The creature surges forward.

The Bone Eater.

A horror that devours the dead to build itself anew, a monster of stolen nobility pieced together from sacred crypts.

Aeternus rises in borrowed hands. The blade remembers its purpose, even here in the deep dark. Wolf bones gifted from fallen balverines lie quiet within this frame. Dragon fragments taken from the wyrm at Candlekeep remain still. No bestial instincts cloud this moment.

Only ancient discipline remains. The weight of countless battles fought by these borrowed pieces. The memory of ten thousand sword forms, passed down through bone and steel.

The Bone Eater charges. Flesh ripples, motion writhing beneath leathered skin stretched between stolen bones. It launches forward, covering ground in a single bound. Claws extend, ready to rend and tear.

The strike comes. Fast. Brutal. Meant to end resistance immediately.

Shield raises. Demon skull meets corrupted claws.

The creature hesitates. Head tilts, studying this prey that stands instead of fleeing. That fights instead of falling. Recognition dawns in those hollow sockets. This is not living flesh to terrorize. Not dead bone to devour. Something else. Something that refuses its hunger.

Its limbs twitch with uncertainty. Multiple jaws work soundlessly, tasting air that should carry fear's scent. No fear radiates from these borrowed bones. No terror feeds its hunger. No life essence to drain. No fresh corpse to consume.

The Bone Eater circles, movements jerky and agitated. Its stolen parts click together in confused patterns, revealing its experience hunting only two types of prey: the living who run, and the dead who stay still.

These bones do neither.

Aeternus moves and slashes out. The blade finds the creature's exposed underside, parting leather-like flesh. No blood flows, only a black liquid that seeps like graveyard soil. The Bone Eater recoils, revealing exposed ribs.

It hisses.

The creature retreats, twisted fingers grasping at its own frame. With purpose, it wrenches free one of its countless ribs. The bone comes loose. Before these hollowed sockets, the rib changes. Calcifies. Hardens into something meant to pierce and kill.

A spear of bone launches forward.

The bone spear pierces my ribcage, shattering bones where it hits. The impact drives this frame backward, scraping against stone floor. Fragments scatter across the chamber. No pain registers. These bones know no suffering.

The Bone Eater pauses, waiting for its prey to fall. To die. To become another feast.

I take a step forward. Another. The spear protrudes from where a heart should beat. Where life should end. But this form holds no heart. These bones harbor no life to extinguish.

Skeletal fingers grasp the projectile and wrench it free. My frame rebuilds itself, ribs knitting back together. Borrowed bones know their place. Each fragment returns, drawn by purpose that transcends mere animation. Shattered ribs reform their protective cage. Cracked vertebrae fuse anew.

The Bone Eater watches in agitation. The wound in its chest begins to close. Like these borrowed bones, it knows reconstruction. Black ichor congeals, forming new tissue. Stolen bones shift and realign, clicking into proper positions. The slash from Aeternus seals itself, leaving only a darker patch on its leather-like hide.

We share this trait then, the ability to remake ourselves. But where these bones rebuild through purpose and ancient magic, the Bone Eater repairs through consumption and corruption.

Its hollow sockets fix upon my frame with new understanding. The stolen bones comprising its mass shift and settle, adapting to this knowledge. Not prey that dies. Not corpse that feeds. But something that, like itself, persists.

The creature flexes its many limbs, bone cracking against bone as it settles into a new stance. Its form flows like liquid, restructuring itself for combat rather than slaughter. Stolen noble bones align into proper formations, creating natural armor across vital points.

The Bone Eater's form shifts, bones grinding and popping as its mass flows upward. Stolen remains click and settle into new configurations. Its hunched posture straightens, spine elongating until it towers nearly twice my height.

Finger bones fuse and extend into massive claws. Additional arms sprout from its torso, each ending in hooked talons crafted from noble remains. Hindquarters rise, leg bones restructuring with curved claws that scrape grooves into the stone floor. Something of speed and power rather than lurking hunger.

The creature's stolen bones lock into place with a final click.

The Bone Eater strikes first, multiple arms lashing out in different patterns. The shield, crafted from demon skull, smashes into its knee joint. Stolen bones crack. The Bone Eater stumbles.

Its recovery proves swift. A tail of fused vertebrae whips around, catching these legs. The impact scatters borrowed bones across stone floor. Distance opens between us.

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Each piece knows its place. Skeletal fingers crawl toward scattered ribs. Femur rolls back to join reformed knee. Purpose draws the fragments together.

The Bone Eater doesn't wait. It pounces on half-rebuilt form, multiple jaws seeking crucial joints. Shield rises, wedging between snapping teeth. Claws rake borrowed bones, tearing pieces free.

Aeternus strikes upward, blade finding the creature's throat. Black ichor pours over these bones. The Bone Eater reels back, giving space to complete reconstruction.

My frame rises, whole once more. The creature's wound already seals, stolen bones shifting to protect its vulnerability. We circle each other, two beings that refuse to stay broken.

Its next attack comes from above, impossibly long arms reaching down. I roll beneath the strike, Aeternus opening a gash along its torso. More ichor flows. The creature's ribs spread wide, trying to trap borrowed sword arm between their points.

Shield smashes the exposed bones aside. Aeternus follows, stabbing deep into the Bone Eater's core. The blade pins it to a fallen column.

The creature thrashes, its stolen bones grinding against steel. Black fluid pools beneath its writhing form. Then it grins.

Its mass flows around the sword's point, bones restructuring to either side of the blade. The Bone Eater reforms and then it bites.

