And so it came to be that I stood facing my adversary in the dark passageways of Moon’s Reflection. My opponent was a skeleton, just like me. A pale pile of bones, held together by the bare minimum of life force required for it to move about. It was unable to use magic, did not possess a shred of spirit, and was hardly able to channel divinity of any sort. It was, in all senses of the word, a normal skeleton.
As I readied my sword, the opposing skeleton stared in my direction, as if affirming my presence.
Clack clack clack!
Its bones clashed together, releasing a dreadful sound. If I didn’t know any better, I would think it was laughing at me.
Skeletons—
I’d fought them many, many times in my career as an adventurer. But now, I found myself freshly revolted by their existence, perhaps due to my newfound perspective.
Once a living thing became a pile of bones, it would definitely never stand again. However, the skeleton before me could move in spite of that, as a continued defiance of the divine laws of life and death. The more I looked at it, the more I felt that its existence in and of itself was a mockery of nature.
It occurred to me that I was probably viewed the same way by other human beings. No matter how I spun it, it seemed impossible for me to return to Maalt as I currently was. Once again reminded of that fact, I couldn’t help but sigh. Although, I didn’t have any organs for breathing, let alone lungs. Having become nothing but bones, I suppose this much was obvious.
I felt a fresh wave of shock wash over me at this revelation—the fact that I was now something completely inhuman was driven deep into my mind. There was not much I could do about it, though. That was just how things were now.
Although I felt I had already digested the facts of my newfound state as a skeleton, it would seem that many other things about this development still bothered me. If anything, I felt more hesitant than ever.
Despite that, I had no choice but to press on. I had to defeat this other skeleton before me and evolve into a ghoul at all costs! With that in mind, I put my backbone into the task, making a running start towards the opposing skeleton—
At least, that was what I had wanted to do. The speed at which I was advancing toward the other skeleton was, for lack of a better word, painfully slow. I suppose one could define it as a sort of run; a jog, maybe. However, the speed at which I was moving left much to be desired—it did not seem like a pace suited for combat. At the very least, I was faster than an average member of Maalt’s townsfolk. But I was still decidedly slower than the common adventurer, even the lowest-ranked Iron adventurers.
It would seem that my physical abilities had also been adversely affected by my untimely death. It was obvious, perhaps, if one thought about it. A skeleton was nothing more than a walking pile of bones. As all living things needed muscles of some sort to move, it was a miracle that skeletons could move at all—and a given that they did not move particularly well.
As if to prove my point, the opposing skeleton’s speed was also achingly slow. Thinking back on it, all the skeletons I had met up to this point moved in a similar fashion. If anything, it could be said that their sluggishness made them the perfect prey for Bronze-class adventurers such as myself. It was possibly thanks to them that I had continued existing as an adventurer for this long. But even if skeletons were easy prey for Bronze-class adventurers, I was currently a skeleton, as well. It was surely not going to be an easy fight; this much I realized the moment I raised my sword.
Although it was obvious that my swordplay would be a lot slower than it was in life, it was not as if I had suddenly forgotten how to swing my weapon. At the very least, I firmly recalled the basics. It was with that knowledge that I came to a simple conclusion: the only quick attack I had in my repertoire at this point in time was a simple downward swing. Just to be sure, I decided to test my theory. The results, however, were extremely disheartening.
For one thing, it was difficult to lift my sword. This was most likely due to the changes in my musculature, or lack thereof. Even so, I was greeted with more difficulties as I tried my best to lift my weapon. The combined weight of the sword, along with the force required to reverse the direction it had been traveling in, was considerably straining.
If my observations rang true, this was all due to a lack of muscles. In other words, all the techniques and movements that I had learned up until now could not be employed in this situation.
Once again, it occurred to me that this was an obvious fact. After all, the techniques I had learned were used and taught by humans. There wouldn’t have been a single technique or attack that was designed for the physique of a skeleton in mind.
Even so, I strived to work out a solution. If I simply stopped here and now, I would surely be defeated by the other skeleton and die, again. Perhaps, then, it was quite the stroke of luck that my first opponent was a sluggish and simple skeleton.
As I was busy testing out potential sword attacks, the opponent had picked up speed and was rushing in my direction—until it promptly slipped. As a result of its unfortunate fall, my opponent’s right leg bone had apparently dislodged itself. The skeleton was now sitting on the ground in a somewhat awkward position, desperately attempting to retrieve and reattach its detached leg.