Mat carefully walked through the stairs of the tower, looking in, and about every bit, trying to sense all that he could with his weakened senses. When he reached the lower floor, there was another chamber there, but what remained of its door was nothing but ash. It had a wooden door, or it used to be, at least, from what he could gleam from the door's frame.
He carefully entered the room through the rubble, and willed for the flame to appear on his hand again. Although he could make it float along, he figured out it took more concentration to do so, so he chose to hold it himself when convenient.
The room was similarly scorched on all sides, and covered in soot, except the one far corner where an iron grill protected what seemed to be another ritualistic altar, this one better preserved than the one on the floor above.
"Aaargh!"
He tried walking forward towards the altar but he stumbled after taking a step as a sharp pain assaulted his head and he cried in agony.
'hornoses flamevaeum'
'hornoses flamevaeum'
'hornoses flamevaeum'
Unintelligible words rang in his head as the sudden headache slowly began to subside. He opened his eyes to see ghastly apparitions floating around him in the room. He stumbled back on his feet, struggling to contain his numbed but overpowering emotions.
He slowly breathed out and in as he tried calming himself. 'I am an undead, I am one of them.' he tried to assure himself.
The ghosts slowly faded away, barely visible, but he saw one of them kneeling to him before it was gone.
It was shocking, but intriguing, to live such a sight.
"What was that sound in my ear though." he asked no one in particular and walked towards that altar again. Crossing the iron fence, he saw on the altar a little tablet, inscribed on it were words in the same manuscript that he had discovered on the large key.
*"The rite of passage has come, a great sacrifice it is, but we must do it for the sake of piece and prosperity of this house.
Immolflaevum phoenyxys"*
"Immolflaevum phoenyxys.. what did that mean?" he wondered, as he looked to find something more, something that may tell him anything else beyond some unintelligible words.
Walking out of that chamber, he went to the stairs again, and carefully walked down, finally reaching the solid ground.
'First of the Graveborn.' he thought of the title his status showed him. If he was the first, were there more? Were there going to be more? Would they be his friends on the accounts of them being the same?
With such thoughts, he traversed into what he discovered to be the bottom most chamber of the tower, and it had no door at all, it was a plain entryway made of grey stone, heavy and thick.
Something felt weird about this place, something odd, unlike the top two floors, he felt uncomfortable in his non existent skin.. 'Maybe it is paranoia, but it's better to be safe than sorry.' he told himself.
['Skills']
He shouted in his mind, hoping for a similar light as before, but keeping his expectations low. He knew when to not have expectations, it really did make you feel less disappointed.. but something flashed either way, whether he expected it or not, and he saw almost nothing.
+++
[Passive Skills]
Undead Mana: Ability to use undead mana.
[Active Skill]
Mana Torch: Ability to use mana to generate a source of light.
+++
"I see, so that works."
Maybe he should have tried this earlier, then he could have compared the things it would have displayed. Although he doubts he could have generated a 'passive' skill like Undead Mana on his own, the Mana Torch could either be something he knew by default—god only knows the explanation to why—or something he acquired by simply experimenting. If it was the latter, it meant he had more experimenting to do.
He tried to find something of note in the room, anything that could have helped, but all he could see was a little rusting sword lying on the ground.
He bent down to pick it up, though there was not much bending down on the account of him being a literal short, little bone frame. As he freed his hands to pick it up, the light slowly floated from his palm to the top of his head, keeping the room lit.
The sword lifted from the floor with a great deal of effort, a lot more than he ever expected. 'Damn, this is heavey..' he thought…
… or it could just be that he was too weak, his stats didn't seem very flattering in the first place.
["Status"]
"Amazingly strong you are, to be so self obsessed." he whispered, secretly berating himself at this sort of self masturbation.
+++
Mordain Noxleigh
[First of the Graveborn]
Age: 10 (154)
Level 0 Undead [Mage]
VIT: 0
STR: 4.1 → 4.0
AGI: 7
INT: 8
MAG: 6 → 7
+++
"Wow, even as level zero, I am now a little stronger." he said to himself as he looked at his magic growth, which he accounted to simply using the flame and getting more efficient at channelling mana through his bones. 'I wonder if this mana is generated in the bone marrow.. considering I don't have any organs.' he mused.
Looking at this strength though.. 'I see, so the numbers are rounded off to a whole number… and picking up that sword increased my strength.. this has to be some sort of joke! How weak am I really? And why is my Vitality non existent, because I'm an undead? Wouldn't that be racial discrimination?' he blanched at the thought of gods, or whatever that governed this world, being racist to poor undeads.
