That afternoon, Clayton was carefully tending to the fields with the help of his skeletons. The wheat was beginning to bow, the grain heads full and heavy—clear signs that harvest season was drawing near.
Seeing this, Clayton couldn't help but feel a swell of satisfaction in his chest. Though the land wasn't his, every stalk of wheat stood as a living testament to his struggle to adapt and assimilate into this strange and magical world.
After finishing his work, as usual, Clayton received his payment—twenty sand crystals. In a good mood, he walked home with a light step. But his carelessness got the better of him, and he accidentally bumped into someone.
Looking up, he saw a familiar face—Equus.
Their eyes locked. In Equus's arms was a bundle of items: weeds, pests, and a few plants—likely destined for the market. Clayton didn't care. He merely scoffed coldly and walked past without a word.
Equus paused for a moment before continuing on his way. As Clayton walked home, a strange feeling tugged at him. Not only had Equus not reacted with anger, but he also looked troubled—like he was hiding something.
Clayton wondered, "Is something wrong with him?" But after a moment of thought, he shrugged it off. Maybe he's just stressed because his crops failed during the drought.
Once home, Clayton began practicing Water Circulation Armor, a technique from the Sky-Swallowing Whale Body Forging Manual. He ordered his seven skeletons to strike him with wooden sticks. Each hit caused small ripples on the watery shield surrounding his body.
Then, one of the skeletons swung a dagger—one previously dropped by Hank—directly at him.
Swoosh!
The dagger hit the water shield with a muffled sound. Though it pierced fairly deep, the shield held strong, protecting Clayton from injury.
He was impressed. Water Circulation Armor was, at its core, just a basic protection spell—mana-efficient but fragile and restrictive. However, with the addition of the Viscosity and Density traits, the spell had evolved to a whole new level.
Where its quality used to be comparable to black iron, Clayton's version had reached the level of silver—maybe even approaching gold—a significant improvement.
And now that he had recently leveled up his Water Pistol skill, his control over water's viscosity and density had also increased. It was estimated that the armor could now withstand attacks from a mid-tier Apprentice Mage. Clayton felt a lot safer.
Not stopping there, he continued training with Deep Sea Mana Circuit Training. Sitting cross-legged, he circulated mana through his body. A warm, comforting sensation rose from his chest, fueling his motivation.
After a while, he encountered some resistance—but it quickly faded, replaced by a wave of relief. His expression shifted from focused to cheerful.
"Hahaha! I did it! I've broken through! I'm now a One-Star Apprentice Mage!" he exclaimed in pure joy.
Clayton quickly checked his skill panel:
Name: Clayton Fisherman
Age: 16
Rank: One-Star Apprentice Mage
Skills:
Farming (Lv 2) (3/200): (Observation), (Farmer's Intuition)
Water Pistol (Lv 2) (18/200): (Density), (Viscosity)
Holy Skeleton (Lv 2) (2/200): (Rune), (Sharing)
All his Divine Experience Bar-bound skills had leveled up thanks to his hard work on the farm. Each skill's effects had improved, making his farming tasks more efficient and freeing up some of his time.
It would be a shame to waste that extra time—but Clayton had no intention of spending all of it farming. Helping out two tenant farmers a day was enough, he figured.
His thoughts turned to the Rune entry, now at level two but still unused. He began considering a side profession—either formation setter or scroll maker.
Unfortunately, formation setting was still beyond him—he didn't have the mana capacity. That left scroll making. Conveniently, his father had left behind a legacy item: Apprentice Scroll Maker's Low-Tier Inheritance, which should be enough to get started.
Decision made, Clayton set off, bringing four skeletons along—one walking beside him and three hidden in a cart.
Now that Holy Skeleton had reached level two, each skeleton could cast an additional spell. Clayton equipped the unequipped ones with Water Pistol, and the rest with Magic Rain.
Still, this trip felt different. As soon as he entered the outer ring of the city, he sensed familiar watchful eyes on him.
Clayton wanted to curse, but he held back, careful not to show any suspicious reactions. After reading Black Cat Assassin Methods, he'd realized that the dimensional crossing had heightened his soul sensitivity—especially to things like this.
Fortunately, the spies didn't seem aware that they'd been noticed. That gave Clayton a strategic edge.
After wandering for a bit, he returned to a shop he'd visited before. He felt more comfortable there than trying somewhere new.
"Hello, sir. How can I help you?"
"How much do you think this dagger's worth?" Clayton asked, pulling out Hank's dagger.
The shopkeeper examined it.
"This is a mid-tier one-star magic weapon. I can offer ninety low-grade magic crystals."
Clayton nodded. He'd compared prices at other stalls. After some haggling, the dagger sold for one hundred low-grade magic crystals.
"Anything else, sir?"
"I'd like to try making magic scrolls. Any recommendations?"
The clerk quickly brought out various tools. Clayton bought a quill (30 crystals), rune ink (10 crystals), and 1,000 blank scrolls (10 crystals)—a total of 50 crystals.
As he turned to leave, something caught his eye.
"What's that?" he asked.
The shopkeeper turned.
"Oh, that's a pile of used and failed magic weapons people sold to the shop—like your dagger. They haven't been cleaned up yet."
Clayton's curiosity was piqued. He began browsing and found a sickle that stood out.
"How much for this sickle?"
The shopkeeper smiled and explained.
"That's a Hundred-Fold Cold Iron Sickle. It was supposed to be a mid-tier one-star magic weapon, but the rune engraving failed, so it dropped to low-tier."
Clayton was intrigued.
"What's the price?"
"Eighty low-grade magic crystals."
"That's steep…"
"But it's not just any low-tier weapon. The material cost was high—it only failed at the final stage."
Clayton understood. He remembered that one tier difference could mean triple the price. After weighing it and being nudged by the clerk's persuasion, he bought the sickle for seventy crystals.
As the shopkeeper packed up his items with a satisfied smile, Clayton felt a pang of regret. He'd just been feeling rich with a hundred crystals—and now, his pouch was nearly empty again.
"Damn it," he muttered, recalling what his friends used to say back in the old world: "A pretty shopkeeper can hypnotize you into spending everything."
He hadn't believed it back then. Now? He was a believer—and a victim.
...
Meanwhile, from a distance, a long-faced man watched Clayton leave with a stunned expression.
"Damn… was it all true?" Equus muttered, his emotions in turmoil.
He'd suspected that Clayton was involved in Hank's death—but he never imagined Clayton himself was the killer. Seeing him sell Hank's belongings confirmed it.
Equus's face twisted with complex emotions. He used to think of Clayton as a pathetic, helpless kid. Who would've thought the boy was actually pretending to be a pig… to eat a tiger?
Equus swore to himself: He would stay as far away from Clayton as possible—for the rest of his life.