Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton - Chapter 109: 1 Don’t Want to Be a Pope!_l

No one knew what Negris had discussed with the World Tree during his second return. Yet, every now and then when he retreated into his solitude, a hearty laugh could be heard.

Of course, he discussed the substance of the conversation with Ange, but all he heard was about planting trees, and responded with a simple, “Oh, I see.”

Continuously, trees were planted – with great enthusiasm no less. Everyone from the Resting Abyss sprang into action, striving for the most efficient planting methods that could make do with few trees, yet prevent strong winds and protect more land.

The World Tree was shifted from place to place. Had it been any other sapling, it would have perished from such disruption. But the World Tree was incredibly hardy, enduring the frequent relocation without wilting.

If Ange was present, he could employ the Instant Death Halo and cultivate a crop. Once the World Tree firmly roots itself, its prosperity is guaranteed and thereafter cultivates normally.

However, in Angel s absence, they acted rather prudently, transplanting patches of grass to the tree. Grass planted in the morning would root by noon, and by evening, it would flourish.

In addition, tendrils of fresh crops would coil around the World Tree mere days after their planting. Any other tree might have been strangled, yet the World Tree seemed to cherish being tightly bound by the tendrils.

It was unaffected by sparse watering and unbothered by competition from other crops for nutrients. Its growth even spurred on the growth of surrounding plants. In fact, these abnormalities would baffle an average farmer. But those unfamiliar with farming adapted quicker to these traits.

Soon, lush green planting zones emerged around the boundaries of Demon Valley, mirroring an oasis. As the World Tree grew, it expanded its protective scope, gradually merging these zones into a contiguous expanse.

If the elves, who tended to their trees anxiously and meticulously, had to witness the robust World Tree that was treated roughly, they would certainly be disheartened.

The elves once asked Negris how to care for the World Tree. Already having taken advantage of the World Tree, Negris generously advised them to simply plant casually.

Casual planting? Wasn’t it their inability to successfully cultivate that prompted them to seek guidance? Kael’danil, a noble Great Druid, was not one to take matters lightly.

Believing that Negris was mocking them, they attended to the saplings even more conscientiously. From weeding and watering, extermination of pests, to even placing a tree inside a dust-free boundary for enhanced protection.

Their efforts backfired, producing no desirable results. This led them to seek Negris’s help again.

Bewildered, Negris remarked, “Plant it casually. How could it possibly die from that?”

His response only emboldened their commitment and unfortunately, the tree within the dust-free boundary died.

The Elves were thrown into utter chaos. Negris had already sold them all five World Tree saplings. Losing anymore was not an option, given that they were unable to purchase more.

In their panic, they scrambled back to Negris. Their tone was notably more tempered, but their words carried a significance akin to seeking redress from customer service.

Humorously exasperated, Negris said, “I’ve already told you to relax and just plant it. No watering or fertilization is needed. Sprinkle some grass seeds around the base, let the grass grow, and the tree will thrive.”

“Impossible! We’ve been taking such careful measures but the trees are still dying. Sprinkling grass seeds would only steal its nutrients, won’t it expedite the tree’s death?” Most elves were opposed to Negris’s provocative suggestion.

Finally, it was Gailard who said, “Nonetheless, we’ve tried almost every possible way. Let’s try this one on a tree. I’m tired.”

Reluctantly, they were agreed to give it a try. Although they agreed to take it casually, a crowd of elves carried on to watch over the tree every day. Whenever a small bird perched on the tree pecking at the tree bark, or when insect eggs floated over, they trembled with fear. When they saw the tiny grass growing wildly and sprouting tendrils, their hearts beat wildly out of fear.

And just like that, amidst their nail-biting worry, while the other World Trees died, this one managed to survive.

“It is alive, isn’t it? As long as it’s alive, we’re good. I swear, if it died too, I would prefer to just refund your money. I can’t believe you managed to kill the trees. I am amazed. ” Negris sighed a sigh of relief.

Anthony clandestinely exited the Curia’s office through a long secret passageway, heading towards the direction of the hidden state chambers.

Since assuming the position of Archbishop, he had been secretly constructing multiple positions for operations that were too controversial for the Curia’s premises.

While choosing a location for these secret bases, he had to ensure a moderate distance from the Curia to avoid significant attention while also being careful to not go too far where demands of travel became excessive.

Even so, the most secure option would always be the use of a Teleportation Array, but the Major Teleportation Circle in the Curia was generally overutilized, hence inconvenient.

Anthony was in the midst of planning to build a personal Teleportation Array within his office. Although it could significantly ease his travel, the high security risk caused substantial opposition. After all, Anthony didn’t have full control over the Church of Light. Several adversaries posed hurdles, including a couple of individuals who constantly opposed him and interfered with matters regarding his location.

The Human Diocese had two Archbishops – Anthony and Nikola, with an Archbishop from the Land of Fallen Diocese rounding off the trio. All three were leading contenders for the position of the Pope.