He would bet a 10 year old could lift that small sword with little difficulty which he now carried in both his hands with insurmountable amounts of effort. He was too weak.
'Can't blame me though, can you now? I didn't choose to be transmigrated without muscles.. gotta live with what you get I guess.'
He placated himself, and walked out of the tower's area onto the path which he predicted lead to the courtyard outside. It was a something like a gravel path, but a few hard kicks of his feet told him it used to be a stone paved path which got covered in a layer of dirt and gravel, possible due to storms.
It was a weird sensation to get used to, feeling numbness all over his body, and not being able to feel much pain.
Moving ahead, he met the end of the path, and it got him to a gated wall which lead out of the vicinity of that high tower. Now that he looked back at it, it was the highest tower of this.. castle. He wouldn't call it a fortress, it didn't look as defensible.
Turning back, he looked at the broken gate again that lead him out of this area. It was indeed.. broken, fell inclined on the ground on top of some stones at an angle. Where the stones might have come from? He had no idea. But the good thing was that it was touching the ground on his side, while the side above ground was out there, in the world.
'Freedom is around the corner.. or not.' he guessed, trying to think of what could be outside.
He carefully walked up the length of that 12 feet long door, and crossed under the arch of the stone gate. Reaching the end, he looked down at the ground. He was about 3/4rth of this height above the ground, somewhere around 3 feet.
'I wonder how shock absorption will work here without any soft tissue..'
Putting his faith somewhere, he didn't even know where,but he just jumped down. The shock rattled his bones and his mind reeled for a moment.. then a hot rush of what now guessed to be mana flowed through body, and it all warmed up. It only took a moment, after which he stood up and felt perfectly fine. This will take some getting used to.
Walking further along the way, he heard a few clicks and clacks somewhere farther along. He stopped for a moment to regain his bearings and mentally prepare himself to see what it might be. Walked along the path, he reached a left turn beyond which was another stone wall. He peaked along the turn, and saw the path go straight ahead for about 50 meters, and the path walked a larger frame of bone.. larger than him at least.
It walked back and forth taking about 15 steps in one direction, then turning around and taking 15 in the other direction. It looked like a classic case of starter mob, though he doubted the undead mobs would be hostile to him. He still clutched the rusted sword in him arms, and carefully took the turn and walked towards the limping skeleton of the undead.
He kept his distance as he slowly approached its general direction. When it turned around, it didn't see him for a moment.. 'Is it blind?' he thought.
"Oi mate, do you the way outta here?"
He mildly shouted at the undead, taking a 'calculated' risk. Now the undead focused on him. It scanned his body, looking him up and down, and it looked unbothered.. until it looked at his head.
It straightened it's pose and was alerted. It screeched and suddenly ran towards him at full throttle.
Mat was stuck frozen for a moment before he turned around and ran back. That thing was too big, it was solid two feet taller than him, and all he had in his hand was this rusty sword he could barely keep hold of.
"Aaaaaaah! What the fuck am I doing!!! Why the fuck would you think that was a good idea!?" he almost screamed while running back to the way he come. He reached the turn again, and looked back the see the undead closing in on him.
He accelerated even more and put all his efforts into running, but with that sword in his hand? He couldn't. It had been dead weight so far.
It was when he reached that gate which he had crossed that he had the horrific realisation.. he couldn't go back into the tower. The fallen gate and the stones blocked the way, and how he wished he could climb; he would do anything to have muscles, just so he could climb again.
There was no way out, it seemed. 'Indeed, I must fight now.' he turned around to look at the undead, who was now slowly strolling towards him, as if it knew he had no way out.
Mat squared up what was of his shoulders, and raised the sword up at the undead with great effort.
'If it's going to be a fight, then a fight it is going to be.' it didn't make such sense, but the words did feel encouraging.
That wisp of flame he was carrying on his head was long extinguished when he picked up the sword and walked out of the chamber. It was too tiring to concentrate on both the things, he was somehow unable to do so.
He stared at the undead in front of him, who now seemed to be just ten feet away from him. It didn't approach him, choosing to circle him instead, so he followed suit. He stared intently at it, and had an idea.
["Status"]
He whispered while focusing his intent at the undead, hoping it would work.
A bright screen flashed in front of him, and thankfully, it did allow him to see through in case the undead suddenly attacked.
+++
Undead [Level 3]
VIT: 0
STR: 10
AGI: 9
INT: 4
MAG: 0
+++
It wasn't that much stronger than him, except the 3 extra points in strength, and 2 in agility.
Maybe he could actually win this fight. He wished he could.