Chapter 61
After carefully making his way home, Clayton finally arrived without any trouble. He let out a sigh of relief.
Even though he could now defend himself against most threats—especially with his new trump card—he refused to let it go to his head. If anything, it made him more cautious. As the old saying goes: "No matter how well a squirrel jumps, it will eventually fall." The more violence and killing he got involved in, the more likely it was that one day, whether through carelessness or simple bad luck, he’d become someone else’s victim.
But that anxious thought was soon pushed aside by growing curiosity.
Excited, Clayton pulled a box from his spatial pouch and took out a thin stick that looked like dry spaghetti—the incense Arowmfa had promised him. He lit it right away. The stick released a soft plume of smoke and a faint, calming aroma.
He prepared to place it neatly into its holder—but before he could, a painfully familiar sensation shot through his body.
Clayton froze.
A wave of dread swept over him.
He knew this pain all too well—it was the unbearable sickness that had plagued him before. Reaching into his pouch, he pulled out a purification scroll.
At first, he feared he would once again be paralyzed, his mind overwhelmed by pain. But this time, something was different. Though his body still struggled to move, his thoughts remained clear. It was as if some unseen force was buffering the pain.
With what strength he had, he activated the purification scroll. Magic burst forth, suppressing the dark energy wreaking havoc inside him. The pain was still intense—but manageable.
After a long, grueling effort, the dark energy was pacified once again.