The strange symbols etched into Clayton’s body began to flicker more brightly as ti passed.
The night was deathly silent, the darkness as thick as ink. Then, suddenly, Dingo—the dog lying beside Clayton—snapped awake.
Oddly enough, Dingo made no sound. Instead, he stared off into the distance, his gaze uncertain. Curious, he began sniffing the air. Monts later, as if catching a scent, he slipped out of the tent and trotted off toward its source.
A few monts passed, followed by a sharp, loud bark from outside.
Clayton jolted awake.
Familiar with Dingo’s barking, he quickly looked around the tent—but Dingo was nowhere in sight.
Clayton’s eyes widened.
"Sothing’s wrong," he muttered.
Wasting no ti, he rushed out to find him.
"Dingo? Where are you? What’s going on?"
Gemma and her children stirred awake. The translucent stag joined in the search.
Dingo wasn’t in the tent. Clayton hurried outside. There, he spotted Dingo growling in one direction, flanked by several miniature skeletons standing at the ready.
The sight imdiately raised Clayton’s suspicions. Who—or what—was Dingo threatening?
He rembered the last ti Dingo had acted like this. They had ended up in a fight with soone dangerous.
Clayton’s instincts took over.
"Who are you? What do you want from ?" he called out firmly, taking the initiative.
Now that he was exposed, there was no point in hesitating.
But silence answered him. The darkness remained still.
Clayton frowned.
"I’ll ask again—who are you? If you have no business here, then leave. I won’t rest easy with strangers nearby!"
Still, there was no reply.
He hesitated. Could Dingo have been mistaken?
No. He dismissed the thought imdiately.
"Or... maybe Dingo didn’t sense a human. Maybe it’s a monster—sothing that can’t speak."
His curiosity deepened. He thought about moving closer, but at the last second, he changed his mind—and launched a surprise attack instead.
He wasn’t about to risk an ambush. At the sa ti, the skeletons attacked.
Bursts of water and magical waves slamd into the area, tearing apart the surroundings.
"Argh!"
A man’s scream echoed through the dead of night.
Clayton tensed.
Two well-dressed n stepped out from the shadows.
He stared at them—he had never seen these people before.
"Who are you? What do you want from ? Why didn’t you answer when I called—and why were you hiding?" he demanded, suspicion heavy in his voice.
The n didn’t respond. They simply attacked.
Clayton quickly chanted a spell. In re seconds, both attackers lay dead at his feet.
After confirming the area was safe, he approached their bodies.
Judging by their attire and equipnt, they were likely nobles.
Suddenly, a strange light shot out from one of the corpses, flying straight toward him.
Startled, Clayton tried to dodge, but the light moved too fast—he couldn’t avoid it.
He braced himself for impact, expecting the worst. But after a few monts, nothing happened.
He stood there, confused.
Then it hit him—he had experienced sothing similar after killing Darlik.
Frowning, he opened his shirt.
His eyes widened in disbelief. More strange symbols had appeared on his body, several of them blinking rapidly—as if trying to communicate sothing.
He tried everything to get rid of them—channeling mana, using light magic, dark magic, even purification spells—but nothing worked.
His face turned pale. One of the symbols was blinking faster and faster.
Just as panic began to take hold, Dingo barked in a specific direction.
Already on edge, Clayton forced himself to look where Dingo was pointing.
Right then, an arrow tore through the air toward him at terrifying speed.
Sensing danger, Clayton dodged and counterattacked.
Bang!
His attack missed. Another arrow followed—proof the enemy was unhard.
Clayton realized he couldn’t remain in the open. His opponent was hidden in the darkness and had the upper hand.
"Pride! Surround that archer—now!" he ordered the skeletons.
Pride imdiately rallied the others and led the charge.
Bang!
Snap!
A barrage of water magic pelted the target area.
Clayton advanced with them.
Eventually, he caught sight of a tall, lean man locked in battle with the skeletons.
Despite being surrounded, the archer moved with surprising agility—dodging gracefully and striking back with precise aim.
Clayton narrowed his eyes. If this continued, the archer could destroy all of his skeletons.
But instead of pressing the attack, Clayton hesitated.
Sothing else had caught his attention.
The man had appeared right as the symbols on Clayton’s body began glowing intensely.
"Who are you? Do you have sothing to do with these markings on my body?"
The archer froze—then burst out laughing.
"Ahahaha! And here I thought the one who slaughtered so many noble families would be a real threat... but you’re just a clueless fool!"
Clayton went silent. There was sothing hidden in those words.
"What do you an? These symbols... are they connected to you?"
The archer sneered, full of arrogance.
"Even if I told you, what would it change? You’re going to die anyway. But hey, consider yourself lucky. At least you’ll die with a little knowledge."
He drew his bow.
"Arrow Technique, Tornado!"
The arrow flew, spinning violently, wrapped in swirling green wind.
Sensing its threat, Clayton quickly dodged.
Bang!
He unleashed a scroll infused with pollution magic, throwing the archer into a montary illusion.
While his opponent was distracted, Clayton’s skeletons struck.
Snap! Snap!
The archer’s vital points were hit. He collapsed, groaning in pain.
"H-How...?" he gasped in disbelief.
"Hahaha! Nothing’s impossible in this world. Now, if you want to live, answer my question!"
The archer hesitated.
"If I answer... will you let live?"
"No one knows," Clayton said ambiguously.
The archer scowled and looked away, refusing to speak.
Clayton sighed.
"I gave you a chance. You turned it down."
The archer scoffed. He thought Clayton was bluffing. Surely he wouldn’t kill soone who had valuable information.
But Clayton could see through him completely. Without hesitation, he fired—killing the man instantly.
The archer’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Was Clayton insane? Didn’t he understand the value of information in a world of swords and sorcery?
But the question would never be answered. He died on the spot.
Clayton reached into his dinsional pouch and pulled out a scroll. He channeled mana into it.
mories and visions flooded his mind.
After processing everything, Clayton clenched his jaw and muttered in frustration:
"Damn it... looks like I’m in real trouble this ti."
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