30. Loot

Well, he might have overdone it.

Adolin nodded as he wiped his forehead. He was already sweating from the heat wave coming off Clay’s skill. It did look cool, and it was effective. Now his state wasn’t ideal, but at least he pulled off a cool last stand. Adolin could respect that.

Clay lay unconscious where he had cast it—Final Ember, as Adolin had heard him call it.

What lay in front of him was… interesting.

The creatures were cooked. Literally. And the stone along the path of the arc had melted.

It was a high-tier skill. He still wasn’t sure what tier it would fall under. One thing was certain, Luc would love to train him. And make sure he could use it at full power without passing out.

“Flaming Sword,” he muttered.

It made sense. That was what Lord Ashvale had called him. It was probably a family-related skill. He would have to find out.

Looking at Clay’s unconscious body, he started whistling. He had made it easier for him. He wouldn’t have to escape or use a spell to put him to sleep. He wouldn’t have to feel guilty for it.

He chuckled and stepped closer to Clay, careful to avoid the melted rock that had the color and consistency of magma.

The spark was still there, but it was dimming. He crouched next to him and touched his forehead. Life. He cast, flooding his body with life force. That would keep him alive and help him fight the poison until Adolin was done collecting reward chests. Then he would heal him and act as if nothing had happened. Yes. That sounded right.

What if he questioned what he was doing during the fight?

He had to get rid of any suspicion on his part. Clay would question him when he woke up. He was certain of that. It would be bad to tell him the truth. That could wait until he got everything the dungeon had to offer. The reward chest.

Now, where was he supposed to find it?

He should have gotten more information about that. There was one way he could do it. Explore.

His lips curled upward.

That wasn’t a bad idea; it might even be interesting. He started walking around the cave.

Clay.

What if not all of the big cats were dead? He broke into a run, sprinting toward Clay. This could be bad. How could he have forgotten such a basic rule? You never leave your wounded members alone without any protection on the battlefield. Was this world making him too soft? Probably. But he did like it. The Demon Continent had made him too hardened. He had to keep it balanced so he didn’t get himself or others killed.

It took him five minutes to return at a full sprint. Clay was still in the same spot where he had left him. The bleeding had stopped, and his life force had stabilized. The life force he had given him was slowly helping him heal his wounds and fight the poison. He exhaled. The mistake hadn’t cost him anything, but he could never allow himself to repeat it.

He needed to make sure he would stay safe. There were a few options he thought of, and had enough mana for. Earth Trap, a spell that would create earthen spikes that would trigger if something came close to him. Air Barrier would create a barrier around him, but the problem was that if he ran low on mana, it would break. And if enough enemies, or powerful ones, attacked him, it would break before he could get there.

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There were a few others, but all of them had the same problem. Well, he could always carry him with him. And there was no risk if he did. Now for the spell. He had already used Levitate a few times, so another one. Ice Sled, that would work. The spell was one of the few convenient ones he had. He had learned the spell to carry wounded soldiers on the battlefield. Then his equipment at the Demon Continent.

He cast Ice Sled.

Next to him, a sled made of ice formed. He reduced the mana usage so it was just big enough to carry him and not get stuck in tunnels. Now he had to put him on it. He should have formed the sled beneath him. How did he mess that up?

He cursed inwardly and used Levitate to place Clay onto the sled.