Chapter 101
Clayton stared intently at the object, half-convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him. But after a few moments of careful observation, he was certain—what he saw was exactly what he thought it was.
Without wasting time, he rushed over for a closer look.
"How is it possible for blood sorghum to grow so well in a place like this?" he muttered, baffled.
Yes, right in front of him was blood sorghum—or at least, what was left of it. The plant had been reduced to a bare stalk, its upper parts destroyed, likely eaten by a wild boar.
Curious, Clayton began inspecting the surrounding area. He soon discovered several more sorghum plants—some still intact, others damaged, either by boars or unknown causes.
Seeing this, Clayton couldn’t help but think deeply. As far as he knew, he was the only one who had ever cultivated blood sorghum. So how could it be growing here? And more importantly, how was it surviving in a place with almost no ambient magical energy?
Even though the plants were clearly poor in quality, Clayton—thanks to his knowledge—could tell they were still alive. What they lacked was their primary nutrient: blood. If they’d been fed blood regularly from the start, their condition would likely be similar to the original sorghum he had once cultivated.
The more he thought about it, the more intrigued he became. He continued to explore, running through different possibilities in his mind while ordering his skeletons to fan out and secure the area.
Eventually, he found the answer.
This spot wasn’t far from where wild boars had destroyed his sorghum pots long ago. At that time, Clayton had only managed to retrieve a portion of the original plants. The remaining seeds must have been scattered—carried off by animals or insects—and ended up here.
He saw the signs everywhere: ant tunnels near the plants, bits of bird nests, squirrel tracks, and traces of other small creatures.