There's a problem.
1140 Words
Having dealt with the monster, Nick and his companion did not linger any longer. They needed to fetch a black cloth to wrap the decapitated creature and bid farewell to Lockent.
Before departing, Lockent discreetly pulled Claune aside and slipped him a small pouch.
Weighing the bag and hearing the sound of wealth within, Claune nodded with satisfaction, marveling at his companion’s grand vision.
Struggling, Claune hoisted the monster onto his horse’s back, and after Lockent’s repeated insistence, he waved goodbye.
As they approached the quarry, the priest halted their horses.
"Is something amiss?"
Claune rushed forward, tightening the reins as he caught up to the spirited horses.
Nick turned his head and extended his hand, "Show it to me!"
"What should I show?" Claune asked, somewhat puzzled.
"Don’t play dumb. I saw Lockent give you a purse. You merely provided information and did not lift a finger; it was all my effort that vanquished the evil spirit. Don’t you feel it's too much for you to keep all that money? You can keep two portions for yourself."
"Father, that’s rather unfair," Claune protested, his voice rising. "Lockent will surely donate a far greater sum to the church."
"Everything I earned is rightfully mine; if you won’t give it, I’ll take it myself."
With a grimace, Claune resignedly tossed the purse to Nick.
The priest tossed the pouch lightly in his hands, opened it, and counted, "Fifty silver coins—ten for you."
After speaking, Nick returned some coins to the pouch and tossed it back, pointing at his horse's back. "This distribution is a matter of principle. That mutated monster is worth a considerable sum; I will similarly give you two portions, so just be grateful."
At this, Claune's resentment diminished considerably.
He had just been contemplating how to manage a miserly superior.
The two resumed their journey, galloping back to the church swiftly.
Upon returning the horses, Claune was about to take his leave when the priest called him back, "You will handle the spoils; I will instruct you."
"Good! So you believe I can become a soldier of the Holy Order?!" Claune beamed with enthusiasm.
"Not quite; I simply prefer not to get my hands dirty. If you lack sufficient funds to support your endeavors, I advise against hastily attempting to become a warrior of our Lord. Once you start, there's no turning back. Without adequate nutrition and medicinal support, you might find yourself plummeting into the abyss."
Earning money was a minor issue.
Claune felt no anxiety; problems that could be resolved with money were no problems at all.
His proficiency in herbalism was steadily improving, and the success rate of his potion-making had reached an astonishing 80%. With ample materials, he was akin to a human alchemical machine.
He planned to negotiate a partnership with the traveling merchant on his next visit to the town.
If the negotiations fell through, he would set out for Rhine City.
Subconsciously, he wanted to remain in Zack Town, waiting until his skills reached a point of saturation before venturing into the outside world.
Claune followed the priest into the basement, recognizing it as the path he took during his so-called sacred baptism.
Torches lit the stone walls at intervals, casting flickering shadows of the two men.
Instead of pushing open the door to the ceremonial room, Nick entered an adjacent chamber.
He lit the oil lamps, indicating a large iron table in the center and instructing Claune, "Place the monster on that."
The flames of the oil lamps burned a bright milky white, and as the priest ignited several more lamps, the room illuminated as if it were daytime.
Claune gently laid the monster on the table and quickly surveyed his surroundings.
The space resembled a large warehouse, lined with shelves against the walls, but only a small portion housed various jars and containers.
Each vessel bore small white labels, and just as he leaned in for a closer inspection, the priest set a large wooden box onto the table.
"This contains dissection tools."
Claune opened the toolbox to reveal a gleaming array of instruments.
A plethora of knives, hammers, tweezers, saws, chisels, scissors, and pliers were displayed, resembling a hybrid of a carpenter's and a surgeon's toolkit.
One might easily mistake it for a toolbox intended for woodworking and anatomy alike.
"The muscle of the monster is extraordinarily resilient; small-caliber bullets cannot penetrate it. However, before tools forged from Valyrian steel, it is merely as tough as cowhide," Nick explained.
Picking up a scalpel of hand length, Claune was taken aback.
How could this elegantly designed silver knife accomplish anything against muscles impervious to bullets?
Sensing the young man's skepticism, Nick continued, "Take the knife and give it a try."
Gripping the scalpel like a pen, Claune pressed it firmly against the monster's abdomen.
After a slight resistance, the blade sank entirely within.
"This monster, born of an evil spirit, isn't particularly valuable; only the heart, teeth, and hide hold worth. Try to remove these components."
...
Two hours later, Claune returned to his quarters from the church.
As the priest had remarked, the workload wasn't excessive, yet he felt utterly drained.
Despite the sharpness of the tools, his arms ached unbearably.
Back home, Claune commenced his practice of the Golden Light Incantation.
The inability of bullets to inflict lethal harm on the monster had significantly dampened his enthusiasm for shooting.
He resolved to only practice shooting during his transactions at the livestock farm, dedicating the afternoons to refining his incantation.
Upon returning yesterday, he had refilled the grain bin and started curing meat, preparing to make dried sausage.
Now, he needed to focus on continuously visualizing the Golden Light Incantation by day and diligently working on herbalism by night.
Late into the night, Claune lay down, satisfied with his efforts.
After a night's practice, his herbalism was on the brink of advancing to the third tier!
As he drifted into slumber, his body seemed to levitate silently, as if lifted by some unseen force.
Moments later, he returned to rest on the bed.
...
The next morning, Claune leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.
Golden walls appeared before his eyes.
He glanced at the progress of his Golden Light Incantation.
[Golden Light Incantation: 2607/10000; Zero Tier] (Your energy is increasing; you can afford to reduce your sleep time; keep at it!)
There's a problem!
He muttered to himself.
Last night, everything felt fine, but waking up now brought a sensation of being completely drained.
Could it be from practicing too much?
Previously, he only practiced the Golden Light Incantation for a morning; yesterday, he had practiced for about two extra hours.
Unable to comprehend the exact cause, Claune decided to spend the day practicing the incantation to see if the same feeling persisted the next morning.
- Writer