As the age of the incumbent Pope kept increasing, and the likelihood of him passing away at any time grew, the competition between the three Archbishops reached fever pitch.

However, it was mainly the other two archbishops that were in competition. Anthony wished nothing more than to completely detach himself from the matter. He had already had the chance to become the Pope once before, but in the end, he had to pretend to be dead to escape. Now, decades later, he was faced with the same predicament.

Anthony wished he could grab the ears of the other two contenders and yell: I don’t want to be the Pope.

Unfortunately, even if he did that, no one would believe him. They would ask, if you don’t want to be the Pope, then why is your diocese flourishing so well?

Why do your parishioners live a peaceful and prosperous life? Why are you so good at managing relationships with the governing rulers of various countries in your diocese? Why do your clergy maintain such high levels of integrity? Are you just trying to show off to compete for the position of the next Pope?

Anthony was at a loss for words.

On the surface, he was a middle-aged Archbishop in his prime, not even sixty years old, but in reality, he was an Undead who had lived for an uncountable number of years. Having reincarnated as the Black Warrior and various humans, his governance skills surpassed the other two candidates tenfold, even with his eyes closed.

No matter the situation, he had an appropriate solution. He was ruthless in execution, insightful in vision, and his eyes were even better lie detectors than magic.

Take, for example, disaster relief. While other dioceses grandly inspired their believers to donate money and materials, they would bring the donations to the disaster area accompanied by fanfare, distributing the resources that had been depleted by 70-80% on the road to the victims. This process harvested waves of faith, filled the clergy’s wallets, and nobody really cared how many people died.

But Anthony wouldn’t do this. He would encourage believers to donate, then use the funds to hire the Mercenary Guild and Commerce Association to transport the supplies to the disaster area.

He would then organize the disaster victims to help themselves and resume production, recover the spent donations with the output of production, and print a batch of appreciation letters and medals to distribute to the donors.

These donations were then distributed to the priests and servants who organized the disaster relief, essentially helping the funds circulate from the believers to the clergy. Yet, everyone benefited, and the victims were helped.

The donors received recognition and gratitude, they were satisfied. The Mercenary Guild and Commerce Association completed their tasks, received rewards, and even reduced their transportation costs. The disaster victims received food and resources to survive, rebuild their homes, and resume production.

The clergy received subsidies and the gratitude of the victims, they felt their work was both sacred and valuable.

The only disadvantage was the inability to harvest faith on a large scale in a short time.

But this was precisely Anthony’s intention. He didn’t want to help the Church of Light harvest faith. In other areas of management, he persisted in taking this quiet approach and avoided drawing attention wherever possible.

However, after persisting for decades, he discovered a problem. His diocese had a steady population growth because of his excellent management.

In the absence of war and famine through the years, the believers lived peacefully and prosperely. The nations of his diocese maintained friendly relations, and races coexisted harmoniously. For example, a Minotaur auntie distributing flyers and persuading others to join the church on the street was something that could only happen in his diocese.

This led to an interesting situation. Even though there wasn’t large-scale faith harvesting, the number of believers in his diocese was steadily growing, their faith was unwavering and solid, and they made the most offerings.

So, unintentionally, his reputation grew day by day, and the call for him to be the next Pope became stronger. Anthony felt helpless.

He would not simply let disasters, wars, and famines spread while he stood by indifferently. When faced with the same situation next time, he would still deal with it promptly. Would not that mean the better he did, the higher his reputation? Wouldn’t he have to feign death and escape again?

Alas, he sighed: Was there no way to do good deeds without people knowing about it?

Upon returning to his secret base and laying his hand on the doorknob, Anthony instantly felt something was amiss; all his hairs stood on end.

The sturdy wooden door exploded, and countless fragments splattered. At the same time, a concentrated sword light pierced through the door aiming directly for Anthony’s head.

“A high-level Sword Saint!?” Anthony exclaimed in surprise.

High-level Sword Saints were rare, each of them well-known powerhouses in the continent. One of them was now here to assassinate him?

As a Cardinal, Anthony himself was a strong magic user. It would be a disadvantage for him to encounter a swordsman at a close distance, let alone a high-level Sword Saint who could turn fighting spirit into a sword. Even an

Arcane Magician would likely meet a misfortunate end if ambushed by a Sword Saint at this close a range.

However, Anthony showed no fear. He shook his hands, crossed them in front of him, and his long robe fluttered, revealing his bracers.

The pair of thick bracers covered Anthony’s thin arms completely. As the sword light hit the bracers, he let out a deep hum and deflected the attack.

“The Lord said: My fists can shatter everything.” Anthony yelled each word deliberately, and he punched out.

The high-level Sword Saint, who had tried to sneak attack him, opened his eyes wide in terror, “Holy Fighting Spirit?! Holy Word Technique?! You are an Archbishop.. How can you use Fighting Spirit?”