Wizard Starts Farming With Mini Skeletons

Clayton's head felt like it was about to explode as the black light tore through his mind. At the same time, thick, oily liquid—putrid and black—began oozing from every opening in his head: his ears, mouth, nose, and even his eyes.

The slime clung to his skin, sticky and revolting, reeking of rotting corpses. Clayton squirmed, but his body was paralyzed—unable to move. He was trapped in pure agony.

Gemma, seeing her master in such a horrific state, panicked. She wanted to rush to him but hesitated, fearing that interference might make things worse.

Unbeknownst to Clayton, the remains of the shadow creature had turned into a familiar black mist. It slowly condensed, then seeped into the surrounding skeletons.

Their eye sockets—once faintly lit with the flames of their souls—now flared brighter and fiercer after absorbing the dark mist.

The black light continued to swirl inside Clayton's skull until, at last, it dissipated.

As the torment faded, Clayton exhaled sharply, his chest heaving in relief. Though wracked with lingering pain, he was no longer frozen. He lay still, focusing on recovery.

Seeing him begin to stabilize, Gemma cautiously approached and sat beside him in silence.

After a while, Clayton managed to sit up and straighten his posture.

"Whew… Thank goodness that's over," he muttered.

Even in his weakened state, he could tell something had changed. Though still exhausted and only partially alert, he could feel it—something within him had transformed.

It was as if his soul had undergone a deep purification.

His mind felt sharper. His senses more acute. His thoughts light and quick, free of the mental fog that had plagued him for so long. It was like his brain's "software" had just been wiped clean and freshly updated. His mind now felt like a finely honed blade.

Thanks to this mental upgrade, Clayton discovered he could now multitask with ease—casting two different spells simultaneously. His casting speed had also increased dramatically.

After examining himself further and confirming his condition was stable, Clayton concluded that, like in the previous trial, he had been rewarded for enduring great hardship. Last time, he had gained physical strength. This time, his mind and soul had been enhanced.

And that wasn't all—alongside his newfound mastery over light-attribute magic, he now possessed knowledge of dark-attribute magic as well.

He grinned. Soul and mind abilities were notoriously difficult to access—especially for a rogue mage like him.

With the ordeal complete, Clayton and his familiars began to glow. Moments later, their figures vanished from the dark realm.

...

In a lush, green forest, a man suddenly appeared—accompanied by a deer and several skeletons.

Realizing the area was safe, Clayton exhaled, his body relaxing for the first time in a while. He started walking, intending to scout the surroundings.

But he hadn't gone far when he spotted someone in the distance, stumbling toward him.

Suspicion rose in his chest. The figure looked oddly familiar—and though moving quickly, he seemed badly injured.

Clayton slowed and raised his guard.

As the man came closer, Clayton's eyes widened. He prepared to defend himself if needed.

They passed each other without incident. The stranger gave Clayton a puzzled look—clearly surprised by his defensive stance—but said nothing and simply continued on.

Only after the man had disappeared did Clayton finally let out a breath. His heart was pounding.

And who could blame him?

The man once caused a great commotion at the entrance of the exam hall by successfully pulling a sword from a stone in front of both nobles and commoners. Even more astonishingly, he emerged from the incident completely unscathed.

Clayton didn't want anything to do with someone like that. Too unpredictable. Too dangerous.

He continued deeper into the forest.

Before long, a group of people came running toward him.

Clayton stopped, wary.

"Hey! Did you see someone pass through here?" one of them asked urgently.

Clayton hesitated, then realized they were referring to the man he had just encountered.

"Yes," he said truthfully, pointing in the direction the man had gone. "He went that way."

"Can you describe him?"

Clayton frowned slightly. He didn't appreciate being interrogated, but decided to cooperate.

He described the man's appearance and movements as best he could.

The group nodded in satisfaction, thanked him, and quickly took off after their target.

Once alone again, Clayton resumed walking—but with no clear destination, he soon realized he was lost.

Still, he didn't panic. There were ways to get his bearings.

As the sun began to set, he decided to find a safe place to rest. He ordered his skeletons to scout the area while he did the same.

At first, he was confident. But after wandering for a while, something felt wrong.

"Damn it... Am I trapped? Haven't I passed this tree already?" he muttered.

To be sure, he marked the tree, then walked away.

But somehow, he ended up back at the same tree.

Frustration and unease gnawed at him. He called out for his familiars.

"Pride! Gemma! Where are you?!" he shouted.

No response.

He called again, louder and more urgently.

"Pride! Lust! Gemma! Regroup! Don't make me worry!"

Still nothing.

Clayton moved forward cautiously, trying to avoid triggering another loop. But again and again, he found himself back at the same place—with no sign of his companions.

Exhausted, frustrated, and increasingly anxious, he finally sat down to wait. Time passed. Half an hour slipped by, and still no sign of his familiars.

He didn't know what else to do.

Then he noticed something: the forest was too quiet. No insect hum. No rustling leaves. No wind.

In a forest, you'd typically hear the buzz of insects or the occasional rustle of wind through the trees. That's why people don't usually describe forests as silent, but rather as peaceful.

A forest is never truly silent; it's filled with countless subtle and varied sounds that somehow create a sense of tranquility for those who listen.

It wasn't peaceful. It was unnatural.

Clayton's instincts screamed.

He recalled the dark magic manipulation technique he had just learned and began casting a detection spell.

The dark energy surged wildly in his mind. He felt dizzy, nauseous, restless—but pressed on.

When the spell completed, his vision changed. The scenery warped slightly. A strange pressure pressed on his skull—like something unseen was clinging to him.

He turned—and froze.

As Clayton turned his head, he was shocked to see a pair of compound eyes and a body covered in thick, terrifying hair staring back at him.