Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton

10 Chapter 10 Bronze Book_1

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

With a thought, clank! Ange bumped into something, his consciousness was flung outwards.

Composing himself, he found he’d been blocked from the core area of the Resting Camp where the Undead King was slumbering.

Clearly, some boundary was preventing Ange’s consciousness from entering the area. Ange was not surprised or disappointed; he simply turned towards the highest tower on the east side.

The Resting Camp was incredibly large, with five main architectural compounds. The centre naturally was the most critical area of the Resting Camp, and the other four grand structures were distributed in the four corners, symmetrically placed. The eastern tower was the tallest.

His consciousness entered the tower without any obstruction.

From the outside, it looked like a high tower. But once inside, it seemed more like a chimney. The interior structure had no floors or divisions. It was a continuous cylindrical space reaching right up to the top of the tower.

It was completely empty, except for a small podium placed in the middle of the ground, which held a book.

Yes, a small podium and a book were the sole contents of the entire tower.

Ange’s consciousness floated over, brushing the book, and he was stunned to find that it was made of solid, heavy bronze.

As Ange touched it, the Bronze Book flipped open, and a huge illusory shadow sprung into the sky, quickly filling the tower’s interior space – it was the shadow of this book.

Ange began to comprehend why the tower was erected so high. If it were not this high, it would undoubtedly be incapable of accommodating the shadow of this book.

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The shadow of the book was raised, showing its inside pages. There were no words on these pages initially, but once opened, golden letters gradually emerged.

Ange tilted his head, staring blankly for a long time without moving.

Out of the pages came an illusory shadow of a Bronze Giant Dragon who said with some confusion, “Why is there a skeleton? Ahem, do you not know how to read?”

Ange nodded.

“What are you doing in a library if you can’t read? Fooling about.” The Bronze Giant Dragon complained, “Well, although I can dictate, that’s quite uncouth. You’re in luck.”

A surge of information flowed into Ange’s soul and imprinted there.

“Eh? Your soul is pretty solid. Why are you only at the Ashbone Level?” murmured the Bronze Giant Dragon int her perplexed tone.

Ange was puzzled. He didn’t understand what it meant, but he could understand the words on the page. The information the Bronze Giant Dragon imprinted in his soul was the knowledge of words.

The words on the page read: The Bronze Book knows everything. Only one question can be asked each time.

A question can be asked? It knows everything? Ange tilted his head and inquired with his soul, “Who are you?”

“Hahahaha, at last someone has asked this question, at last, oh God, oh God, you are so smart, how did you think of asking this?” The Bronze Giant Dragon was so thrilled it appeared as if it would leap right out of the book.

Anyone allowed into the library would know the Bronze Dragon. Plus, as per the rules, only one question could be asked, so no one would waste that precious chance by asking who the Bronze Dragon was. The Bronze Dragon was just the Bronze Dragon, who else could it be?

“Good lad, you’ve asked the right question. Listen well. I am the Bronze Book, the God of Knowledge, the omniscient Negris!” The sound of Negris’s voice boomed like a bell in Ange’s soul.

Ange watched him curiously while Negris craned his neck to look at Ange. After a confrontation of stares, Negris could not contain himself and asked, “You haven’t heard my name, have you?”

Ange nodded.

With a dejected sigh, Negris said, “I had figured. What would a skeleton know? Don’t you have any other questions?”

Ange tilted his head and asked with an innocent twinge in his soul, “One question.”

“Doesn’t count, doesn’t count. That just now wasn’t a question, that was a reward. Anyone who knows my divine name can summon me by it, and ask me a question. One every day!” Negris hastily informed him.

Originally, that was a sort of cruel joke Negris had devised. If someone asked him who he was, he would respond that that was their one question, before notifying them that, as a token of his pity, they could summon him by his name and ask a question daily.

Managing to get into the library was no small feat, and only being allowed one question, within that pain, Negris would tell them they could ask a question every day. Of course, this was a reward. The unbelievably rollercoaster ride of emotions his victims would take from the despair to extreme joy would satisfy his twisted sense of humor.

However, from the moment of his confinement, no one has fallen into this trap for a thousand years. Who would enter without knowing the backstory, given how precious an opportunity it was?

As for his divine name, no one cared. How great a god could he be when he was confined here? Could he be mightier than the Undead King?

Thousands of years passed and finally, someone fell into the trap – the unconventional Ange, who after asking his identity, really didn’t plan on asking anything else. This nearly killed Negris from frustration.

“Ask, ask another! I am the omniscient God of Knowledge, there is nothing I don’t know.” Ange’s indifferent demeanor somewhat annoyed Negris, who was looking forward to a question from Ange so he could demonstrate the power of a God of Knowledge.

“Oh.” After giving it some thought Ange asked, “Where did the King go?”

The huge illusion of the Bronze Book snapped shut with a thud, engulfing the Bronze Dragon within, then rapidly shrank back onto the podium as an actual Bronze Book with a distinct sound. The physical Bronze Book then closed.

The space echoed with the irate voice of the Bronze Giant Dragon Negris, “I don’t know.”

Of all the questions one could ask, he had to go for that one. Negris himself wanted to know where the Undead King had gone. Although it was just a small skeleton, Ange’s question was unusually difficult and uncooperative. Negris was done playing, so he went on strike!

Looking at the restored state of the space, Ange tilted his head and withdrew his consciousness. The Bronze Giant Dragon’s tantrum had no effect on him. Ange was just a small skeleton who had no need of answering many questions.

His consciousness shifted, intending to drift to another building, when Ange felt a nudge on his body signalling him his physical body was being shaken.

Ange’s consciousness returned to his body, instantly feeling someone violently shaking him. Turning to see who it was, it turned out to be the Little Zombie.

Upon seeing Ange react, the panicking Little Zombie continued screeching, urgently pointing in a certain direction. Ange looked over in the direction the Little Zombie was pointing. A Tough Skin Zombie was lumbering from a distance, with white eyes and elongated arms indicative of preparing an attack, coming straight for Ange.

“Does this count as an ‘active attack’?” A question arose in Ange’s soul as he reached for the scythe at his waist and swung it deftly.