew to a rice field that was not yet mature, Anthony hurriedly said: “That’s about enough, a little less is also fine, a little less is also fine.”

Ange ignored him, landed directly on a floating gel board, stomped his footprints hard, and the rice field grew quickly, blooming, bearing fruit, maturing.

Following the same process several times, Ange pointed to the last floating gel board and said: “One hundred thousand tonnes.”

Anthony’s weary face turned into a mix of pain and joy. His joy stemmed from the resolution of the most headache-inducing problem, but the agony was, with so much grain, how was he going to transport them all back?

A few days later, a group of Paladins were teleported to the Light Sea Plane, presenting a document to the person in charge on Light Island, the slippery priest.

“Relocated? Why would you want to relocate us out of the blue?” The priest was incredulous.

Although being sent to another plane, fraught with hardships and lacking in entertainment, also meant being away from the hub of power struggles, no one to oversee them, life had been very comfortable. Why suddenly relocate them without any reasons?

“We also don’t know, Father. We’re just carrying out orders. These are commands personally issued by His Holiness Pope Anthony.” Said the Paladin with a stern face.

The priest hurriedly grasped the Paladin’s hand. A little token of appreciation slid into the Paladin’s sleeve unnoticed.

The Paladin’s expression softened a little, whispered: “There’s a big shot interested in this plane. There’s not much to gain from this place, so you better leave quickly. The big shot mentioned he will arrange a good position for you once you’re back.”

A big shot?! The priest immediately thought of the big shot on the swaying airship above the sea, accompanied by a young female adventurer just four months ago. Could it be him?

A plane where the Church of Light’s influence is not dominating, was readily given up; within a few days, the several hundred people on the Light Sandbank evacuated cleanly, leaving only the adventurers behind.

Then, two figures shrouded in mantles arrived here through the teleportation array. Instead of getting on a boat, they ran straight onto the sea, and a horse emerged under them, spreading a trail of death across the water all the way to the distance.

“Polk? Why are you two here?” They recognized the two black warriors under Anthony’s command.

“His Majesty has sent us here to present a gift to Lord Ange, the Plane Right Certificate, which acknowledges this plane as belonging to Lord Ange in the name of the Holy Church. Unless you want to be an enemy of the Holy Church, do not deny its ownership. However, to avoid any suspicion, His Majesty has registered it under the name of the King of Mercenaries – Vegetable Bone.”

Polk knelt, lifting the object in his hand high above his head.