Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

Chapter 469: 276: I'll Vomit if You Chase Me Again_1

Chapter 469: Chapter 276: I’ll Vomit if You Chase Me Again_1
 

Negris blinked, looked at Ange, then at the scythe, and asked in confusion, “Why are you trying to chop it down? It’s not the Demonic Monument. It’s just a stele, aren’t you mistaking it for Turus again?”

If Turus’ soul knew about this, it probably would regret its past actions. Ange’s grudge from his burned fields hasn’t been forgotten.

But Ange didn’t pay any attention to it, instead, he was carefully observing. He raised both feet, where Soul Flame surged, slowly pacing with every step leaving a flaming footprint on the ground.

Looking at Ange’s stance, Negris was skeptical. Before it could say anything, some smoke appeared from nearby, and a face formed, giving an awkward laugh, “Hehe, been a while. How have you all been?”

“Lord of Terror!” Negris’ eyes popped open wide. Not only was there a literal demon, but it was an old acquaintance – the Lord of Terror.

The same Lord of Terror that caused the insect plague in Black Mountain City and lured the sleepless guardians in the Land of Slumber – the haughty Lord of Terror was now being forced out of a decayed stele by Ange?

How to put it? Given that he is referred to as the Lord of Terror, he must be at least of a Demon King level being. In other words, he’s the god among demons.

And indeed, he had done many outrageous things, such as leading the Guardians from the Land of Slumber, resurrecting the pest controller, initiating the insect plague in Black Mountain, summoning the hellhound, and even creating the Terrifying Ghost.

All these deeds proved that he was a bona fide Demon King. He also claimed to be the ruler of the Terror Abyss, a title that would lead anyone to believe he was an overwhelmingly powerful lord of his realm.

And this decayed stele, where the inscriptions had ‘peeled off’, was less impressive than the thatch-roofed house at the entrance of the village. Yet, Ange managed to force the Lord of Terror out from here, akin to forcing a realm lord out of a thatch house.

What on earth happened? Why was the situation so downgraded after a few months of not meeting?

The Lord of Terror laughed awkwardly too. The smoke formed a pair of little hands, rubbing them together as he said, “Why are you here? Hehe, welcome.”

His tone was as polite as it could be – a stark contrast from his arrogance at the fire basin.

Negris hesitated before asking, “Aren’t you the ruler of Terror Abyss?”

The Lord of Terror replied, “Yes, yes, yes. This place is the Terror Abyss.”

“…” Negris turned his head and looked around.

This place was the interior of a massive rock, surrounded by stone walls. But Negris’ spirit could not reach the end, so he was unable to see the walls. His understanding was solely based on Ange’s description.

But everyone knew about Ange’s descriptive skills, as in it’s not scary at all after hearing him.

“You don’t find this scary? Wait till those godlike cows come crying to you when they’re hungry, then you’ll know what’s terrifying!” the Lord of Terror retorted.

Godlike cows? Everyone unconsciously turned to look at the Minotaur Matron.

She had just finished munching on a beet the size of a watermelon, her face smeared with beet juice. When she saw everyone looking at her, she was startled, hid her huge hand behind her, wiped her butt, and flashed a toothy smile.

Nothing seems terrifying after all. Everyone turned back.

The Lord of Terror also noticed the Minotaur Matron and said in surprise, “You’ve been eating beets? Where did you get them?”

Negris interrupted irritably, “Don’t change the subject. What was the deal with the insect plague last time? Why were you able to instigate it? Is this place your real body?”

The Lord of Terror nodded, and obediently answered, “The plague wasn’t my doing, it was the pest controller who initiated it. I merely gave him some small pointers.”

“That’s not correct. He had died. You were the one who resurrected him,” Negris argued.

“No, no, no. He resurrected himself. I just gave him some pointers, advised him on how to prepare and successfully sign a pact, and charged a slight processing fee,” the Lord of Terror refuted.

“I see… You’re a scammer! Just like Anthony, deceitful,” Negris couldn’t help but curse.

This gimmick seemed all too familiar. Not long ago, Anthony had the same plan, using silver coins and Ange’s food to get other people’s money and food. Had it not been for disaster relief, Anthony would have been the biggest scammer in the history of the Master Plane.

“No, no, no.” The Lord of Terror quickly denied, “I simply charged a reasonable consulting fee, because knowledge is the greatest wealth. If I hadn’t told him what materials to prepare, he would be dead. Isn’t it reasonable to charge a small consulting fee and processing fee?”

“Reasonable my…” Before Negris could leap up and smash his head, it suddenly remembered something and deflated like a punctured ball.

It realized that it was doing the same work as this demon, yet Ange never paid it.

Negris’s sudden dejection attracted everyone’s concern. They all gathered around him, inquiring about his condition. Even Little Angel came over and patted his forehead.

“Oh, oh!” After Little Angel finished her barking, she turned around and spread her wings towards the Lord of Terror.

Before the Holy Light Flash, Negris swiftly held back Little Angel, saying helplessly, “I’m a Corpse Dragon, I’m naturally cold. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault.”

The two barks of Little Angel meant ‘completely chilled’, which meant to her that it was dead. No one knew who taught her that completely chilled meant death.

“Huh?” Little Angel tilted her head.