Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton-Chapter 389 - 236: Don’t Blame Me for Being Rude_1

Chapter 389: Chapter 236: Don’t Blame Me for Being Rude_1

Ange took out a bottle of black liquid and poured it into the bucket in a gurgle. Seeing that the color was still light, he took out another bottle, and poured three bottles in a row. He stirred it evenly, then began the detailed work.

He flicked his fingers, and the liquid in the bucket jumped up, following his actions and bounced towards a certain plant, then exploded. The mist sprayed evenly on the plant.

This continued non-stop until all the plants were sprinkled with water fertilizer mixed with Insect Ash Liquid.

Negris flapped back and reported to Ange: “Ange, those druids are continuously casting light on each plant. It seems to be supplementary lighting, but the light is only red and blue, which is a bit strange.”

Ange quickly dropped the water fertilizer and ran to the top of the tower to look down.

The druids were scattered around the farmland, each taking care of a portion of the crops. They emitted red or blue light from their hands, constantly brushing over the plants.

Ange rested his chin on the windowsill, watching until the druids finished. Then he lifted his palm, held up a ball of white holy light, and turned his palm a few times. The color of the holy light began to change.

No, that’s not right. Ange shook his hand, and then offered another ball of white light. This white light wasn’t as soft as the holy light and was a bit dazzling. If you look at it for a long time, you will feel your eyes are sore.

“Flash Technique?” Negris leaned over and said, “It should not be Flash Technique. They can persist for several hours, more powerful than the magic array used by Witch City. The consumption of Flash Technique is too great, they couldn’t possibly sustain it for so long.”

As soon as Negris finished speaking, the white light in Ange’s hand suddenly turned blue, and after a while, it turned red again.

Negris frowned and looked for a while, then hesitated and said: “It’s still the Flash Technique, but the elemental fluctuations are much less. Is it because they only emit red and blue light, so the consumption is reduced? But what is the use of this?”

Talking too much is useless, you still have to experiment. Ange immediately marked out a small control zone in the farmland, part illuminated with red and blue light, part with holy light, and part planted with Luminous Moss for supplementary light.

Seven or eight days later, the differences were obvious. The crops exposed to red and blue light were much stronger in both grain stalks and leaves than those that only received holy light or were supplemented with Luminous Moss.

“It seems that these druids are quite skilled, not just eating and doing nothing,” Negris said.

Its knowledge of culturing hasn’t been updated for a thousand years. Nowadays, everything that gets updated belongs to Ange’s school of thought. If Ange doesn’t know, it doesn’t know either.

Neither the cultivation methods from a thousand years ago nor Ange have any knowledge about red and blue light, but now they do.

Ange immediately expanded the irradiation range to the entire cultivation area, emitting light for two hours every day.

But in the original control area, Ange increased the dose for them, and they were irradiated for eight or nine hours a day, almost all night under the cover of light, and then overgrown.

It seems that supplementary lighting also needs to be regulated. Ange continuously experimented and compared, and soon found the most suitable supplementary lighting time. In the condition of the Land of Fallen, supplementary light for three hours every day can make the crops grow the best. If it exceeds three hours, the crops are prone to overgrowth.

A week later, Dobinki quietly came to the bucket again, picked out a bottle of black liquid and poured it in. Seeing that there was still a little bit left in the bottle, he scooped up some water, rinsed it, and then poured it into the bucket, not willing to waste a drop.

He was still muttering to himself: “This is the second bottle. One bottle every seven or eight days. In the next two months, I have to put more than a dozen bottles in. This task is losing money. I have to raise the price.”

On the other side, Ange also took out three bottles of black liquid, didn’t even look, just dumped them in, hastily stirred a bit, then started watering.

As time passed day by day, during which Anthony found him twice and said that the elves were looking for him all over the world and were about to cry. Now the whole world is curious about who Lord Ange is and why he doesn’t give the elves any face.

Silver coin also found him several times, saying that the business environment here was too poor, and the supplies were lacking. He had already organized people to produce self-rescue materials and hoped that Ange could provide some high-yield grains. Then he sent him a bunch of Everlasting Spring Stones.

In the Land of Fallen, the Everlasting Spring Stone is the most practical. There are few streams here, especially in the third month after the eternal night, when surface water is almost exhausted, but the humidity in the air is very high. Throwing Everlasting Spring Stone at the wind vent can condense water during the day.

With the Everlasting Spring Stone, Ange could save the consumption of magic in watering and have more time for supplementary lighting.

So Ange gave Silver coin several tons of grain for seeding.

In the third month, Silver coin dragged a plough back and told Ange, “I have organized some people to dig coal, mine, build furnaces and blacksmith shops. It took three months, and we finally made iron plows and various iron farming tools. My Lord, do you need any?”

Ange shook his head. The Little Zombie is more useful than an iron plow.

Negris was stunned: “In just over two months, you have done so much? You have made ironware? You also know how to forge?”

Silver coin scratched his head and spoke bashfully, “My Lord, you are joking. How could I know how to forge, but someone does. I carried a bag of rice to the human camp and shouted ‘who can forge iron.’ My God, the people who rushed up almost tore me apart.”

“I almost got squeezed to death, and hurriedly shouted: Who can fight? Twenty or so fighters rushed over to protect me. Under their protection, I recruited a group of blacksmiths, miners, furnace workers, farmers, and some who cook and wash clothes. The Great Sage dispatched me a group of zombie skeletons and several guards, saying that he will fully support my work.”