I found myself at a complete loss. My first thought—What should I be doing?
For starters, it would be fair to say that I had definitely been eaten by the dragon. I supposed I should be greatful, even if I were alive in a somewhat non-human form.
Well, no. I could not be sure of that... Was I even alive in the first place? Skeletons were a type of undead monster, creatures that have already died once. As such, it would be easy for bishops and priests of the church to exorcise them with simple cleansing magic. If anything, they were exceptionally weak monsters.
The explanation behind skeletons being cleansed was simple. Being a sack of walking bones, they were creatures brought forth against the divine logic of the gods. Other explanations included the more simple “they are dead, and as such cannot exist on this world.” Succinct, but true. This continued defiance of the divine rules of life and death was apparently the prime reason for their weakness to said magic.
Personally, I had no idea if any of this held water. In the first place, I wasn’t a bishop or priest. However, the general argument for it seemed sound, and for myself at this point in time, it was a critically important piece of information. Plainly put, if I were to expand upon that logic, I was definitely very, very dead. More accurately, I was existing in the world as a dead pile of bones. This was a very bad thing indeed.
As I mentioned before, the fact that a dead being continued to exist apparently flaunted some severe laws of the divine nature. If I were to simply saunter back into town and enter a tavern as if nothing had happened, it would not end well. No matter how much I would claim that I was Rentt Faina, some no-good priest who spent all his time in the tavern from morning to night would chance upon me and then promptly get rid of me with his stave. If this were to come to pass, my existence would simply be erased. This was something I definitely wanted to avoid.
Such were the bones of the situation. On the bright side, I was still alive. Even if I were to exist as a skeleton and defy the laws of life and death, as far as I was concerned, my consciousness was intact; I was still very much alive. This was precisely why I could not simply skip back to town and carelessly get myself killed.
Well, then, what should I do? That was the burning question.
This was the Water Moon Dungeon; adventurers would certainly make their way to the dungeon as they always had, merrily killing what monsters they found along the way. Even for a relatively beginner-oriented dungeon populated by weaker monsters, adventurers stronger than myself often made their way here. If I appeared before such individuals, I would certainly be killed—for good this time.
Whatever, then, should I do...?
As I continued to think, a few strings of thought connected in my mind. It was perhaps safe to assume that I was now a monster of some sort. There’s a certain mysterious aspect to monsters: older and more experienced monsters tended to evolve into more powerful versions of themselves. This phenomenon was commonly referred to as “Existential Evolution.” Although I was not absolutely sure if I was a monster to begin with, I seemed to be some sort of walking skeleton at a glance. If that really were the case, then wouldn’t this concept apply to me, as well?
—The whole “Existential Evolution” thing, I mean. After all, having knowledge of monsters was sort of an occupational requirement for adventurers. If memory served, skeletons could apparently evolve into flesh-eating ghouls—at least, that’s what I remembered reading in a book about monsters some time ago.
Although ghouls were also a type of undead monster, and hence also went against the divine laws governing life and death, they at the very least had a more humanoid appearance than a skeleton did. Rotted and dried out though it may be, a ghoul even had flesh. With a robe and mask, I could perhaps pass for a human—those were my thoughts on the matter.
If I did this, I would be able to sneak into town rather uneventfully, and I would finally get the chance to explain the nature of this situation to my friends and compatriots. I was, of course, very much aware of the absurd nature of my plan. If anything, it was not very well thought-out. However, this was all I had to work with at this point.
I made a decision—
I would aim to somehow trigger this Existential Evolution. I, Rentt Faina, would evolve into a ghoul in the Water Moon Dungeon.