Under Ange's guidance, Negris probed his thoughts into the dimensional space and immediately let out a scream, "Ah! Help me!!!"
Such a strong sense of free-fall would make any normal creature cry out uncontrollably.
Thud! Negris landed on a patch of soft, moist, fertile soil. He lifted his head to see this soft land rapidly taking shape, spreading swiftly into the distance.
Negris immediately had a bad feeling about this. This kind of soil was perfect for planting things. Surely the Dead Skull wouldn't...
No sooner had this thought crossed his mind than he saw a lone bone hand drifting over.
Sighing, he knew it. No matter the dimension, it would inevitably become Ange's farmland. The area of this dimensional space seemed quite vast, almost as large as the Resting Camp, and was empty and flat with nothing in it.
The soft soil was the only material in the dimensional space, and its edge also became the boundary of the dimensional space.
