Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

“Er, Sir, shouldn’t we prepare a bit?” Seeing Ange grabbing his child and recklessly drawing a knife, looking as if he was ready to get down to business, made Brand’s scalp tingle. Just like that, he was going to start? No preparations?

When he observed some priests performing high-level healing in the past, they always purified their bodies with fragrant baths, calmed their minds, cleared the surroundings, and only then dared to start. Sometimes, even with all these preparations, they could still fail due to various distractions.

Ange hadn’t made any preparations at all, and immediately went for a big move. By the look of it, was he planning to chop off his son’s foot?

Ange shook his head: “No need.”

He pulled Brand’s son’s foot towards him, ready to chop it off. Brand grabbed Ange, wearing a mournful expression: “Or maybe we don’t heal him, let’s not.”

In these times, a cut wasn’t a trivial matter, severe bleeding could cause the body’s blood to drain dry; given the poor sanitary conditions, even a small wound could lead to infections, ulcers, sepsis, and death. Let alone cutting off a leg.

In the beginning, he agreed too quickly, without considering thoroughly. Now having thought about it, doing nothing may be better. His son was alive and well; if something went wrong during treatment, his son could die. The risk was too great, especially when seeing Ange’s untrustworthy demeanor, which made Brand even more uneasy.

Rather than taking such a risk, it was better not to treat him.

“Oh.” Ange responded nonchalantly, but was interrupted by Negris. Negris spoke to him through his soul: “No, he must be treated. He is already growing distrustful of you, you cannot let it go. You must cure him and break this distrust.”

Brand’s son, Little Brand, was very brave and firmly told his father: “I want treatment!”

Brand thought it was better to limp than to take risks, but his son didn’t think so. Little Brand saw it better to die than to limp for life.

Little Brand understood very clearly: this Magician, who was much more powerful than his father, was treating him now. This was an opportunity that couldn’t be sought after. Even if he made it to Holy Wall City, without potentially hundreds of demon crystals to grease the wheels, he wouldn’t even be able to see a Magician eligible to treat him.

This was a god-given opportunity that he must cherish.

Looking at his son’s resolute expression, Brand mournfully said: “Or, could we, could we clean the knife a bit first?”

Actually, under the purification spell, it didn’t matter if the knife was clean or not. It wouldn’t cause the wound to become infected or fester. But since the client had made this request, and there was nothing to lose, Ange invoked the holy light and casually smeared it on the knife.

The rust and blood stains on the old, rusty knife all disappeared instantly under the smear of the holy light

For some stains that had seeped into the material of the knife, Ange pointed his finger, and after a session of the face purification technique, it was clean again.

This deed gave Brand slightly more confidence. Just as he was about to grit his teeth and look away, Ange swung the knife. Little Brand’s lame foot flew up before his eyes.

Even if he saw someone else being chopped into seventeen or eighteen pieces, Brand could keep his eyes open without blinking. But this was his son! His legs weakened, and he almost sat down on the ground, fortunate to have someone behind him supporting him.

Everyone was actually quite curious. They did not feel the same urgency as Brand, so they could observe more.

“Hey, Little Brand didn’t even move. He didn’t scream either. Doesn’t it hurt?”

“The Holy Light must be soothing him.”

Ange had experience treating lameness for others. He had severed Little Brand’s nerve early on, so there was no feeling of pain, of course, he wouldn’t shout.

Tossing aside the cut-off lame foot, Ange opened the Holy Essence Liquid, poured it on the severed part, cast the face purification technique, and a miracle unfolded before the eyes of many paladins.

With Ange’s ability, growing a limb back from the base of the ankle would take about an hour. Throughout the process, he needed to continuously cast the face purification technique to make sure the growth process was not interrupted.

If interrupted, the wound would scab over, and then he would have to scrape off the scab and start again, much more time-consuming and laborious, causing more consumption and pain for the sufferer.

That’s why even a level 8 Paladin couldn’t find anyone to treat his son. Who could perform healing magic non-stop for an hour like Ange?

To achieve effects comparable to Ange’s, it would require more than a dozen priests, along with the Holy Essence Liquid that would sell for over a thousand demon crystals. To mobilize such a large force, without three to five thousand demon crystals, it would be impossible.

Twenty minutes after Ange continuously cast the face purification technique, Brand had already knelt down, admiring Ange’s figure from behind, murmuring his prayers. forty minutes later, all the paladins knelt down, because Little Brand’s foot had already grown back to his heel.

Just like this, under the gaze of more than twenty paladins, Ange easily performed the miracle of regrowing a limb.

Not until Little Brand got up, bouncing a few times with his newly grown foot, did he excitedly shout: “Father!”

Only then did Brand come back to his senses. Standing up, he tidied his armor, knelt on one knee again, thrust his longsword into the ground, and spoke solemnly: “Level 8 Paladin, Brand Augustus, I pledge my loyalty to you. Where your sword points, I shall follow.”

The village where Brand lived was at the bottom of a cliff, at the junction of the ground and the cliff wall, naturally forming a sandwiched depression.

Living here, the cliff could block some of the wind and rain. Adding some huts and pavilions could form an enclosed space, saving a lot of construction materials.

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