CHAPTER 37: CHAPTER 37

Clayton, seeing what was coming, bolted in desperation. With his mana depleted, he had no choice but to rely on sheer physical strength to escape.

The boar didn’t care—it kept charging after him with relentless aggression.

Just like before, the beast was faster than Clayton. It closed the distance in no time.

Panic flickered in Clayton’s eyes. Thankfully, one of his mini skeletons was already in position and intercepted the attack.

Puchi!

The skeleton shattered instantly, barely slowing the beast.

Clayton pushed his legs harder, desperate to widen the gap, but it was no use. The distance kept shrinking. The closer the beast got, the easier it would be for it to strike.

Clayton tried to dodge—but still got clipped.

Bang!

"Ah... that hurts," he groaned, voice trembling from the pain.

For a moment, it felt like his body had shattered. His limbs were limp, refusing to respond. He tried to get up, but nothing moved.

Panic surged through him as the boar charged forward at full speed.

Puchi! Puchi!

One by one, Clayton’s mini skeletons hurled themselves into the boar’s path, sacrificing themselves to slow it down.

Clayton felt a rush of emotion. Even if those skeletons could be revived later, who would willingly throw themselves into destruction over and over, if they could simply rest?

But now wasn’t the time for sentiment. The boar was still getting closer—despite their efforts.

Eventually, the last skeleton was destroyed. Nothing stood between the beast and him.

Clayton had no more shields. Worse, his body still refused to move.

He felt completely hopeless. He wanted to act—anything—but he couldn’t. Still, he forced himself to try, trembling with effort.

The sight of Clayton twitching pitifully on the ground looked like someone caught in violent seizures, barely clinging to life.

From a distance, Bravus watched and smiled in satisfaction. In his mind, this was it—Clayton was finished.

Clayton’s condition certainly looked beyond saving. That thought filled Bravus with glee. Still, he didn’t stop running. He didn’t dare look back, let alone slow down.

He was terrified that once the boar finished with Clayton, it would come after him again. If that happened, watching Clayton die wouldn’t be worth the risk.

Bravus picked up his pace.

Meanwhile, Clayton was in as bad a shape as he looked—but he kept fighting, willing his hand to move.

Anyone else would’ve given up. But not Clayton.

A tiny portion of his mana had recovered, and he began channeling it into his hand, hoping to stimulate movement.

At first, nothing happened. But slowly—there was a flicker of hope.

He kept pouring mana into his right hand. The problem was, his hand was pinned beneath his body, face-down on the ground.

Even after using every bit of energy he had, he couldn’t move a single finger—by the time the boar loomed directly above him.

Its furious red eyes locked onto his, which were also red—but from exhaustion and despair.

In that moment, time seemed to slow. Clayton could only watch as the tusks angled toward his face.

Then suddenly, a soft light bloomed from his chest—right beneath the trembling hand that had been gripping it all along.

Something had been triggered, thanks to the steady mana he kept forcing out.

The light flared.

A fireball, two meters wide, erupted straight at the boar.

Bang!

The beast’s once-raging face twisted in fear. Flames engulfed it completely.

The explosion was massive. A shockwave ripped outward, sending dirt and debris flying in every direction.

Bravus and the others instinctively turned toward the sound—but before they could get a clear look, the blast wave and rubble slammed into them, knocking many to the ground.

The force of the explosion lingered before finally fading.

Only then did the others realize—they had survived.

As the dust slowly cleared, the scene came into view: utter destruction and chaos.

The smell of scorched earth filled the air.

And when the dust finally settled, they saw the boar—once a terrifying force—lying motionless, its body charred and mangled.

People unconsciously exhaled in relief. The threat that had loomed so heavily was finally gone.

Bravus, who had also been knocked down by the blast, turned his gaze to Clayton.

His mood soured instantly when he saw him still alive. Clayton lay weakly beside the boar’s corpse, barely moving—but still breathing.

Frustration burned through Bravus. The earlier scenes replayed in his mind, and rage boiled in his chest.

Impulsive emotions surged. In his mind, this was the perfect chance to finish Clayton off while he was defenseless.

He started walking toward him.

Those watching didn’t know what Bravus intended—but the twisted look on his face sent chills down their spines.

Bravus was obsessed. He kept imagining how satisfying it would be to kill Clayton. How perfect life would be afterward.

He didn’t realize—his soul was beginning to twist.

But before he could reach Clayton, he heard a faint rustling from the side.

Normally, reckless Bravus would’ve ignored it. But something felt off this time. He turned cautiously toward the sound.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

Xylas—his nearly lifeless body—was moving.

Bravus froze.

Earlier, he had stabbed Xylas without hesitation. A wound to the heart should’ve been fatal.

He rushed over.

When he arrived, he examined the body—and was stunned to see the wound slowly closing. A few drops of green fluid dripped from Xylas’s mouth.

He realized: Xylas must have hidden a regeneration pill in his mouth.

The thought terrified Bravus. If Xylas recovered, he’d be a threat.

Without hesitation, Bravus attacked.

Half-conscious, Xylas caught a glimpse of Bravus in his final moments. He was bitter—furious—but powerless. His consciousness faded... then vanished.

Once Bravus confirmed Xylas was truly dead, he didn’t immediately leave. He kept checking the body again and again, making absolutely sure that life had left it.

Even if Xylas had ten, a hundred, a thousand pills—they wouldn’t matter now.

Bravus finally let out a breath of relief and turned away.

Those watching from afar were horrified. They could only pray Bravus wouldn’t turn on them next.

But it didn’t take long to realize—he was heading straight for Clayton.

They knew what was coming. The grudge between the two ran deep. In this brutal world of sword and magic, killing wasn’t rare.

Step by step, Bravus closed in on Clayton’s motionless body.

"Clayton... say your last words!"

Half-conscious from exhaustion and blood loss, Clayton could only stare blankly at Bravus. He couldn’t even form a coherent thought.

Bravus didn’t care. He raised his hand—and began chanting a spell.