The length of the roots, and the leaves have all changed.
They’ve beco similar to the surrounding swamp plants, better suited to grow in this damp land.
The swamp’s power directly induced its transformation.
In just these short two hours, it accomplished what Granny Green might take years to complete...
Lear felt quite pleased.
After taking a stroll, the swamp power sowhat recovered, and Lear attempted to continue using it to transform the surroundings.
Just restoring a bit and transforming a bit, until noon on the 13th, the entire death zone encircling the swamp had been completely constructed.
All the transplanted magic plants had grown into mature plants, beginning to unleash their unique accompanying powers towards the surroundings.
Additionally, he set up a densely packed, winding labyrinth path in the middle.
Without special ans, it’s difficult to get out once you enter the mist.
Thus, the pressure from monsters invading the swamp causing destruction has greatly reduced.
Reclaiming farmland can also be done more confidently.
The entire death zone surrounding the swamp has a depth of 5 kiloters; Lear doesn’t plan to deepen it further into the interior.
The land within the swamp still needs to be used for planting and developnt to feed a large population, so it’s very precious.
But he will continue to expand the swamp into the wilderness, and all those new lands will beco part of the death zone.
In the future, Mire Swamp might be called - the Mist and Death Swamp by outsiders.
It will beco an absolute forbidden zone of life.
Having resolved the issue that had troubled him for a long ti, Lear, feeling extrely pleased, admired his work again, filled in so gaps, and then prepared to return to his territory.
It’s already the evening of the 13th, the sunset’s afterglow casts a faint golden light over the swamp, making everything shimr brightly.
The Kelder Ratman, set to attack in mid-month, hadn’t made a move yet, but the Barbarian Territory had sent several parties asking for help over the past few days.
The Snake-man had already begun tentative attacks on the barbarians, and Stevens’ Blood Race was mixed among them.
The barbarians felt a trendous pressure.
If the Ratman hadn’t launched an attack by the 15th, Lear planned to visit the Barbarian Tribe.
Though these barbarians were sowhat stubborn, they were quite obedient and usable once subdued.
Although workforce scarcity was no longer an issue, there was still a lack of believers. Increasing the population could expand the foundation of the territory and the strength of the sect.
Suspended in mid-air, Weilu City soon ca into view.
Lear genuinely enjoyed this process.
Just as he was about to reach the airspace over his territory, suddenly, boom boom~ boom boom~
A faint heartbeat sound gently echoed in his ears.
Lear snapped his head in a certain direction, his eyes suddenly sharp.
This sound...
An item suddenly surfaced in his mind—
The Heart of the Tyrant Monarch!!
With a flash, he vanished from his original spot and appeared 30 kiloters south of Weilu City.
Suspended mid-air, he gazed down at the earth covered with green wheat shoots.
At this point, there were still many residents tending to the recently reclaid farmland.
Arriving here, the heartbeat sound grew a bit louder.
Lear narrowed his eyes slightly.
Previously, he hadn’t noticed its presence until he had deeply grasped the power of authority, finding an unusual path of his own.
Indeed, it’s crucial to forge your own path; following others’ old paths always leaves you behind.
With eyes like torches, he directly gazed through the earth.
But upon surveying the surroundings, he didn’t find anything unusual.
The signal was too weak and was clearly concealed by the power of rules.
Taking a deep breath, the power of authority emanated out, and the divine kingdom was mobilized...sweeping over the earth like casting a net.
After over ten attempts, he finally discovered an extrely subtle anomaly deep in the swamp.
His power was briefly obstructed here.
This inconspicuous disturbance instantly thrilled Lear.
With a wave of his hand.
Crack~
The earth’s depths directly shattered.
A hidden space layer erged.
Lear’s gaze grew intensely heated, his power erupted.
The space layer directly shattered open.
In the next mont, a heart, black as ink, was revealed, and the surrounding soil was pushed away by an invisible force, forming a hollow area.
Rolling pressure surged forth.
Even beneath the sky, on the surface, Lear’s heart surged with a terrifying urge to destroy everything around!
The farrs tending the fields were instantly corrupted, imdiately picking up hoes and plows, striking at their companions.
Lear frowned slightly, forcefully dispelling the surrounding power, causing those suddenly violent farrs to look at their surroundings in confusion, retreating in fear.
He didn’t care much as there wasn’t significant loss or injury, focusing his gaze on the pitch-black heart.
A slight smile appeared on his lips.
It really is you—the Heart of the Tyrant Monarch!
Finally found it!
This damn thing is the heart of a divine spirit, a god!!
It was appearing alive before his eyes!
This is absolutely an invaluable, priceless treasure!
But just as he was about to retrieve it, he noticed a conspicuous claw mark on the heart.
It carried an evil power that brought despair.
Just slightly sensing it made one’s mind restless, fear surging forth.
That was a power no mortal could possess, coming from the abyss, from a place of absolute darkness.
Demon Prince—Demogorgon!
The Heart of the Tyrant Monarch had been torn off and thrown into the main plane by that abyssal overlord!
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