Wizard Starts Farming With Mini Skeletons

The moment Clayton saw the towering wall of water, his body tensed. Only one thought echoed in his mind: Run!

Shaking with panic, he scrambled to his feet and bolted as fast as he could. But the fear gripping him was so intense, his legs felt like jelly.

He moved sluggishly, stumbling several times, nearly falling flat on his face. Yet, driven by a desperate will to survive, each time he fell, he forced himself back up.

He kept glancing back, heart pounding, watching the state of the water wall. Though it hadn't collapsed yet, it was still growing—both in volume and pressure.

Clayton silently thanked the heavens that the tsunami's formation was taking long enough to buy him time. But that same fact terrified him. If the wave truly broke loose, the devastation would be unimaginable.

Fueled by raw survival instinct, Clayton pushed himself harder, racing toward the trial gate. The sight of it growing closer filled him with hope.

But just as he thought he was in the clear, a lightning serpent shot toward him. Sensing the deadly threat, Clayton swiftly activated his circulating water armor. However, in his panic, he hadn't fully formed the protective layer. The incomplete coverage allowed electricity to strike him, locking up his muscles.

Frozen in place, Clayton could do nothing as he slowly regained feeling—just in time to see the tsunami begin to shift… then explode outward in all directions.

Panicking, Clayton tried to flee again. But from afar, Harpy who had been watching the chaos with discontent suddenly attacked. he, too, saw the incoming wave, but instead of fleeing, he accepted him fate—intent on dragging Clayton down with him.

Clayton clearly didn't share that sentiment. But no matter how hard he tried, Harpy blocked every attempt to escape.

"This bitch is the absolute worst! If you want to die, fine—just don't take me with you!" Clayton shouted in frustration.

Though he hadn't suffered any serious injuries yet, the mental toll of everything was quickly wearing him down. Moments later, the tsunami reached the Harpy, sweeping him away in an instant.

Clayton was finally free from him interference—but there was no time to celebrate. The wave was closing in fast. Panic surged through him again as he formed a spherical water dome—soft on the outside to absorb impact, dense and solid within.

The water sphere rolled with the current, protecting Clayton from direct damage. But it tumbled unpredictably, and he feared being swept into something worse. So, he took a risk: maintaining the dome while attempting to steer it using the surrounding water.

It was difficult at first, but eventually, he managed to get the hang of it. Still, the effort pushed him to his limits—his body held out, but his mind felt like it was melting from the strain.

By sheer willpower, Clayton directed the sphere toward the trial gate. As he passed through its boundary, he finally sighed in relief. The floodwaters couldn't breach the gate.

For the first time in what felt like ages, he was safe.

He took a moment to observe the destruction. The area outside was completely flooded—chaos and devastation everywhere. People floated helplessly in the aftermath.

If someone back in my old world had recorded this and posted it online… it would've gone viral in seconds, he thought bitterly.

Still, as he processed everything, he realized the tsunami hadn't been as lethal as it could've been. Most likely, its creator hadn't intended to kill, only to scatter the crowd. If the attack had been any stronger, it would've turned into mass slaughter.

Even so, this "fake" tsunami had caused real damage—and real casualties.

Clayton felt lucky just to be alive.

Before long, his body began to flicker and fade, signaling the end of the trial.

Surrounded by cold silence, a mystical voice echoed in the darkness:

"Leave the shadows…"

...

In a modest room, a young man bolted upright, overwhelmed with discomfort. Instinctively, he clutched his head in pain.

"Ugh… what the hell just happened?" he groaned.

As the pain slowly faded, he looked around—and froze.

Wait... I was just in a magical world. How did I end up back in my bedroom?

The young man was none other than Clayton.

He sat in stunned silence, trying to make sense of everything. After a while, only one conclusion surfaced:

Was it… all just a dream?

But he immediately dismissed the idea. If it was just a dream… why did it feel so real?

Before he could think any further, his phone buzzed. Out of habit, he picked it up.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Clayton! Why the hell aren't you at work?! I gave you an important task! Are you seriously ignoring it?!"

His boss's angry voice snapped him back to reality. The assignment he'd completely forgotten surged back into his mind.

Panic and guilt set in as he frantically apologized, trying to calm his boss down.

Moments later, he rushed to get dressed and headed straight to the office.

As soon as he arrived, he dove into work. But it wasn't long before his boss stormed over, furious.

"You! Why isn't this done yet?! I don't care what it takes—have it finished by eleven! We've got an important meeting!"

Clayton could only nod and apologize, enduring the pitying stares and whispered remarks of his coworkers.

If that other world hadn't been a dream… how amazing that would've been, he thought bitterly.

With barely any time left, he managed to finish the task just ten minutes before the deadline. His boss came to check it.

Fortunately, the results were acceptable. The man nodded with approval.

"Good. You'll present this to the executives later."

Clayton bowed politely. "Understood, sir."

His boss left, proud of the results. Clayton, meanwhile, swallowed his frustration.

If I still had magic… I'd blast that guy into orbit, he thought with a sarcastic smirk.

...

That afternoon, Clayton entered the conference room. The executives hadn't arrived yet, but many colleagues were already there. He set up his materials and waited.

Before long, a group of well-dressed, authoritative men stepped into the room. Everyone rose to greet them, Clayton included.

Once formalities were over, the meeting began.

When it was his turn, Clayton confidently stepped forward and began presenting. Since the content was based on his own works, he delivered it fluently.

But as he spoke, one of the executives' expressions grew darker and darker. Clayton's boss noticed and started sweating nervously.

Eventually, the presentation ended, and Clayton opened the floor for questions.

"Any questions?" he asked calmly, unaware of the building tension.

A stern-faced executive raised his hand. His expression was unreadable, but his tightly clenched jaw hinted at restrained fury.

"Yes, sir?" Clayton prompted, still composed.

Some of the staff looked around anxiously, realizing something was wrong. But Clayton remained oblivious.

The executive stood up and shouted:

"Who told you to prepare this report?!"

Clayton froze, stunned.

His eyes darted around the room, trying to understand what had gone wrong.

Then the man snapped again.

"Who approved this data and this action plan? Are you trying to destroy the company?!"

The room fell silent. Every person in the room was frozen in terror.