The snow is still falling.

Urs struggled to open his eyes, feeling a sharp pain that seemed to be tearing at his brain.

The virtual sensory system of Castaño, a fantasy fantasy game with swords and sorcery, is truly realistic. He remembered that he had been engaged with a group of hostile players from the Undead Camp on the Forgotten Plateau of the Ancient Dragon Realm a few minutes earlier, when a damned vampire assassin used two poisoned cursed daggers to sneak up on him from behind, sending him mercilessly from the front lines of the battle back to the Human Resistance's respawn point camp.

The character's weakened state after resurrection seems to be being accurately conveyed to him by the game system.

Urs gritted his teeth and gasped, shook his head slightly, and then sat up from the cold snow with his arms propped up, his eyes subconsciously looking around, but he was surprised to find that the surrounding scene was not a human camp located near the entrance to the Dragon Ancient Kingdom dungeon at all.

The scene in my eyes is a white world shrouded in wind and snow.

Recalling a little, he remembered that this empty and cold place seemed to be a snowfield in the Northland, and complained in his heart that he was so stupid that he even set the coordinates of the resurrection point in the wrong place, and at the same time reached for the dimensional storage bag on his waist, intending to take out a bottle of healing potion used to relieve his weak state and drink it.

The next second, the touch coming back from his fingertips made him feel a little unusual.

He frowned slightly, and suddenly looked down, only to notice that what he was grasping with his hand was an ordinary iron military sword.

The Giant's Ring of Power and the black-steel bracers named Queen Eryan's Claws had vanished as if they had evaporated.

The set of magical metal armor that was supposed to be worn on him somehow turned into a leather vest and linen shirt with a gray cloak.

The weight behind him was empty, and the molten iron greatsword that he usually held on his back with chains was not there.

"Those Byron Tass bandits! How did they pull the soul-bound item out of me? ”

The backstabbing skill of the thief class is not the Great Cleavage.

After a brief moment of consternation, ruling out the possibility that his equipment had been destroyed, Urs decided that the monkey apes from the game production team must have made some epic bugs, and immediately angrily raised a fist and hammered it to the ground, and then called out the game system to prepare to complain to the authorities.

The tiny particles of data converged, and the familiar system interface quickly emerged from the image in his mind.

Through the conscious operation, Urs easily brought up the game menu from the system interface, only to find that the options on the game menu, such as "Exit Game", "Parameter Settings", and "Friends List", all turned unselectable gray.

Something seems to be wrong......

A drop of cold sweat soaked from the tip of the hair on his forehead, and the shock and anger just now came to an abrupt end.

He swallowed his throat and tried to click on the only "stats panel" on the game's menu that still glowed faintly.

The game system immediately responded to his command, revealing a character card filled with data—

Name: Urles de Sean (11 overall rank)

Ethnicity: Human (Arranstrian/20-year-old male)

Posture: Humanoid creature (193 cm/black hair/brown eyes/yellow skin)

Faction tendency: Chaos Kindness

Soul Talent: - (Unawakened)

Idle points: 86 experience points, 0 attribute points, 0 specialty points, 0 skill points

Health: 24/30 (minor) (critically fatigued)

Class: Slave Soldier at level 10 / Barbarian at level 1 (Exp: 0/1100)

Attributes: Strength 19, Agility 16, Constitution 18, Intelligence 9, Perception 12, Charisma 7

Characteristic:

- Racial Trait (Arranstrian) - Unyielding Will: Injuries below near-death level do not affect character attributes.

Specialty:

- Class Specialty (Barbarian) - Sword Weapon Proficiency (Beginner): No proficiency penalty when using a sword weapon.

- Class Specialty (Barbarian) - Berserk (Beginner): 1 time per day. Enter Berserk, gain +4 Strength and +4 CON and become immune to Fear, falling into a state of fatigue after the Berserk time ends.

Skill:

- Tenacity 20, Intimidation 18, Slash 18, Parry 17, Scout 14, Riding 5

……

"! Whose trumpet is this? Carefully checking his character attributes, the corners of Urs's eyes twitched, and he couldn't help but curse in his heart.

If his memory was correct, he remembered that although his game ID was also called Urs, the character was obviously a legendary warrior who was counted in the major rankings of the official forum, not this battle scumbag who had a good initial stat but only a total level of 11.

A level 10 slave soldier with a regular class 1 barbarian? Hell, how could the owner of this account think of starting with such a limiting identity as a slave?

The name is also obtained, as if it is specially made to enhance the sense of substitution, as if it is made to be the same as the NPC aborigines......

"Wait—natives?"

Thinking of this, Urs shivered inexplicably, and a strange conjecture popped up in the depths of his brain.

Through.

Yes - as described in many web novels, he may have come to the game with memories of his past life and merged with the body and soul of an Aboriginal NPC. The current situation is very abrupt, but no matter what thoughts and dissatisfaction he has about it, from now on he has to choose to survive in this strange world that is both familiar and unfamiliar to him, and when he is forced to do so, he even has to use the weapons in his hands to fight all kinds of enemies and monsters with the consciousness of risking his life.

But...... That's a bit outrageous, isn't it?