Multiple jaws clamp down, teeth of stolen nobility piercing borrowed armor and bone. My sword arm separates at the shoulder with a sharp crack. The Bone Eater's mass flows around the severed limb, consuming steel and bone alike. Aeternus disappears within.

My shield rises as the creature's body ripples, stolen bones shifting to accommodate its latest meal. My sword arm becomes part of its mass, yellowed bone joining the countless others comprising its form. Aeternus sinks deeper into its corrupted frame.

The current that drives these bones pulses weaker. Not from damage—this form knows no pain—but from the loss of Aeternus. The blade served as more than weapon. It channeled purpose through ancient steel.

My shield, crafted from demon skull, remains ready. These bones may lack Aeternus, but purpose persists. The loss of sword arm changes nothing. This frame has fought with less before.

The creature's form settles, new acquisitions fully absorbed. Its hollow sockets fix upon my remaining limbs, assessing what pieces to devour next.

Purpose demands adaptation.

Dragon bones stir within this frame, dormant fragments from the wyrm at Candlekeep awakening. Balverine bones respond, wolf-spirit rising through borrowed marrow. The shield in my remaining hand pulses, demon skull remembering its former power.

No longer separate pieces, but a unified whole.

The Duke's essence still lingers in this shield, dark energy that once commanded legions. Like the dragon bones that reinforced this frame, like the wolf bones that granted new strength, this demon skull waited for its moment.

I pull the fragments together. Dragon. Wolf. Demon. Not stolen. Chosen.

The shield's surface ripples, responding to borrowed will. What once belonged to the Duke now belongs to this purpose. Its power flows through borrowed bones, joining with dragon fragments and wolf remains.

The demon skull shield pulses once. Accepts its place.

My remaining hand tightens on transformed demon bone as borrowed fragments click into new configurations. This frame knows what comes next. Purpose guides these bones toward necessary change.

Where the shield meets my forearm, dark threads merge with battered marrow. The demon's old hunger, never truly gone, merges with the calm discipline of a soldier's memory. Bandages tear as the shield's remnants fuse with bare bone. Each blackened splinter dissolves into me, forging a single, unholy limb.

My skeleton takes on a demonic outline. Talons lengthen at my fingertips, each wrapped in a faint black sheen. Ridges sprout along my forearm, an echo of the Duke's helm. Unholy sigils swirl across newly darkened bone plates.

The transformation unlocks a portion of the demon's might. At my elbow, bone spurs curve outward, forming a half-ring of spikes. Tendons that never existed slide beneath ivory, granting flexible brutality.

A subdued glow pulses under each spike, reminiscent of smoldering ember. Ribs subtly widen, reinforcing the chest for monstrous collisions.

No roar follows, only a soldier's silent vow.

The Bone Eater charges, its mass of stolen nobility surging forward like a wave of corrupted grave soil. My transformed arm meets its assault. Demon-fused bone crashes against its stolen frame. The impact shatters several of its ribs, black ichor spraying across stone floor.

The creature reels back, multiple jaws snapping in confusion. Its stolen bones shift and realign, attempting to compensate for this new threat.

I press forward. The demon-forged limb strikes again, each blow carrying infernal weight. Where the transformed bone connects, the Bone Eater's stolen parts crack and splinter.

It retaliates. Claws rake across my chest, tearing borrowed ribs free. The damage matters not. Dragon bone reinforcement holds the core frame together while scattered pieces return to place.

The creature's mass ripples, Aeternus still buried within its corrupted form. My sword arm remains part of its collection, yet purpose drives these bones forward.

My demon-transformed limb finds a gap between its shifting plates. Infernal talons pierce deep, tearing free a cluster of noble bones. The Bone Eater shrieks.

Black fluid pools beneath our struggle. Its stolen bones grind against my transformed frame. We lock together, neither yielding, neither breaking.

Fire stirs within hollow marrow. Not the flame that once reduced these bones to ash, but something darker. Infernal heat radiates from transformed limb, turning stone floor molten where demon-fused talons strike.

Purpose remains clear despite this burning compulsion. Yet something else rises through borrowed bones. The Duke's essence lingers in these demon fragments, awakening memories of hellfire and conquest.

Heat wells without. Infernal power seeps from transformed limb, spreading across borrowed ribs and spine. The realization comes without emotion. These bones have become something new, neither fully skeleton nor demon, but a fusion of borrowed purpose and infernal might.

Black fluid boils where transformed bone meets stolen remains. The Bone Eater thrashes, multiple jaws snapping at empty air. Its noble bones crack and splinter under infernal pressure.

Fire erupts from hollow marrow. Not natural flame, but hell's own burning.

The Bone Eater's stolen bones ignite. Corrupted tissue blackens and peels. Its mass writhes, trying to shed burning parts, to restructure away from spreading flame. But infernal fire catches in each stolen fragment.

Noble bones, torn from sacred crypts, glow white-hot within its form.

My transformed arm plunges into the Bone Eater's burning core. Demon-fused bone meets steel. Fingers close around Aeternus's familiar hilt.

I wrench the blade free. The Bone Eater's form ruptures, black ichor igniting as it contacts infernal flame. My severed arm comes with the sword, bone fragments already returning to proper place.

The creature's stolen parts scatter.

The mass of noble bones begins to collapse, structure failing as supporting tissue burns away. The Bone Eater's hollow sockets fix upon this transformed frame one final time. Recognition flares in those empty depths, not of prey or predator, but of something beyond its understanding.

Aeternus strikes.

The blade cleaves through the creature's core. Stolen bones explode outward, each fragment trailing streams of black fluid that ignite mid-air.

The Bone Eater's form dissolves into burning pieces. Noble remains rain down, finally freed from its corrupted mass.

Where it stood, only scorched stone remains.