Clayton remained lost in thought, unaware of the growing tension among the group watching him.
While the strange rat didn't look particularly dangerous, its two oversized yellow incisors—stained with the dried blood of past prey—sent shivers down their spines.
The rat moved swiftly, nearly sinking its fangs into Clayton's exposed neck.
Puchi!
Fortunately, one of Clayton's ever-present mini skeletons leapt in to shield him, throwing itself between the rat and its master. The impact sent Clayton sprawling backward as the small skeleton shattered on the spot. The rat's attack packed a surprisingly explosive punch.
Snapping back to reality, Clayton scrambled to his feet and quickly retreated. Seeing him back away, the rat charged again—interpreting his movement as a sign of fear.
But what it didn't expect was a swift and powerful counterattack.
Bang!
The rat was flung aside, struck by one of the other skeletons. Clayton exhaled in relief, impressed by the quick response of his bone-white guardians. Before the rat could recover, another skeleton—the one wielding a hoe—swung it down with force.
Unfortunately, the rat dodged at the last second, and the hoe struck the ground with a dull thud. Even so, Clayton wasn't disappointed. On the contrary—now the remaining six skeletons had completely surrounded their target.
Sensing the perfect moment, Clayton gave the order.
"Alright, fire now!"
Snap! Snap!
All six skeletons launched water projectiles at the rat in unison. At first, the creature managed to dodge a few, but the coordinated barrage left it with nowhere to run. Cornered, the rat was overwhelmed and killed.
Clayton let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Arthur and the others couldn't hide their amazement.
"Clayton, that was incredible! I didn't expect you to be this strong. A single low-rank one-star monster usually takes three apprentice mages to bring down—and you did it solo!" Arthur exclaimed, eyes gleaming.
The other tenant farmers nodded in agreement, visibly impressed.
But Clayton quickly downplayed the praise.
"No, not at all... That was just luck. Honestly, I'm probably not much different from your average apprentice mage. I just have the advantage of these seven mini skeletons—it only looks like I'm strong."
The group nodded again, as if agreeing with his modesty.
Still, Arthur—more observant than most—wasn't entirely convinced. To him, Clayton clearly wasn't just any ordinary mage. But he chose not to press the issue.
Then came a sneer from Bravus.
"What's so great about those skeletons? They crumble after one attack! And you, Young Master Clayton, try paying attention next time. We don't need someone careless endangering the team. Without those skeletons, you'd be dead already!"
Clayton didn't respond. He knew he'd been careless. But he also didn't bother to explain himself. He simply stayed silent.
Bravus scoffed and walked off, satisfied.
Clayton narrowed his eyes, watching Bravus's back. His thoughts returned to something that had been bothering him earlier—the strange similarity between Bravus's actions and the person who had once lured a wild boar toward him using a branch.
Bravus's behavior was too suspicious. He had both motive and opportunity. Clayton's suspicion deepened.
Meanwhile, Equus also eyed Clayton carefully. His thoughts drifted back to Hank's mysterious disappearance.
Seeing how precise and well-coordinated Clayton's skeleton attacks were, Equus became more convinced—Clayton was the one behind Hank's vanishing.
And the more certain he became, the more anxious he felt. He didn't know what to do anymore.
On the surface, he and Clayton seemed fine. But who could say when Clayton might feel threatened and decide to "silence" someone?
The anxiety gnawed at him.
...
The hunt continued. Bravus kept showing off his "skills" and reaped praise for the team's bountiful harvests. He grew smug, taking every chance to belittle Clayton.
Clayton was disgusted but stayed quiet. In his mind, a reasonable person didn't need to bark back at a dog.
Arthur, the group's leader, noticed everything. He disliked Bravus's behavior too—but as long as it didn't cause serious problems, he chose to look the other way for the sake of team harmony.
Bravus, drunk on praise, basked in the flattery.
"Bravus, you're amazing! Thanks to you, we're getting such a great harvest!"
"Yeah! Once this patrol ends, we need to throw a party!"
They kept showering Bravus with compliments, and he ate it up.
Praise became an addiction. He couldn't get enough.
Unaware of the risk, Bravus continued spraying his signature perfume—which, unfortunately, attracted monsters.
Eventually, the group was overwhelmed by the surge of beasts.
In the middle of the chaos, Bravus—exhausted—accidentally spilled a large amount of perfume.
Arthur and the others froze. They knew this spelled trouble.
And sure enough...
Roar!!!
A deafening roar rang out, freezing everyone in place. Their eyes widened, and it felt like their souls left their bodies.
A ground bear emerged—massive, drowsy-eyed, and clearly disturbed from hibernation by the perfume's stench.
With bloodshot eyes and bared fangs, the bear flew into a rage.
The group scattered, scrambling for safety. Bravus, the root of the problem, hid among the others.
Arthur suppressed his emotions and took charge.
"Alright, follow my lead!" he shouted with authority.
The battle against the bear was long and exhausting—but in the end, they brought it down.
Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. As the others began resting, Arthur—equally tired—called out.
"Bravus, come here."
Bravus's face turned pale. He dragged his feet over to Arthur.
Once within arm's reach, Arthur let him have it.
"Bravus, haven't you learned your lesson?! This is the second time! If it happens again, don't blame me for what comes next!"
Bravus lowered his head, speechless.
Arthur sighed and shook his head.
"Alright, you're dismissed."
Bravus walked away, sluggish and dejected. Someone approached him to console him.
"Hey, don't let it get to you. Arthur's just full of himself. Without your perfume, he's nothing!"
Bravus didn't respond—but he didn't reject the comment either.
The bootlicker—Xylas—kept buttering him up while badmouthing Clayton and Arthur. Slowly, Bravus's mood improved under the constant flattery.
After a short break, the hunt resumed—this time, in a more disciplined manner. Bravus kept his behavior in check.
As the farmers gathered their spoils, a loud sound echoed in the distance.
Bang!
They immediately grew alert and turned toward the source.
Fifteen minutes passed without signs of movement. Not wanting to take unnecessary risks, they decided to retreat.
But just as they were about to leave, another loud noise erupted.
Arthur's group tensed again. Seconds ticked by in anxious silence.
And then finally...
The figure that emerged left them stunned.
"Brother Tiger?!"