Chapter 13: Aerial Strike
Noah’s desperation fueled him as he struggled to find a way out of the merciless grip of the skeleton’s attacks. With every bone and muscle aching, he knew this would be his last chance—he needed a breakthrough. As he focused on the system interface, the choices for new skills blinked in front of him, each one like a lifeline in this relentless fight. He didn’t have time to analyze, to think; he had to act, to trust his instincts. So, he rolled the dice within himself and selected [Aerial Strike].
Name: Noah O. Knight
Class: Freedom
Level 5
Stats (0)—
Body: 39
Mind: 10
Soul: 12
Skill: Fly, Aerial Strike
The skill integrated into his being, a strange rush of information slipping seamlessly into his mind. Skills weren’t just commands—they were instincts, whispers guiding him to unlock power he’d never known. He realized that each skill had its own identity, a specific way it wanted to be wielded. Aerial Strike wasn’t just a move; it was a force, a momentum meant to harness his body and mind together as one, blending raw power with precision.
With a renewed surge of energy, Noah rose higher in the air, positioning himself just out of the skeleton’s range. The skeleton’s mace swung up to strike, but Noah dodged swiftly, evading its reach. His heart pounded in his chest as he felt the power of Aerial Strike urging him forward. He gripped his sword tightly, his voice a fierce declaration as he unleashed the skill before the skeleton could summon its chains.
“Aerial Strike!”
His sword ignited with a raw, almost elemental energy, every ounce of his strength pouring into the swing. He descended toward the skeleton with blistering speed, his blade cutting through the air like a force of nature. The skeleton barely had time to raise its shield before the impact struck. Noah’s sword slammed into the shield with a thunderous clash, a fierce gust of wind exploding from the point of impact.
For a moment, they were locked together, his blade pressing against the skeletal warrior’s shield. Noah’s teeth gritted as he pushed with everything he had, his eyes blazing with an intensity he hadn’t known he possessed.
“I refuse to give up!” he growled, every ounce of his willpower pouring into the strike.
Their eyes met—hollow, vacant sockets against his fiery determination. Noah knew, in that instant, that he had something this creature didn’t: a fighting spirit that wouldn’t die.
This was his fight, his will against the darkness, and he wouldn’t be defeated.
Noah’s mind raced, finding possibilities even within his limited options. He knew [Aerial Strike] was only supposed to activate from mid-air, but he sensed there was a way around that restriction. If all the skill needed was an elevated position, then he’d simply redefine what it meant to be “mid-air.” Skills had a life of their own, a subtle rebellion against being confined. To wield them fully, he’d have to meet them with his own unbreakable will.
Since Noah’s toes weren’t touching the ground and that he had higher elevation, his skill still registered him being mid-air.
Noah was one step ahead as the skeleton raised its mace to strike. He channeled [Aerial Strike] into his sword once more, letting his conviction fuel the skill. “This is my fight, my rules!” he thought fiercely, letting his will infuse the blade as he hovered above the ground.
Sparks flew as he swung, meeting the skeleton’s shield with the skill’s powerful burst of energy. The skeleton staggered back, its guard disrupted, and Noah seized the moment.
Letting the skill’s momentum carry him, Noah rolled in the air, twisting his body into a controlled spin as he advanced again. His left shoulder throbbed with pain, but he grit his teeth and clutched his sword with both hands, pushing through the discomfort. The skeleton began to retreat as spectral energy wreathed its shield in anticipation.
“Haaaagh!”
Noah roared with a voice filled with determination as he unleashed [Aerial Strike] again. His sword glowed an intense blue, the power building and swirling around it like a storm.
The skeleton raised its shield with spectral energy thickening around it in defense. But Noah was relentless. He directed every ounce of his focus, his will, and his sheer fighting spirit into the blow. His sword crashed down with a ferocity that shook the air, slicing through the spectral energy and driving the skeleton back. He saw cracks splinter across the shield, fragments of bone flaking off.
This was the way forward.
“Haaaagh~~!”
Noah’s body was screaming in pain. His wrists ached with every movement, the exhaustion from the battle settling deep in his muscles, but he refused to stop. His legs burned from the effort of maintaining control in the air, and yet, Noah zigzagged across the narrow space, dodging the skeletal warrior’s swings with a fluid grace that belied the intensity of his exhaustion. He knew the moment he slowed down, the chains would catch him again, and the mace would follow. He couldn't afford that.
His right hand was the only one he could still rely on, the hilt of his sword gripped tightly in his palm. His left wrist felt like it might snap with every twist, but he endured. He couldn’t allow himself to think about the pain. Not now. Not when the skeleton was still there, relentlessly pursuing him, its ghostly chains and immense strength a constant threat.
With a sharp exhale, Noah pulled back his right arm, the hilt of the sword now crackling with the remains of his [Aerial Strike]. He couldn’t summon the strength to wield the sword properly anymore—its weight was too much for his aching limbs—but he could still use the technique.
