Far From Vanilla: Modded Game Reincarnation

 “Pwuah!”

I gasped for air, throwing my face out of the stream. I had no food for saturation, but I had a near infinite supply of fresh water. I’ll use it to curb my hunger, after all, humans can survive days without food, but hardly a day without water. 

 I looked at the branch that I dragged over to the tower. Using it for firewood was not even a requirement at the moment, but having it with me is certainly an insurance that I could use.

 I looked at my tools spread out on the ground. They were all placed right next to each other atop my sweater. I had hardly any assets to cover even half of it.

 “A hatchet, a knife, three flints and some shards, and about seven meters of grass-rope.”

 It was already getting dark and the only reason as to why I had that much grass rope was because I was procrastinating entering the tower. I looked at the tower again, putting the tools onto my person.

 I put my sweater back on. It may be a thick layer of insulating cloth and not armor, but another layer that stood in-between my flesh and any threat that might be inside this tower the better.  

 I wore the rope like a sash over my shoulder and tucked the flint back into my pockets, wrapped in leaves so that they wouldn't puncture my legs. I wasn’t a fan of bleeding or getting infected after all.

 “Okay…” I sighed clutching the hatchet in my left hand. 

My three fingers did not have enough strength to grip the tool, but if I had to swing it with all my strength, they could generate at least a bit more power for the attack. 

 Now that my fingers were secured into place by grass rope and a small plank I carved out of a dry stick, that was all my right hand was good for.

Being injured sucks.

Damn it, I shouldn't have punched that tree.

I looked at the building once more, taking in the structure that I've been looking at for the past hour. It had five stories, circular in diameter, and structurally safe as the cracked bricks were primarily found at the top’s edges. It was a building that was still standing against the test of time.

“Here goes nothing…”

I strained as I opened the front door. 

It was very heavy. 

The doorframe resisted quite heavily because of the friction caused by its weight. Of course mold, dust, and other grime had built up over the time it was neglected, causing it to be quite obstinate.

However the reason it was so heavy was because I had to pull instead of push. It seems that the door’s design was reflected by the purpose of the building but I didn’t have the time to think about that. I got it to open anyway.

Shing!

 I was greeted by an assault. The assault was that of mold and dust, growing atop a heavily armed skeleton.

"Shit--"

A skeleton armed head to toe in shining armor, rotting leather scraps flailing about around the edges of forged iron plates.

My eyes grew wider and my reflexes threw me to the side, my head nearly grazed by a pointy object at the tip of a pole.

“Of course, there was some sort of guard.” I felt cold sweat falling down my brow.

I expected there to be resistance that I needed to overcome.

 A zombie or two maybe, a skeleton or so, but a fully armed monster was something else.

 To be exact, it was how the monster was fully equipped. 

 I rolled on the ground, rolling to the side of the door and seeking refuge with the wall. Pole arms like spears were effective for creating distance, but side to side movement was a different issue.

 In an enclosed space like this, the wall was my shield.

 “I thought the skeletons were archers… not even the stereotypes of Source’s entity generation was here.”

 More problems piled up, but if I couldn’t solve the current one I’d never be able to solve the rest.

 For the first time since I got reincarnated into this world, I’ve never wished for more problems.

 Although I was ambushed with a seemingly difficult situation, it really isn’t. Unlike in Source, there wasn’t a mechanic about not disarming your opponents.

 I was confident in using leverage to contest in a battle against strength with a skeleton struggling to walk.

 The only reason as to why my head was nearly sliced was because I was temporarily shocked by the mob. Furthermore, to make it even harder for myself, breaking his spear would deprive me of very valuable loot. 

I don’t know how long that spear had been in his hands, but I know that it wasn’t maintained by a monster with no intelligence. That same thought extended to his armor.

Still, iron was still iron. 

I needed to somehow overpower the monster without damaging valuable, and perhaps brittle equipment. 

At the same time, I needed to preserve my flint tools as well. 

“Damn it.”

I was juggling so many variables that it made my calorie-deprived brain hurt. But I didn’t have to think anymore about it.

“This is so stupid.”

Since I already had a plan.