Survivor

The past few hours were undoubtedly the craziest of Clinton’s life, well, 2 lives if he was being totally objective.

Not even the realization that he was now a skeleton when he first appeared in this world was as crazy as the past few hours of his life.

In the past few hours, he experienced crazy things, and also did crazy things.

They really do say desperation births invention.

Wanting to progress from the 1st level of the dungeon of Azarick, after preparation for a long time, at level 5 already, the limit of the 1st level of the dungeon, he finally decided to return back to that corridor where he appeared on first coming to this world.

Luckily for him, there were no Holy Knights this time when he entered.

He got what he wanted, bones, resources that he needed to flex his new skill and profession as a craftsman, crafting much more powerful weapons that would help him safeguard his life in this hell where he found himself.

He found the bone of Magedon, the Doom Knight which was apparently a mythical tool, he found much more useful bones, and then most crazily he found a supposed god relic, the tail bone of the Winter Dragon, Syrax the Dread.

In his previous life, Clinton was a frivolous playboy and high school athlete and celebrity, he never knew he had the talent to be a craftsman.

This was until he was forced to fight for his life.

With his hand forced, pushed by desperation, invention was born, enabling his craftsmanship talent to blossom.

By getting access to all those amazing bones, Clinton finally got what he needed to craft even more powerful weapons and make himself stronger, strong enough to take on the gate guardian.

But who would have expected that at that moment was when the majestic gate would open, and armor-clad warriors would appear?

Humans! Actual humans.

After dying once, Clinton never expected to see humans again. Even if he did eventually, he never expected it to be this fast.

“…!”

Meeting humans again, he was ecstatic.

‘Finally, my kin!’ He thought, excited only to be heartbroken, getting the harshest of reality checks to ingrain in him that he was no longer human.

Clinton felt a part of him crack and fragment when those humans attacked him. It was not even the attack that dealt the most damage to him, it was the loathsome and hateful look that the humans looked at him.

‘Are we…, not kin?’

A question that died in his throat because he started fighting for his life.

He lost all the amazing collection of bones that he managed to get, running for his life but that was not enough.

The humans actually got reinforcements and followed him below into the decaying forest. They wanted to kill him!

Or capture him, maybe.

And so, once again, Clinton was back to square 1, fighting for his life because he simply wasn’t strong enough to face the humans in combat.

He had a lot of questions, who are these people?

Are they truly human?

Where did they come from?

How come they can survive here?

He had so many questions but never got the luxury of getting answers, why? Simply because he was a skeleton, a loathsome existence that the humans wanted to kill by any means available.

And so, Clinton ran, away from humans.

The irony.

Desperation births invention.

Pushed to the wall by existences he once saw as kin, humans, he was pushed to the brink, evolving his craftsmanship skill under pressure.

And then he did it, crafting the bones of Magedon, the Bone Knight into a terrifyingly powerful mythical weapon, Magedon, the Light Slayer.

Even with the bones, he was still not strong enough to take on the humans and so Clinton decided to take on the gate guardian, Arto.

All these experiences, if those were not the craziest hours of his life, Clinton didn’t know what else was.

And now, finally, he killed Arto, the gate guardian.

The Ancient Gate groaned.

Then slowly, it began to open.

Beyond it lay the 2nd floor of the dungeon of Azarick.

Against all odds, he had survived to see it.

Looking beyond the gate, Clinton saw green and purple grass, making him heave a sigh of relief. ‘The 2nd floor is not as desolate as the Decaying forest, at least’.

He smiled which in his skeleton face only looked creepy. ‘I’m glad’.

But at that moment, he heard sounds.

Gasp!

“He survived!”

“I can’t believe it, he actually killed the Gate Guardian, how?!”

‘This skeleton…!’ Seraphim, the leader of this human extraction team looked at the skeleton with shocked eyes. ‘What exactly are you?!’ She thought.

With Arto, the Gate Guardian defeated, the force field isolating them to battle was finally gone, exposing Clinton.

Staring at them, Clinton had a complicated look in his red dots for eyes.

The red dots in his eye sockets briefly glowed intensely.

“Whatever it takes, I will survive, and learn the secret of this dungeon,” the red dots gleamed. “And I will return home”.

He stared at the humans some more, and then he moved.

BZZZ!

Clinton disappeared from the 1st floor of the dungeon of Azarick, as immediately the giant mystical gate slammed shut behind him.

After hundreds of years, another existence finally managed to defeat the gate guardian and progress from the 1st floor to the 2nd.

This was a significant event.

Seraphim’s eyes narrowed. ‘I need to report to the elders’.

As they watched, the mystical gate closed and immediately, an ancient arcane power swirled in the location where the intense battle against the gate guardian just took place, converging on the remains of Arto, the Gate Guardian.

As the humans watched, the remains of the gate guardian moved under the influence of the ancient arcane power, coming back together.

Within a minute, Arto, the Gate Guardian was restored back whole.

And once again, he stood before the giant mystical gate, solemnly guarding it with single-minded determination like it was not just defeated a moment ago.

“Should we go after it?” One of the human warriors asked.

“No,” Seraphim shook her head. “Let’s return”.

“Let’s bring back news of the abnormal skeleton monster”.