The summoning circles flashed to life, signaling the start of the third wave. I braced myself, expecting another onslaught of armored skeletons. Sure enough, the reinforced skeletons began to emerge.

But as the battlefield filled, something new caught my eye—a skeletal figure, markedly different from its counterparts, stepped into the fray.

Clad not in armor but in a simple robe, the figure stood out starkly against the sea of clanking bones and metal.

Its hood was pulled low over its skull, giving it an air of mystery. In its bony grip was a staff, large and seemingly cumbersome, yet it held it with intention.

I couldn't help but narrow my eyes in intrigue. This was no ordinary skeleton; this was something else, something more.

The robed skeleton raised its staff, and the air around it crackled with mysterious energy.

As the reinforced skeletons advanced, the robed figure remained behind, its staff beginning to glow with a menacing light.

Then to my surprise, flames began to manifest above the staff's head, swiftly converging at its center and rapidly growing in size.

"A skeleton mage!"

I had faced nothing but physical threats until now, and the introduction of magic into the battle was a curveball I hadn't anticipated so soon.

I realized then that my strategy could not be repeated. The sheer number of enemies was no longer the only factor to look out for; now, I had to contend with the unknown capabilities of magic.

The first spell was cast, a ball of fire hurtling towards me from the skeleton's staff.

I darted between the skeletons, easily evading the spell meant to harm me.

The skeletons, mindlessly dedicated to their task, offered no reaction as the mage’s fireball detonated among them. The explosion carved a drape of destruction through their ranks, reducing several to piles of charred bones.

The irony wasn’t lost on me—their own ally had thinned their numbers, inadvertently aiding my survival.

“Talk about friendly fire.”

The mage, undeterred by its collateral damage, was already summoning another spell.

The skeleton mage, while a significant threat on its own, also presented an opportunity—a chance to use the Tower's forces against themselves.

I focused on the mage, trying to anticipate its next move while remaining acutely aware of the warriors still pressing in. Their numbers might have been reduced, but they remained a constant threat as their numbers kept increasing.

As the mage prepared its next spell, I made a split-second decision. Rather than directly attacking, I positioned myself so the next fireball would have to pass through a cluster of its skeletal comrades to reach me.

The strategy paid off. The mage, seemingly oblivious to the consequences, released another fiery orb. I dodged at the last moment, the fireball passing harmlessly by me and into the group of skeletons I had maneuvered behind.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Another explosion rocked the chamber, and more skeletons were obliterated. The tactic felt almost too easy, I couldn't shake off a feeling of unease.

My instincts were proven right when another robed skeleton materialized from the opposite summoning circle, its staff already humming with the buildup of another spell.

"Of course, it couldn't be that simple!"

The appearance of the second skeleton mage forced me to split my focus three-way. Dodging projectiles from one was manageable; evading the skeleton warriors simultaneously was a test of my reflexes and awareness.

However, the addition of a second mage to this already precarious scenario made the situation even more complex.

I darted and weaved, using the cover of the warrior skeletons when possible, turning the mage's indiscriminate attacks to my advantage. But it was all I had.

Throughout this ordeal, I strategically chose not to trigger my self-immolation, opting instead to rely solely on the mages' spells to deal with the enemies in close quarters.

This approach was essentially my method of preserving my health points as much as possible, to avoid unnecessarily consuming another health potion when it wasn't absolutely necessary.

Just when I thought I had adapted to this new level of complexity, the Tower threw yet another curveball—two more mages appeared, each taking a corner of the room. Now, all four corners of the chamber were sources of deadly magical assaults.

Now, spells were flying at me from all corners, making it impossible to dodge them all. My ability to stay aware of everything around me just wasn't enough, and my evasive methods couldn't save me from every attack.

In this chaos, my focus wavered. I found myself unable to predict and dodge as I had before. Then, amidst my desperate attempts to navigate the barrage of attacks, a fireball struck me directly.

I braced for the devastating impact, expecting to be overwhelmed by excruciating pain, or worse, meet my end.

Bam!

The fireball struck me squarely, and for a moment, I was engulfed in flames.

Contrary to my expectations, however, the pain, while sharp, was not as catastrophic as I had feared. It was undeniably intense, yet, strangely bearable.

As the initial shock subsided, a realization dawned on me—the flames was not as lethal as the self-immolation I had willingly subjected myself to in past battles. My own flames were far more ferocious and unyielding than those wielded by my enemies.

This unexpected insight led me to question why the enemy's flames felt almost mild in comparison.

Could it be that my frequent use of self-immolation had inadvertently forged a resilience within me?

Reflecting, I recognized a pattern: each time I activated my self-immolation, and the longer I endured its blistering embrace, the less overwhelming the pain became. Despite the agony being almost unbearable at first, it seemed to diminish with each subsequent use.

Was I, then, developing an innate resistance to fire? This thought lingered in my mind, It was as if i was undergoing a baptism of fire without realizing it.

If my body was indeed becoming more tolerant of flames through repeated exposure to my own self-immolation, then it stood to reason that the spells of these skeleton mages might pose less of a threat than I had initially feared.

As the idea took root, a daring strategy formed in my mind. What if i could turn my own flames into a shield against the mages' fire? With a sense of reckless curiosity that had guided many of my decisions thus far, I decided to test my hypothesis.

As I activated my self-immolation skill, the intense flames that erupted from my body dwarfed the residual heat from the mage's previous attack.

I stood his ground, as another fiery projectile approached my direction.

With a thudding impact, the flame collided with me directly.

To my astonishment, the flames swirled around my fiery aura but failed to inflict any additional damage. Instead of the searing pain I braced myself for, I was greeted by an unexpected window notification floating before my eyes, offering a revelation that would fundamentally change my approach.

All flame-based attacks of lower intensity than the user's Self-Immolation ability have been neutralized and will not inflict damage.

"Ha! Hahaha! Once more, an unexpected advantage!"

As I stood amidst the battlefield, surrounded by the lesser flames of the skeleton mages, I readied myself to face to end this wave.