Seeing that it was Bravus and his group approaching, Clayton didn't even bother reacting. He continued packing up his things.
"Hey, what's the rush? Is our Young Master feeling embarrassed?" Bravus called out, his voice dripping with scorn.
The surrounding crowd, catching on to his tone, also began sneering as they glanced toward Clayton.
anwhile, Equus was observing Clayton's wares with an unusually serious expression. Deep down, he was terrified of finding sothing that might confirm his suspicion—that Clayton was a cold-blooded killer.
Despite his fear, he forced himself to search. But after a thorough inspection, he found nothing. A strange sense of disappointnt washed over him—a contradictory emotion he didn't quite understand.
On the other hand, Arthur's interest in Clayton only grew. He had been hunting with Bravus and his group for the past few days.
They had made significant gains during those hunts. This was their second visit to the market to sell their spoils. Thanks to the ti spent together, they had all grown closer, and Arthur had gained a better grasp of everyone's personalities.
From what he had observed, Arthur knew that Equus used to mock Clayton the sa way Bravus did now. But no one really knew why Equus suddenly changed his attitude.
Arthur, with his sharp mind and well-placed connections, had a pretty good idea of what had happened: Equus had likely incited soone to rob Clayton—but that person had mysteriously vanished.
Coincidentally, the house Arthur currently lived in had once belonged to that very person.
As for Bravus, Arthur wasn't sure why he had suddenly started targeting Clayton. But he did notice Bravus seed unusually confident lately.
Arthur knew exactly where that confidence ca from—a special item. It was a bottle of perfu that attracted low-one star-ranked monsters.
The scent had no effect on humans or other magical creatures, but it was irresistibly alluring to wild beasts of a certain rank.
Thanks to that perfu, Bravus stood out among the common hired farrs. His value rose, and with it, his self-esteem.
Arthur, intrigued, wondered where Bravus had gotten the perfu—or if he could acquire one himself. If so, it would make solo hunting far more profitable.
But out of respect and tact, Arthur held back his curiosity.
His growing interest in Clayton led him to examine the young man's wares. Soon, his eyes lit up.
"Clayton, are these magic scrolls for sale?"
He leaned in to inspect them more closely and found exactly what he was looking for.
"This is amazing! You made these yourself, didn't you? I never expected you to be capable of this!"
Clayton, usually too lazy to talk, finally replied when he saw it was Arthur asking.
"Ah, yeah. I was just ssing around. They probably still have lots of flaws and are below market quality. Are you interested?"
Arthur nodded, eyes still wide with wonder.
Bravus, unable to keep quiet, scoffed at the scene.
"Well, our Young Master sure knows how to waste ti. Instead of farming, you're playing around with scrolls? Not afraid of going broke?"
So people around nodded in agreent, their expressions laced with envy.
They were farmhands, well aware of how low their position ranked in a world ruled by swords and magic. They dread of becoming formation masters, alchemists, magic scroll writers, or artifact refiners.
But they all knew those professions required both imnse capital and innate talent. Even with money, success was never guaranteed.
In the world of magic, the gap between the gifted and the average was like heaven and earth. So they secretly envied Clayton's courage. Since they couldn't imitate him, mocking was all they had.
Arthur, however, disagreed with Bravus. He could tell Clayton had at least so talent. The scrolls on display were neatly made and felt solid.
Still, Arthur chose not to argue. He needed Bravus's cooperation for their next hunt, especially for using the monster-attracting perfu.
So he simply kept his thoughts to himself and said, "Alright, Clayton, I'll take a few and give them a try."
Bravus frowned.
"Arthur, are you serious? Why bother with this junk? If one of those scrolls fails at a critical mont, it could cost you your life."
Arthur just shook his head slightly. Inside, he thought Bravus was being shortsighted. Sure, Clayton's scrolls weren't perfect—but people shouldn't only judge the final product. The creator was still young, and his magical strength wasn't lacking. That said a lot. To Arthur, this purchase was an investnt in the future.
But all he said aloud was, "It's fine. We neighbors ought to support each other, right?"
Bravus didn't like that response, but he held his tongue—he knew better than to offend Arthur, the strongest among them.
Clayton, overhearing their conversation, was initially confused. He had assud people would ignore his scrolls, especially after several mages had rejected them earlier.
But seeing Arthur's genuine interest, he realized this wasn't a joke. His motivation returned as he eagerly started packing so scrolls for him.
"How much for all this?" Arthur asked.
"No need," Clayton replied. "Take them. Think of it as a welco gift for a new neighbor."
Arthur imdiately refused. "No way. These must've cost a fair amount of magic crystals to make."
"Not really," Clayton insisted.
After going back and forth a few tis, they finally settled on a trade.
Arthur received:
Five Rain Scrolls Five Water Pistol Scrolls Five Pollution Scrolls
Each scroll was worth one low-grade magic crystal.
In return, Clayton received one kilogram of low-star-ranked wild goat at—worth at least three low-grade magic crystals. A fair deal, especially since at usually cost 3-5 tis more than grains.
With that, Clayton packed up and went ho, while Arthur and the others headed off to sell their at.
On the way back, Clayton stopped by his usual supply shop to buy more materials for scroll-making. Once ho, he imdiately cooked the at he got from Arthur, devoured it, and even fed so to his dog.
As the warmth from the at spread through his body, Clayton took the chance to train his Knight techniques. In just a few minutes, he was drenched in sweat, and his strength grew slightly.
"As I thought, monster at really boosts Knight training," he muttered, satisfied but resigned. "Black snakehead fish last ti, goat this ti... If only it wasn't so expensive."
Later, he harvested so tea leaves according to the notes he had prepared.
A few days passed, and after a series of ticulous steps, his Autumn Blend tea was finally complete. The batch was small—just a handful of dried leaves, enough to run out quickly if consud daily.
Excited to try it, Clayton boiled water and added a few leaves to his cup. As the hot water poured in, a rich aroma filled the room, instantly calming his nerves.
That alone told him the tea was a success.
He took a slow sip, letting the warmth coat his tongue.
As the tea touched his tongue, a sense of clarity and peace washed over him—like breathing in fresh forest air on a rainy morning.
His eyes sparkled. He took another sip.
"Ahhh~" he sighed, thoroughly satisfied.
He hadn't felt this calm in ages. Then, an idea struck him.
He rushed to grab a pen and paper and began drawing runes. When he finally finished the last stroke, a soft glow shimred from the page.
"Yes! This one's way more perfect!" he shouted in joy.
The tea's tranquil effect made scroll-making flow much smoother. His timing, energy control, mana precision, and focus had all improved. Clayton was overjoyed. He decided this tea would beco a must-have whenever crafting scrolls in the future.
But just as he was basking in his success, loud voices erupted from outside.
"Clayton! Clayton! Are you ho?!"
The shouting shattered the serenity like glass. Clayton sighed and set down his cup, the aftertaste of peace fading fast.
Sothing was coming.
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