Rather than seriously considering the possibility of crossing over, he prefers to believe that Castaño's idiot server has mistaken his login status and connected his personality consciousness to another player's account via a virtual device.

Strange thoughts flashed through my mind.

The bitter cold wind blew across the young man's cheeks like a frozen knife. Urs blinked in a daze, and a sense of intuition suddenly caused him to involuntarily look sideways in the direction beside him, and saw three humanoid skeletons looming out not far from him.

The skeleton monsters silhouetted out from the less visible wind and snow, their rusty old iron swords in their hands, their clumsy steps creaking in the snow, and six dark green flames lit up in their hollow eye sockets.

Mottled bones, cold soul fires—

That's the skeleton soldiers of the realm of the dead!

Moreover, the faint green flames in the eyes of those skeleton frames were staring at him like the eyes of a hound!

Having spent seven years in the game world, Urs knew the details of the other party at the first glance when he noticed this group of uninvited guests, without even throwing his reconnaissance skills.

The hatred and hostility between the living and the dead are self-evident.

The three skeleton soldiers who appeared on the snowfield quickly brandished their rusty swords and rushed towards Urs, these bones with burning eyes are one of the most common undead monsters in Castaño, their unconscious empty shells have no idea what fear is, and once they find that objects with life breath enter their own warning range, they will attack them like mad wild dogs.

Urs looked at the undead monsters that were coming at him.

In the face of the sudden danger, he didn't care too much for a while, then he got up from the ground, and reflexively clenched the iron sword in his hand, his brown eyes observed his enemies, and his feet in leather military boots immediately stepped forward with a skillful side step, dodging the tip of his sword stabbed by the first skeleton soldier, and at the same time aimed at the two soul fires in the latter's eye sockets and swung a fierce horizontal slash.

The importance of soul fire to undead creatures is no different from the relationship between the heart and humans.

The skin on the surface of the young man's arm bulged with a few steel-like muscles. The terrifying 19-point strength attribute gave Urs a very powerful physical destructive power, causing the long sword in his hand to draw a sharp arc in mid-air, directly slashing the upper half of the skull of the skeleton soldier with his eyes and the bridge of his nose as the dividing line, and the two cold dark green flames in the latter's eye sockets immediately extinguished with the trajectory of the blade.

You killed the skeleton

[XP +5 (Kill Bonus)]

Urs exhaled calmly, raised his foot and kicked over the skeleton in front of him, which was missing half a scoop of skull, his eyes turned to the remaining skeleton soldiers, and his hands holding the hilt of the sword immediately moved the long sword in his hand back to him.

After checking the two system prompts that popped up in his mind just now, he thought to himself that Vayns, the lord of the gods, was on top, and the necromancer of Byron Tas was really funny. What age is it, and those corpse witches who deal with the dead all day are still transforming this low-level battlefield cannon fodder?

In their own words, this is simply a waste of corpses.

Not only stupid, but ridiculous.

After cleanly defeating the first enemy, the oncoming second and third skeleton soldiers attacked from the left and right sides of the young man's front at the same time.

Glancing at the two with contempt, Urs raised his sword and retreated, watching as the two rusty black iron swords slashed in front of him, and then used his own long sword to accurately pierce the head of the skeleton soldier on the right, and then let go of his left hand to snatch the rusty sword from the skeleton soldier on the left, slicing the latter's neck bone with an elbow flick.

The kill information for the total 10 XP bonus comes to mind as it did a few seconds ago, in the form of a system prompt.

Having successfully eliminated the three low-level undead monsters that attacked him, Urs watched as the head of the bone that had just been slashed away by his sword swirled and fell from the air to his feet, and then looked around with his eyes to make sure that no new enemies appeared elsewhere around him.

After a while, he felt a strong tiredness suddenly climb up his eyelids, and hurriedly propped the long sword in his hand upside down on the snow, hunched over and gasped out of his throat several times in a row, and suddenly realized in his mind that he had not experienced such obvious fatigue for a long time since he had advanced to the Legendary Realm for a year.

The feeling of dizziness can be said to be very bad, and he suddenly couldn't help but curse in his heart: "Damn the game server, and this strange game bug!" My teammates on the Forgotten Plateau are still waiting for me to go back, and I don't have much free time to experience the fun of fighting monsters and leveling up from scratch in this haunted place......"

"But then again, why don't I try to just go to sleep and wait until I wake up to see if I get an emergency technical tweak notification from the game system? Or just force a disconnection to quit the game? ”

"Hmm...... Anyway, the body of this barbarian slave is not my own tuba, and even if the level 11 character is hanged, he will not receive much death punishment. ”

"Then it's decided."

After thinking about it, Urs simply complied with the irresistible fatigue in his body, threw away the weapon in his hand, and lay on his back on the snow with his arms outstretched, fainting on the snow beneath his feet, as if he had died with the three skeleton soldiers who were falling apart next to him.

Time passes slowly......

Icy snowflakes continued to fall from the gray sky, gradually burying his tall and strong body.

About ten minutes later, a military flag with a golden nightingale fluttered in the wind and snow. Behind the banner sprung up a phalanx of troops, the soldiers neatly dressed in uniform full-body armor, and several knights straddling stirrups soon rode out of the formation, as if given some order, to the unconscious young man......