Wizard Starts Farming With Mini Skeletons

Clayton couldn't help but scrutinize the two groups approaching from a distance.

From what he observed, the once neat and noble-looking individuals now bore no trace of their former elegance. Apparently, they'd been fighting not just the skeletal minions Clayton had left behind—but each other as well.

To Clayton, that was good news. It meant they still hadn't formed an alliance.

Acting quickly, he positioned himself on the opposite side of the area, putting the monster between himself and the incoming groups. His plan was simple: if anyone was going to walk into that beast's jaws, it sure wasn't going to be him. He executed the strategy while staying alert for any sign of the stone-scaled serpent.

After a short while, his preparations were complete—just in time, too. His pursuers were beginning to approach.

But as they charged toward him, their feet suddenly halted mid-stride—as if they'd slammed into an invisible wall. Clayton quickly realized: he was still inside the dome.

A mix of relief and regret washed over him. Relief, because he wouldn't have to worry about being attacked while dealing with the serpent. Regret, because any hope of outside help—no matter how unlikely—was now completely out of reach.

Left with no other choice, Clayton returned to the fight, still struggling against the monstrous serpent.

Earlier, his strategy had been simple: dodge, evade, and survive. But the monster had adapted. Its attacks were faster now, more precise. His body bore the consequences—fresh wounds and searing pain reminded him that one more direct hit might be his last.

Realizing this, he began launching ranged attacks.

But every time he repositioned, the serpent would release a cloud of poison.

At first, Clayton wasn't overly concerned. The toxin wasn't potent enough to pierce his magical defenses. But then he noticed something—his movements were becoming sluggish, like he'd been drugged.

Alarmed, he activated his observation spell to scan his condition. His eyes widened—he was poisoned. Worse, the venom had already entered his bloodstream.

But how? There was no poison present in the visible wound.

Then he understood: the poison was airborne. It had evaporated and entered through his lungs. The very air meant to nourish his body had betrayed him.

Acting fast, Clayton chewed some pine sap and activated his purification entry to slow the poison's spread. Thankfully, the remedy bought him just enough time to breathe—literally.

"Phew... I almost died without even realizing it," he muttered, half-laughing, half-shaken.

In this world of swords and sorcery, anything was possible.

As the battle continued, a thunderous sound echoed from outside the dome.

Clayton turned toward the source.

The two groups outside were now trying to break through the transparent barrier.

Clayton snorted. He knew better than anyone how strong it was. No matter how many of them tried, they weren't going to crack it. Only he had the key—that's why he could pass through at will.

With that thought, he dismissed them from his mind and refocused on the fight.

Bang!

Boom!

More blasts followed. Clayton couldn't believe how stubborn they were. They genuinely thought some kind of treasure was hidden inside—when in reality, the dome housed a deadly predator.

The truth was, the dome wasn't protecting Clayton from the outside world—it was protecting the outside world from the serpent.

Still, the creature continued its relentless assault. Clayton found it strange. Why wasn't it reacting to the chaos outside? Could it somehow sense that no one could enter or escape?

He examined it more closely. The monster bled when injured. It reacted to pain. But it showed no sign of awareness—none. It attacked only him, completely ignoring even the skeletal minions that were swarming it from every direction.

"Something's off about this serpent…" Clayton muttered.

But before he could analyze further, its attacks intensified. Still, his instincts told him—figuring out the anomaly might be the key to defeating it.

Bang!

Swoosh!

The noise outside grew louder. Magic blasts, shouting, impact after impact.

Clayton tried to shut it out—they weren't a threat at the moment.

But the constant pounding and explosions broke his concentration. His combat rhythm began to falter.

"Aghhh! My body's slowing down! If only they weren't distracting me, maybe I'd have figured out a way to beat this thing!" Clayton shouted in frustration.

For a moment, he even considered wiping them all out once this was over.

Then, suddenly—it hit him.

"Wait... Why haven't I just run away?! Why am I so obsessed with killing this thing?"

He stared at the dome's edge. "I have the key. I can leave anytime. Why am I forcing this fight?"

Clayton froze, then burst out laughing at himself. All this time, he'd convinced himself that defeating the serpent was the only way forward—when it wasn't.

Ironically, the chaos outside had jolted him out of that mindset. He owed his clarity to their recklessness.

Revitalized, he sprinted toward the edge of the dome, preparing to escape.

The monster, of course, didn't let him go easily. It lunged once more.

But Clayton didn't care. He ordered his skeletons to swarm it, pulling its focus away.

Watching the creature's rigid, unnatural movements, a new thought crossed his mind.

"It moves like a machine… No instincts, no emotions. Just... programming."

Could it be artificial?

He pushed the thought aside—right now, the priority was escape.

Heart pounding, he prepared to chant the Vibration Harmony Spell and open a gap in the barrier.

But just as the first word formed on his lips—

Boom!

A barrage of spells rained down from the outside. Clayton instinctively stepped back, startled.

Those idiots still hadn't given up.

Their spells couldn't break the dome, but the timing couldn't have been worse.

If he opened a gap now, even for a second, they might force their way in—and that could be a disaster. He was too wounded. If they ambushed him the moment he opened the way, he might not survive.

Clayton bit his lip.

He had to find a way to escape safely.

Swoosh!

Just then, something shot toward him—fast, heavy, and rock-hard. If he hadn't dodged in time, it would've taken his head clean off.