Wizard Starts Farming With Mini Skeletons

BOOM!

Clayton snapped out of his frozen state as the ground continued to quake and scorching debris flew in all directions.

His skin stung from the searing heat, confirming this was no dream. Panic gripped him as he sprinted toward the Trial Gate, which was moments from opening. But he wasn't alone—hundreds of others were also scrambling to escape.

The crowd pressed in tightly, panic erupting like wildfire. People shoved, screamed, and trampled over those who fell.

Amid the chaos, Clayton focused on staying upright. One wrong move, and he'd be crushed. Just as he began looking for cover, a blazing chunk of molten rock shot toward him.

His eyes widened in terror. He had no room to dodge—it was packed shoulder to shoulder.

With nowhere to run, Clayton had only one choice: block the attack.

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to act, chanting rapidly.

"Water Magic: Wave of Water !"

Moisture from the air condensed into a towering, churning wave. It looked impressive—but its power was limited. People nearby scoffed, mocking the weakness of his spell.

Clayton ignored them. All that mattered was the incoming magma.

CCHHSSHHH…

The moment the water collided with the magma, a sharp hiss exploded into the air, followed by a thick cloud of choking white steam.

Clayton clenched his jaw, focusing harder. He had to keep the wave intact, had to buy himself time. But the water was rapidly evaporating.

Sweat streamed down his face as the molten mass pushed through, now only inches from his body.

The heat was unbearable. It scorched his skin and clouded his thoughts.

If only I could move this thing somewhere else, he thought, despair creeping in. If I had spatial magic, this wouldn't be a problem…

Dark thoughts filled his mind. Is this it? Is this how I die?

But just as he was about to give in, an idea struck him.

He moved quickly—desperately—and in a blink, the chunk of magma vanished.

Relief crashed over him like a wave.

"Hah! I did it! I'm alive!" he shouted, laughing in disbelief.

Then it hit him—he did have spatial magic: Dimensional Entry. When the magma slowed down enough, he'd transferred it into his dimensional storage. And since he controlled that space entirely, the heat didn't damage anything inside.

But the moment of triumph didn't last.

A sharp, stabbing pain tore through his skull, like his brain was about to explode.

Gasping, Clayton yanked out a bottle of tea from his storage and chugged it. Days ago, he'd stockpiled emergency supplies—just in case.

That choice had just saved his life.

Gradually, the pain eased. He realized then: moving large or powerful objects into dimensional space came at a cost. Spatial manipulation demanded immense mental energy.

He'd have to be careful using it again.

Despite the lingering ache, Clayton pushed himself forward, running toward the gate.

People who had survived thanks to him looked on with awe—but no one said a word. They were all too focused on escaping.

Clayton didn't care if they stared, suspected, or recognized him.

Right now, nothing mattered except surviving.

He sprinted toward the Trial Gate. Obstacles popped up along the way, but he pushed through them all.

The gate was finally in sight—only a few dozen meters ahead.

Hope surged.

He pushed harder, faster.

But just as safety seemed within reach, the ground shook violently—far worse than before. The tremor threw him off balance, and he crashed to the ground.

Gritting his teeth, he scrambled back up.

That's when he felt it.

Heat—intense, smothering heat—rising behind him.

He glanced back and nearly froze.

A massive wall of molten red was racing toward him like a tidal wave.

This wasn't water. It was pure, liquid death.

Clayton's heart pounded. He ran.

He ran like hell.

But the lava—though it seemed slow—was faster than him. Hot air scorched his back. It was gaining.

He was going to die.

Still, he didn't stop.

In a last-ditch effort, Clayton tried the same combo: Water Wave + Dimensional Entry.

It worked—temporarily.

As the wave stalled the lava, he got an idea: what if he rode the water instead of just using it to block?

He cast the spell again—Water Magic: Wave Of Water—and this time tried to surf the wave forward.

It gave him a boost, but it wasn't enough. Not fast enough.

He needed something more.

Scanning his inventory in his mind, he grew desperate.

Then, something caught his eye: a black marble.

Strangely, it called to him.

He paused for just a second—and saw a word in his observation entry:

"Tracking…?"

His eyes lit up.

Clayton shaped his hand like a gun and loaded the black marble.

Snap!

A shot of water magic propelled the marble far ahead.

"Water Magic: Wave of Water !

Condensed moisture formed another massive wave.

Clayton jumped onto it.

The wave moved fast—faster than before.

He had attributed a "tracking" attribute to the wave, linked to the marble. As the marble possessed a "soul" serving as an anchor, the wave naturally followed its path.

It worked perfectly.

Clayton surged forward on the wave, laughing with wild joy.

"HAHAHA! Genius move!"

The wave chased the marble like a loyal beast.

Clayton rode it all the way to the Trial Gate—and made it.

He tumbled onto the ground, gasping, flushed with adrenaline and disbelief.

He had survived.

Looking around, he saw nothing but chaos.

Then his eyes narrowed.

In the distance… something strange caught his attention.

His breath hitched.

"No way... was that guy behind all this?"

Far off, a lone figure stood before the sword embedded in stone—a legendary trial no one had ever conquered.

And that figure was pulling it out.

As if completely unaffected by the molten magma surrounding him, the figure calmly raised his sword high.

Clayton watched in disbelief, his eyes widening.

Despite the chaos unleashed by the mysterious figure, many of the city's powerful families remained alert—and possessed the strength to swiftly close in on the one who had drawn the sword.

Clayton could vaguely sense that a fierce battle was about to erupt.

But before he could witness the epic clash, his body suddenly flickered—and he vanished from the spot.