“Aerial Strike!” he shouted, his voice hoarse but filled with determination. The hilt, with the remnants of the broken blade, shot forward like a missile. The skeleton, anticipating the attack, raised its mace to deflect it. The hilt collided with the shield and splintered further, but it managed to break through the defenses, leaving the skeleton momentarily distracted.
Noah seized the moment. He flew forward with every ounce of willpower he had left, his body moving on instinct, his hand now empty but still brimming with power. As he neared the skeleton, he twisted mid-air and delivered a knife-hand strike straight to its exposed wrist, aimed to disarm it. The blow landed with a thud, and though it didn't break through the armor, it was enough to send the skeleton's sword flying from its grasp.
His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t stop now.
Noah clenched his fists, the pain making his vision blur for a second. He didn’t care.
With a final burst of energy, he threw himself into a flurry of attacks. Each jab, hook, and overhead punch was imbued with the power of [Aerial Strike], aimed at the skeleton’s skull, its joints, anywhere that wasn’t protected by armor. Every strike was an attempt to chip away at its unyielding frame.
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Noah’s movements were chaotic but purposeful. He had no time to think about the mechanics of the strike—his body was operating purely on instinct now.
As long as he stayed in the air, the skill would work.
The skeleton swung wildly, trying to intercept him, but Noah danced just out of reach, his fists landing blow after blow, chipping away at the undead warrior.
Noah’s knuckles burned, bruised and raw, but he kept going. The cracks spreading across the skeleton’s bones were a sign that he was making progress, even if the undead creature showed no signs of slowing down. He’d learned through gritted teeth that his fists—blunt and forceful—could chip away at the skeleton more effectively than any sharp blade. The irony wasn’t lost on him; all his weaponry gone, and yet he was relying on pure grit and his bare fists to stay alive.
The skeleton, unfazed by its own damage, suddenly erupted with spectral chains, glowing with an unholy light. They shot out from between its bones and armor, linking it to Noah and yanking him back into close quarters. Noah barely had time to react as the creature charged forward with brutal speed, intent on crushing him with its weight.
With a surge of instinct, Noah propelled himself higher, just enough to get an advantage in position. Gritting his teeth, he threw himself forward in an unexpected, last-ditch move. “Aerial Strike!” he roared, directing all his might into a headbutt. His forehead slammed into the skeleton’s skull with a bone-shattering impact. His skull was the toughest bone he had, and right now, he’d make it his weapon. He felt the crack echo through both of them as the skeleton’s forehead fractured, pieces splintering and falling away. Yet even this wasn’t enough to end the fight.
The creature’s bony hands latched onto him in a death grip, arms locking around his torso with unnatural strength. Noah could feel the air squeezed from his lungs, pain blossoming as it tried to crush him.
Desperation flared. Noah called on his [Fly] skill, his body moving on sheer survival instinct. He pressed the skeleton upward, grinding it against the sharp stalactites and jagged edges of the ceiling. He scraped the creature’s bones against the rocks, hoping to break the stubborn corpse into pieces. But the skeleton fought on, leaning forward to clamp its jaw onto his ear with relentless force.
Noah screamed as he felt his ear tear away, blood trickling down his cheek. His vision blurred as he lost his grip and they tumbled apart. He hit the ground with a brutal thud, every inch of his body aching as he rolled to a stop, gasping for air. Pain pulsed through his skull, his shoulder, and now his missing ear.
He forced himself to his feet, barely able to stay steady, while the skeleton staggered up as well, its broken skull somehow still holding together. It spat the torn piece of his ear to the floor, its hollow gaze still locked on him, determined to finish the battle. Noah’s breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. He clenched his fists, feeling his own blood trickle between his fingers.
The danger was far from over. But Noah was not done fighting.
Noah’s legs trembled, his body a mass of bruises and open wounds, yet he pushed himself upright, fists clenched tight despite the pain. He knew this was it—he was on his last legs, every muscle screaming for mercy, but surrender wasn’t an option. There was a raw, frantic energy coursing through him, mingled with fear and an unexpected, stubborn will to live. It reminded him, fleetingly, of the reckless day he’d leaped off the roof just to feel the rush of freedom. Back then, he thought that staring into the unknown was exhilarating. Now, staring death in the face, he realized he’d been a fool.
“I want to live,” he whispered to himself, spitting out a loose tooth mixed with blood. He tasted metal on his tongue, and felt his ear burning with pain, but he didn’t back down.
The skeleton stood before him, its bone-plated frame battered and cracked, yet no less menacing. Cracks spider-webbed through its limbs, its armor battered but somehow still ready for the fight. And as if to taunt him, it shifted its stance, lowering into a posture that seemed practiced—like it had once been a master of martial arts. Noah’s fists shook, his body practically begging him to yield, but he clenched his jaw. This skeleton had tricks up its sleeve, more than any monster he’d encountered yet, and it didn’t intend to stop until one of them was broken beyond repair.
