You draw the sword you've totally had this whole time and plunge it into the skeleton's ribcage. The skeleton looks down at the blade, then back up at you. If a skull could have facial expressions, you'd think it looked slightly amused yet annoyed.
The skeleton stand up, brushing aside you useless sword. It towers over you and you feel like the unluckiest person at this moment.
"Pitiful human. What do you hope to accomplish? I am a lich. You're level one at best. You cannot kill me."