The warhammer whistled through the air before stopping with a crunch as the helmeted head of the adventurer broke like an egg. The suit of armor stood up from its crouch, already moving back towards its waiting alcove when a notification stopped it.
Level up!
Level 20 threshold achieved
Evolution requirements met
Congratulations! You have evolved from a - Moving Armor!
You are now a - Haunted Armor, Level 1
For the first time, thoughts swarmed through the empty helmet of the armor, as it became Aware. He shook his helmet, the clattering of the metal soothing his jumbled mind. He looked around at his surroundings, the dimly lit hallway of carved bricks surrounding him like a comforting embrace. He instinctively knew where he was, the minds of dungeon born monsters automatically knowing such information.
He was in the Novice Tier dungeon, Dread King’s Keep, and he had just killed an adventurer. His newly evolved status meant he was too strong to be on this floor and he should move up so a new armor could materialize to take his place. He should do that. But he didn't. He had a much bigger concern on his mind at the moment, and crouched down over the adventurer's corpse.
He started wiping at the blood splatter on his arms using the pants of the dead man, trying fruitlessly to clean off the filth. Armor should be shiny after all, and if he didn't get this blood off he would start to rust! His fumbling attempts at cleanliness were for naught however as he just smeared the splattered brains into his joints and grooves.
He let out a strangled howl and kicked at the useless body below him, rolling it over onto its back. Something glinted in the dim light and caught his gaze, snapping his attention to it. A silvery pin was stuck to the dead man's shirt and had been spared the spreading blood. He excitedly snatched the pin and clipped it to his tabard, clanking happily.
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He would need to find some other way of cleaning his gauntlets, so he set off for the inner areas of the Keep. He knew the map perfectly and even had knowledge of the secret paths that most adventurers never found. He twisted one of the torches sideways, and a panel slid open in the wall letting out a cloud of dust and cobwebs.
On second thought the main walkways were nice this time of day!
He went through the door to the ballroom, walking in a straight line towards the next door when he was stopped. One of the apparitions spinning around the floor struck out at him, her long claws sinking into the spaces between his plates. He shuddered as his internal mana was disrupted and reflexively punched out, accidentally dispelling the ghost in a rush of ectoplasm.
He was horrified at what he had just done to a fellow dungeon monster, sure she had attacked him first but he had killed her! Well, killed being an operative term, but it was still bad! Then he noticed the material ate through the brain matter in his joints and he didn't feel bad anymore. The bloodstains were still there, but at least he didn't have to worry about rotting meat any time soon.
With a start he realized that the pleasant ghostly music filling the hall had intensified to a consuming rhythm. The specters were dancing around him in a maelstrom of gaunt faces and tattered clothing.
“Terribly sorry”, his metallic voice rang out, “but my dance card is full!”
He tried to escape, but the swiping claws of the ghosts drove him back to the center. He quickly realized he had no other options and began swinging his fists through the ghosts. Leaving his hammer behind on the ground to free up his right hand might have felt foolish, but he knew it was the right choice. Their incorporeal bodies would be immaterial to his standard hammer, but his mana rich body had no such problems.
Each blow caused one of the flimsy ghosts to burst open like a frog caught beneath a wagon wheel. The ectoplasm thankfully didn't stain his armor, and in fact cleared away some gunk that he hadn't even realized was worked into his joints. He made a mental note to thank the spirits when they respawned, if they didn't attack him again that is.
Soon enough the ballroom was empty and the music slowly dropped to a whisper as the reward appeared at the base of the band stage. He walked over and opened the chest hoping for something he could use to clean off the blood. Instead he got a sack of coins and a dagger which he left in the box. He had no use for the items and didn't want to make the dungeon re-materialize them so left them to be recycled.
He still wasn't sure why the spirits had attacked him in the first place, but he didn't pay it much mind. After retrieving his hammer he set off down the corridors to the servants quarters, his epic quest for cleaning supplies just beginning!