Wizard Starts Farming With Mini Skeletons
Chapter 107

Chapter 107: Chapter 107

Clayton walked home carefully after shopping, staying alert in case of any trouble. Fortunately, his journey back was uneventful.

Once he reached his house, eager to resume his magic training and scroll crafting, he rushed to open the gate. But just as he was about to, he noticed a group of people gathered not far away.

He immediately went on high alert. After all, strange crowds had often led to problems lately—especially with all the chaos in Sunlight City.

However, upon closer inspection, the group didn’t appear to be causing trouble. In fact, they were chatting warmly and seemed familiar. As he looked closer, Clayton realized they were his neighbors. That piqued his curiosity—what were they talking about?

Lately, it felt like all Clayton ever heard was bad news. This sudden moment of cheerful conversation was enough to make him walk closer and listen in.

As he drew near, fragments of their conversation became audible.

"Congratulations, Arthur! You’ve reached Four-Star Apprentice Mage! You’re officially a respectable mid-level Apprentice mage now!"

"Haha, thanks! Congrats to you too—you made it to Two Stars!"

Clayton blinked in disbelief. Arthur? Four Stars? He couldn’t hide his surprise. Could it really be that Arthur had broken through that level barrier so quickly?

Every three tiers, there was usually a bottleneck—an invisible wall that some mages couldn’t overcome for their entire lives. Typically, passing through required long, gradual training... or help from powerful magical items.

Clayton suspected Arthur had used the second method, considering how quickly he’d leveled up.

Now he understood why Arthur and Lorenzo had looked so happy that day. They really had achieved something impressive.

He stayed put, quietly listening. To Clayton, this was valuable intel—he had no network of his own, no reliable source of information.

In a world of magic and swords, information could be the difference between life and death. That’s why Clayton kept some social contact, even if he wasn’t naturally outgoing.

He remained there until the crowd slowly dispersed and people returned to their business. Eventually, with only a few people left, Arthur spotted him.

"Hey Clayton! How’ve you been?" Arthur greeted him cheerfully.

Clayton smiled.

"Doing well! And congratulations on the rank-up! I don’t have a proper gift, so I’ll just say congratulations!"

"Haha, that’s more than enough. Your words alone make me happy," Arthur replied.

Clayton nodded, and Arthur invited him for a chat. He didn’t refuse—given Arthur’s new status, anything he said could be worth listening to.

"Have you heard about all the chaos lately?" Arthur asked suddenly.

"Yeah. Why?" Clayton raised an eyebrow.

"Just a heads-up—you should avoid going out too much these days."

"Huh? Why’s that?"

"I heard the city government’s about to take action. All this disorder has started hurting the city’s reputation—and economy."

Clayton nodded in understanding.

"Oh right, are you free tonight?"

"Yeah, why?"

"How about joining us for dinner at Lorenzo’s? We’re celebrating our achievement."

Clayton hesitated. He had planned to train and craft scrolls... but social gatherings like these often led to useful intel—like the one he’d just gotten about government action.

In the end, he nodded. "Alright. I’ll come."

"Haha, great! I’ll be waiting!" Arthur replied enthusiastically.

After chatting a bit more, they parted ways. Clayton returned home, tested some of his newly bought materials, then got ready for dinner at Lorenzo’s place.

That evening, he arrived neatly dressed. When he knocked, the door was opened by a young woman—it was Liora.

Clayton smiled and asked if Lorenzo was home. Liora blushed slightly and invited him inside.

Arthur was already waiting.

"Sorry, am I late?" Clayton asked.

"Nope, you’re right on time," Lorenzo said warmly.

"You’re not late—I just got here too early," Arthur added.

The three sat and chatted warmly. Liora came in and out serving food and drinks but didn’t join them. She kept her distance, watching the group with a complicated expression.

From time to time, she’d steal a glance at Clayton with shy eyes—but after a while, her gaze shifted toward Arthur.

A quiet struggle was playing out in her mind.

She had liked Clayton for a long time. But lately, Arthur seemed far more appealing: strong, wealthy, and well-connected.

As an adult woman, Liora knew love wasn’t the only factor in choosing a partner—especially after her family’s wheat tax issues.

In the end, she made her choice.

She would pursue Arthur. From that moment on, the light in her eyes when looking at Clayton began to fade.

Clayton, meanwhile, noticed nothing. And even if he had, he would’ve just thought Liora was overthinking things.

In his mind, he wasn’t ready for a relationship. The world was too dangerous, and he still couldn’t even fully protect himself.

...

Time passed quickly, and soon harvest season arrived.

Clayton harvested wheat from his own land, Old Man Wood’s fields, and Grass’s land—accompanied, of course, by his mini skeletons.

From his initial estimates, this year’s harvest looked better than the last. He felt hopeful.

After calculations, his field yielded 30% more than average—around 3,900 kg. Old Man Wood’s land was up 15%, producing 3,450 kg. Grass’s land was up 10%, producing 3,300 kg.

Out of respect, Clayton only took 450 kg from Wood’s share—even though Wood protested. Clayton convinced him by saying that simply introducing him to a brewer had been a huge help.

From Grass’s land, Clayton took half—1,650 kg.

All told, Clayton collected 6,000 kg of wheat. Though it was slightly less than last year, he was satisfied, knowing he’d fairly repaid those who helped him.

Afterward, he checked the sorghum harvest in his dimensional storage. The average yield was 1,000 kg per hectare—a result that left him extremely pleased.

The next day, he went to the city center to pay his taxes.

There, he noticed a lot of people from outside the city. They didn’t look too bad off—likely because there hadn’t been any pests or disasters.

As Clayton watched them, a disturbing thought occurred:

What if this year’s harvest had been bad?

With this many outsiders, they could suck up all the local wheat—and if the government’s reserves fell short, chaos could erupt.

A chill ran down his spine.

Could it be that the pest outbreaks and natural disasters had been... deliberate?

There were just too many coincidences. If that was true, then living in this city was like being a pawn in someone’s game.

Clayton felt deeply unsettled—but he forced himself to stay calm.

When it was his turn, he handed over the tax. The officials didn’t make things difficult, and the amount was reasonable—80% of the average harvest.

That left him with 3,600 kg of wheat.

Clayton then headed to Old Man Vino’s house to sell the rest.

But as he approached, a strange unease crept over him.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

He knocked several times. No answer.

Just as he was about to leave, he heard a slow creak. The door opened.

An old man appeared—pale, ragged, hunched... and terrifying.

Thick, dark red liquid dripped from his mouth and body.

Clayton froze, horrified, rooted to the spot.

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