The Skeleton Soldier Failed to Defend the Dungeon-Chapter 260: You Are Like Sand (1)

I was caught off guard. Who'd expect I'd unlock a magic-related class? Until now, I'd considered myself as someone who walked the path of the sword. Even if I were to find Lurium in the imperial archive and change class, I expected it to be something like a knight.

Looking back, it was probably thanks to absorbing that tremendous mage skill. I decided to calmly examine the Lich class's advantages for the time being.

[Lich (Rare)]

[To him, death is a cloak and a sash he is always wrapped in. His feet rush to wickedness, his hands scheme, and his mouth mocks justice.

— A Lich is what becomes of a powerful mage when they scrub away their humanity like moss, seeking only power. To become a Lich requires at least a thousand sacrifices. It's old-school, but if you sought frost magic, the Lich is an excellent choice.

— Race, skill stats, and wisdom have met the required thresholds. Class unlocked.]

Below that, a long list of class perks appeared.

[Perks: Automatically obtained upon class change]

[1. Corruption: Designate a target with a good alignment. If their alignment shifts toward evil, a Corruption check will occur. If successful, the target becomes wholly subservient to you.

2. Drain: Forcibly drain the target's life force with a touch. Targets with low resistance to frost may become paralyzed.

3. Pain: You can't feel pain. The more intense the pain your sacrifices feel, the more your Wisdom stat temporarily increases.

4. Rupture: Summon a bone to pierce upward from the ground. If it lands a perfect impale, your next spell's critical hit chance increases temporarily.

5. Chill: Your very presence chills the air. Generate a frost aura around you, causing frozen enemies to take additional damage from your attacks.]

[Penalty: Active while maintaining this class]

[You must sacrifice one virtuous human per day. Failure to do so will result in a permanent decrease in health.]

Once again, I found the system laughable. Wasn't Lich a class where a mage forsook their humanity? Yet, the description was excessively human-centric, almost disturbingly so. Who was this message even for?

Still, at a glance, Lich was clearly a powerful class. The epitome of evil as defined by humans. A heretical path meant to be purged. It was as if someone had compiled all those fantastical fears into one package.

I couldn't deny that its power and authority were alluring. The Rare label also caught my eye. Compared to a swordsman, a knight, or a hunter, it suggested hidden power and growth potential far beyond the norm.

However, killing one human a day was no simple requirement. Even so, it was worth considering. I didn't hesitate.

"Change class."

Ding!

[Insufficient Lurium.]

There it was again. Come to think of it, it made sense. Just like before, it simply notified me that the Lich class was unlocked. I couldn't change class with the liquid I'd stolen from the crow doll.

"..."

Trying to ease the disappointment, I carefully picked up two magic staffs. Over twenty lay scattered across the battlefield, but I had neither the time nor means to gather them. Besides, the tower masters' staffs likely held the most value. I didn't have any appraising skills, so I couldn't be sure, but...

[Stem of Decay]

That name was etched on the side of the staff. Roughly 140 centimeters long, it was crooked and twisted, much like its previous owner's hunched posture. Rather than designed, it seemed to be made from tangled roots, retaining its natural shape. Several rings of unknown material were embedded along its length.

Sssng.

A light swing sent a sinister sound through the air. Wondering if it contained some kind of poison-release mechanism, I inspected it inside and out. However, I couldn't find a way to open or activate it.

The next staff was far longer, about 160 centimeters. The tower master had strapped it at their waist like a sword. Had it been on the ground, it would've dragged awkwardly. It helped that the owner had hovered 50 meters in the air. And this one was...

[Moonlight Benediction]

Its form was straight and simple. The large ring above the leather grip gave it a rapier-like aesthetic. Even without using Detection, I could sense the special metal embedded within the wood.

Srrng.

A slim blade slid out—the one the Tower Master of Lightning never had the chance to draw. A triangular gem beneath the blade's base formed an elegant pattern. Even without external lighting, the silver blade glimmered faintly. Ancient letters were engraved on the hilt.

Thanks to the Lv. 3 Ancient Language skill I'd absorbed from Naneow, I could read it, albeit clumsily.

"Lind...bru...m?"

A completely unexpected word, in a completely unexpected place. Long ago, I'd heard that word from someone I'd nearly forgotten. The dying Gith-Za-Rai. Isaac later explained that it was the name of the most powerful dragon race.

A species that was supposedly long extinct. Was this staff once stored in a dragon's dwelling? Or did the Tower Master of Lightning, Hwain al Ghoul, had a personal fascination with dragons? Regardless, it was more than worth keeping.

After strapping both staffs to my back, I turned to the shattered crow. Drying under the sunlight like a splash of ink on stone, its pitch-black remains were darker than the surrounding shadows. For a moment, I even imagined the scent of darkness thickening in the air.

That crow, which had cursed, foretold in smug riddles, and deceived me from the start, was now just garbage. No rare materials, power, or anything special, just damaged goods left to rot. I stared at its crumbling wing for a while, then looked up at the empty sky.

I could still change classes. Three choices I had once postponed now hovered faintly before me, glowing as if urging me to choose. Swordsman. Knight. Hunter. I could always delay the decision, absorb more Lurium, then pursue a class like Lich or something else.

However, I'd already been here once. The imperial capital was a demonic realm in its own right. Since I had no idea what dangers were lurking within, this wasn't the time to be complacent. Before entering, I had to be as prepared as possible.

I made my decision and reached out to the translucent message floating in the air.

Ting!

[Class change initiated.]

[Chosen class: Skeleton Knight]

The choice had been simple. I didn't use ranged weapons, which eliminated the Hunter. Realistically speaking, it was between Swordsman and Knight. Since becoming stronger wasn't about finding enlightenment or gaining clarity, I also didn't need perks like Meditation or Enlightenment. I needed brute power, hence my choice.

