Chapter 344: Chapter 214 You are the Undead God, I am Steadfast Locke_2

The village had a population of five to six hundred people. Most of them were out working. The few that remained were the old, the weak, women and children, who were either chatting or playing around. Many of them were barely clothed. As soon as they noticed a stranger like Ange, they rapidly retreated into their homes.

Brand awkwardly said: “The village is poor, resources are scarce, so many families only have one or two sets of clothes.”

“It’s too harsh. Given these living conditions, why don’t you try to improve it?” Negris asked.

Brand responded with a despairing tone: “We are incapable. All the economic lifelines and resources here are concentrated in Holy Wall City. Besides, the surrounding areas are barren, and surviving is already difficult. The village is worrying about how to manage the food supplies during the Eternal Night.”

“The Eternal Night? Won’t Holy Wall City allocate food?” Negris asked.

“Who knows? When the time comes and the Undead knock at the gate, all manpower is focused on the front line. Who can spare the energy to care about our army’s food and pay? If we don’t prepare beforehand, it wouldn’t be unusual for our village to completely disappear after the Eternal Night.”

“Do you cultivate crops yourself?” Negris asked.

“Yes, and it just happens to be the time for harvest. The others have already gone…” As Brand was speaking, there was a sudden rumble of thunder in the sky.

Brand’s face turned pale: “No good, it’s about to rain. We haven’t finished harvesting the crops yet. Excuse us, Sir, we need to leave for a while.”

Having said that, Brand turned his head towards the other Paladins. Before he could give an order, the rest of the Paladins swarmed in a certain direction.

“Let’s follow them.” Negris said.

Before he could utter his words, Ange, who had grown restless, chimed in. He was interested in anything related to farming and harvesting. However, watching these sprinting Paladins, Ange asked confusedly: “They don’t have horses. Why are they called Paladins?”

“…” Negris was a bit speechless: “‘Paladin’ is a profession, including skills such as horsemanship and the ability to exert power while riding and so on. The lack of horses is probably due to poverty.”

Ange followed them to the areas where the fields were located. The whole area was in chaos. Everyone was frantically harvesting the crops in the fields with wooden sickles, fearfully glancing at the sky from time to time. As the clouds in the sky became denser, everyone’s expressions became increasingly anxious.

However, how high could the efficiency be while harvesting with a sickle? Tired and sweaty, with limbs weak, they collected less than half after taking a break to look around.

Based on past experience, it would take an entire day to harvest all the crops. Even if they worked hard, it wouldn’t be possible to finish harvesting all the crops before the rain came.

Even the joining of Brand and other Paladins did not significantly improve the process. They all held longswords, which were even less efficient than sickles for harvesting crops.

Ange was excited and eager to join. Negris, who had a premonition, hurriedly stopped him: “Don’t be reckless. You are an Ascetic Monk right now. Don’t use anything inconsistent with your identity. Don’t even think about using the Scythe of Death.”

“Oh?” Ange tilted his head. Holy Light extended from both of his hands, forming into a sacred…sickle.

With the Holy Light Sickle held upside down, Ange ran swiftly through the field. Wherever he passed, crops neatly fell down, saving even the effort of a second clean-up. They could easily be bundled and taken away.

Negris didn’t know what to say. Not until Ange finished harvesting all the crops did he say with a bitter smile: “You can shape the Holy Light now. But all you can think of is making a sickle.”

There were countless things that Holy Light shaping could do. The Sword of the Holy Spirit, the Staff of the Great Angel, the Scepter of the Pope, etc., all required Holy Light to shape. Well, unprecedentedly, the Sickle of Holy Light, on par with the legendary artifacts like Sword of the Holy Spirit, Staff of the Angels, was born.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, staring in disbelief as Ange ran back and forth in the field. The villagers who didn’t recognize Ange all turned their eyes towards Brand.

Brand was so moved that he was brought to tears: “The Master is helping us harvest. The Master is so kind and amiable. Quick, gather the crops. Don’t waste the Master’s effort.”

With Ange’s high-efficiency harvesting, the villagers just needed to bundle and carry away the crops. Everyone worked together to move all the crops into the warehouse before the first drop of rain fell.

“Thank you so much, Sir. If you hadn’t helped us, we would have lost more than 40% of our crops. It would have been tough after the Eternal Night.” Brand offerted some refreshment, expressing his gratitude with tears in his eyes.

Negris lectured: “Since the harvest is so crucial, why are the twenty or so of you strong workers not coming back to help?”

Brand guiltily said: “We would have made it back in time, if we hadn’t bumped into you, Sir.”

So, it turned out that they hadn’t made it back in time because Ange had caught up with them!

At this moment, a one-eyed old woman from the crowd of onlooking villagers waved something in her hand at Brand.

Brand went over to ask about it, and then brought back what the old woman had given him: “Sir, the villagers are grateful for your help and have decided to present you with this precious ancestral treasure.”

“Ah? The ancestral treasure? That’s too precious, we can’t accept it. Please return it to this young lady.” Negris immediately declined.