Wizard Starts Farming With Mini Skeletons
Chapter 118

Chapter 118: Chapter 118

As soon as the group of scruffy-looking men spotted Clayton, one of them stepped forward and asked in a lazy, condescending tone:

"Is this Clayton’s house?"

Clayton froze, startled by the question, but quickly replied, "Yes, I’m Clayton. What’s going on?"

The man gave a slow nod.

"Where were you that night?"

Clayton answered calmly, "At home..."

The man continued firing off questions. At first, Clayton feared his identity had been exposed—that these were subordinates of the gambling boss sent to take revenge. But as he responded calmly to each question, he slowly realized his fears were misplaced.

The men didn’t seem particularly interested in him. It was as if they were just going through the motions.

It made sense. After all, who would believe that Clayton—a mere Three-Star Mage Apprentice—was capable of defeating a powerful Six-Star Mage Apprentice? That unlikely fact alone made the interrogation proceed smoothly.

Meanwhile, Equus was also being questioned. From time to time, he glanced nervously at Clayton, unable to suppress his anxiety. A storm of thoughts churned in his mind: Was the mysterious figure from that night the gambling boss? Why did he try to kill Clayton?

Equus was torn. Should he report what he had seen? He had already resolved to stay out of Clayton’s affairs—but the unease gnawed at him, whispering that he should speak up.

His unstable emotions made him glance toward Clayton more and more frequently.

At first, Clayton didn’t notice. But eventually, their eyes met. Clayton raised a brow, puzzled. Equus froze like a deer in headlights. Flashbacks of that terrifying night raced through his mind. Realizing he had been caught staring, he forced a stiff smile.

In that instant, Equus made his decision: he would say nothing.

Clayton, still confused by the awkward smile, returned it politely—especially since the officials had treated him with decency.

A little while later, the questioning ended.

Watching the disheveled group walk away, Clayton let out a deep breath. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he returned to his room and resumed his alchemy practice—bringing his mini skeletons with him, just in case.

...

Days passed. Since the last visit from the gambling boss’s men, there had been no further disturbances. The peaceful atmosphere allowed Clayton’s training to flourish. His spell scrolls became more refined, and his spellcasting grew stronger.

He also finally mastered the Breath-Holding Technique, allowing him to suppress his aura down to that of a One-Star Mage Apprentice. He didn’t plan to use it right away—but it would serve as a powerful trump card in the future.

Clayton was pleased. Everything seemed to be going just right.

Well, almost everything.

Despite his progress in magic and scrollcraft, one thing continued to frustrate him: his alchemy skills refused to improve. In fact, the more he practiced, the worse his results became.

Every time he neared success, the alchemy furnace would spiral out of control, ruining the potion. It was as if some invisible force were sabotaging him.

He started to wonder: Maybe I’m just not cut out for this. Should I just give up?

But in the end, he kept going. After all, he hadn’t spent any money yet—just used leftover ingredients from the gambling boss’s stash.

"I’ll think about it later," he told himself. "Once I run out of materials, I’ll decide whether to keep going or not."

For now, he wanted to give it his best—so he wouldn’t regret it later.

After a long day of practice, Clayton settled into his nightly routine. He lit some incense, brewed tea, and relaxed. He loved this rhythm—working hard during the day and unwinding at night.

This was the life he wanted to protect.

But as the saying goes: you never know if tomorrow will bring peace... or disaster.

Just as Clayton was enjoying the quiet evening, a knock sounded at the door.

Curious, he stood and went to answer it. Who could it be at this hour? Arthur and Lorenzo were still off in the dungeon, so it couldn’t be them.

He opened the door—and was surprised to find a man in an official uniform standing there.

"Hello, sir. May I help you?" Clayton asked politely.

The city guard gave a respectful nod.

"There will be an important public announcement from the city government tomorrow. Please report to the central field in the farming district on time."

Clayton frowned slightly, puzzled. An announcement? From the city government?

Still, he nodded. "Understood."

"Do you have any questions?" the officer asked.

"No, sir. Everything’s clear."

"Good. Thank you for your time."

The officer moved on to the next house.

Clayton stepped outside briefly and saw that other guards were delivering the same message to his neighbors. He returned to his seat and sipped his tea—but his mind was already wandering.

What kind of announcement could this be?

Thoughts raced through his head, fueled by overthinking—and caffeine. He had trouble falling asleep and didn’t even realize when he finally dozed off.

...

The next morning, Clayton woke up later than usual. He didn’t mind—winter left him with few obligations anyway.

After getting ready, he made his way to the central field as instructed. Along the way, he exchanged greetings with a few familiar faces, including Liora, but didn’t linger. His mind was elsewhere.

Upon arrival, everyone was directed to stand in designated zones.

Clayton scanned the crowd and noticed a group that stood out—they looked thinner, more worn down. After a moment, he recognized them: the unemployed drifters who often wandered the city.

Strange... why are they being gathered here too?

As the crowd waited, murmurs and idle chatter filled the air.

Soon, a group of city officials arrived.

"All right, everyone. Please pay attention," announced a middle-aged man, his voice firm but not overbearing.

Suddenly, an overwhelming aura swept across the field—the oppressive pressure of a Nine-Star Mage Apprentice.

Everyone stiffened in fear—including Clayton.

Ugh... so this is the aura of a high-tier mage?

Even from a distance, it felt like his internal organs were rattling—like they could burst at any moment.

Once the crowd had quieted, the man began speaking.

"...Recently, the city of Sunlight has seen an increase in unrest and disturbances. The government has been working hard to address these concerns. After much deliberation, we’ve decided to implement several new policies..."

Clayton listened carefully.

"...First, gatherings of five or more people are now prohibited within city limits."

"...No loud disturbances of any kind will be tolerated."

Each rule was stated clearly. Clayton found himself nodding. These won’t solve everything, but they might at least reduce the chaos.

Then came the announcement that stunned everyone:

"...From this point forward, all citizens are required to enter the dungeon."

The crowd erupted.

Clayton’s eyes widened. Did I hear that right?

He turned to those around him and quickly realized—he had.

Everyone had.

Panic spread like wildfire. Not just for Clayton, but for every person in the field.

Some might have accepted dungeon exploration voluntarily—but a mandatory policy was a different story.

Tension crackled through the crowd like lightning.

Clayton began inching backward, nervous that things might escalate.

And sure enough—amid the rising panic, a loud explosion rang out.

Bang!

"Damn it," Clayton muttered. "I knew this was going to blow up!"