Re: Demon, everything wants to kill me.

Log 17, The Elf Warrior

AN: I'm thinking of naming my chapters from now on, but what do you all think?
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"Who the hell are you?" The elf said with visible anger on his face.

Hm? That body doesn't look like Williams' body, and I do not remember Williams ever screeching vulgar words towards me.

So he is not Williams? How unfortunate...

Silence then fills the air as neither of us spoke a word. He then raises his sword and points it towards my skull and says.

"I'll ask again, Who are you?" He asks once more.

This is quite the predicament, I am unable to speak and I am also unable to defend myself without my vials and tools since I left them inside the carriage.

Perhaps the situation would have been different if he was infected with Solathemia, since Solasthemia much like Undead essence, enables one to communicate with undead such as I.

His eyes glances to the right and he began talking as if he was speaking to another person.

"The spirit told me you're an undead, but I don't recall there being any undead that could survive under light of the sun" He said.

Spirits?

Ah I see, I remember reading about elves being a race favored by spirits due to their inborn talent for magic, but regardless of talent, they, like everyone else, are still only experts at magic used in combat such as the spell fireball.

Quite unfortunate I must say, magic is far more versatile than a man made weapon yet they only use them as weapons of war. Even the spirits, beings who are made entirely of mana, are obsessed with using magic as a way of combat despite them hating conflict themselves.

Hold on... Is it perhaps possible?

"Ahem, Do you understand me Elf?" I asked moving my bones of my jaws.

Signs of confusion were painted on his face. Just as he was about to lower his scimitar his eyes caught a glint of red splatter near my shoulder making him raise his blade back up and closer towards my skull.

"Seems like you can't speak, but is that..."

Whilst putting his blade up my neck he strafes to the right and glances to the right of him and saw a the dead elf's body lying in the pool of blood, still gushing out blood.

Silence fills the air once more as he continues to hold his sword up my neck, not even showing a single sign of sweat or fatigue. I applaud this man's muscle strength I say, he might be useful as an advancement material.

"So... You did this..." He said coldly.

Oh dear...

He grits his teeth and charges at me, swinging his blade horizontally towards my neck. I evaded the man's first attack at the cost of him ripping the vest of my newly acquired suit, but the second one got me.

As soon as I evaded the swing, he simultaneously threw his dagger up my skull, flinging it off from my neck. I watch as the man leaps up into air whilst brandishing his scimitar towards me.

Well this... Is a quite the... Situation if I must say.

As his blade shatters open my skull, my vision switches to that of my torso, luckily the man ripped it.

Hmm... This is the 6th time my skull have been destroyed... The last time was when it was taken to a goblin cave for an odd ritual ceremony.

The man lands and sheathes both of his blades. I suppose he thinks I have died?