"You need to be capable of fighting any opponent, sometimes in unfavorable conditions," Hercules had shouted from his coaching seat beside the sand field where I had been learning how to fend off zombies and skeletons.
The sandy ground had made every move particularly difficult to accomplish, nevertheless I had been trying my best. I had not felt fatigue, hungry or thirst, so technically I was alike my moving targets.
Hercules had lent me a sword. Yes, a sword to fight against the undead, against a skeleton. "I could have lent you a spear if you think a sword isn't your thing," that had been his reply to my starting complaint.
Of course, at that time I had learned how to cast buffing spells, speed, and strength ones mainly, the endurance one I had understood the rudiments but couldn't feel any difference. Given my current condition as a soul.