“So...you still have fight left in you?” he muttered, more to himself than to the creature. His voice came out as a shaky whisper, but he steadied himself, planting his feet. He forced himself to deactivate his [Fly] skill. He needed every ounce of strength if he was going to outlast this monster.
They stared each other down for a long, charged moment. Then, in a sudden clash of movement, the skeleton lunged, its bony limbs flying toward him in a relentless barrage. Noah moved on instinct alone, swaying back and forth as he dodged, each move painfully slow but just barely quick enough to evade the crushing blows. He countered, his knuckles slamming into the exposed cracks on its arms and ribs, ignoring the sharp sting that jarred up his bones with each hit.
But the skeleton didn’t relent. It was merciless, each blow heavier and faster, forcing him back with every step. He was panting, his vision beginning to blur from exhaustion, yet every time he felt himself faltering, he'd grit his teeth harder. ‘I’m not dying here,’ he told himself, every beat of his heart pulsing with defiance.
Finally, with a cry that tore out of him from somewhere deep and desperate, he ducked under the skeleton’s sweeping strike and launched himself forward. He put every ounce of his remaining strength into a punch aimed directly at its cracked sternum. His fist connected, and with a sickening crunch, the skeleton staggered back, pieces of bone splintering from its torso.
Noah planted himself firmly, staring down his relentless opponent. The air between them was thick with tension, a raw clash of wills. His heart pounded with fury, exhaustion, and the unyielding drive to see this through to the bitter end.
Gritting his teeth, he shouted, “Come at me, you stubborn bastard!” He was tired, yes, but he was done backing down. It was either he’d triumph or he’d die trying.
As if sensing the challenge, the skeleton lunged forward with the ferocity of a wild beast, its empty eye sockets locked onto him. Noah braced himself, watching as it closed in. Its jagged knuckles flew toward him in a brutal one-two jab, but Noah leaped back with his [Fly] skill, narrowly avoiding the blows. He grounded himself, shut off his skill to conserve energy, and then launched forward, his muscles straining with the full force of his tackle.
The skeleton reacted instantly, thrusting out a front kick toward Noah’s face. He twisted, using [Fly] again to lift himself just out of range, feeling the swipe of its kick miss by mere inches. He caught a glimpse of the exposed sections on its left side, visibly weakened and chipped. This was his moment.
Pivoting midair, Noah pulled his knee up and drove it into the skeleton’s left shoulder with a swift, powerful kick, halting its movement. Using the momentum, he shot forward, dodging a retaliatory swing, his body aligned perfectly for his next move. With one swift motion, he stretched out his left arm, catching the creature by the jaw as he gritted his teeth.
“Time to fly!” he shouted, pouring the last reserves of his strength into his [Fly] skill. With a surge of speed, he soared upward, pulling the skeleton with him. The altitude grew rapidly, the creature dangling from his arm, its bones rattling as they ascended higher and higher.
Then, with all his might, he unleashed his final strike. “AERIAL STRIKE!!” His arm ignited with power, and he released the skeleton, slamming it down with an explosive force. The creature crashed to the ground. An eruption of dust and earth billowed from the impact.
Noah hovered there, breathing heavily, feeling every bruise and ache as he watched the dust settle. The skeleton lay shattered, scattered bones spread in a broken heap.
As Noah drifted down, his [Fly] skill faltered. The surge of pain overwhelmed his focus, and he began plummeting toward the ground. He clenched his teeth, reaching for his skill one last time, slowing his descent just enough to land with a rough but manageable thump.
He crumpled to his knees with a groan escaping him as the pain surged through every inch of his battered body. His skin felt raw and bruised; his arms ached with a bone-deep soreness. His left shoulder throbbed, his knuckles were scraped and swollen, and a stinging ache radiated from his jaw. Blood dripped from his forehead, trickling down his face, mixing with the dirt and sweat that coated him. Every breath was shallow and sharp, his ribs protesting each inhale.
Through his haze, he heard soft footsteps approaching. Althea staggered into view, holding her side, her face pale and blood-smeared. She seemed to be favoring her left side, her hand pressed tightly over a wound as if to hold herself together.
She knelt beside him, her eyes wide with worry as she took in his bruised, broken form. "You look terribly hurt… let me help you…" she murmured, her voice low and soothing, though strained from her own pain.
Noah managed a weak, triumphant smile, his voice barely a whisper. "I… I won…"
"Yes… yes… you won…" Althea’s words were soft, full of relief, as she reached out to steady him.
But the world was already slipping from Noah’s grasp. Her face blurred, her words fading, and darkness encroached upon his vision. His body, finally exhausted beyond its limits, surrendered, and everything faded into silence as he fell into unconsciousness.