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My Necromancer Class

Jay was merely an abandoned butcher’s son, living in a small village on the outskirts of a magical world. When humans came of age, they would receive their class from a mana conduit, granting them magic powers, and begin their lives as adventurers. “Status,” Thought Jay, checking his class. [Necromancer Level 1] “...I’m a Necromancer?” His eyes widened in shock. Looking around in fear, he breathed a sigh of relief. No one heard him. This was a monster class, and one of the more powerful monsters at that; a powerful being which raised the dead to fight on its behalf. If anyone knew, they would hunt Jay down and kill on sight. He was not just a threat to the authority of the nobles, but to all living things. “But am I a monster now? Or human? I guess it doesn’t matter. They’ll kill me all the same.” Jay had only one option: to get stronger, building his necrotic powers up so that he may one day become untouchable. Through plotting, secrecy, and sometimes by sheer carnage, he can only attempt to survive in this hostile world. Join Jay as he struggles against all odds and misfortune, against a world that wants him dead, as he secretly rises and bends this world to his will.

Aero182 · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
373 Chs

Partake

A few heavy knocks sounded from outside the door of Michael’s bedroom. As the guard captain, he lived in the adventurers’ association for free and had one of the nicer upper rooms.

This better be important, he thought to himself as he got up and opened the door enough to have his head poke out since he slept naked.

A soldier with a stern expression stood in front of him.

“Sir. There’s a developing situation. Would you like the report now?”

“Give me a minute.” Michael sighed, closing the door. He put on a simple shirt and pants before leaving his room and joining the soldier in the hallway.

“Report.” he tiredly gazed at the guard.

“A man named Alevo came to the garrison early this morning, before the sun came up. He claimed to be from a small hamlet southeast of here. He said the hamlet was being harassed by tiny demons.”

Michael had a quizzical expression. “… demons?”

“His words, sir.”

“Hmm. I’ll question him. Where’d you put him?”