In a wheat field bathed in golden light, a young man and seven miniature skeletons moved briskly, working with precision like tireless worker bees.
Several days had passed since Clayton helped Grass with his farm. Since then, more and more people had begun asking him to manage their fields as well.
Clayton gladly accepted their requests. He carried out every task with great care, earning praise from the local farmers.
As he became more familiar with the work, Clayton was now able to assist two landowners in a single day.
People began to realize that Clayton truly had talent. In just a few short days, the results of his work were noticeably better than those of any other farm in the area.
The fields managed by Clayton and his skeletons looked more vibrant and fertile than any others nearby.
At the edge of the field, a group of onlookers gathered, stealing glances at Clayton and his bony helpers.
"That Clayton kid is really something! Look how neat Old Man Wood's field is now."
"Seriously! It's only been a few days, and the difference is night and day!"
"I want to hire him too… but twenty magic crystal sands is too expensive. I'd rather save that money for an Engraving Potion."
"Yeah, it's just too pricey for now."
An elderly man standing nearby shook his head and spoke firmly.
"You youngsters really don't know when to spend. Use a bit of your crystal sands now—if your harvest goes well, you'll have no trouble paying the grain tax. But if your field fails, who's going to cover that loss?"
One of the young men scoffed.
"Don't compare us to you, Old Man Wood. We still need potions and food for our magic training. You're already living the peaceful retired life."
Another chimed in, laughing.
"Yeah, aren't you planning to leave the magic world soon and marry a bunch of women to spread your bloodline?"
Old Man Wood could only sigh. He looked out at his neatly tended field, a flicker of nostalgia in his aged eyes.
He too had once been like these youths—full of passion, chasing after magical progress. He trained hard, cut costs where he shouldn't have, and believed that effort alone would guarantee success.
But reality wasn't so kind. Instead of rising to greatness, he hit one dead end after another, forced to take detours due to naive decisions and poor strategies in his youth.
If only he had been more mature—more financially wise—perhaps his life wouldn't feel so hopeless now.
Now, with only a Level 5 qualification, even reaching the rank of a three-star apprentice mage was considered an achievement. His age was rapidly closing the door on further advancement.
Though disheartened, Old Man Wood still felt fortunate to have come this far. Many of his more talented peers had already vanished from history—slain in duels, lost in forests, eaten by monsters, or punished for offending the wrong person.
"If only I had a Level 3 qualification... maybe I'd still have a chance to become a true mage and extend my lifespan..." he muttered under his breath.
In every world, reality is cruel. Talent is a luxury not everyone can afford. And in the world of magic, the gap between the talented and the untalented is magnified a hundred—no, a thousandfold.
A voice called out from the distance, pulling him from his thoughts.
"Mr. Wood, I've finished tending your field! Please check if anything's missing!"
Old Man Wood turned and saw Clayton walking over.
"Ah, no need to check—I trust your work completely."
Clayton smiled, pleased to be trusted and appreciated. Without delay, Old Man Wood handed him his payment.
"Clayton, I'm really impressed by your work. If I ever need help again, you'll be the first one I call."
"Haha, thank you, Mr. Wood! I'll do my best, always!" Clayton replied happily. Who wouldn't be glad to be praised?
Old Man Wood smiled and nodded. Though he appeared sincere, he had other thoughts in mind. He hoped Clayton could one day become a valuable connection for his children and grandchildren in the magical world.
Like many elders, he wanted to pass on opportunities he couldn't grasp himself—whether or not it might burden the next generation.
To him, Clayton was a promising potential ally. But he didn't want to rush things. If he came on too strong, Clayton might grow suspicious, and everything could fall apart.
If possible, he even hoped to make Clayton his godson. But for now, maintaining a good relationship would suffice.
In the adult world, there's no such thing as pure affection or sincerity—only interests and benefits.
The longer he observed Clayton, the more satisfied he became. Though their qualifications were similar, his instincts told him Clayton was someone special.
Besides, with his current status, Clayton was one of the few people left he could speak to without shame. As for true mages—he wasn't even worthy of shining their shoes.
As Clayton was leaving the field, a group of people quickly gathered around him.
"Clayton, you're amazing!"
"Your fieldwork is impeccable!"
"Your father must have been incredible to teach you farming this well!"
Clayton smiled, but something felt off inside.
"Haha... Brothers and Uncles, it's just a few things I learned from my father. Nothing special."
"Don't be modest! We're all seasoned farmers, but our results can't even compare."
"Yeah! Decades of work and your few months outshine us all."
The atmosphere grew a little heavy.
"Haha, really, I'm not that talented. I just studied some of my father's notes—he kept tips on farming," Clayton replied humbly.
That explanation seemed to satisfy them. They nodded in understanding.
"Ah, that makes sense! Your father was the best farmer in the area."
"Like the saying goes: a tiger doesn't birth a dog!"
Clayton let out a quiet sigh of relief. The tension had eased. But then, suddenly…
"So what kind of tips did your dad leave behind?" asked a wide-eyed, innocent young man.
Silence. All eyes turned to the red-faced youth.
Friend… what kind of question is that? Clayton cursed internally.
He was furious. In the world of magic, information is everything. One slip-up can be used to ruin you. That's why people guard their secrets so closely.
Clayton wasn't paranoid, but he still made sure not to expose the secrets behind his abilities.
"Yeah, tell us the tips! Didn't you say you wouldn't shame your father's name? I remember he used to share his wisdom with everyone too."
That voice… Clayton recognized it right away—Equus.
He clenched his fists, holding back his anger. He knew this guy lived to stir up trouble. Even though Equus had accidentally helped him get popular once, it was still infuriating.
Giving advice or helping others wasn't a requirement. But Equus made it sound like a moral obligation.
The more Clayton thought about it, the angrier he got.
But just as he was about to snap back with a sharp retort, he noticed the faces around him—their eyes full of hope.
Clayton took a deep breath.
He knew exactly what they wanted. They genuinely hoped he would answer Equus's challenge.
Meanwhile, Equus wore a smug, triumphant grin.