Crack!

Craaaack! Crunch!

All of my bones shattered, twisted, and reassembled. My spine, rib cage, limbs, even my skull, were completely restructured, reforged from the ground up.

Craaaaack! Snap!

If I had nerves, I would have passed out hundreds of times over. Yet, I felt nothing but a refreshing lightness. The sound of grinding bones echoed through the air for a while. As it faded, gray dust and aged bone fragments drifted to the ground like ash.

Ting!

[You have changed class to Skeleton Knight.]

[Second-tier class attained.]

[Stat gains per level have increased to +2.]

[Your skeletal structure has been properly aligned. All stats increased by 10%.]

[Skill acquired: Designated Protection]

[Perk acquired: Armament]

[Perk acquired: Mobility]

[Perk acquired: Combat Expert]

"This is..."

A ten percent boost to all stats. Stronger than any level-up I'd ever experienced. Class advancement was more rewarding than I'd imagined. In fact, why didn't I do this sooner? I didn't regret it in the slightest. Compared to before, I felt unimaginably light. Optimized—that was the only way to describe it.

"This is it."

My chest tightened with a strange sense of accomplishment. Technically, the class had been offered to me, yet the feeling was undeniable. A moment of overwhelming stat growth. It felt like I'd been reborn, and it was only the start.

[Skill acquired: Summon Skeletal Steed]

[Calculating based on current attributes...]

[Capable of summoning mounts up to Hero-grade.]

[Excluding Mythical and Fabled mounts imbued with divine essence, all others can be forcibly reanimated to serve you.]

Fabled or Mythical mounts? I'd never even heard of such things. The strongest horse I'd seen so far was probably the arrogant black stallion owned by Marquis Leandro.

In any case, I had no time to be picky. I had to make do with what was available. I walked across the battlefield littered with the corpses of tens of thousands. Most of the horses had died with their riders, bloodied foam in their mouths, eyes rolled back. A graveyard of self-inflicted death.

Still, I didn't want to give up. I mustn't cut corners if I wanted to enter the capital.

Sprint.

Fwoosh!

I sprinted past the allied corpses. My destination was the Red Fox Plains, where Isaac's plan had successfully encircled and annihilated the imperial army. The steed of their commanding general could be useful.

Of course, I remembered where Oscar's body was.

"Summon."

The skill I had just acquired responded intuitively.

Rustle...

Flesh and blood peeled away like smoke from a corpse. Left behind was a skeleton clad in armor and a saddle. Its blue eyes stared at me, blank and dull.

[You have summoned a Rare-grade Skeletal Steed.]

[Loyalty: Low]

"Neigh..."

Not exactly a warm welcome. Maybe it recognized that I had killed its master.

[The Skeletal Steed subconsciously longs for its former kind master.]

[If you exhibit similar behavior, its loyalty will increase.]

Similar to Oscar? I couldn't mimic his appearance, but I could at least try. I retrieved a long lance lying nearby, infused the blade with energy, and hurled it at a boulder by the river. I threw it while standing, but it was definitely a variation of Oscar's mounted spear technique. The lance embedded itself deep in the rock, vibrating faintly.

"Neigh!"

The newly summoned skeletal steed saw the display and stepped closer, assuming a position that made mounting easy.

[Loyalty increased.]

[Low → Moderate]

That worked better than expected. I climbed into the saddle.

[Perk activated: Taming (B)]

With my high Horse-riding level and the new perk, the steed seemed far more comfortable having me on its back.

[Loyalty increasing...]

Even when everything was done, not a single crow circled the corpse-ridden battlefield. Maybe they recognized the white powder scattered by the Tower Master of Innocence.

Clop! Clop! Clop!

I urged the horse forward, heading straight for the imperial capital, unfallen since its founding. Ballistae and catapults were likely useless against those thick walls. The city's fortress rose monstrously high, its presence overwhelming even a kilometer away.

Trying to break through the gates and scaling the wall were two very different things. Soon, I was close enough to see the individual stones making up the enormous structure. What would happen if I hurled a blazing fireball at the wall? Would it be deflected by some protective magic?

[Skill: Spell Insight Lv. 3 activated.]

[No traces found.]

Surprisingly, there were no magic wards on the wall. Perhaps protecting an entire city with a single barrier was too much to ask. The gate was the same. I considered whether I could just break it down. That was when I felt a gaze from the top of the wall. A knight stood there, clad in worn-out armor crudely stitched together.

Who is that?

His face was fully covered by a helmet. Even so, his gaze felt sticky and warped. There was no hostility toward an invader. Neither fear, nor even calm indifference. It was twisted. Slippery. Wrong. When I looked again, the wall was empty. Strange. Maybe everyone had already fled.

All I needed was to locate the imperial burial grounds.

Creeeeaaaak...

As I drew closer to the gate, it opened.

Clop. Clop. Clop...

From within came a line of mounted knights. Yellowed helmets, armor so dented and rusted they seemed like scrap metal. They slumped forward on sluggish horses, barely holding on. Their swords were so corroded I doubted they could even cut through cloth.

But something about them...

Clop. Clop. Clop...

Despite the worn armor, no two knights were exactly alike. Their helmets were also varied, except that every one of them completely obscured the face.

Clop...

Even so, their builds were eerily identical. The horses dragged their hooves as if unwilling, almost limping toward me.

Clop! Clop! Clop!

The moment they got close, the thirty riders suddenly broke into a desperate charge. Every single one of the horses was modeled after the horse I'd imagined when summoning my steed: Marquis Leandro's prized black stallion, Miyu.