Ange had been very quiet lately, no matter how Negris and the others tested his patience, he just stood there watching, while both hands kept busy with his own tasks.
At the moment, Ange's arms had completely vanished. His left hand was plunged into the Holy Kingdom, and every patch of cultivable land there had already been developed, leaving no room for further expansion.
However, ever since acquiring Chaos Mist, Ange found himself with an endless list of things he could do. Just restoring the crops of the Chaos Plane required an immense amount of space. With merely a small trace of Chaos Mist, he could manifest a seed or two, which would then produce a whole multitude of seeds.
But a single seed produces a mound, and a thousand seeds produce a thousand mounds. Ange had collected billions of seeds from the Master Plane of the Chaos Plane, and to restore all of them, he would need several Master Plane-sized spaces at minimum.
