Fox Tale Of A Dungeon Boss 40 Chapter 40: War... Dancer?

Yet it backed off.

I felt confused, but I threw that confusion away. I needed to hold onto whatever this state was, this sense of the world.

We both waited, and some part of me registered a weakness of the state I'm in.

I can react, but to take action myself would disrupt the flow. So all I can do is... wait.

They strike, I deflect and strike back.

Again, and again, and again.

Slowly, I begin to move forward. First I would strike back, they'd dodge, then back away until they struck again.

Then I would strike, following up with another strike as they dodged, which they would deflect.

Then I would use their parry to swing yet a third attack, and on and on, until eventually they weren't backing away anymore, as we clashed, attacking and parrying back and forth.

I knew the ghost was strong even, h.e.l.l, skilled enough to kill me in an instant, predictive ability or no. It seemed as though it were drawing it out, waiting for me to show all I had, or break through something.

I felt it, like a line I couldn't cross, the slight difference in my speed and what the tune of battle demanded of me.

I pushed, harder and harder.

The audience to this battle were now watching with rapt attention, the old ghosts smile never leaving his face, growing wider and wider. "That was fast. Most take a bit longer to figure out their style..."

Luna somewhat shocked at this fast-paced rapid movement which to her seemed beyond what the Fox she knew was capable of. Fenrir was following the battle, seeing the body language and trying to determine what would happen next, sharpening his intuition against this sight.

Finally... something changed. A barrier was crossed, a line snapped, and my speed was where it finally needed to be, and as they raised their spear I saw something... almost like a ghost image of my spear flicking forth, and how they'd move. Like I could see the future.

So I adjusted my aim, striking as of at my original spot, but flexing my wrist to shift it right as the ghost moved it's head, and...

The ghost flickered so fast it was out of sight, and I felt the pain of my chest being stabbed straight through.

After being restored to well-being, I glared at the old ghost.

"That was cheap! G.o.dd.a.m.n unwinnable fights! You'll p.i.s.s me off no matter what world I'm in! Can I not just live through a video game?"

The ghost had expected some sort of annoyance, but this full blown tirade against... 'What? Video Games? I get what games are but... what is a video?' was somewhat unexpected.
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Luna blinked, throwing this newest nonsensical statement aside, laughing to herself. "Well it looks like he is still that same guy." She muttered under her breath.

Fenrir gave a nod, as if agreeing with her, which surprised her a bit.

I finally relaxed after trailing off my rant, sighing.

'I uh... don't understand. I did something wrong?'

"Well it looks like you got some potential as a Battle Dancer!" The ghost laughed, and continued.

"Typically a Battle Dancer is a Dancer who learns to fight in time with the music another plays. So a dancing troupe might become battle dancers who are lead by their musician who directs them into battle by the beat of the song."

'Oh. Yeah that really is a reactive and submissive cla.s.s, not very Dungeon Boss at all.'

"Of course, the job cla.s.s can eventually evolve into War Dancer, but even then it's still pretty reliant on the enemy, but if the enemy has no sense for that music you follow, they'll be like gra.s.s ready to cut."

I grimaced. "Which is to say, if they can follow it, I'm f.u.c.ked?"

The ghost smirked and pointed at me, as if c.o.c.king a spell, and made an explosion sound effect. "You got it."

d.a.m.n. I'm looking to be the worst Dungeon Boss ever.

'Wait... the info I was given... didn't say I'd entered the job cla.s.s?'

Okay. Yeah I'm curious.

"Hey... old man?"

The ghost noticed the air had changed around the young boy.

"What's wrong? I know you might be disappointed, but even if battle dancers are usually women, it doesn't matter too much. It's a perfectly fine way to go."

"No no, I'm just wondering... I guess I just have this gut feeling that there's more to this than just the dancing? Agh how to say... I'm wondering if there are other job cla.s.ses a.s.sociated with this."

The old man laughed. "Well sure, many! Warrior cla.s.ses based on prediction, music cla.s.ses such as bards, or-"

"Wait there's music cla.s.ses?"

I don't know how else to phrase it... but when he mentioned music based job cla.s.ses, I felt the familiar heat not just rise up in me, but surge as a pulse throughout my being.

He just pointed down the hall to the musical instruments with a small sarcastic look on his face.

"No, that's all just for show."

I winced. "G.o.d, okay, I understand. Don't give me that look."

He laughed again. This kid was kinda funny! He wasn't anywhere near as great as one would hope the last of their kind could be... he obviously was good with being inventive with magic, but lacked the firepower with an average mana.

He wasn't cut out to be a full blown warrior, even if his physical traits were honestly some of the best he'd seen in one so untrained, but the amount of mana he could use in blood aura was rather obviously below even the average.

He seemed to be more suited to be a normal citizen, not the one who carries on a legacy.

'Well, I guess that's just our fate... we have no more heroes even in death.' He sighed, a bit disappointed.

I felt that disappointment cut through me like a knife, but I kept focusing on the task at hand. It's not like it hurt much in comparison to dying so many times.

I meanwhile was looking at the instruments.

What to play? Did I even know how to play music?

But... to make beautiful sound doesn't require actual training necessarily. Even if you can hold a beat, people will slap tables, clap their hands, sing along in whatever order or speed they like.

Music is chaotic, and while most of it is ordered formally, in truth anyone could take any instrument, and if you know how to make sounds from it, you can make your own music, no matter how chaotic or unaligned.

Eventually my eyesight settled on a... violin? Fiddle? It was a guitar-like body that was small, meant to be held between head and arm, with the bow to be drawn along its strings.

I picked it up, but no ghost appeared. I guess music doesn't need to be a compet.i.tion to show one's talents.

'...play.'

'Play. Play. Play it. Let it sound. Remember...'

My hands grabbed the bow, lifting the instrument up, as the heat flooded up my arms.

"...remember this music!" I suddenly shouted, hands drawing down, and the first note rung out.

And throughout this town of memories and emotion, filled with countless ghosts hidden from sight, this note pierced through walls and souls, as all the dead could feel a soul power similar to their own filling the note.

And it... was alive.