Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

Chapter 70: Chapter 66 Wraith Warrior_l

Translator: 549690339

Ange arrived faster than Luther, coming to a pit. Someone was on guard at the entrance, and a group of people were surrounding two workers.

The report said they were dead, but in fact, they were still alive. Both individuals had a knife wound on their necks, and a large amount of fresh blood was gushing out. They were growing increasingly pale, and it seemed they were on the verge of death.

Lisa was helpless on the side. Although her Face Purification Technique had some healing effects, it was mainly used for aesthetic purposes, not for healing. Besides, the technique was only at level one, and was powerless to treat this level of injury.

This was presumably the reason why the report had declared them dead. Injuries like these were fatal in this world.

Ange walked over and took a look. Lisa said anxiously, “The major blood vessel is injured. The blood pressure is too high, the injury will open before it heals. We would need at least a level four Healing Spell to possibly heal the wound instantly.”

“Don’t let it open.” Ange tilted his head.

“Huh?” Lisa was somewhat confused. What did he mean by that? Because it couldn’t heal quickly, that’s why it would burst open. If it wasn’t allowed to open, then wouldn’t that mean it was healed?

Ange squatted down, focusing his thoughts on the wound. The wound twitched slightly, closing in on itself from both sides, as if an invisible hand was pulling the wound together, and the blood slowly stopped.

He summoned the Holy Light with his hand on the wound, a strengthened version of Lisa’s Face Purification Technique quickly healed the wound several times faster. When the wound was completely healed, Ange relaxed his thoughts; the pressure at the wound couldn’t break through the injury anymore.

With the help of his intentions, it was like having an invisible hemostat. The bleeding was stopped, and then the treatment was carried out. The two injured were temporarily rescued. However, they had lost too much blood, and it was still unknown whether they could survive.

“Is that all it takes?” Lisa, a bit surprised by Ange’s casual attitude, quietly asked Feilin, “Can your intentions make the wound contract?”

Feilin shook his head: “No, the master’s soul is too powerful.”

After healing the injured, Ange summoned his great scythe and led everyone into the pit.

Inside there was a pitch-black hallway, with exquisite reliefs on all sides. At intervals, there were sculptures hung on the walls.

As soon as Negris saw this, he warned, “Be careful of those sculptures. They’re gargoyles.”

“Roar!” The Little Zombie let out a roar, and a flying tackle smashed one of the sculptures into dust that fell to the ground.

Negris roared in anger, “I told you to be careful, not to smash it!”

But the smashed sculpture also showed their state. After being buried for thousands of years, these gargoyles had become inert.

“Roar!” The Little Zombie didn’t care about Negris, it let out a cry and charged at another sculpture.

During this time in the wild, the Little Zombie had benefited the most. Every night it would reach out its hand into the Resting Wind, just like Ange.

At first, it only dared to extend one finger, touch it briefly, and then pull back. Soon, it dared to hold its finger out continuously.

The cold breath in the Resting Wind refined its soul and strengthened its flesh. Although it still looked like a Tough Skin Zombie, the sturdiness of its body had already reached the level of a Copper Skin Zombie, and it did not have the issue of bone loss.

If it hadn’t been for Ange’s example, a necromancer of this level would never dare to expose their body to the Resting Wind. Because they didn’t know the benefits, and only knew that the cold atmosphere was uncomfortable for the soul.

But without enduring hardships, how can one have a strong build? One must bear hardships to reach an excellent result among all zombies.

Another collision caused the sculpture on the opposite wall to shatter into pieces.

Just as the Little Zombie was getting ready to tackle the third sculpture, it turned into smoke and disappeared. The Little Zombie bumped directly into the wall instead.

“Everyone, be careful.” Negris had just issued a warning when the Holy Light suddenly illuminated the hands of the nearby Angel Skull and charged a punch.

Clang! There was nothing in front of him, but it obviously hit something. The sound of ‘clang’ rang out. The glow on the hands of the Angel Skull also brightened for a moment upon collision, casting a vague shadow.

Before anyone could get a clear look at what it was, another fist from Angel Skeleton struck, with a clanging collision sound.

Both fists of Angel Skeleton worked like repetitive firecrackers, incessantly striking with a continuous chain of collision sounds.

Its typical roughhousing with Little Zombie was not just playing around. Many creatures learned their combat and hunting skills through such play.

Through the constant collisions and flashes of light, they managed to see who Angel Skeleton’s opponent was. It was a humanoid shape made of smoke, holding two shadow-like daggers, striking swiftly.

“It’s a Wraith Warrior!” Negris, who got a clearer look, promptly warned.

Ange looked towards it, tilting his head.

Negris sighed, “You don’t know what a Wraith Warrior is, do you?”

Ange nodded.

“Do you know what a Wraith is? Do you remember Feilin’s little pet, Black Face? Do you know what a Black Warrior is? A Wraith Warrior is similar to a Black Warrior. They’re spiritual bodies that have a physical form. The difference is that Wraith Warriors have no intelligence, whereas Black Warriors do. It’s like the difference between zombies and witches.”

“For guardians and the like, it’s probably for the best that they don’t have intelligence. If intelligent souls had to stay here for thousands of years, they’d probably have run off long ago.” After stating this, Negris complained, “I am the God of Knowledge, not the God of common sense. Don’t always ask me about common sense things.”

“Oh, where did the lord go?” Ange immediately thought of a question that he really wanted to know but wasn’t common knowledge.

“…” If it weren’t for his knowledge of Ange’s character, Negris would have thought he was doing it on purpose. Who else would rub salt into someone else’s wounds like this?

During the conversation between Ange and Negris, the fight between Angel Skeleton and the Wraith Warrior reached a fever pitch. The Holy Light in the hands of Angel Skeleton clashed hard against the shadowy spikes of the Wraith Warrior, not backing down at all, instead pushing the enemy steadily backward.

The Wraith Warrior retreated step by step to the wall. When there was no space left to retreat, it dissolved into a cloud of smoke.

Angel Skeleton’s punch hit empty space, smashing into the wall with a loud bang, almost cracking it and making Little Zombie shudder a bit.

With a sudden spread of wings, Angel Skeleton took flight, reaching out to grab the cloud of smoke and forcefully slinging it onto the ground.

Ordinary angels might not have been able to track the movements of Wraith Warriors, but what stood in front of them was not an ordinary angel but a skeleton clothed in an angel’s skin, observing the world with its soul.

The Wraith Warrior, skilled in shadow concealment and assassination, was no match for the battle-hungry Battle Angel when its movements were seen through. Its fate was sealed.

The Wraith Warrior, tossed back to the ground, was bombarded by the Holy Light-encased fists of Angel Skeleton until it burst into fragments.

Having obliterated its enemy, Angel Skeleton came running back, raising its small fist for Ange to see. There was a damaged wound on it, probably caused by the punch on the wall.

Ange cast Healing Spell on it, while his other hand, holding the Scythe of Death, stretched forward to pull back a Soul Flame.

Angel Skeleton had demolished the Wraith Warrior but hadn’t killed it. If it were allowed to recover, it would pose a huge threat to ordinary people.

In the hallways behind them, they didn’t encounter any more enemies. Time is indeed the greatest enemy of all, as even the undead souls sometimes struggle to survive its eroding effects.

However, it’s more likely that they disappeared with the lord.

At the end of the hallway, they faced a thick wall. There were no visible switches or buttons, and even souls couldn’t pass through it.

“How do we open this door?” Ange asked Negris. This shouldn’t be common knowledge.

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